UNNAMED [CHAPTER 11- "Whispers in the Cold Hall"]

Chapter 11 - "Whispers in the Cold Hall"

"Ghosts don't always haunt the past - sometimes they wear new faces.

Truth twists in the shadows, and what you think you know is just a lie you're desperate to believe.

Step carefully. The cold isn't the only thing ready to break you."

The figure turned.

And it wasn't her.

It wasn't anyone I recognized.

"That was rude of you to say… for a classmate, don't you think?" she said, a faint smile curling on her lips.

"A classmate…?" I blinked, disoriented.

She looked vaguely familiar - but not real. Not now. Like a photograph left too long in the sun, the face fading just as you try to focus.

"Yes," she said lightly, brushing snowflakes off her coat. "We've met before, but I guess you wouldn't remember - you always seem lost in your thoughts. Like that time with the foxgloves. Or was it the gravel?"

I stared at her, mind racing.

Was she real?

Was this real?

"You looked like you'd seen a ghost," she added, chuckling softly. "Or maybe… you were expecting someone else?"

"I - I thought you were someone else," I admitted, stepping back.

The hallway around us remained silent, heavy. Even her voice didn't echo. It was like the building had swallowed sound itself.

"Well, I'm not," she said simply. "But maybe you should be careful who you chase after in the dark."

I wanted to ask her name. I wanted to ask what she was doing here. But something in her tone - the calmness, the precision - made me hesitate.

She walked past me, descending the stairs without another word.

I stood frozen at the top, the cold creeping back into my bones.

Had I imagined her?

Or worse… had I remembered her?

"Are you inviting a cold to catch you?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

"N–No."

"If not, then why are you still standing outside?"

The word left me before I knew I was speaking. "Yes."

I followed her. She moved with ease - like someone who knew every hallway by heart. We entered a room with windows, a little less musty than the others. She sat on the greyish sofa. I followed, unsure if I belonged there. The roaring wind outside now felt like a whisper.

I tried recalling the names of everyone I knew in my class.

Liora, Henrita, Felix, Asher…

"You can call me Rue," she said with a smile, as if she'd known I'd been trying to place her name.

"Oh - okay, Rue."

We both sat in silence.

She pulled her side bag onto her lap and unpacked a camera with a heavy lens. Carefully, she wiped away a layer of dust, then began calibrating it with slow, steady movements. I watched her hands move with mechanical precision. My thoughts didn't catch up - they just drifted, blank and slow.

"I didn't know you were into photography," she said suddenly, her voice startling me back to the room. She was already aiming the lens.

"W-well, I'm not really into photography," I said hesitantly.

"Where's your camera?" she asked, ignoring my words entirely.

Did she really not hear me? Or was she choosing not to?

"I'm not into photography, Rue."

"Oh, so what brings you here in this bad weather?" she asked solemnly, her eyes fixed on mine.

"To protect myself from the weather."

"Ohh - that explains it. Here, see my camera! It's a Nikon Z6 II. Effective exposure metering, works well in near-darkness, robust in-body stabilization… and this is my favorite lens, a 24–70mm f/2. And - "

She kept going. Her words blurred into static.

I nodded, trying to follow, but none of it made sense to me. Still, I watched her - not for what she was saying, but for the quiet spark in her eyes.

"Isn't it nice?" she asked, eyes gleaming.

"Y–Yeah, it's awesome. Though you see, I don't really know much about this stuff," I said with a hesitant laugh.

She stared at me. Said nothing.

Her fingers hovered midair, unmoving. The pause stretched - past natural, past polite. Something in the room shifted.

"It was still amazing… watching you talk about it," I said, softer than I meant to. Her face didn't change, but her fingers stopped moving. Like she'd heard something I hadn't said out loud.

Though she smiled - there was something off about it. Not false, just… too familiar for a stranger.

And then she lifted the camera - and pointed it at me.

Click.

The shutter sounded like a door locking.

 - to be continued…

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