Alex's eyelids fluttered open, but the darkness was overwhelming, swallowing the weak light his eyes tried to grasp. He lay flat on a surface cold and rough, neither dirt nor metal, but something alien and unsettling. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of damp earth mixed with rust. A faint, rhythmic dripping echoed somewhere in the distance — slow, deliberate — as if time itself had slowed.
His body was numb, limbs weighted down like they belonged to someone else. Panic welled up in his chest, sharp and raw, as his mind fought to wake from the fog that clouded his thoughts. He tried to move his fingers — just a twitch — and succeeded, though the effort left him gasping.
Where am I? The question was a jagged shard in his mind.
With a monumental effort, Alex pushed himself up, ignoring the screaming protest of muscles that hadn't moved in who knows how long. The faint light above was a sickly yellow glow, filtering down through a grated opening set high in the wall, too far to reach. The place was cavernous, walls rough and cracked, stretching into darkness beyond the edge of the dim light. Shadows twisted and swirled, growing and shrinking like living things.
He scanned the space, trying to understand. This was no natural cave. The walls had unnatural angles, and strange metallic veins ran through the stone, pulsing faintly with an eerie blue light. Somewhere deep inside the walls, a low hum resonated, vibrating through the ground and into his bones.
Then, a sharp crack shattered the silence — the sound of something heavy breaking, snapping. His head snapped toward the noise, heart pounding like a war drum. From the darkness emerged a figure. Tall, slender, draped in tattered robes that absorbed the meager light, the figure moved with an unnatural grace. A mask covered its face — smooth, expressionless, yet the hollow eyes burned with an otherworldly fire.
"You shouldn't have come back," the voice was low, rasping, echoing inside Alex's mind and the air at once, sending a shiver down his spine.
Alex's throat tightened. "Who… what are you?"
The figure paused, tilting its head slightly as if amused. "I am what remains when memories die. The echo of your forgotten sins."
Alex's mind reeled. Forgotten sins? What sins? His memories were fragmented — flashes of fire, screaming, and a blinding explosion before the blackness swallowed everything.
"You will remember," the figure whispered, stepping closer. "But every truth you reclaim will cost you a piece of your soul."
The words struck Alex like a physical blow. The ground trembled beneath him, dust falling from the ceiling. Cracks spiderwebbed across the cavern walls, releasing a thick, black mist that rolled out like liquid smoke, curling and twisting toward him.
Panic surged. Alex stumbled backward as the mist began to writhe and reach for him with tendrils that seemed to pulse and throb. It smelled like decay and old nightmares.
He broke into a run, heart pounding in his ears. Behind him, the voice followed, whispering dark secrets he couldn't hear but felt in every nerve.
As he ran, flashes of memory assaulted him — brief glimpses of a woman's face, soft and sad, eyes full of pain. A child's laughter turned to crying. A place filled with broken glass and blood. A name, searing and urgent: Evelyn.
Suddenly, the scream ripped through the air — sharp, desperate, filled with terror. Alex skidded to a halt, breath ragged, eyes wide. The scream was familiar — a memory, or a warning?
He turned into the fog, heart hammering, the cold mist licking his skin like icy fingers. Somewhere, deep in the shadows, the figure waited.