As the black cat led Irene through the trees, she noticed the first light of dawn creeping over the horizon. A deep unease settled in her chest—the fear of facing her mother's wrath when she returned home. But as she walked, something else began to stir within her. The air felt heavier, charged as if the wind itself were whispering secrets. An eerie, almost familiar energy pulsed around the cat, and Irene froze in her tracks, a chill running down her spine. She couldn't shake the feeling that something about the cat—something about all of this—was far from ordinary. The cat turned around, its emerald eyes locking onto Irene's. "Are you alright?" The voice echoed in Irene's mind—clear, distinct, but not her own. Her body tensed, her hand instinctively shooting to her head as she stumbled back, pressing herself against a nearby tree. "You can actually hear me?" the voice said, the cat's lips barely moving. "Took me longer than expected to pry open your mind," it continued, the words slipping into her consciousness like a dark whisper. "What... What are you?" Irene stammered, her voice trembling.

"I'm an old friend," the cat replied smoothly, its eyes glowing with an unsettling calm.

Irene's stomach dropped. A cold sweat beaded on her forehead. "I'm losing my mind," she gasped, her breath shallow.

"You think this is losing your mind?" The cat's voice turned sharp, like a snake's hiss. "Get over yourself. Let's keep moving."

Irene shook her head violently, her panic swelling. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

The cat's eyes narrowed, its voice now a low, almost taunting murmur. "Do you want to find your brother? Your friends? The one who's more than just a friend?" Irene pushed herself up, her body trembling against her better judgment. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp with uncertainty and fear.

The cat tilted its head, eyes gleaming with an unreadable depth. "My name is Madeline."

Irene's brow furrowed. "Why are you helping me?" she asked, her tone raw with suspicion. "Are you working for the shadow I saw?"

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Madeline's gaze was steady, almost pitying. Madeline let out a low, almost disdainful chuckle. "Helping you? Let's call it... guiding. As for that shadow—I don't work for it. It works for me."

Irene's breath hitched. "What do you mean? Why would it...?"

Madeline flicked its tail, cutting her off. "A simple tracking spell. That's how I found you. Now, stop wasting time with questions you're not ready to understand and follow me."Irene recoiled slightly, confusion clouding her thoughts. "A... a tracking spell?" she whispered.

Madeline nodded, a faint smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Simple enough."

"Let's keep moving. We're getting closer," Madeline said, her voice steady as she turned toward the trees. Irene hesitated, but followed, her mind racing.

"Did that tracking spell have anything to do with the couple that disappeared?" Irene asked, her voice edged with suspicion.

"Probably." Madeline's answer was almost careless, a shrug of indifference.

Irene's stomach dropped. "What?" She stared at the cat, horrified by the casualness of her words.

Madeline glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming darkly. "Don't be shocked. That's what shadow weavers do to mortals."

"Shadow weaver?" Irene repeated, her voice thick with disbelief.

Madeline's gaze hardened, her tone growing heavier. "Yes. A shadow weaver is a creature of the Shadowlands, and when they escape... when they're left unchecked, they'll consume any mortal they come across. They're the ones who create disappearances. Like that couple." Then how did you get a shadow weaver to track people?" Irene asked, her curiosity piqued, though a flicker of unease stirred in her chest.

Madeline's voice remained casual, almost too casual. "It's easy. Tracking people is what shadow weavers do. It's their nature." She glanced up at Irene with a hint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I just needed them to find you and your friends."

Irene furrowed her brow, her steps slowing. "Why?"

Madeline's gaze remained steady as she walked beside her. "Because you're tangled up in all of this now," she said matter-of-factly. "You don't get to walk away from a path that's already chosen for you."

Irene's breath caught as they emerged from the trees onto a highway, the sounds of traffic distant but real. She stopped, looking at the road like it might be her only way out.

Madeline didn't slow her pace. "You should call for help. You're lost, after all," she said, her voice soft but carrying an undertone of knowing. Irene checked her phone, relieved to finally see a signal. Her fingers trembled as she dialed 9-1-1. The phone rang, the sound filling her ears with an unsettling calm. But as she waited, her gaze shifted—The cat was gone.