Part 3

  [LOG BEGINS]

  Scene III

  After everything was cleaned up and the reports were filed, everyone was exhausted.

  Most of them fell asleep almost immediately.

  For the first time in days…

  He was quiet.

  No whispering.

  No calling my name.

  And because of that…

  I forgot about him.

  I went to shower.

  The academy showers were cold, tiled, echoing. Water hitting porcelain too loudly.

  Steam started filling the room.

  I let my guard down.

  Another female colleague walked in while I was showering. I heard the curtain rings slide and the water started in the stall beside mine.

  Normal.

  Grounded.

  Real.

  She finished before me. I heard her turn off the water. The curtain moves.

  Then she paused.

  “Hey.”

  I didn’t think much of it.

  “Yeah?”

  “Who are you showering with?”

  I frowned.

  “What?”

  “The clothes on the floor. Those aren’t yours.”

  I looked down.

  There were clothes there.

  Dark.

  Wet.

  Not mine.

  My chest tightened.

  “I’m alone.”

  Silence.

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  Then her voice changed.

  “…I can see a shadow.”

  I froze.

  “I’m looking at your shower door,” she said slowly. “There’s someone standing behind you.”

  I didn’t hear the door open.

  I didn’t hear footsteps.

  I didn’t hear breathing.

  But the air changed.

  I stopped listening to her.

  Because I heard him.

  A low chuckle.

  Close.

  Too close.

  Something wet dropped onto the tile in front of me.

  I looked down.

  The mask.

  Brown cloth.

  Soaked.

  Heavy.

  No mouth.

  No expression.

  Just empty.

  “You forgot about me?”

  His voice was right behind me.

  I didn’t answer.

  “Come on,” he whispered. “Turn around. Don’t I deserve a reward?”

  My head started shaking on its own.

  “You’re not real,” I whispered.

  The air behind me shifted.

  Then…

  His face.

  Right beside mine.

  So close I could feel warmth against my ear.

  No mask now.

  I refused to look.

  Locked my eyes forward.

  “I won’t look at you.”

  He started whispering over and over.

  “Look at me.”

  Closer.

  “Look at me.”

  Faster.

  “Look at me.”

  The words layered over each other.

  I started screaming.

  “No! Leave me alone!”

  The lights flickered.

  Went out.

  Darkness swallowed everything.

  Then…

  They came back on.

  My colleague was in front of me, grabbing my shoulders.

  “Are you okay?”

  The water was still running.

  I was alone.

  She looked down.

  “You said there were clothes.”

  I looked at the floor.

  Gone.

  Only mine remained.

  And the mask.

  Lying there.

  Wet.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  I stepped out of the shower so fast I almost slipped.

  Water…. Still running.

  Hands shaking.

  I threw on my clothes without drying properly.

  She followed me out.

  “What’s going on?” she kept asking.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  But I did.

  We went straight to the control room.

  If the cameras were back online, we would know.

  The tech team was already there, reviewing footage from the breach.

  The screens flickered with hallway feeds.

  Grainy. Slight static.

  We arrived just as the footage caught up to the moment the infiltrators started dying.

  We watched.

  The lights in the hallway dimmed.

  Not fully off.

  Just… drained.

  The door at the end of the corridor opened.

  A figure walked in.

  Tall.

  Black suit.

  Broad shoulders.

  The camera adjusted focus…

  But his face didn’t register.

  It wasn’t blurred.

  It wasn’t glitched.

  It simply wasn’t there.

  Like the system refused to process it.

  The infiltrators saw him.

  They shouted.

  Opened fire.

  Bullets hit him.

  We saw impact sparks.

  But his body didn’t react.

  He didn’t flinch.

  He walked forward calmly.

  And then…

  He reached the first man.

  The camera flickered.

  Cut.

  Came back.

  The man was on the ground.

  Bent wrong.

  The second one raised his rifle.

  Flicker.

  Cut.

  Back.

  Blood on the wall.

  No visible attack.

  Just aftermath.

  Every time he stepped in front of someone…

  The camera glitched.

  Like it refused to witness the act itself.

  But we saw enough.

  He killed them.

  One by one.

  Not rushed.

  Not chaotic.

  Deliberate.

  When the last infiltrator fell, the lights stabilized.

  And he stood there.

  Still.

  Then turned.

  And walked out of frame.

  I swallowed.

  “Go to the women’s ward,” I said.

  They rewound.

  Skipped forward to the time I went to shower.

  We watched myself enter.

  Normal.

  Minutes passed.

  My colleague entered after me.

  Then….

  The bathroom door opened.

  On screen.

  Slowly.

  He walked in.

  Same suit.

  Same height.

  Same missing face.

  No one else reacted in the hallway footage.

  No one saw him.

  He moved directly into the shower area.

  Time passed.

  Then…

  The lights flickered violently.

  On the screen and in the memory at the same time.

  We saw me stumble backward inside the stall.

  We saw the other girl rush toward me.

  We saw both of us run out seconds later.

  And that was it.

  No mask on the floor in the footage.

  No second figure leaving.

  Just an empty tile.

  The room went quiet.

  No one spoke.

  Because they had all seen it.

  He wasn’t in my head.

  He was real.

  And he only came for me.

  [LOG ENDS]

  And that’s where I woke up.

  No face reveal.

  No explanation.

  Just a mask on the floor and a voice too close to my ear.

  The worst part?

  He didn’t sound angry.

  He sounded hurt.

  Like I ignored him.

  Anyway.

  If you would’ve turned around… I genuinely don’t understand you.

  See you in the next nightmare.