the wind blows (7)

He freezes, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he turns toward the sound, his eyes narrowing. “Show yourself,” he says, his voice firm now. “I know you’re here.”

The wind howls once more, rushing through the open door and extinguishing the faint light of the setting sun. Shadows stretch and shift, playing tricks on the eyes.

The man stands his ground, his fists clenched at his sides. A figure emerges from the darkness, indistinct and wavering like smoke. It hovers at the edge of the room, neither fully present nor entirely absent. The man takes a step forward, his jaw set.“It’s you, isn’t it?” he says, his voice softer now.