When we burst back into the oga’s quarters, the silence almost crushed . The wide dormitory-like room was dim, the lamps long blown out, the rows of narrow beds crowded with the sleeping forms of ogas who had no idea what we had just done.
Joan pushed the door closed behind us with trembling hands, her breath ragged. Elara was still clinging to , her nails digging into my arm like claws. My chest was tight, my throat raw from breathing too hard.
Safe. We were safe. That was what I wanted to believe. The door was closed. The others were sleeping. The Psycho Alpha wasn’t here.
But even as I told myself those words, I didn’t believe them.
I sank onto my bed at the far corner of the room, curling my arms around myself as though that would hold together. The mattress felt too hard, too thin, the sheets suffocating instead of comforting.
Elara sat down beside , tears streaking her face. "He knows, Ellie," she whispered, her voice broken. "I felt it. He was there. He knows."
"Shhh," Joan hissed, her eyes darting toward the others. "Don’t wake them."
But my pulse pounded in my ears. I could still hear the creak of the cellar beams, the deliberate sound of footsteps overhead. I could still hear his voice in my mind, soft, mocking.
Run if you like. Plan if you like. You will never leave .
I pressed my palms against my ears, rocking slightly. "Stop," I muttered under my breath. "Stop, stop, stop."
"El?" Joan knelt in front of , her hands on my knees. "It’s okay. We’re back now. He didn’t see us."
I jerked away from her touch. "Didn’t see us? He always sees us. You don’t understand he doesn’t need eyes. He’s here."
Joan’s expression faltered, but she forced a smile. "You’re just shaken. Try to sleep. Tomorrow—"
"Sleep?" I laughed, a broken sound too loud in the silence. A few ogas stirred, frowning in their sleep. I clamped a hand over my mouth.
I couldn’t sleep. Not now. Not ever.
The room was too still. Too quiet. Every creak of the wooden beams overhead made flinch. Every sigh from a sleeping oga made certain it was him.
I lay down anyway, forcing myself under the thin blanket, staring at the dark ceiling. Joan and Elara lay close, whispering softly to each other, but I couldn’t make out the words.
That was worse. What if they weren’t whispering comfort? What if they were whispering about ? About how I’d ruined everything? About how they should tell him what we’d done before he punished them for being part of it? My throat closed up.
"Elara," I whispered sharply. "What are you saying to her?"
She jumped, her eyes wide. "N-nothing. Just just telling Joan I’m scared."
"You’re lying," I spat before I could stop myself. "You’re planning to tell him. Aren’t you?"
Her mouth opened in horror. "No! Ellie, I would never"
Joan sat up quickly, pressing a hand to my shoulder. "Ellie, stop. She’s not lying. You’re exhausted, that’s all. Please.
But her voice faded into the background, drowned by another sound.
A low creak. Right outside the door.
I froze. My blood turned to ice. Slowly, I turned my head toward the door at the far end of the quarters. It was closed, but the shadow at the bottom shifted just a flicker, just enough to make certain soone was standing on the other side.
He was there. Listening. Breathing. Waiting.
I scrambled upright, clutching the blanket around like armor. "He’s here," I whispered. "He’s at the door."
"No one’s there," Joan insisted, but her own voice trembled. She didn’t sound sure.
Elara began to cry again, muffling the sound against her hands. I staggered a few steps toward the door, my bare feet cold on the floorboards. I couldn’t stop staring at the shadow. It didn’t move. But it didn’t need to. Always watching, his voice coiled through my mind, soft and amused. Always listening. Did you think your whispers in the cellar were secrets?
"No," I gasped, backing away, shaking my head. "No, stop.
"Ellie?" Joan caught my wrist, her eyes wide with fear. "He’s not here. You’re scaring everyone. Please, just sit down."
I looked around. A few ogas had stirred, sitting up in their beds, watching us with confusion and worry. Their whispers filled the room like insects buzzing, too many voices, too close. I couldn’t breathe.
They all knew. They all knew what I’d done. He had told them.
"Stop whispering!" I shouted, clutching my head. My voice cracked through the silence, and the others flinched. Soone muttered for to be quiet, that I’d get us all in trouble.
Trouble. That word rang in my skull like a death knell.
They will bla you, the voice whispered. They’ll hand you over, little Ellie. You will take the punishnt for them all. And I’ll enjoy every mont.
I sank to the floor, rocking, muttering prayers under my breath. "Please, God, please, don’t let him in. Don’t let him take ."
Joan knelt beside , her hands shaking as she tried to soothe . Elara hid her face against her knees, sobbing quietly. The other ogas whispered among themselves, fearful and uneasy.
But over it all, I could still hear the imagined sound of footsteps outside the door. Slow. Patient. Waiting.
I didn’t sleep. Not even when the others lay back down. Not even when Joan begged to rest. I sat awake in the dark, staring at that door, convinced that the mont I closed my eyes, he would walk in.
And by morning, I wasn’t sure anymore if I had heard real footsteps or if they were only in my head.
