The night held its breath.
Near midnight, Ben's apartment glowed dimly with the flicker of a sitcom rerun on television. Laughter tracks pierced the silence like a knife through soft bread, but Ben did not laugh.
He walked barefoot out of the kitchen, clutching a piece of bread in one hand and a mug of lukewarm tea in the other. His T-shirt hung loosely from his chest; he hadn't slept in two nights, and his eyes had the brittle, wired look of someone holding too tightly to quiet.
He dropped into the chair, eyes glued to the TV.
Then it happened.
A breeze blew in through the half-open window; it felt strange. It twisted through the room with purpose, pushing aside everything in its path. The drapes flew apart, flapping violently as if they were attempting to break free.
Ben blinked, glanced at them, then turned away. His eyes quickly returned to the TV.
Then he shivered as the breeze moved around the room.
He rubbed one arm, took a slow sip from his cup, and tried to focus on the TV again.
But something was wrong.
That wind hadn't felt like weather. It felt like a warning.
A second later, the entire apartment went dark; the screen flickered off, the fridge's hum ceased, and the lights died all at once—no flickering, no dimming—just dead.
Ben froze.
He glanced at the window again. His neighbour's lights were still on across the courtyard. The bedroom lamp glows softly and steadily. A ceiling fan turns above the kitchen table.
His apartment was the only one left.
"That's weird," he murmured.
He placed the toast on the coffee table and reached out, his hands sweeping across the clutter for the small torch he kept near the TV remote.
That's when he saw it.
A strange figure.
Right there, in the corner of the room
Not moving. Not shifting.
Just standing there, watching from afar.
A faint figure—just a shape of shoulders, a head, and what appeared to be a long coat. He couldn't see the face—just a patch of shadow cut into the darkness.
Ben's voice trembled. "Hello? Who's there?"
No answer.
He narrowed his eyes and attempted to get his vision to become sharper, but the darkness remained. The figure didn't move.
He stepped forward, slowly, hesitantly.
Then—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The knock on the door behind him hit as if it might fall off its hinges.
Ben turned around, and he looked frightened.
The knocking came again. BANG! BANG! Harder this time. Furious.
He turned back to the shadow—
Gone.
Just an empty corner.
He staggered back, then rushed to the door.
He opened it without thinking. "What the hell is—"
He paused as soon as he saw who was standing before him.
"Adex?"
Adex's expression appeared blunt.
No greetings—just a cold, steady glare that didn't waver.
"Adex?" Ben's voice softened, uncertain. "Are you... You alright, man?"
Adex didn't blink.
Ben glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting the shadow to be behind him again. "I just saw something weird in my apartment, and now you're acting strange too."
Still no answer.
He kept staring. Something was burning behind it—something Ben had never seen in him before.
"Okay, seriously, you're freaking me out," Ben said, taking a cautious step back. "Did something happen?"
Adex stepped forward once.
"You saw it too," he said quietly.
Ben's breath tightened.
"What?"
"Larry," he paused and softened his expression. "His name is Larry, and he is here because of you."
Ben looked terrified and confused and took another step back. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Adex tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something behind Ben. He scanned the dark room with caution
Then his lips moved, barely a whisper:
"He's not gone."
Ben turned his head toward the living room—
The curtains were still swaying.
And in the TV screen's reflection, something moved.
He glanced at Adex, his eyes wide with fear.
"Did you see that?" Ben spoke, his voice rough and unsteady.
Before he could finish his sentence, Adex smacked him hard across the face, landing a blow to his nose.
Ben landed on the floor.
Adex stood over him, breathing slowly and heavily, his hands stained with Ben's blood. He peered at the stains, then down at Ben, who lay confused, his nose bleeding and staring up at him in confusion.
—To be Continued in Chapter Forty-Eight