The Figure

  A few more details about the mysterious figure start to appear, as moments appear before Elias stepped into the garage.

  This figure seemed to be tied to the darkness and the garage itself, and it was possible that it could’ve been lurking there for a long time.

  Maybe even since the garage was built.

  Before Elias ever stepped into the garage that night, it was already there.

  It had always been there.

  The garage was old, built long before Elias had ever purchased the house. The walls had seen decades pass, the concrete had swallowed countless secrets, and the darkness had become a breeding ground for things that did not belong in the world of the living.

  And within that darkness, it waited.

  **Flashback**

  [Moments Before Elias Arrived]

  The garage was empty. Silent. Still.

  Then, something shifted.

  A ripple passed through the shadows, distorting them, stretching them like a living wound in the fabric of reality. The air grew thick, humming with a sickly vibration that pulsed in the walls.

  Then—it stepped forward.

  Or rather, it pulled itself forward.

  The figure moved like something that had long forgotten how to be human. Its limbs jerked, its spine twisted, each motion painfully wrong, like a broken puppet forced into movement.

  Its skin—if it could be called that—was thin, almost translucent, stretched over a body that barely seemed to exist beneath it. The outlines of veins and sinew pulsed in slow, crawling waves, as if something beneath was trying to push its way to the surface.

  Its head tilted unnaturally, the neck bending just a bit too far, the joints crackling like brittle twigs underfoot.

  And its eyes.

  Hollow. Empty. Watching.

  There was no emotion in them. No recognition of life, no flicker of humanity. Just an abyss—a void that seemed to drink in the light around it, swallowing it whole.

  It had been waiting.

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  Watching.

  The air in the garage trembled as the figure’s elongated fingers scratched against the wooden workbench. A slow, deliberate movement. Its touch left behind a black, oily residue—something that soaked into the grain of the wood like ink spreading across paper.

  Then, with inhuman precision, its fingers carved into the wood.

  A jagged, fractured spiral. A symbol.

  One it had drawn many times before.

  One meant to be seen.

  The thing twitched, its head snapping toward the garage door, its body rigid, listening. It could feel something coming.

  Someone.

  A new presence. A new set of eyes that would see it.

  Then—a sound.

  The distant creak of a door opening.

  Elias.

  The figure melted back into the darkness.

  And waited.

  [Present Time]

  Elias stood frozen in front of the workbench, staring at the symbol it had left behind.

  He had no way of knowing that only moments before, something had been standing exactly where he was now.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  And it was still here.

  Still waiting.

  And it was not alone.

  The House Remembers

  The wind outside howled, rattling the garage door like unseen hands were trying to claw their way in.

  Elias’s fingers hovered over the strange spiral carved into the wood. It looked ancient, jagged, deliberate—something about it made his skin crawl. His fingertips brushed against the grooves, and a sudden pulse shot up his arm.

  He yanked his hand back.

  The symbol was warm.

  The sensation was brief, but it left behind a deep unease in his chest.

  His pulse was erratic, his breath shallow. The air in the garage had changed—thicker, heavier. Like something unseen had coiled itself around him.

  Get out.

  The thought whispered in his mind, but he didn’t need convincing. The shadows seemed deeper now, stretching unnaturally into the corners, and Elias could feel something watching.

  He turned and bolted for the house...

  [Inside the House]

  The moment he crossed the threshold, the air shifted. The oppressive weight lifted slightly, but the feeling of being watched didn’t fade.

  Elias slammed the door shut behind him, pressing his back against it. His breathing was ragged, uneven. He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself.

  What the hell just happened?

  His gaze flicked toward the dimly lit hallway stretching before him. The house was silent—too silent. It should have felt like a refuge, but instead, it felt...wrong.

  His eyes drifted to the nearest window. The storm outside had intensified, rain hammering against the glass in relentless sheets. The wind screeched through the trees, but inside, everything was still.

  Almost like the house itself was holding its breath.

  The walls felt closer than they should be.

  The furniture, the pictures—they felt like strangers. Like they belonged to someone else entirely.

  And then—the creaking started.

  Not from the floorboards beneath him.

  From above.

  The attic.

  Elias stiffened. He had lived in the house for months now, but he had never once set foot in the attic. There had been no reason to.

  Until now.

  The sound came again.

  A slow, deliberate dragging noise.

  Like something moving.

  No—like something shifting.

  He swallowed. His throat dry. His eyes flicked toward the ceiling, following the sound as it seemed to drift from one side of the house to the other.

  Then, it stopped.

  Dead center.

  Right above him.

  Silence.

  Elias barely had time to react before—

  BANG.

  A violent thud directly overhead, shaking the ceiling like something heavy had just dropped onto the floor above.

  A cold, electric fear ripped through him.

  Something was up there.

  And it wasn’t just moving.

  It was waiting.