Chris, a studious boy with curly brown hair and a little dark skin tone, packs his worn backpack with books on paranormal studies. He glances up at the sky, savoring the last rays of sunlight as he begins his walk home from college. "Another day, another chapter to finish..." he murmurs, unaware that tonight will change everything.
Chris freezes, his breath catching as the shadow flickers ahead. For a split second, it lingers—smoky, wavering—before vanishing into the thickening dusk. "What was that? Did I just imagine it?" His heart pounds as he hurries home, the image burned into his mind.
She never speaks, never threatens, but her presence lingers—always just out of reach, always watching. During the day, Chris catches glimpses of her in mirrored surfaces, windowpanes, and even his classroom’s chalkboard. "Why are you following me?" he whispers to the quiet room, haunted by a growing sense that the shadow seeks something from him.
"There must be a pattern—some clue I’m missing," he mutters, frustration mounting as the shadow’s silent vigil continues. Despite his efforts, the entity never harms him; instead, he feels an urgent, pleading energy growing stronger each day.
"If you can hear me, show yourself. I want to help you—tell me what you need," he says, voice steady despite his fear. The air grows cold, and the shadow materializes—clearer than ever before. Her outline shimmers, sadness etched in every movement. "Please... my body is trapped. Free me, and let me rest," she whispers, her voice echoing from nowhere and everywhere at once. the next thing that he knew after waking up in the morning was that he must find that house and set the body of the lady free
