Chapter 2: The Pattern

I try to act like nothing is happening.

Like I didn’t see it.

Like my friends aren’t dying one by one.

Like the house isn’t… changing.

Morning feels normal.

Too normal.

Voices in the kitchen. Footsteps in the hall. My sister talking like everything is still in place, like nothing has shifted.

But something has.

And I can feel it.

I don’t go near my room for most of the day.

But night comes anyway.

It always does.

When I step inside my room, my dragon is already there.

Curled in the corner like always.

Watching.

Quiet.

I sit on my bed.

My eyes drift to the window.

I don’t want them to.

But they do.

Then—

White.

A blur.

Fast.

Gone.

My body goes still.

I don’t move.

I don’t even breathe properly.

“…You saw it again,” my dragon says softly.

I don’t answer.

Then—

A sound.

From inside the house.

Not outside.

Not the window.

Inside.

A dragging noise.

Slow.

Uneven.

My head turns toward the door.

My heart starts pounding.

“…Did you hear that?” I whisper.

“I did,” my dragon replies.

No one else reacts.

No voices.

No footsteps.

Just that sound.

Again.

Closer.

I stand.

My legs feel heavy.

Like they don’t belong to me.

The hallway feels wrong.

The lamps are lit, but the light feels weak.

The shadows feel deeper.

The sound stops.

Then—

A voice.

Faint.

Broken.

“…h…help…”

My chest tightens.

I know that voice.

I move toward the room.

The door is slightly open.

Dark inside.

My hand reaches it.

I hesitate.

Something inside me is screaming not to.

“Don’t go,” my dragon says quietly.

I ignore him.

I push the door open.

For a moment—

I don’t understand what I’m seeing.

Then—

I do.

It’s there.

Standing near the far side of the room.

Black feathers.

Wings folded tight.

Too big.

Too wrong.

Its head turns.

Slowly.

Its eyes lock onto mine.

And then—

I hear it again.

“…help…”

I look down.

My friend.

She’s still alive.

Barely.

Her body is—

I can’t understand it.

I don’t want to.

She’s trying to move.

Trying to reach me.

Her hand trembles.

Her lips move again—

“…p…please…”

My body doesn’t move.

I want to help her.

I do.

I swear I do.

But I can’t.

My legs won’t move.

My voice won’t come out.

My whole body is frozen.

The creature doesn’t touch me.

Doesn’t attack.

Doesn’t rush.

It just watches.

Watches me.

Watching her.

Like it’s waiting for something.

Waiting for me.

Something inside my chest tightens.

Twists.

Breaks.

And then—

I scream.

A sharp, high-pitched scream tears out of me.

Loud enough to hurt my own ears.

Loud enough to echo through the entire house.

The creature doesn’t react.

Not at first.

Then—

It moves.

Not toward me.

Not toward her.

It steps back.

Spreads its wings—

And vanishes.

Gone.

Just like that.

The room feels empty instantly.

Too empty.

Footsteps.

Running.

Fast.

“What happened?!”

My parents’ voices.

Closer.

I’m still standing there.

Shaking.

Breathing too fast.

My ears ringing.

They rush in.

My mother reaches me first.

Grabs my shoulders.

“What happened?! Tell me!”

I try to speak.

I can’t.

My throat closes.

No words come out.

My father looks at me first.

Confused.

Then concerned.

Then—

He looks past me.

At the floor.

And everything changes.

His face goes still.

Completely still.

“…No…” he whispers.

My mother follows his gaze.

And then—

She sees it too.

My friend.

What’s left of her.

Her grip on me tightens.

Too tight.

“What happened?” she asks again.

But this time—

Her voice is quieter.

Shaking.

I open my mouth.

I want to tell them.

About the creature.

About the feathers.

About the eyes.

But I can’t.

Because I didn’t help her.

Because I just stood there.

“I… I don’t know…” I whisper.

The words feel wrong.

But they’re the only ones that come out.

Later…

When everything is quiet again…

I sit in my room.

My dragon beside me.

“You froze,” he says.

Not accusing.

Just stating it.

I nod.

“I heard her,” I whisper.

My voice breaks.

“…she was asking for help…”

Silence.

Then I say the thing I don’t want to admit.

“…and I didn’t do anything.”

The words feel heavier than everything else.

My dragon doesn’t respond immediately.

Then—

“It didn’t attack you,” he says.

I look at him.

“That’s not mercy.”

My chest tightens.

“It’s choosing,” I whisper.

The realization settles in.

Cold.

Clear.

“It’s choosing who dies…”

Outside—

A white blur moves past the window again.

Fast.

Silent.

Gone.

I stare at the darkness.

“…and it’s making sure I watch.”

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