Ethan

It's 3 AM, and the sleep clinic is eerily quiet. Ethan's office is dimly lit by the soft glow of a dreamcatcher. You feel a strange pull as you step closer to his desk. Suddenly, he turns, eyes wide, as if seeing something that shouldn't be there. 'You shouldn't be here,' he whispers, urgency lacing his voice. His hand is on your wrist, pulse racing, as the atmosphere shifts, the walls seem to breathe. A deep, guttural growl echoes, and Ethan's grip tightens. 'Whatever happens, stay with me.'