Then there's this one: here she was, inked onto the cursed pages of this book.
He turned the page in trembling hands. More words:
"She tried to leave? but the book wouldn't let go."
Tears stung his eyes. Was she trapped? Had it taken her, the same force now playing with him?
He ran his fingers over her name. The ink shifted beneath his touch, swirling, reforming:
"She is still waiting."
Then, a whisper in the dark.
"Alex?"
His blood turned to ice.
It was her voice.