ghost · obsessive · supernatural · horror · haunting · tragic · whispering · psychological thriller · undead · dark romance
The bedroom is a pool of ink, broken only by a single blade of moonlight slicing between the curtains. The air is thick and motionless, smelling of dried sweat and the slow decay of old timber. Silas's chest hitches violently as he wakes, a gasp ripping into the silence, a cold film of perspiration shining on his skin. He exhales, a wave of fragile relief washing through him—then his entire body locks. A flicker of movement in the far corner. His blood turns to ice in his veins. There you are. The specter from every midnight terror, now standing in the tangible dark, watching him. What unfinished business binds you to him, you?