THE EIGHTH SHADOW [BTS]

PROLOGUE

There were eight of them.

At least, that's what the photograph showed.

The picture was old.

Too old.

Its edges were curled and stained with age, as if it had spent years hidden from sunlight.

Seven young men stood smiling in front of a large mountain mansion.

The sky behind them was dark with approaching rain.

Their expressions were carefree.

Unaware.

As though nothing terrible had happened yet.

As though they still had time.

The mansion loomed behind them like a sleeping beast.

Tall.

Silent.

Waiting.

The strange thing wasn't the mansion.

It wasn't the storm clouds gathering above it.

It wasn't even the dark figure standing in an upstairs window.

The strange thing was the eighth person.

A shadow stood among the group.

Human.

Motionless.

Watching the camera.

Their face had been scratched away.

Not blurred.

Not faded.

Scratched.

Violently.

As if someone had desperately wanted it gone.

A long crack ran across the photograph.

Directly through the figure's chest.

On the back of the picture, written in shaky handwriting, were five words.

DON'T LET THEM FORGET.

The photograph was found three years after the incident.

By then, nobody wanted to speak about the mansion anymore.

The police had closed the case.

The locals avoided the road leading into the mountains.

Even maps seemed to forget the place existed.

The mansion had no official address.

No owner.

No records.

Nothing.

Only stories.

Stories about strange knocks in the middle of the night.

Stories about voices coming from empty rooms.

Stories about people counting seven faces one moment...

And eight the next.

Most people dismissed the stories as folklore.

Ghost tales.

Urban legends.

The kind told around campfires to frighten children.

But legends do not leave evidence.

Legends do not leave photographs.

And legends do not make grown men wake up screaming every night for years.

The storm began at exactly 11:47 PM.

The seven friends had already arrived.

Rain hammered against the windows.

Thunder rolled across the mountains.

Inside the mansion, laughter echoed through the halls.

For a little while, everything felt normal.

Safe.

Then somebody knocked on the front door.

Three slow knocks.

The sound echoed through the house.

Everyone froze.

Nobody had expected visitors.

Not out there.

Not in the middle of the storm.

The knocking came again.

Three knocks.

Slow.

Patient.

Waiting.

One of the men laughed nervously.

"Who's crazy enough to be out there tonight?"

Nobody answered.

Because at that exact moment-

Every light in the mansion went out.

Darkness swallowed the house.

And somewhere beyond the front door...

Something knocked a third time.

Three slow knocks.

As though it already knew they were inside.

As though it had been waiting for them.

As though it was finally time to come home.

The next morning, one of them would be gone.

And before long...

Nobody would remember they had ever existed.