It's late at night, and the campus is eerily silent, the empty halls stretching out before Joy like the corridors of a forgotten tomb.
She's alone, wandering through the dimly lit campus building after an unexplained pull led her out of her room, an unshakable urge to follow the whispers drifting through her mind.
She's convinced it's Maya's influence—her voice seems woven into the shadows themselves, calling her deeper into the dark heart of the building.
She fights the urge to turn back, forcing herself forward.
Her footsteps echo as she makes her way down the main hallway, and the oppressive silence around her seems to magnify every sound.
As she rounds a corner, her eyes land on something that makes her pause.
An old wooden door, barely visible in the shadowed recesses of the hallway, slightly ajar.
She knows this building well, but she's never seen this door before.
A strange sensation washes over her, as if the air around it is thick with a sinister presence, daring her to step closer.
She hesitates, every instinct screaming at her to turn back and run back to her room.
But the faint whispering and voices grows louder, more insistent, as if pulling her forward, guiding her hand to the cold, tarnished brass handle.
Joy: (whispering) This is a mistake… but I have to know.
Steeling herself, she pushes the door open and steps inside.
The room is pitch-black, an impenetrable darkness that seems to swallow her as she crosses the threshold.
She tries looking for a light switch in the dark room but finds nothing.
Her phone's flashlight is her only source of illumination, casting a narrow beam that barely cuts through the gloom.
The air in the room is thick and stale, carrying an earthy, musty smell that reminds her of forgotten tombs and damp cemetery.
The silence is so complete it presses against her ears, making her heartbeat sound like a drumbeat in the oppressive stillness.
Her flashlight catches glimpses of the room's contents: dusty shelves lined with strange, arcane objects, scattered papers yellowed with age, and symbols drawn on the walls in a dark, almost dried substance.
She shivers, realizing the symbols match those she's seen in her nightmares, the ones Maya's group used during their rituals.*
Joy: (muttering) What… what is this place?
Suddenly, she hears a soft scuffing sound from somewhere deeper in the room.
Her breath catches, and she sweeps her flashlight across the space, searching for the source.
The light lands on a large, tarnished mirror on the far wall, its glass darkened with age.
As she approaches, she realizes the mirror isn't reflecting her properly.
Her image is distorted, her face stretched and blurred, eyes hollowed out in shadow just like what happened in her room.
The figure in the mirror seems to breathe with her, chest rising and falling, but as she stares, it begins to move independently, turning its head ever so slightly.
Joy: (backing away) No… no, this can't be real.
Her reflection smiles, the expression grotesque, far too wide, revealing teeth that seem unnaturally sharp.
Her stomach twists, nausea rolling over her as the figure in the mirror reaches out, pressing its hand against the glass to reach her.
Reflection: (whispering) You can't escape us, Joy. You brought us here… and we will never leave.
She staggers back, her flashlight flickering as the shadows seem to close in around her.
The reflection fades, replaced by another figure—a tall, dark silhouette with hollow, staring eyes. It feels like it's staring straight into her soul, its presence suffocating.
She turns to flee, but as she spins around, she finds herself no longer in the small, cramped room but standing in a long, narrow corridor.
The walls are lined with doors, each one identical, stretching endlessly in both directions.
Her breathing quickens, and she glances around, realizing she's somehow trapped in a maze.
The whispers and voices start again, faint and distant, but growing louder, as if the walls themselves are alive and speaking to her.
Voice: (echoing) Joy… this is your home now. We are waiting for you… just one step closer.
She feels a chill down her spine as the voices grow louder, a chorus of mocking, distorted laughter mingling with cries for help.
She moves forward, hoping to find a way out, her every step feeling heavier as if invisible chains are dragging her down.
She opens the nearest door, hoping it leads back to the familiar campus halls.
But as she steps through, she finds herself in a vast, empty ballroom, dimly lit by a series of chandeliers that flicker erratically, casting distorted shadows on the walls.
The ballroom is filled with mirrors, each one reflecting a twisted version of herself, their faces blank or twisted in agony.
She swallows hard, fighting the urge to scream as the reflections begin to move, stepping out of the mirrors and surrounding her.
Joy: (trembling) No… this can't be real. It's just a dream. Just a nightmare…
One of the reflections steps closer, its hollow eyes boring into her as it reaches out, fingers stretching toward her with an unnatural grace.
She stumbles back, but the reflections close in, forming a circle around her, trapping her in the center.
Reflection Leader: (coldly) You invited us, Joy. You opened the door.
She tries to respond, to defend herself, but her voice seems to be swallowed by the oppressive silence.
The reflections move closer, their hands reaching out to touch her, icy fingers brushing against her skin, leaving a trail of numbness wherever they make contact.
Suddenly, she feels a surge of anger, a spark of resistance burning within her.
She's been a victim, dragged along by Maya's twisted games, but something within her refuses to give up.
Joy: (shouting) Jesus Christ only owns me! This is my mind! I control what happens here!
Her defiance creates a pulse of energy that ripples through the room, causing the reflections to falter.
She raises her hands, focusing on that anger, that strength, as she pushes the figures back, watching as they flicker and fade, retreating into the mirrors.
The silence returns, heavy and unnatural.
The reflections are gone, but the sense of being watched remains.
She realizes she's alone in the ballroom now, and the mirrors, though empty, seem to pulse with a dark, silent energy.
Just as she feels a moment of relief, a single mirror at the end of the ballroom cracks, spider-webbing across the glass.
A figure steps out from it—Maya, her face twisted with a malevolent smile, eyes glinting with something dark and ancient.*
Maya: (softly) Did you really think you could banish me, Joy? You're in too deep. You'll never be free.
Joy's stomach twists, and for a brief moment, she considers fleeing.
But instead, she stands her ground, feeling the weight of her anger rise once again.
Joy: (determined) This ends now, Maya. You don't own me. I'm not part of your darkness but of God.
Maya laughs, a sound that seems to echo off the walls, reverberating around the empty space.
Maya: (taunting) Oh, but you already are. Every step you take brings you closer to us. You can't escape what's already inside you.
The floor begins to crack beneath her, the wood splintering as a dark, bottomless pit opens up.
Shadows writhe within it, reaching out like dark, clawed hands, grasping at her ankles. She struggles against their pull, refusing to be dragged down.
Summoning all her strength, she focuses on the memories that anchor her, that all power belong to God: the warmth of her family, the laughter of her cousin Johnny and her friends, her own identity before this nightmare began.
The shadows recoil, their grip loosening, but she knows it's not enough.
With a final surge of willpower, she turns her gaze back to Maya, her voice filled with newfound strength.
Joy: (yelling) You don't control me, Maya. I am not your vessel!
The shadows scream, an ear-piercing wail that reverberates through the ballroom as they're forced to retreat, slinking back into the cracks in the floor. Maya's face twists in anger and disbelief as she's pulled back toward the mirror, her form flickering, weakening.
Maya: (desperate) You can't break free, Joy. You'll always be one of us!
But Joy stands firm, watching as Maya is sucked back into the mirror, her form finally dissolving into darkness. The cracks in the floor seal themselves, and the oppressive weight lifts, leaving only silence.*
Joy takes a shuddering breath, her body exhausted but her spirit unbroken. She has faced the darkness and come out stronger, but she knows this is just the beginning. The shadows may return, but for now, she has won.