16/02/2026
REVIVE BOOK1
EPISODE 4 &5
The banquet sailed smoothly throughout the night and lasted until early morning. Everything went exactly as requested. The guests were satisfied. No complaints. No incidents. No strange occurrences.
Nothing abnormal.
Nothing unusual.
As the hours passed and nothing else happened, I slowly began to convince myself that perhaps I had imagined everything.
The shadows.
The gaze.
The cold.
Maybe it was exhaustion.
After all, these past few days I had been experiencing vivid hallucinations. Or at least… that’s what I told myself.
“I should speak to Johnnie,” I murmured one afternoon while folding fresh linens in the now-quiet ballroom.
Johnnie was my friend — and a psychiatrist.
It might just be my anxiety disorder resurfacing again. A few counseling sessions. A couple of prescribed medications. I’d be fine.
I had to be fine.
After the banquet ended, the next few days were filled with cleaning. Decorations were removed. Tables were cleared. Chandeliers dimmed back to their ordinary glow. Slowly, the Mansion returned to its usual silent elegance.
And just like that—
The Velmorian family disappeared.
No farewells.
No direct communication.
Nothing.
Only Benjamin, the man who contacted Rebecca on their behalf, delivered a brief message.
“The banquet surpassed expectations.”
That was all.
It should have felt relieving.
It didn’t.
A few days later, the dreams began.
At first, they were unclear — flashes of darkness, distant whispers, cold corridors stretching endlessly.
But then came the nightmare that left me shaken.
—
In the dream, I was standing in the middle of the ballroom.
Except it wasn’t decorated.
It was empty.
Silent.
The chandeliers flickered weakly above me, casting distorted shadows across the marble floor.
The air smelled metallic.
Like blood.
I tried to move, but my feet wouldn’t obey me.
Then I heard footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Echoing from behind.
I wanted to turn around.
I couldn’t.
The footsteps stopped right behind me.
A cold breath brushed against my neck.
And then—
A voice whispered:
“You should have stayed dead.”
My heart stopped.
Before I could scream, something sharp pierced through my chest.
Pain exploded outward.
I looked down.
A long, black blade had been driven straight through me.
The hand holding it wasn’t human.
Its fingers were too long.
Too thin.
The skin grey, almost cracked like stone.
Slowly, I forced myself to look back.
The being behind me was tall and distorted. Its face was hidden in shadow, but its eyes—
They glowed faintly red.
Not bright.
Just enough to see.
Enough to know it wasn’t human.
It leaned closer.
And twisted the blade.
I felt warm liquid pour down my body.
I tried to breathe.
Tried to scream.
But instead—
The being leaned to my ear and whispered again:
“You belong to us.”
And then it pulled the blade out.
I collapsed onto the cold marble floor.
The chandeliers shattered above me.
And everything went black.
—
I woke up gasping for air.
My sheets were soaked in sweat.
My chest hurt.
Actually hurt.
As if something had truly pierced through it.
I stumbled out of bed and rushed to the mirror, lifting my shirt with trembling hands.
Nothing.
No wound.
No blood.
But the pain lingered.
That was the moment I knew I couldn’t ignore this anymore.
I immediately got dressed and headed straight to Johnnie’s clinic for a counseling session.
I needed clarity. I needed reason. I needed someone who could explain what was happening to me.
Johnnie.
He would understand.
He always did.
His clinic was quiet when I arrived.
The familiar scent of antiseptic and paper greeted me as I stepped inside. It should have comforted me.
But it didn’t.
Johnnie welcomed me warmly, though his eyes studied me carefully.
“You look exhausted, Sophia,” he said.
“I haven’t been sleeping well.”
He gestured for me to sit.
“Tell me everything.”
So I did.
The dreams.
The presence.
The feeling of being watched.
The shadows.
He listened without interrupting, his expression calm and professional.
When I finished, he nodded slowly.
“These sound like stress-induced hallucinations,” he said gently. “You’ve been through significant emotional pressure recently. New job. New environment. Anxiety can manifest in very vivid ways.”
His explanation made sense.
Logical.
Safe.
He ran a few basic tests anyway.
Pulse normal.
Blood pressure normal.
Temperature normal.
Everything normal.
Completely normal.
“There’s nothing physically wrong with you,” he said reassuringly.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead…
I felt worse.
Because if nothing was wrong with me—
Then why did it feel so real?
Why did the dreams feel like memories instead of imagination?
Why did the presence still follow me?
Even now, sitting in his office…
I could feel it.
