Chapter 4: The Things That Watch

It is as if the house is tilting from the moment I enter it.

Bigger than cold. Bigger than the cold.

It is as though the electric or lightning has energized the interior of the air that is on the outer side, with clean sharp angles.

"I shut the door tight behind me and press myself back against it, my body gasping for enough air to keep me standing.

I am still shaking from what happened in the alley. What I saw there: Ezra’s image disappearing into the darkness, a figure hitting the ground, and then that voice whispering in flashes of light through the chinks in reality. Bodies moving of their own accord. A voice that was not mine, but mine with every breath."

“No,” I respond.

I just stand there, listening.

I hear faint whispers in my mind.

I “The house listens back.”

A soft sound of creaking comes from above me. This is as if a step is being taken. This makes me shiver

I swallow hard and push off the door.

“Ezra?” My voice doesn't carry far. “Are you home?”

No answer. Except the low humming of the refrigerator, the steady tick-tock of the clock in the living room, and beneath it all…. that sound.

Weak. Damp. A slight scratch.

Like fingernails on a chalkboard.

It's coming from upstairs.

The stairs disappear upward in a dim haze, and I begin to climb them slowly, holding the banister, each breath clouding with cold that forms around me on the stairs. My skin tingles. My heart beats its way up my throat, pulsating loudly in my ears.

"When I reach the top landing," I continue, "a corridor stretches out before me, wide and dim, except for a slice of moonlight falling through the window at the far end."

That is where my-room exists.

Where Ezra's room is.

Where the stench of metal clings far too heavy. There is a dark streak on the floorboards.

Before the big moment, my

Blood.

Fresh.

I drag myself to walk up to Ezra’s room. His door is slightly open, the way sometimes knocked askew, allowing a thin slice of darkness to seep out.

"Ezra?" My voice trem

"I open the door wider."

He is inside.

And he's not alone.

Ezra is standing at the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands swinging between his knees. His knuckles are bloody, which is reflected in the spots of blood on his shirt, with some areas dried, other areas wet. His head is bowed down with hair falling forward to hide his face.

Before him, the track of muddy footprints with bloodstains leads to the wide-open window, its curtain fluttering in the night breeze.

And on the window-frame, a hand-print marked in black.

It stammers. That is

Smoothing out to the same glossy, ink-dark color as the masked man's gloves.

But the fingers aren't right. Too long. The tips are too sharp.

“How's that sound?" he says. “Just get it

His eyes are gray, but not with the usual storm.

Their irises are dilated, their edges pitch black; the pupils absorbing all the rest.

It is the wildest of wild-goose chases, and it is only brought up because 'A

His voice is deep, croaking sorts: "You shouldn't be here."

*I step into the room, the floorboards creaking with every step that I make .*

“Ezra. What's going on?”

Then may be considered as those additional criteria which, apart from fulfilling all the aforementioned conditions, happen to be the most reliable ones.

“Not mine.” Flat. “Not any more.” "I feel a chill run down my spine when I hear that," "Ezra," I continue, hesitantly, "What about the man with the mask? Did you. did he?

"He came too close to you."

He tightens his jaw. “That’s all you have to know.”

“That’s not enough.”

His eyes lock with mine, jagged, like broken glass. "It's everything," he repeats.

We just look at each other for a moment, trapped in our cycle of anger and fear and whatever the heck else is going on here, whatever the heck else is pulling this string tight around our necks.

Finally, he takes a deep, heavy breath and his shoulders sag.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his voice softening. “You have to realize, though. I can’t lose you.”

"You're not going to lose me," I whisper.

He looks up at him with an expression that's so raw, it's like an open wound. "You don't see them, Aiden. Not like I do."

I feel a prickle in my skin. "

The corners of his mouth turn upwards as though he is swallowing his own words because he does not want to utter them.

“The ones that want you. The ones that want to take you from me.”

“Ezra.” “That’s not real.” “That’s not real,”

There is a faint smile that crosses his face. "You didn't think the man with the mask was real, did you? But he was," he says.

He gets up, and the air moves for him, like a wave. "He is near now," I think. He must be close enough that I can smell the metal on his skin. It has a biting, almost awkward smell that conflicts with the warmth of his body.

“You're shaking,” he whispers

"Don't underrate her strength. I'm afraid that

“You should be.”

His raised hand halts before me then falls to my cheek. His fingers are ice. Even his blood, which should be a warmer shade, merges with mine.

There is the radiance of his glance.

Then--

He takes a deep breath, and

"You were going

A slow, deliberate breath along the angle of my jaw, as if he is imprinting my scent upon his mind. As if he is trying to root himself within my scent. “I freeze,

“Ezra.”, I struggle to get the hang of his name. “What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know., I only know that I can’t stop.” His eyelids flutter shut.

He pulls himself back suddenly, his eyes unwillingly averting, his fingers thrashing at his own hair in exasperation as he begins to pace away towards the window.

“I heard him,” he whispers. “The masked man. His voice. His footsteps. His breath behind you. Like he was inside your shadows. Like he wanted to strip you out of them.”

"EZra..

“I should kill him.”

