The road to Cliff House is darker than ever. The night doesn't feel like night—it feels like a curtain, behind which something waits for Julia to pass by, revealing itself to his touch.
Marek walks ahead, holding the flashlight so tightly it might crumble in his hand. But Julia feels the flashlight makes no difference.
This darkness isn't a lack of light. It's… alive.
She reacts to their presence.
As they approach the edge of the forest, Julia instinctively slows down.
"Something's wrong," she says quietly.
Marek doesn't respond, because she sees the same thing.
Cliff House…
doesn't look right.
The windows glow with a pale light, though the house has been abandoned for years.
The door—always creaking, worn—stands wide open, like a mouth inviting us inside. And all around… there's no wind.
Not a single blade of grass moves.
As if the entire world is holding its breath.
Julia feels something begin to tremble within her.
The symbol on her hand pulses slower, deeper—like an answer to an invisible call.
"Julia," Marek touches her arm. "If you feel anything… if you lose control… tell me right away."
"Marek, I've already lost control," she replies in a hoarse voice. "I'm just standing there."
Marek doesn't protest.
He already knows this isn't a joke.
They step onto the path leading to the door. And then Julia smells a **smell**.
It's not musty.
It's not dust.
It's not the dampness of an old house.
It's the smell of…
*the forest from the other side.*
Wet earth that isn't earth.
Darkness that has a taste.
Her stomach tightens.
“It's already here,” she says, though she doesn't really know how she knows.
But she feels it in her blood. In her bones. In her very heart.
They go inside.
--
The house isn't empty.
It looks… different.
The room Julia remembers from childhood—creaky, old, with dusty furniture—is now lit by a strange, pale light.
The furniture is in different places.
The paintings on the walls—which were never there before—depict faces.
Blurred, as if painted with a trembling hand.
All eyes… are looking at her.
Marek sees it too.
But Julia sees **more**.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a silhouette.
A woman.
Slim.
In a long, dark dress.
She stands in the corner of the room.
She stands practically still…until Julia looks directly at her.
Then the silhouette disappears.
Julia steps back abruptly.
"Marek… there's someone here."
Marek turns around, his flashlight cutting through the darkness.
"I can't see anything."
"Because it's not in the light," Julia says slowly. "It's in the shadows."
Before Marek answers, Julia hears a voice.
Quiet.
Familiar.
Warm.
*Juuu…lia…*
It's not Natalia.
But the voice has her melody.
"We're going upstairs," Marek says quickly, taking her hand. "The sign leads there."
"How do you know?" Julia looks at him, shocked.
Marek doesn't respond.
He shows her something.
A symbol…appeared on his skin too.
Smaller.
Pale.
But the same.
Julia feels the blood drain from her face.
"Marek…"
"I don't know when," she confesses. "But I feel like what connects you… has started connecting me."
"It's my fault," Julia whispers.
"No." Marek looks her straight in the eye. "It's not anyone's fault. It's a choice. Either you choose… or it chooses for you."
The words hang in the air.
Heavy.
Thick as fog.
--
The stairs creak, but the sound isn't just a creaking.
It's like… whispers.
Quiet prayers or pleas.
Julia feels each step breathe.
As they climb, the flashlight dims.
Without warning.
Without a tremor.
It simply *disappears*.
"Marek?" Julia grabs his hand in the darkness.
Suddenly, something lights up above them.
Light.
But not as it should be.
The ceiling… pulsates.
Just like the symbol on her skin.
“This is the center,” Julia says suddenly, feeling it instinctively. “This is where it entered our world.”
Marek looks up, stunned.
“Julia… there’s something here.”
And then they see.
A woman stands at the end of the corridor.
A face hidden in shadow.
A dress reaches the floor.
Hands hang unnaturally low, as if they had an extra joint.
A single, drawn-out whisper rings through the air:
*You’re back…*
Julia takes a step back.
The woman lifts her head.
And Julia sees a face.
It’s Natalia.
But not Natalia.
Eyes—black, bottomless.
Smile—too wide.
Skin—grayish, as if something had burned it from the inside.
“Nata…” Julia begins, but doesn’t finish.
Because the creature is moving.
Not a step.
Not a jump.
*She moves*, like a shadow glued to the air.
Approaching.
Marek pulls Julia into the nearest room and slams the door.
“Close your eyes!” he yells.
“Why?!
“Because if you look into her face… she’ll take you faster!”
Julia squeezes her eyes shut.
She hears a gliding footstep.
A quiet laugh.
And then…
A whisper.
*This is only the beginning, Julia. We can already see you.*
The symbol on her hand burns so fiercely that it feels like it’s burning her from the inside.
And Marek… is fading.
Because he’s starting to **hear** too.
And Julia suddenly understands one thing:
They didn’t come here for answers.
They came here because Cliff House **wants** them to come.
And he won’t let them go easily.
--
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