Behind me.
Watching.
Silent.
Patient.
Waiting.
I turned suddenly.
Nothing.
Just the empty wall.
Johnnie noticed my reaction.
“Sophia,” he said gently, “your mind is trying to process something. Sometimes the brain creates symbols. It creates figures. It creates fear.”
I nodded slowly.
"If you want we can talk about...your relationship, how's your mother?" He gently asked
"I don't...I don't know. That's not what I want to talk about" I said dismissively.
"I know it's hard , but eventually you need to acknowledge and talk about it, it one of the reasons why your anxiety keeps resurfacing"
He explained.
"I dont know Johnnie, it's just.. I want to talk about it, just ...not now please.." he could see the sadness in my eyes as I tried to bury the memories deep.
"Okay soph, I will be here whenever you are ready to talk, always".
I smiled faintly.
Maybe he was right. But am not ready to face all of my demons yet. That's why I moved over to the City. To get a chance at being happy and feeling normal again.
After the counseling session, Johnnie prescribed a mild medication to help stabilize my anxiety and regulate my sleep cycle.
“Nothing too strong,” he assured me while writing the prescription. “Just something to keep your nervous system from overreacting.”
I nodded.
That was the problem with anxiety. Sometimes your body reacted to dangers that weren’t even there.
Or at least… dangers you couldn’t see.
We wrapped up the session, and as I stood to leave, Johnnie glanced at his watch.
“You eaten today?” he asked casually.
I shook my head. “Just coffee this morning.”
He sighed lightly. “That’s not helping your condition, Sophia.”
I gave him a weak smile.
A few minutes later, we decided to grab something to eat together at our favorite restaurant — the small quiet place tucked between two old buildings downtown. It wasn’t luxurious or fancy, but it was comforting.
Familiar.
Safe.
The walk there was calm. The sky had cleared again, sunlight breaking gently through thin clouds as if nothing strange had ever happened in the first place.
Inside the restaurant, the scent of grilled meat and baked bread filled the air. The soft hum of conversations surrounded us. Plates clinked. Glasses touched. Ordinary sounds.
Normal life.
We ordered our usual meals without even looking at the menu.
Johnnie leaned back in his chair, studying me carefully.
“You look lighter,” he said.
“Do I?”
“Yes. Talking helps.”
I exhaled slowly. “Maybe I just needed to hear that I’m not losing my mind.”
“You’re not,” he said firmly.
For a moment, I believed him.
Our food arrived shortly after.
I picked up my fork.
Paused.
Something felt… off.
I couldn’t explain it.
The restaurant suddenly felt too quiet.
Not silent.
But muted.
Like the sounds had been lowered slightly.
My eyes drifted around the room.
People were still eating.
Still talking.
Still laughing.
But for a split second—
Every single person in the restaurant stopped moving.
Completely.
Frozen.
Forks mid-air.
Glasses halfway to lips.
Eyes open.
Unblinking.
My breath caught in my throat.
I blinked.
And everything resumed.
Laughter returned.
Movement returned.
The clinking of plates continued.
Johnnie frowned at me. “Sophia?”
I realized I had been gripping the edge of the table tightly.
“Did you see that?” I whispered.
“See what?”
My heart began to pound.
“No… nothing. It’s nothing.”
Anxiety.
It had to be anxiety.
I forced myself to take a bite of food.
Chewed.
Swallowed.
But the uneasy feeling remained.
And then—
I felt it again.
That presence.
Not inside the restaurant.
Outside.
Watching through the glass window.
Slowly…
Almost unwillingly…
My eyes shifted toward the window.
Across the street—
Standing beneath the shade of a tall tree—
Was a man.
He wasn’t moving.
Wasn’t speaking.
Wasn’t on his phone.
Just standing there.
Looking directly at me.
Even from this distance, I could feel it.
His gaze was steady.
Unblinking.
Familiar.
And though I couldn’t fully see his face…
Something deep inside me recognized him.
Not from this life.
But from somewhere else.
My chest tightened.
When I blinked—
He was gone.
Just empty pavement where he had stood.
“Your anxiety is spiking again,” Johnnie said gently. “You’re dissociating.”
I tried to focus on Johnnie’s voice, but my mind kept drifting back to the man outside.
The way he stood.
The way he watched me.
The way something inside me had reacted before I could even think.
“Sophia,” Johnnie called softly.
I blinked and looked at him.
“You’re somewhere else again.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
He studied me for a moment but didn’t press further.