The first light of dawn crept through the narrow windows of the oga’s quarters, pale and gray. I hadn’t slept. My body trembled from exhaustion, but my eyes refused to close. They burned, gritty and raw, but every ti I even blinked, I saw him standing at the door, smiling that smile that said he already owned .
So I kept staring. All night. At the door. By morning, the other ogas had noticed.
"She hasn’t moved," soone whispered as they laced up their boots.
"I think she’s lost it," another murmured, her tone laced with pity. "The Alpha broke her."
"She will bring trouble down on us," ca a sharper voice. "If he cos for her, he won’t care who else gets caught."
Their whispers weren’t soft enough. They weren’t trying to hide it. Every word cut into , sharper than claws. I pressed my hands against my ears, but it didn’t matter. I still heard them. I always heard them.
Joan sat beside , her body blocking mine from view. She glared at the others. "Leave her alone," she snapped, her voice low but fierce. "You don’t know what she’s been through."
The room quieted for a mont. A few of them looked guilty, but most looked away, muttering as they tied their aprons or brushed their hair. They didn’t care. They didn’t want to understand. They just wanted to stop being a threat to their fragile safety.
Elara hovered nearby, wringing her hands. Her face was pale, her eyes red from crying, but she hadn’t left my side. Not entirely. She kept glancing toward the others as if torn, as if she wanted to sit with them where it was safe and normal but couldn’t quite bring herself to abandon either.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, rocking slightly. My blanket was twisted around my shoulders like a shield. My lips moved soundlessly at first, then words slipped out. "He’s listening. He’s always listening. Don’t talk. Don’t whisper. He hears everything."
Joan’s hand brushed my shoulder gently. "Ellie, it’s okay," she whispered. "You’re safe right now. It’s just us here."
I snapped my head toward her, eyes wide. "Safe? You think this is safe? He was at the door last night, Joan. I heard him. I saw the shadow. He knows. He knows what we tried to do."
Her face crumpled, and she nodded quickly. "I believe you. I do. But you need to rest. Just a little. Please."
Rest. The word was aningless. There was no rest anymore. Only waiting. Waiting for him to co.
Across the room, two ogas giggled nervously, their hands covering their mouths. My chest tightened.
"What are they laughing at?" I demanded, my voice rising too sharp. The giggling stopped imdiately. "Are they laughing at ? Did he tell them? Did he tell them what we did?"
The room fell silent. All eyes flicked toward , then away again, like I was sothing contagious. Joan moved closer, her arm wrapping around my shoulders. "Ignore them," she murmured, but her jaw was clenched.
I shoved her off. "Ignore them? When they’re talking about ? When they’re planning to hand over to him?"
"Ellie!
"I’m not stupid!" My voice cracked through the quiet room. A few ogas gasped. One muttered, "She really has lost it."
"I heard you," I spat at them, my body trembling, my voice shaking with rage and terror. "I hear everything. I know what you’re thinking. You think if you feed to him, he’ll leave you alone. You think he’ll let you live. But he won’t. He never does."
The ogas shifted uncomfortably. So turned their backs. Others shook their heads. No one argued with that was worse. That ant they really were thinking it. Elara burst into tears, covering her face. "Please stop, Ellie. Please."
Her sobs pierced . I looked at her, guilt twisting in my gut, but the fear was stronger. "You believe ," I whispered. "You know I’m right. Don’t you?"
Elara sobbed harder, but she nodded. Just once. It was enough. Joan knelt in front of again, her eyes locking on mine. Her voice was steady, calm, but I could see the fear trembling underneath it. "Ellie, listen to . You’re not crazy. You’ve been through hell. Of course you feel like he’s everywhere. He’s done that to you. But you’re not alone. We’re here. I’m here."
I blinked at her, my lips parting. For a mont, her words reached through the fog in my mind. For a mont, I wanted to believe her.
Then a floorboard creaked in the hallway outside the door.
I froze. My body went rigid. My breath stopped.
"He’s here," I whispered, my voice hollow.
Joan stiffened but forced a smile. "It’s just soone passing by."
"No," I hissed. "It’s him. He’s standing there. Listening. Waiting."
I stared at the crack beneath the door until my vision blurred, waiting for the shadow to flicker again. But it didn’t.
Maybe it never had. My chest heaved, tears spilling hot and fast down my face. I pressed my fists against my eyes, curling into myself. "I’m not crazy," I sobbed. "I’m not crazy, I swear. He’s doing this to . He’s making —"
Joan pulled against her chest, rocking gently. "I know. I know, El. It’s him, not you. You’re not crazy. You’re not."
Her words wrapped around like a fragile lifeline. But I could still feel the weight of the other ogas’ stares. I could still hear their whispers, their scorn, their fear.
And deep in my mind, beneath Joan’s soothing voice, I still heard him.
Crazy little Ellie. Broken little mouse. Even your own kind don’t trust you now. How long until they hand you to ? How long until you beg to take you, just so it ends? I clutched at Joan’s sleeve, trembling.
I wasn’t crazy. But the walls of the oga’s quarters felt like a cage, and his voice was the key. And every hour, every whisper, every creak of the floorboards pushed closer to breaking for good.
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