"Damn… no way the story just ended like that."
Derek groaned, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. The screen went dark, leaving his room lit only by the faint glow of streetlights slipping through the blinds.
"Now they're gonna make us wait like three years for the next season," he muttered. "That's actually evil."
He stared at the ceiling, annoyed, replaying the ending over and over in his head. Too many questions. No answers. The kind of ending that followed you even after you turned the screen off.
With a sigh, he rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket over himself.
"Whatever," he mumbled. "I'm going to sleep."
The wind brushed softly against the window. Somewhere outside, a car passed, its headlights briefly sweeping across the walls before disappearing.
Then darkness settled.
And Derek fell asleep.
A sharp breath tore into his lungs.
His eyes snapped open.
He sat up instantly, heart racing, as if he'd been dropped into his body mid-moment. For a few seconds, he didn't move. He just stared.
The ceiling above him looked… familiar.
Small glow-in-the-dark stars were scattered across it, faded and uneven. He remembered sticking those up when he was little.
At least… he thought he did.
Derek slowly pushed himself upright.
The room looked like his childhood bedroom. Same dresser. Same posters hanging slightly crooked on the wall. Even the scratch across the desk where he'd dropped a controller years ago sat exactly where it should be.
Everything was right.
So why did it feel wrong?
The air felt heavier than normal, like the room was waiting for something to happen.
"Okay…" he whispered. "Either I'm dreaming… or I hit my head."
His memories were clear — last night, his phone, the show, going to sleep.
But mixed between them were flashes that didn't belong.
A dark hallway made of stone.Students walking past him like they knew him.Shadows stretching along walls that seemed too alive.
He blinked hard.
The images vanished.
"What was that…?"
A dull pressure formed behind his eyes, then faded just as quickly.
Then—
"Derek! Breakfast!"
The voice echoed from downstairs.
He froze.
His mom.
Normal. Warm. Familiar.
Relief washed over him.
"Yeah! I'm up!" he called back, though his voice sounded uncertain.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. The floor felt cold beneath his feet. As he stood, the lights in the room flickered once.
Just once.
Derek paused.
"…Okay."
He looked toward the lamp.
It stayed perfectly still.
Shaking his head, he walked toward the door. Each step felt strangely rehearsed, like muscle memory guiding him through a life he knew… but didn't fully recognize.
He opened the bedroom door.
The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and dim.
Behind him, unnoticed—
his shadow remained standing still for half a second longer before sliding forward to follow.
Derek walked downstairs, unaware that something inside him had already begun to wake.
And somewhere deep within the darkness pooling along the walls, the shadows moved just a little closer.