It all started innocently enough—Elizabeth had found the necklace at an antique shop on the edge of town. It was delicate, beautiful even, a silver chain with a deep crimson pendant shaped like a teardrop. But the moment she clasped it around her neck, something shifted.

She came to you the very next day, her hands trembling. “Something’s wrong,” Elizabeth whispered, pulling her jacket aside to show you the necklace. “I can’t take it off.”

You leaned closer, inspecting it. The clasp wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried. And worse, her skin beneath it was faintly bruised, as if the necklace was tightening slowly over time.

“Where did you get this?” you asked, concern filling your voice.

“The shop on Wren Street. I thought it was just… jewelry. But last night I had these dreams. Shadows whispering my name, strange places I’ve never seen. And when I woke up—my reflection wasn’t mine for a second.” Her eyes searched yours, desperate. “I’m scared.”