The Unrecorded Extra

Chapter 81 Change In Demeanor (Skippable)

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Creeeak—!

A jarring, eerie noise echoed through the room, jolting me from my sleep.

Blinking groggily, I struggled to summon the energy needed to pry open my eyes.

Another creak reverberated in the air, this time punctuated by a sharp click that sent shivers down my spine.

I rose from my bed, my hand instinctively rubbing my still-heavy eyes. Through blurry vision, I could make out the silhouette of someone standing in front of the door.

The figure advanced toward me, each step bringing them closer as my eyes strained to focus. Finally, they reached the foot of the bed opposite mine, and my gaze fixated upon them as they sat.

As my vision gradually cleared, the features of the figure came into focus. 

Strands of long, black hair cascaded onto the surface of the bed, splayed in a hauntingly beautiful manner. A pair of piercing red eyes locked with mine, seeming to penetrate the depths of my soul. Her skin was as pale as that of the deceased.

A spark of recognition ignited within me as I discerned her unmistakable features.

"Zia...what time is it?" I managed to utter, my voice laced with a yawn.

Zia's lips curved into a gentle, warm smile, momentarily easing my unease. Yet, as I caught a glimpse of the coldness lurking behind her eyes, an inexplicable shiver coursed through me.

"It is the midnight hour. You should go back to sleep," she stated, her voice devoid of any emotion. It was a tone I had never before heard from her, void of the warmth and familiarity that used to define her speech.

Something was wrong…

I stretched my body and got up from bed. Zia's gaze was still locked on me.

Her earlier demeanor made me feel a knot of apprehension tightening my chest. Something was off with her—her distant gaze, her detached demeanor. It was as if a stranger stood before me, wearing the skin of the person I knew.

p?nd?---no??1,?o? "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice quivering slightly. The air seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, filling the room with an unsettling stillness.

She remained silent for a moment, her gaze unyielding.

Then, in a chilling monotone, she finally spoke, her words hanging in the air like a forebody mist.

"There are things…dark things. They whisper in the shadows, beckoning to me."

A chill ran down my spine as I absorbed her words. I had never heard Zia speak something cringe like that before…and so I thought.

"Oh. So it's like that… I see, don't worry. It will soon disappear when you realize it."

Her face stayed still, expression unchanging. Upon seeing her expression, I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for saying something that might offend her. Well, I couldn't say that it was all my fault, right?

'Looks like when someone is in their phase, they really can't accept a joke,' I thought to myself, scratching my cheek.

Feeling that the atmosphere turned awkward and I didn't have anything to soothe the situation, I decided to walk away, finding myself peace on the comfy sofa.

I could feel Zia's gaze was still on me, and wondering when would she stop that. I didn't particularly bothered by the stare, it just felt strange when she did that.

Blood-red eyes in perfect shape, devoid of any tiredness. And that very same eyes were staring at me like a psycho.

I tried to ignore her gaze and focused to do my own thing. Though I was supposed to sleep right now, it was hard to fall asleep when someone was giving me a locked stare.

Instead, I put my A5 journal book on the table. Take out a pen and at the same time flip through the pages to find a blank page I could write on.

I was not going to craft a plan as it was already done. Instead, I did sketching on the paper.

While my hands were moving in a knowing manner, I occasionally glanced at Zia who, once again, was still staring at me.

By the end of the time, I finished my sketch of her.

The sketch captured Zia's haunting beauty, emphasizing the sharp angles of her face and the intensity of her eyes. The lines on the paper seemed to come alive, portraying her enigmatic aura.

I set the pen down and admired my creation, satisfied with the way the sketch had turned out.

Zia's gaze still bore into me, unrelenting and unsettling.

I got up and walked toward her, showing the sketch.

"I thought you might like to see it. Also, this is my attempt to get your apologies for what I said earlier."

Zia's expression remained unchanged as she glanced at the sketch.

Her eyes lingered on the page for a moment, then slowly extended her hand, her pale fingers delicately grasping the edges of the sketchbook.

As she studied the drawing, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It was a subtle expression, barely there, but it was enough to make me breathe relief.

"You capture me well," she finally spoke, her voice soft yet still carrying the unusual aloof and melancholy tone. "There's an intensity in your lines, as if you truly see me. I really appreciate that, thank you."

I nodded and let out a smile.

"Well, I 'truly' see you," I said, though unsure of my own word's meaning.

Zia closed the book and handed it back to me. Her gaze finally softened as she looked at me.

As I took the book back, the sleepiness suddenly hit me. My body felt burdened as if gravity itself tried to drag me down.

"Oh?"

I stumbled back, falling to the floor near my bed.

My vision was blurry once again. Zia's features became unnoticeable, and she once again became a silhouette like the first time I saw her standing in front of the door. 

Her silhouette figure occasionally blinked, appearing and disappearing, and even glitching as if she was a hologram.

That was the last thing I had seen before the world around me seemed to distort and everything went black.

The next time I opened my eyes, I found myself waking up on my bed. Which I found strange because I was sure last night I was sleeping on the floor.

As I rose up from my bed, feeling a little of a headache, I rubbed my temple. 

Taking notice of the clean bedsheet opposite mine, the memory of the last night surged up my head.

I frowned at the sight of the clean, cold bedsheet. It was the same as the last time I witnessed this…

"..."