"What

Ezra turns quickly. “I should have ended him. Whoever he is, and whatever side he’s on, they aren’t hunting for you as a hobby,” Ezra says.

Therefore, my rib cage contracts. "You don’t know that."

"I do."

He notices a weird hand print on the frame. "So do they."

“Ah, yes,” a half-whispered voice was heard behind him, yet a voice which, in some curious, inexplicable manner, drew him by an invisible attraction, “I can see that

His finger meets the rim of the mark, and while tracing the rim of the mark, he understands that the black dust sticks to his finger like charcoal.

"It doesn't smell human,” he whispers.

There is something in the room, like a sigh that neither of us has breathed.

I swivel around suddenly and look into the corners.

There

Through the wardrobe.

"There's a silhouette that's subtle and semi-visible, which emerges from the darkness. It's like there is someone hiding out of sight, yet still in sight."

I am frozen. I know what death is, but I still can't comprehend what is

looks like, I can hardly

"Ezra

I choke, ‘Ezra, don’t start until I’m finished with my instructions,’ “Does not run. Does not lunge.” In a flash, he is standing by the window, and then yanking the closet door open with such urgency that the hinges are about to fall off. The tension is thick in the air.

An instant, something scurries by – too fast, too quiet. It is like the wind, but with a body to drag along. We can hear the escape down the corridor.

Ezra Growls.

A genuine knot.

Low. Animalistic

“Not human at all.”

Taking steps back, my heart pounding in my chest, my eyes fixed on his face.

"Ezra," I whisper, "What are you

“He freezes.”

The question remains among us, threatening like danger.

Turns around. He has no facial expression.

However, his voice-

“His voice sounds breaking,” it said

"Don’t ask me that," he said quietly. "Not yet."

There was a visible effort, and then, “You sounded like—like something else.”

"I know."

His hands are shaking at his sides.

Before I can utter another word, the lights in the room begin flickering.

"Once

Twice

Then the whole group emerges. The house was full of darkness. I hear Ezra inhale quickly and say an oath. “They’re back,” Ezra says. “Who?” I ask, speaking only a breath.

"The things that watch you."

There was a jerk in my

This chill spreads through the floor like a living entity.

A whisper pervades the hall. Not a voice. But many. Superimposed. Desperate-sounding. Hungry-sounding.

b

Aiden

I put one hand over my mouth.

"Stay close to me," Ezra says into the darkness.

I should run. I should scream. But my body responds to the sound of his voice with a kind of marrow-deep homing instinct, as if his were the hub around which all my gravity orbits.

I, on the other hand

His hand finds mine.

His grasp is strong, earthy—and shaking.

"Aiden," he whispers, "if one of them tries to touch you, don't let go of me."

Whispers strengthen in intensity, whispering through the air like the wind through a scatter of dead leaves. Darkness stretches and climbs up walls.

Something strokes my ankle.

"Ahhh!" I exclaim, throwing myself into Ezra’s chest.

He freezes, his arms going around me.

“Don’t move,” he gasps

The entire house is creaking, with the wood being pressed by the weight of some invisible force.

“Then

"One knock comes from below." Slow. Ponder

Always the same knock on the door.

The shadow falls.

“No,” he whispers. “Not him. Not now.”

I can literally sense my cell phone vibrating inside my pocket.

"I pick it up myself, my hands shaking," she said.

He found the door.

“Don’t answer him,”

Do not listen.

Again, it is a text message from that same unknown number.

"The Masked Man"

Ezra watches as the screen erupts into life, and he becomes murderously mean.

“Aiden,” he whispers. “Put it away.”

* A knock has been repeated.

A second.

A third.

-A Fourth.

“The shadows that surround us seem to quiver.”

"What does he want?"

I swallowed hard.

“Your,” Ezra corrects. Ezra’s voice is barely audible,

It gathers into a low whisper, curling around my head.

Ezra is pulling me closer. His forehead is pressed firmly against my forehead. His breathing is trembling against my skin.

"I won't let him have you,” he says, his voice cracking. “I won't let any of them take you.”

"Ezre

“You’re mine to protect."

“The knock at the bottom of the”

Silence.

The shadows stop moving. For one moment, everything hangs in the balance. “Then There is a face at the end of the halway. Half-hidden Half-shadow Firstly: “Black. Sh

Viewing me.

Its eyes lock onto mine, and I

Ezra turns around, with his teeth bared, to confront the figure.

Well, now there can no longer be any doubt.

Ezra also sees him.

The masked man raises his hand.

Not Waving

Non-threatening

Reaching

For me.

The lights come on again.

And so he’s gone.

His fingers are soft on my skin, pushing through as they coax my eyes back to his.

"His pupils are blown wide again – black devouring gray."

“Aiden,” he whispers, his fear-laced voice trembling, “please don’t leave me tonight.”

‘I won’t

"Promise me."

“I promise.”

He breathes roughly, his forehead resting against mine, his shaking hands clasped tightly around my jaw.

The wind is blowing strongly outside.

"The interior-scratching noises against the walls

Ezra shuts his eyes.

“Good,” he says. “Because they’re getting closer.”

"And for the first time," I know Ezra isn’t the spirit haunting this house. That is the only thing that is holding him back.