Chapter One: The Start

  The vilge of Shimitsu was small, nestled on the edge of an isnd where the mist never fully lifted, shrouding the world in a constant, oppressive gloom. There were only a handful of houses here, cobbled streets, and whispers that seemed to echo even when no one was around. Eshina Meomori, at seventeen, had long ago become accustomed to the isotion that the vilge imposed. His days were spent in the company of books, those fragile, yellowed pages that offered him glimpses into worlds beyond the suffocating isnd.

  The quiet was the worst part. It crawled beneath your skin, like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

  Eshina sat in the dusty corner of the vilge library, a pce so forgotten by the world that cobwebs draped across the wooden shelves. His fingers traced the spine of a book, worn and ancient. "The Chronicles of the Shadowed Realm." He’d read it so many times that the pages were no longer crisp, but soft and fragile, threatening to disintegrate with a single touch.

  It was on this day, however, that the book felt… different.

  The soft whispering of the wind outside ceased, and Eshina gnced up, momentarily distracted. The library was still, save for the faint rustling of pages turning in his hands. But something was off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as if something unseen were watching him.

  He shook his head, dismissing the unease that crawled up his spine.

  "You’re getting too used to these stories, Eshina," he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse in the silence.

  A voice, soft and distant, seemed to echo back at him. "Too used to… the stories…"

  Eshina’s heart skipped a beat. He jerked his head around, eyes wide.

  No one.

  The library was empty. But the echo lingered in the back of his mind, scratching at his thoughts like a cw. He swallowed, trying to ignore the sensation that crept over him like the dark shadows under the floorboards of the old house he called home.

  Suddenly, a sound broke the stillness a low creak, like the groan of a door slowly opening.

  Eshina froze, his heart pounding in his chest. It came again, this time unmistakably footsteps. Soft, deliberate, but they weren’t his own.

  "Who's there?" Eshina called out, his voice wavering despite himself.

  The footsteps halted.

  Then came the voice.

  "Do you hear it, Eshina?" The whisper was cold, unsettling. It seemed to wind through the room, brushing against his ears, like a sinister lulby. "Do you hear the truth calling to you?"

  A shiver ran down his spine, and his hands clenched around the book, the pages threatening to tear under his grip. "Who are you?"

  The voice chuckled, an unsettling, hollow sound. "I’m the one you’ve been waiting for."

  Eshina stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He spun around, but there was no one just shadows stretching unnaturally long in the corners of the room. His pulse quickened, and the book in his hand felt suddenly heavier, as if it had grown rger in his grip.

  A flicker of movement in the corner of the room caught his eye. He turned quickly, but it was gone.

  "Stop pying games," he muttered to himself, trying to steady his breathing. But his heartbeat seemed to echo in his ears. The room, once familiar, now felt alien, as if the walls were closing in on him.

  Another voice, deeper this time, rumbled from behind him. "You should have never opened it, Eshina."

  He spun around, but again, there was no one. The shadows in the library seemed to shift, grow, and twist. They swirled like smoke, as if they were alive, moving of their own accord. Eshina’s vision blurred, his hands trembling as he gripped the book tighter.

  The soft whisper returned, this time closer, more insistent. "Do you feel it, Eshina? The pull? The darkness that calls to you… it’s not just the story. It's you."

  His breath caught in his throat as the air around him thickened. His thoughts grew hazy, the room spinning. The voice no, the presence was inside his head now, crawling along the edges of his consciousness.

  Suddenly, the book opened on its own.

  The pages flipped rapidly, each turn of the page echoing in the silence of the room. Eshina tried to stop them, but his hands were frozen, his fingers tingling with a strange sensation. The words on the pages began to change. The ink shifted, twisting into shapes and symbols he couldn’t understand. His mind screamed at him to look away, but his eyes were locked onto the pages, unable to look anywhere else.

  The shadows in the corners of the room stretched forward, creeping along the floor like dark tendrils. Eshina took a step back, his pulse racing. He could feel them, feel the weight of the darkness pressing in on him, suffocating him. The air grew colder, and the whispers turned into a low, guttural chant, growing louder with each passing second.

  "Please… stop," Eshina whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible. His mind was swimming in a fog of fear and confusion, but he couldn’t pull himself away from the book.

  The room was no longer the same. The walls seemed to be warping, bending in unnatural ways. His heart pounded in his chest, the pain in his head intensifying as the whispers grew louder, more insistent.

  You belong here…

  Eshina screamed, his voice swallowed by the overwhelming sound of the chanting. He tried to close the book, but his hands were shaking too violently. The shadows were right behind him now, their forms taking shape like people, like things that were once human but twisted by darkness. They reached for him, their fingers cold and cmmy against his skin.

  You’re not getting away…

  His legs buckled beneath him, and he fell to the floor, the book still clutched in his trembling hands. The darkness pressed in closer, suffocating him, drowning him in its weight. His vision darkened, the shadows closing in until everything was swallowed by a vast, endless void.

  The st thing he heard before the world faded away was the voice, cold and mocking:

  "Welcome to the story, Eshina Meomori. You’ve always been part of it."

  When Eshina awoke, he was back in the library. The book was closed in his p. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his hands were cmmy as he gripped the book tightly.

  The shadows were gone. The room was still.

  But the words were there, echoing in his mind:

  You’re part of the story, Eshina. You always were.

  And for the first time, Eshina wondered if he ever truly would escape...