Irynefer stood at the edge of the high-rise skyscraper, the wind whipping her hair into a frenzy as she gazed at the world she was about to leave behind. The city sprawled before her like a canvas of twinkling lights, a million tiny stars that seemed to mock her with their beauty. Twenty-eight years of pain, suffering, and being tossed around like a rag doll.

The concrete beneath her feet was cold and unforgiving, just like the chilly air of the night. She felt like a ghost drifting through it all, invisible and insignificant.

Her heart felt like lead, her lungs burned from holding her breath, and her legs trembled beneath her. Memories she thought she'd long buried rose to the surface like bloated corpses. The feel of rough hands on her skin, the taste of dirt and fear, the sound of her own screams echoing off the walls.

Taking a deep breath, she felt her chest tighten with anticipation. She closed her eyes, and a small, serene smile began to spread across her face, creating an almost ghostly image. She longed to surrender to the abyss below, to let her body shatter into a million pieces. She yearned for the sweet release of pain from the darkness that had haunted her for so long. Her bones ached to snap, her skull to crack, her organs to rupture, and her consciousness to fade into the afterlife forever.

She imagined her brain splattering against the concrete, her thoughts leaking out like blood from a wounded animal. She pictured her heart, that stubborn organ, finally still, its beats silenced forever as her crushed ribs pierced through it. She envisioned her lungs, those fragile sacs, deflating like punctured balloons as her breath escaped in a final, futile gasp, and her eyes rolling back in her head, as the light of day faded into eternal night. This was it—the end of the chapter for her, the final sentence in the book of her life.

And then, she fell. 

Time seemed to slow as she hurtled towards the ground. The air rushed past her with a deafening roar that filled her ears. She felt weightless and free, yet simultaneously suffocating under the crushing weight of her despair. The sensation of plummeting was overwhelming, accompanied by the thrilling rush of fear and excitement coursing through her racing heart. The wind whipped her hair into a frenzy, and its force caused tears to stream from her eyes.

Suddenly, her body tensed and her muscles braced for the impact.

And then, she felt it... The impact of her body hitting the floor. But it wasn't the crunch of bone, the splat of flesh, that she expected. It was something else entirely.

Instead, she felt herself being pulled into a pitch-black abyss, with the world above vanishing into the distance. The sensation was similar to being engulfed by a vast, churning body of water, with powerful currents swirling around her with the only difference being that she wasn't drowning.

She felt disoriented like a puzzle tossed into the air with its pieces fluttering down in chaotic disarray. Her stomach lurched, and a wave of nausea washed over her as if her very insides were twisting and churning. Her head spun with a sense of vertigo and the world around her became a blur, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes whirling together in a maddening dance. She was falling, yet not falling, suspended in a state of weightless suspension, as if time itself had paused, leaving her hovering in mid-air, yet heavy with the burden of her existence.

Was this the afterlife? Was she dead?

Before she could process the thought, she landed with a jarring thud on a tangled bed of branches. Her clothes snagged on the sharp limbs, and she grunted in pain as they tore through her flesh. Instinctively, she raised her arm to shield her face, bracing for impact. But instead of hitting the ground, she felt her body cradled against something hard and unyielding. She opened her eyes slowly and found herself staring into the face of a man who seemed chiseled from the shadows themselves.

His eyes were black as coal, his skin pale as the moon. His features were chiseled, sharp, and unforgiving, like the edge of a blade. Towering over her, his presence crushed the air from her lungs, leaving her breathless and trembling.

"Who are you?" she croaked, her voice barely audible. He didn't respond, just stared… his gaze pierced through her like a knife and made her feel like an insect pinned under a microscope, helpless and exposed.

Suddenly, he reached out a hand and closed his fingers around her wrist like a vice. She tried to pull away, but he held her fast, unyielding his grip.

"Where am I?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

 "You're in a place where the living aren't welcome," he whispered huskily and dropped her harshly.

She landed on her feet with a grunt and her heart raced with fear. What did he mean? Where was she? And why did she feel like she was staring into the face of death itself?