Around 3 am, Percy was abruptly pulled from his slumber. It wasn't a noise that woke him, but the sudden return of that haunting voice, low and persistent, whispering insidious things in the darkness.

His eyes snapped open, heart pounding in his chest. The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of the streetlights outside, casting long shadows on the walls. As his vision of him adjusted, Percy felt a chill run down his spine of him. In the corner of the room, a dark figure stood motionless, a silhouette barely distinguishable from the shadows around it. It felt as if the darkness itself had come alive, watching him with an eerie, silent intensity.

Percy froze, a mixture of fear and disbelief gripping him. He wanted to believe it was just a trick of the light, but the voice in his head was unmistakable, echoing with an unsettling clarity. It urged him to act, to do things he didn't want to do, and the figure seemed to pulse with an ominous presence, feeding off his fear of him.