AISLYNThe silence that follows is worse than its presence.

The air feels thinner, stretched too tight, like the corridor itself is holding its breath. The shadows slowly loosen, though they don’t retreat far. They remain close, alert, coiled with the patience of predators that know the hunt has only paused.

My heart finally begins to pound.

Not from fear.

From certainty.

That thing didn’t attack because it didn’t need to.

It was measuring me.

I straighten slowly, forcing my breathing to ...