Page 3 of Noctis

Jack turned to his other guest. “Amelia, you’ve heard stories like this before. What’s your take?”

“The fear Daniel describes is completely genuine. People often assume that offering a scientific explanation means dismissing what someone experienced, but it doesn’t. The terror is real, even if the cause isn’t supernatural.”

“So, what do you think caused it?”

“The timing is significant. Many of these experiences occur as someone is falling asleep or waking up. Those are periods when hypnagogic and hypnopompic hallucinations are most likely. The brain can produce incredibly vivid images that feel absolutely real.”

“And what about the feeling that someone else is in the room?”

“That’s one of the classic features of sleep paralysis. Even if someone isn’t completely paralyzed, the brain can create a strong feeling that another presence is close by. Add stress, anxiety, or sleep deprivation into the mix, and the experience can become even more convincing.”

“What about the fact that so many people describe the same thing? A black, featureless figure watching them.”

“Our brains are remarkably good at recognizing human shapes, especially in the dark. When visual information is incomplete, the mind fills in the gaps. There’s also the influence we have on one another. Once stories about shadow people become part of popular culture, people who have similar sleep-related hallucinations are more likely to interpret them in the same way.”

“So, from your perspective, shadow people aren’t visitors from somewhere else? They aren’t demons, watchers observing humanity, or negative spirits that feed on fear?”

“I’ve seen no evidence that they are. Everything we know points toward well-documented neurological and psychological processes.”

Daniel cleared his throat. “I badly wanted that explanation to be true.”

“You did?” Jack asked.

“I went to a sleep clinic. I improved my sleeping habits. I tried to reduce my stress. The sightings became less frequent, but they never stopped.”

“So, you still see them?”

“Occasionally.”

“And do you still think they’re real?”

Daniel took longer to answer that question than any of the others. “I honestly don’t know. There is one thing I never told the doctors, though.”

Jack’s voice softened. “What was that?”

“The last time I saw one, it wasn’t looking at me.”

“What was it looking at?”

“It was staring at something behind me.”

Jack let the silence settle before speaking again. “And I think that’s probably a good place for us to pause. After the break, we’ll look at reports of shadow people from all over the globe. We’ll discuss why so many people who’ve never met describe almost identical encounters—and whether folklore has shaped those experiences, or the similarities point toward something we still don’t understand.”

“This is Embers & Campfire Stories. We’ll be back after the ads. Don’t go anywhere.”

Chapter One

Rowan

“Where the fuck are we?” The words came out more aggressively than I’d intended, and regret followed almost at once. Despite that, I considered my response warranted. Tyler had claimed he was taking me out for dinner somewhere on the outskirts of London, yet I’d woken to find that he’d brought the car to a stop miles from civilization.

I struggled upright, attempting to shake off the last vestiges of sleep still clinging to me. It wasn’t surprising that I’d fallen asleep in the car, considering I’d danced the night away at Paloma Club and hadn’t gotten home until after sunrise. Allowing myself to drift off had seemed harmless. Now, as I stared at trees, trees, and more trees, it felt like a serious lapse in judgment.

The only thing in sight apart from an arborist’s wet dream was a creepy-ass building on my left. Large, gray, and set well back from the road, it had the sort of brooding presence that suggested nothing good ever happened inside.

I eyed it warily. “It doesn’t look like a restaurant.” I supposed there was a possibility it could be. Some pretentious themed dining experience where the bleak surroundings were considered part of the charm.

Tyler shifted in his seat. “It isn’t. It’s a…”