Ethan sat at the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall as the events of the night replayed in his mind. His apartment, usually a refuge from the chaos of his work life, felt strangely oppressive now. The soft hum of the city outside couldn't drown out the whisper of unease that had settled deep in his chest.
He rubbed his temples, trying to shake the heaviness that had followed him home. It was just a bad date, he told himself. A strange, unsettling date with a woman who had turned out to be a little too interested in morbid curiosities. It wasn't the end of the world.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that it had been more than that. The way Lila spoke, the way her eyes seemed to pierce through him, knowing, waiting—he had never felt anything like it before. Her words echoed in his mind, soft and unassuming, yet laced with something darker.
We'll meet again soon.
A shiver crawled up his spine, and Ethan stood abruptly, pacing the small space of his bedroom. His reflection in the mirror across the room caught his eye, and for a brief moment, he didn't recognize the man staring back at him. His face was pale, his eyes wide and restless. He looked like someone who had just narrowly escaped something—something dangerous.
He walked over to his desk, the need for distraction gnawing at him. Anything to keep his mind from circling back to the strange grip Lila had on him. Ethan booted up his laptop, the familiar glow of the screen offering a momentary sense of normalcy. But as he sat down and his fingers hovered over the keys, his thoughts drifted back to the night's conversation.
That group she mentioned. The words rolled around in his mind, stirring an uncomfortable curiosity. What had she called it? An online community, but not just any group. They discussed forbidden rituals, dark arts, the thin line between life and death. At the time, he'd laughed it off, hoping it was just a joke. But Lila hadn't been joking.
He pulled up his search engine, hesitating for a moment before typing in the words that had been haunting him since they parted ways.
"Death rituals, necromancy online groups."
The results were immediate—countless pages, articles, and forums dedicated to everything from ancient death practices to modern occultism. Ethan's heart raced as he clicked through, scanning the information. He hadn't expected this. It was real. All of it.
There were communities—hidden, carefully curated spaces on the dark web—where people obsessed over death, studied it, revered it. The more he read, the clearer it became that Lila's fascination with mortality wasn't just some quirky interest. She was part of something far darker.
Ethan found himself diving deeper, following link after link, unraveling thread after thread of information. Each click brought him closer to the truth, and with each new discovery, his dread grew. The group Lila mentioned wasn't just a chatroom for the curious. It was an underground society—one that practiced the very things she had hinted at during their conversation. Forbidden rituals, some involving the dead. Some involving the living.
His hand hovered over the mouse, frozen as the gravity of what he was reading began to sink in. He clicked on a link to a forum post, the title chillingly familiar: The Art of Returning: Necromancy and the Study of Life After Death.
The post was filled with pages of detailed accounts from anonymous users, people sharing experiences that ranged from academic to disturbingly personal. Some spoke of old texts and forgotten rituals, while others claimed to have performed the rites themselves. They weren't just curious—they were believers. Practitioners.
Ethan's stomach turned as he scrolled down to the comments section. One username jumped out at him: LilaAurelia. His blood ran cold.
It was her.
He clicked on her profile, his heart pounding in his chest as he scrolled through her posts. Lila had been active in the group for years, sharing her knowledge of death rituals from around the world, offering advice, and discussing the moral implications of resurrection practices. Her posts were articulate, precise—eerily similar to the way she had spoken to him earlier tonight.
But it was one post in particular that made his blood freeze.
"Some things are better left buried, but others… they are meant to rise."
Ethan felt the world tilt slightly as the words sank in. This wasn't just some academic interest for her. She believed in it—deeply. She was invested, and from the looks of it, involved far more intimately than he could have imagined. His mind raced with the possibilities. Had she done it? Had she... tried?
His hands shook as he closed the browser, his breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. He had to stop. He had to get away from this. From her.
But the question gnawed at him, refusing to be silenced. Why had she chosen him? Why tonight, of all nights, had their paths crossed? Was it really a coincidence, or had she orchestrated the whole thing? And if so—why?
The silence of his apartment felt oppressive now, suffocating in its stillness. He stood up, pacing again, his mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. He had to decide—confront her, ask her directly what she wanted, or walk away and forget any of this ever happened.
But the idea of confronting her, of hearing more of those unsettling truths from her lips, made his skin crawl. What if he was already in too deep? What if walking away wasn't an option anymore?
A faint sound broke the silence, pulling Ethan from his thoughts. His phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a message.
It was from an unknown number.
"I know you're curious. Don't be afraid to ask."
Ethan's breath caught in his throat. He stared at the message, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears he thought it might burst. He didn't need to ask who it was. He knew.
Lila.
The fear that had been gnawing at him all night swelled into full-blown panic. She knew. She knew he had been digging, reading, trying to uncover her secrets. And now she was reaching out, as if daring him to go deeper, to find out just how far this rabbit hole went.
He slammed his phone face down on the table, backing away as if it might explode. His chest tightened, his breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. He couldn't do this. He couldn't—
But even as the panic gripped him, a small, insidious thought crept into the back of his mind.
What if you're already part of this? What if there's no way out?
Ethan swallowed hard, his body trembling with fear. He knew what he had to do. He had to make a choice—walk away now, forget this ever happened, or confront the darkness head-on and find out what Lila really wanted from him.
Either way, the game had already begun.