The story
Sleep had never meant rest for Julián. Nearly every night, as soon as drowsiness overtook him, his mind turned into a receiving station tuning in dozens of strange voices. They were muffled whispers, half-finished sentences, and distant wails all fighting to make themselves heard at the same time, like a crowd crammed behind a door left ajar in the gloom of his dreams.
None of this was a coincidence or a sleep disorder. Julián recognized himself as a medium, an involuntary yet conscious go-between for the living and those who no longer belonged to this plane. On his nightstand sat several white quartz crystals and amethysts he used in his spiritual connection exercises, trying to channel those invisible currents that others dismissed as mere superstition. He thought he had a handle on the subtle realm, until one early morning when the veil tore with overwhelming clarity.
In the middle of that usual dreamlike din, where faceless presences jostled without clarity, the spectral chorus suddenly went dead silent. A thick, icy quiet cut through the dream. That was when he felt the suffocating closeness of someone right against his ear. A child’s voice—clear, pure, and chillingly close—whispered straight into his ear with the cadence of an impossible secret.
The proximity was so jarring that Julián snapped his eyes open. His breath caught in his throat to the creak of the wood. The room was submerged in the bluish gloom of three in the morning, but the air felt thick, charged with a vibration that made his skin crawl. He didn't need to stare to understand what was happening: the manifestation hadn't stayed trapped in the dream. Right there, stationed at the edge of his bed within reach of his feet, lingered the presence of the little girl, watching him in the dead silence of the room.
Anyone else would have frozen in terror or dived under the covers to wait for sunrise, but Julián didn't feel afraid. There was no room inside him for trembling; instead, a deep territorial instinct surfaced, a cold fury at this brazen invasion of his living space. He knew full well that in the game of energies, fear feeds the intruder and grants a borrowed power that is later impossible to take back.
Without hesitating, he clenched his jaw and locked his eyes onto the invisible yet heavy silhouette hovering at the edge of the mattress. Tensing the muscles in his neck, with a savage hostility rising from his chest, he began to let out a deep, threatening, guttural growl, like a cornered animal that would rather attack than give up a single inch. It was a low roar, packed with pure rage, an explicit warning that in that bed it would find neither shelter nor surrender.
He held the aggression for several seconds, defying the empty air with eyes burning with determination. The effect was instantaneous: the heavy weight pressing down on the room began to disperse like smoke swept away by a draft. The icy chill loosened its grip, and the sensation of a child's presence vanished completely into the corners of the room. Julián fell silent, swallowed hard, and settled back under the sheets, certain that for the rest of that night, no one else would try to speak to him.