We finished our meal in relative silence. Or at least, silence on my part. Johnnie spoke occasionally, trying to keep things normal, grounded. I appreciated it, even if I couldn’t fully stay present.
After we paid and stepped outside, the afternoon air greeted us gently.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
We stood near the entrance for a moment.
“I’ll call you in a few days,” he said. “Make sure you take the medication as prescribed.”
“I will.”
He gave me a reassuring smile before walking toward his car.
I watched him leave.
And then—
I felt it again.
That presence.
Closer now.
My body stiffened.
Slowly, I turned.
He was standing across the street.
The same man.
This time, I could see him clearly.
He stood unnaturally still, his posture straight, composed. He wore dark clothing, simple but elegant. His face was calm, almost expressionless—but his eyes…
His eyes were locked on me.
Not curious.
Not surprised.
Certain.
As if he had been waiting.
As if he knew me.
A chill ran down my spine.
I glanced around briefly, expecting someone else to notice him.
No one did.
People walked past him normally.
Unbothered.
Unaware.
As if he wasn’t there at all.
My heart began to race.
He took one step forward.
Just one.
And the air around me felt heavier.
Colder.
My breathing slowed without my permission.
Fear should have consumed me.
But it didn’t.
Instead…
I felt drawn to him.
Like something inside me recognized him.
Like I had seen him before.
In my dreams.
In the darkness.
In places that didn’t belong to this world.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t move again.
He simply watched me.
And then, slowly…
He lowered his head.
Not like a stranger.
Not like a man greeting someone new.
But like someone acknowledging something that already belonged to him.
A quiet, deliberate gesture.
Recognition.
My chest tightened.
I didn’t understand why…
But in that moment—
I knew.
He wasn’t a stranger.
He was one of them.
One of the Velmorians.
One of the hidden ones.
Watching me from the shadows.
But why?
.......... EPISODE 5
I don’t remember deciding to move.
One moment I was standing there, staring at him across the street—
The next moment—
I was already halfway toward him.
The sound around me dulled again. Footsteps felt distant. My body moved with quiet determination, like it wasn’t waiting for my permission.
He didn’t move.
He waited.
The closer I got, the colder the air felt.
Not wind.
Not weather.
Cold.
As if heat avoided him.
I stopped a few feet away.
Up close, he looked even more unnatural.
Not pale like someone sick.
But pale like someone untouched by sunlight.
His eyes were darker than I remembered.
Not black.
But deep.
Ancient.
“You’ve been watching me,” I heard myself say.
My voice didn’t tremble.
That scared me more than anything.
“Yes,” he replied.
His voice was low, smooth, controlled. Not apologetic, not defensive, just honest.
My heart should have been racing.
But something strange happened instead.
It slowed. Steady, heavy, like a drumbeat underwater.
“You were at the banquet,” I said.
“I was.”
“You were in the shadows.”
A faint expression flickered across his face.
Approval.
“You see more than you should,” he murmured.
The words should have frightened me.
Instead—
Something inside my chest pulsed sharply.
Pain.
Sudden.
Violent.
I gasped and staggered back, clutching my sternum.
The exact same spot from my dream.
From the blade.
It felt like something was trying to push through my ribs from the inside.
“What did you do to me?” I whispered.
He stepped forward instantly.
Too fast.
One moment he was standing still.
The next—
He was right in front of me.
There was no blur.
No visible movement.
Just distance erased.
“I did nothing,” he said calmly.
“But something has begun.”
My vision wavered.
Sounds sharpened suddenly.
Too sharp.
I could hear conversations across the street.
Heartbeats.
Footsteps blocks away.
A dog barking far in the distance.
My breathing became uneven.
“What’s happening to me?” I demanded.
His gaze softened — not with kindness.
With inevitability.
“You’re remembering.”
The word hit me harder than the pain.
“Remembering what?”
He studied me carefully.
“As soon as you were near us, it started. The dreams. The presence. The pull.”
My stomach dropped.
“It’s not anxiety,” he continued quietly. “It’s awakening.”
The pressure in my chest intensified.
For one terrifying second—
I felt something shift inside me.
Not metaphorically. Physically. Like something aligning. Like a locked door clicking open.
I gasped sharply—
And the world snapped back to normal.
The sounds faded.
The pain disappeared.
My heartbeat returned to its normal pace.
I was standing on the sidewalk.
Cars passed.
People walked.
Everything ordinary again.
Except—
He was still there.
Watching me.
Calm.
“You shouldn’t be near me,” I said weakly.
A faint, almost amused breath left him.
