Chapter 7: Shadows of the Night

After a long, draining day, Bucky headed home on foot, taking his usual route through the quiet streets. Normally, the cool evening air helped him relax, a chance to clear his mind, but tonight, something felt different.

As he walked, the streetlights around him began to flicker. A cold breeze swept through, prickling his skin and sending an eerie chill up his spine. He glanced around, pulling his jacket tighter, but the feeling only intensified. The empty street around him seemed to shift, blurring at the edges. The sidewalk stretched and twisted, and the trees lining the path melted into ominous stone walls, dark and looming.

“What...?” Bucky whispered, stopping in his tracks.

The street had transformed. It was no longer the familiar path to his apartment but something far more ancient—a narrow stone passage leading toward a towering castle that seemed to emerge from the mist. His heart raced as he looked up, seeing the twisted, gothic architecture he recognized from his dream. The castle loomed over him, dark and silent, a shadow in the night.

Bucky’s breathing quickened. He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “It’s not real… It’s not real…” then lay down on the ground, pressing himself to the cold pavement, hoping it would ground him back to reality.

For a moment, everything was silent. He hesitated, feeling the rough texture of the street beneath his hands, the familiar coolness of the night. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

The castle was gone. The street had returned to normal—the familiar lampposts, the rows of parked cars, the distant sound of the city humming around him. He scrambled to his feet, glancing around as if expecting something to jump out of the shadows, then hurried toward his building, his heart thundering.

When he finally reached his room, he collapsed onto his bed, still rattled by what he had seen. Just as he was starting to calm down, a faint, eerie sound drifted through the walls. A low, haunting chorus of voices, wailing, like someone crying out in agony.

“What is that?” he whispered to himself, sitting up and feeling a chill settle over him.

The crying grew louder, filling his ears with its mournful, unearthly tones. The room felt cold, unnaturally so, and goosebumps crawled up his arms. His mind raced. Was this another vision? A hallucination? Or was it something worse?

Gathering his courage, he got out of bed, moving slowly toward the door. With every step, the sound seemed to grow, echoing in his ears until it felt like it was coming from inside him. He opened the door to the hallway, his heart pounding as he followed the sound down the hall and to his neighbors’ door.

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There, he stopped. He could hear voices inside—laughter, talking… It was just his neighbors, their family watching a movie. The crying and wailing were just part of the film, nothing supernatural or sinister.

Bucky exhaled in relief, feeling a bit silly. “Just my imagination,” he muttered, trying to shake off the lingering unease. He went back to his room, though he couldn’t quite shake the memory of that haunting sound. Even as he lay back down, a faint uneasiness stayed with him.

Trying to clear his head, he took his phone and dialed his parents. The phone rang a few times before his mother picked up.

“Bucky! Hi, honey, it’s late. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, forcing a smile even though she couldn’t see it. “Just wanted to check in. How are you and Dad?”

“Oh, we’re fine,” his mom replied, sounding a little surprised by the call. “Your dad’s watching his sports, same as always. How’s work going, sweetheart?”

“It’s good,” he replied, his tone softening as he listened to her familiar voice. “Just… you know, adjusting.”

They chatted a bit longer, Bucky feeling reassured by the normalcy of their conversation. When he finally hung up, he took a deep breath and lay back down, feeling a bit more grounded.

Shortly after, the door opened, and Richard walked in. He looked exhausted but managed a smile as he tossed his keys onto the table.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” Richard asked, kicking off his shoes and flopping into a chair.

Bucky gave a tired smile. “You know, the usual. Just work and…” He hesitated, not wanting to get into the night’s strange events.

Richard raised an eyebrow, giving him a sly grin. “And Stacey? How’s that going? Did you see her today?”

Bucky chuckled, feeling his cheeks warm. “Yeah, we met up for lunch. She’s… she’s amazing, you know? Makes the day a little brighter.”

Richard laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good to hear, my guy. About time you had someone who makes you smile like that.”

They talked a bit longer, the familiar banter easing Bucky’s nerves. Soon, they both climbed into their beds, turning off the lights. The room fell into darkness, and after a while, the only sounds were their soft breaths.

But in the middle of the night, Bucky stirred, his dreams taking a dark turn once more. Half-asleep, he whispered into the silence.

“Azur… Azur…”

A sudden kick jolted him awake.

“Bucky, dude, what the hell?” Richard’s sleepy voice grumbled from across the room. “You’re saying some weird name in your sleep, man. Who’s Azur?”

Bucky sat up, rubbing his eyes, feeling a strange, lingering chill. “What?” he murmured, confused. “Azur? I… I don’t even know what that means.”

Richard rolled his eyes, muttering, “Whatever, man. Just don’t start sleep-talking weird stuff, okay?” He flopped back down and pulled the blanket over his head, drifting back to sleep almost immediately.

But Bucky couldn’t shake the name. He sat there in the dark, feeling a strange, heavy presence. Something about that name, Azur, hung over him, filling him with an indescribable dread. He reached for the glass of water on his bedside table, taking a sip to calm his nerves, then lay back down, pulling the blanket close.

Eventually, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted back to sleep.