The room I found myself in was both familiar and alien, a ghostly replica of a place I thought I had left behind long ago. The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, and the dim light from a single flickering bulb cast long shadows across the peeling wallpaper. My heart pounded as I slowly turned around, dreading what I might see.
There, standing in the corner, was a figure shrouded in darkness. For a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The shadows clung to the figure, obscuring their face, but I knew who it was. The voice that had called my name was unmistakable.
"Is it really you?" I whispered, my voice trembling. The figure didn't respond immediately, but I could feel their gaze piercing through the darkness, staring right into my soul.
The shadows shifted, and as they did, I caught a glimpse of their face. My breath hitched in my throat. It was impossible, yet there they were—exactly as I remembered them, unchanged by time. It was like staring into a mirror of the past, a reflection of everything I had tried to forget.
"Why are you here?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "You… you're supposed to be gone."
The figure took a step forward, the floorboards creaking under their weight. Their face was clearer now, and the emotions that twisted across their features were a mix of sadness, anger, and something else—something darker. I wanted to run, to turn away and escape the nightmare that was unfolding before me, but my feet were rooted to the spot.
"I never left," the figure said, their voice a haunting echo of the past. "You just buried me, pushed me away, pretended I didn't exist. But you can't escape me. Not now, not ever."
The accusation in their voice cut through me like a knife. I had tried to forget, to move on, but deep down, I knew they were right. The memories I had buried, the choices I had made—all of it had led me to this moment.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. "I didn't mean to—"
"Didn't mean to what?" the figure interrupted, their voice rising. "Didn't mean to forget? Didn't mean to leave me behind? You left me to rot in the darkness while you tried to live your life. But now… now it's my turn."
The shadows in the room seemed to pulse, growing darker and more oppressive. The walls closed in, the air thickening with each passing second. The figure took another step toward me, and I instinctively backed away, my mind racing. This wasn't real—it couldn't be. But the fear, the guilt, the memories—they all felt so real, so tangible.
As the figure drew closer, I realized with growing horror that their features were beginning to change. Their face, once so familiar, was warping, twisting into something grotesque. The eyes that had once been full of life were now hollow and empty, the skin stretched tight over a skull that seemed to be decaying before my eyes.
"You can't run from me," the figure rasped, their voice distorted, unnatural. "You can't hide from what you've done."
"I'm sorry," I choked out, my voice trembling. "I'm so sorry…"
But the figure was relentless. They reached out, their hand skeletal, bony fingers grasping at the air between us. I could feel the cold emanating from them, a chill that seeped into my bones, freezing me in place. The darkness around us grew thicker, the walls pressing in, and I knew that if I didn't do something, I would be consumed by it—by them.
Desperation surged through me. I looked around wildly, searching for anything that could help me, anything that could break this twisted hold on me. My eyes fell on the book, still lying on the ground where I had dropped it when the floor had given way.
With a burst of energy, I lunged for it, my fingers closing around the worn cover just as the figure's hand brushed against my arm. A shock of cold shot through me, but I ignored it, focusing on the book. The words on the page had changed again, forming a new sentence that sent a chill down my spine:
**"Reveal the truth, or be consumed by the lies."**
The figure snarled, a sound that was both human and inhuman, and I knew I had to act quickly. I didn't know what the words meant exactly, but I had no choice but to follow them. My fingers trembling, I began to speak, the words tumbling out of me in a rush.
"I never meant to forget you," I said, my voice stronger now. "I never meant to leave you behind. But I was scared. Scared of what you'd become, scared of the memories. I buried them, I buried you, but I'm here now. I'm here to face the truth."
The figure froze, their hand hovering just inches from my face. For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the ragged breaths escaping my lips. Then, slowly, the figure began to dissolve, the shadows peeling away from them like layers of skin.
Their face—no, **my** face—stared back at me, a twisted mirror of the person I had once been. And as the last of the shadows fell away, I saw the truth reflected in their eyes. This was the part of me I had tried to forget, the part of me that had been consumed by guilt, by fear, by regret. It was a part of me that had festered in the darkness, growing more twisted and monstrous with each passing year.
"I'm sorry," I said again, my voice barely above a whisper. But this time, it was different. This time, I meant it.
The figure smiled, a sad, broken smile, and then they were gone, dissipating into the air like mist. The room around me seemed to sigh in relief, the walls straightening, the oppressive darkness lifting.
But the relief was short-lived. The floor beneath me began to tremble again, cracks spidering out from where I stood. I had barely a moment to react before the ground gave way, and I was falling once more, plummeting into the abyss.
As I fell, the world around me dissolved into darkness. But this time, I wasn't alone. A voice echoed through the void—my own voice, twisted and distorted, taunting me. "You can't escape," it whispered, growing louder and louder until it was a deafening roar. "You can never escape the past." The darkness closed in, suffocating, relentless, and just as I felt myself being pulled under, a flash of light pierced the void, and I was yanked back into the waking world. But the voice remained, lingering in my mind, a constant reminder that the nightmare was far from over.