“You were never meant to be far from us.”
Us.
The word echoed.
“The Velmorians,” I whispered.
He didn’t deny it.
Instead, he stepped back slightly.
“There are others who would prefer you remained unaware,” he said.
“Of what?”
His eyes darkened.
“Of who you were.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Who I was?” I repeated.
But before I could say anything else—
He was gone.
Not walked away.
Not disappeared behind something.
Gone.
As if he had never been standing there.
I stood frozen on the pavement, my chest still tingling faintly.
A storm of emotions crashed through me all at once. Confusion, Fear, Curiosity, Denial.
Nothing made sense.
It felt like I had stepped out of my own life and into someone else’s reality. Like the world I thought I understood had shifted slightly out of place.
What was happening?
What did he mean by remembering?
What had begun?
Who was I?
And why did it feel like everyone knew something about me that I didn’t?
My thoughts tangled together violently. Questions collided with fear. My chest tightened painfully, as if something inside it was trying to break free.
I couldn’t breathe properly.
My vision blurred.
The street around me began to spin, colors melting into each other like wet paint.
I turned around, desperate for something solid to hold onto—
And collided directly into someone.
Strong hands caught my shoulders.
“Sophia!”
Johnnie.
He looked genuinely terrified.
Not confused.
Not skeptical.
Terrified.
As if he had seen something.
As if he had witnessed everything that just happened.
“I—” I tried to speak.
I wanted to tell him about the man. About the cold. About the pain in my chest. About the word remembering echoing inside my head.
But my mouth wouldn’t cooperate.
My thoughts refused to form sentences.
All I managed to whisper was—
“Johnnie…”
And the world went black.
When I woke up again, it was dark.
For a moment, I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe deeply.
Didn’t open my eyes fully.
I was afraid that if I did, I would wake up somewhere else.
Or worse.
I slowly pushed myself up.
I was in my bedroom.
At my apartment.
Night had already fallen.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
Was it another dream? Had I imagined everything again? The restaurant, the man,the conversation, the pain.
My head throbbed faintly as I swung my legs off the bed.
My body felt weak but not injured.
I stood carefully and walked toward the sink to get a glass of water.
The apartment felt… different.
Occupied.
As I stepped into the hallway—
I heard low voices.Whispering.Serious.
I froze.
Then I moved closer.
And there they were.
Rebecca and Johnnie stood just outside my bedroom door, talking in hushed tones. They both looked up immediately when they saw me. Relief and worry flashed across their faces at the same time.
Rebecca rushed forward first.
“Sophia! Oh my God, you scared us.”
Johnnie followed closely behind her, his expression tense.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quickly. “Do you feel dizzy? Weak? Strange?”
Strange.
The word lingered.
I looked from one to the other.
Their worry felt real.
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
Rebecca glanced at Johnnie before answering.
“You fainted outside the restaurant.”
Johnnie’s jaw tightened slightly.
“You collapsed,” he added. “You weren’t responding for almost a minute.”
A minute?That felt too long.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
But even as I said it…
I wasn’t sure if it was true.
Rebecca helped me sit down, her movements gentle but controlled. Too controlled.
Johnnie stood a little farther away, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Watching me.
Not just concerned. Assessing.
“You were talking to someone,” he added.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the couch.
“Someone?” I repeated.
Rebecca’s eyes flickered toward him — a silent exchange passing between them.
“A man,” Johnnie clarified. “Tall. Dressed in black.”
The room went still.
“You saw him?” I asked quietly.
Johnnie hesitated.Not long. But long enough.
“Yes.”
Rebecca inhaled softly.
“And?” I pressed.
Johnnie’s jaw flexed.
“He wasn’t… normal.”
The way he said it — measured, cautious — told me he was choosing his words very carefully.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Another glance between them.
Rebecca stepped in quickly. “Maybe it was just the lighting. You’d just left a counseling session. You were overwhelmed—”
“I wasn’t hallucinating,” I cut in.
Silence.
Johnnie finally spoke again.
“He looked at me.”
That made Rebecca tense.
“And?” I asked.
“For a second,” Johnnie said slowly, “I couldn’t move.”
The air in the apartment felt heavier.
“As in… you froze?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.
But something in his expression said he was leaving parts out.
“You’ve seen something like this before,” I said.
It wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.
Yet both of them reacted.
Rebecca straightened slightly.
Johnnie’s gaze hardened.
“You need to be careful,” he said firmly.
Careful;Not calm down;Not rest. Careful.
“Careful of what?” I asked.
TBC.
