Midnight didn't arrive loudly.
It crept in.
Lena lay awake, staring at the faint glow of her phone as the numbers flipped from 11:59 to 12:00. The house felt different at night—older somehow, like it remembered things she didn't.
Then she heard it.
A whisper.
Not from the hallway. Not from the vents.
From the walls.
She sat up slowly, heart hammering.
"…Lena…"
Her name slid through the darkness, soft and careful, like it was being tested.
"I'm dreaming," she muttered.
The whisper came again—closer this time.
"…clock tower…"
Lena swung her legs off the bed before she could think better of it. The floorboards were cold beneath her feet as she padded to the window. In the distance, the silhouette of Ashford High's bell tower cut into the moonlit sky.
The tower pulsed faintly.
Once.
Twice.
Her phone buzzed on her nightstand.
Theo: You hear it too, right.
That was all it took.
Twenty minutes later, Lena stood outside the rusted iron gate of the school grounds, hoodie pulled tight around her. Theo emerged from the shadows near the trees like he'd been there all along.
"Tell me this isn't a terrible idea," she said.
"It absolutely is," he replied. "But ignoring calls from the other side is worse."
The gate creaked as Theo pushed it open. The air past it felt thinner, colder.
As they approached the tower, whispers layered over one another—dozens of voices now, unfinished sentences curling around them like fog.
"—still waiting—" "—keeper—" "—mark her—"
Lena pressed her hands over her ears. "It's saying my name."
Theo stiffened. "Don't answer."
The tower door opened on its own.
Inside, the space where the bell once hung yawned empty. Moonlight spilled through the broken arches, illuminating symbols etched deep into the stone—ancient, familiar.
"They're different," Lena said. "They're… asking."
Before Theo could stop her, Lena stepped forward.
The whispers stopped.
Then—
clang.
Not a bell. Something deeper. Like stone striking bone.
The shadows twisted, forming a shape that never fully settled—edges blurring, face half-suggested. Its voice pressed directly into Lena's mind.
Blood remembers what the world forgets.
Theo grabbed her arm. "We leave. Now."
The tower shook. Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls. From deep underground, something stirred—angry, awakened.
They ran.
When they reached the gate, the whispers cut off as suddenly as they'd begun.
Both of them gasped for air.
"That wasn't a creature," Lena said softly. "It was… a message."
Theo nodded, face pale. "A warning."
"About what?"
He looked back at the tower, jaw tight.
"You," he said. "And what you're supposed to become."
As Lena walked home under the fading moonlight, one final whisper brushed her ear—gentle, familiar, terrifying.
Midnight has chosen you.