Unknown Sender
The city never really slept.
Even at night, when the neon lights blurred into soft streaks across wet streets, there was always movement—footsteps echoing in alleys, distant sirens, the hum of something alive and restless beneath the surface.
Most people called it normal.
But for those who paid attention… it was something else entirely.
She stood at the edge of the rooftop, the wind pulling at her jacket like it wanted to drag her backward into the sky. Below, the city stretched endlessly—glowing signs, crowded streets, lives overlapping without ever truly touching.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. School tomorrow. Another day of pretending. Another day of acting like she was just like everyone else.
But she wasn’t.
A faint sound behind her made her glance over her shoulder. Nothing...Still, her instincts didn’t relax. They never did anymore. Ever since the first time it happened.Ever since she felt it—something inside her cracking open like glass under pressure.
A memory flashed. Too fast. Too sharp.
A classroom. Screaming. Broken windows. And something invisible bending the air itself until reality felt wrong.
Then silence…
And blood on her hands that wasn’t supposed to be there.She closed her eyes.“Stop,” she whispered to herself. The wind answered instead.A phone vibrated in her pocket.
One message.
Unknown number.
“You’re being watched.”
Her eyes narrowed. Another vibration.
“Don’t go to school tomorrow.”
A pause. Then—
“Or do. If you want to meet the others.”
Her heartbeat didn’t speed up. It slowed. That was worse.
Behind her, something finally moved. Not footsteps. Not wind. Something deliberate. She turned. A boy stood near the stairwell door. Around her age.Too calm for someone who had clearly just broken into a locked rooftop.He tilted his head slightly, studying her like she was a puzzle he already knew most of the answer to.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.The air between them already felt different.He smiled faintly.
“Good,” he said. “Then you’re not completely asleep yet.”
A pause. Then he stepped forward just enough for the city light to hit his eyes. And for a second—just a second—the world around him seemed to distort, like reality itself was unsure where to place him.
“I’m here to warn you,” he said softly. “And maybe… invite you.”
The wind picked up again. But this time, it didn’t feel empty. It felt like something was about to begin.
