"The same place... I've come back here again."
The words echoed in my mind as I floated in an abyss of pitch-black darkness. My senses were non-existent, my body gone—nothing but a disembodied consciousness adrift in the void.
The last time I was here had been mere moments ago, or perhaps hours—it was impossible to tell. That had been when the statues had trapped everyone in a hallucination spell. I barely survived then, only to find myself back here now. My body, burnt beyond recognition, lay somewhere in the real world, useless and broken.
But the physical pain wasn't what cut the deepest. No, the ache in my chest was far worse, a searing betrayal that twisted like a blade.
It wasn't a monster that brought me to this state—it was Cedric Veymar.
Rage and frustration coursed through me. What had I done to deserve this? Was this because of the disgusting liquid I splashed on him? No. That wasn't the reason. He'd hated me from the start, masking his disdain with feigned civility. Now, with me out of the way, he'd assume leadership, controlling everything without opposition.
I tried to dismiss the thoughts, but they clawed at me like a feral beast. My mind circled endlessly, desperate for answers that wouldn't come.
It didn't matter, I told myself bitterly. Even if a miracle happened—if a healer found me and defeated the darkness-oozing monster dragging me into oblivion—I wouldn't survive long in my current state.
"It's over."
But then the void shifted. The world itself seemed to twist and fold, and suddenly, I felt it—the slow return of sensation. A body began to form around me, my senses returning one by one.
This time, however, something was different. My eyes. They weren't stitched shut like before. I could see.
And the first thing I saw sent a shiver down my spine.
Sitting opposite me at a small, battered table was a tall boy. A single, flickering light bulb swayed above us, casting eerie shadows across his face. He looked... familiar. Too familiar.
I glanced down at myself. I was seated at the same table, my body strangely intact. But when I looked around, I realized the room itself was far from ordinary. Dust coated every surface, the wooden floor creaked with even the faintest movement, and cobwebs stretched across the corners of the ceiling like skeletal hands. The flickering lights seemed ready to give out at any moment, plunging us into darkness.
"Ah, so much fun," the boy said suddenly, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence.
My head snapped toward him. My breath caught in my throat as I truly took him in.
He looked exactly like me.
He sat casually, his posture exuding a confidence that bordered on arrogance. His legs were shackled to the ground, chains rattling softly with his movements. His uncanny resemblance sent waves of anxiety and panic coursing through me.
"Stop gawking at me, you trash," he spat, his words laced with disdain.
The sharpness of his tone snapped me out of my stupor.
"I painstakingly pulled you out of that hallucination trap, and this is what you do? Die an hour later? Pathetic."
His palm slammed against the table with a thunderous crack, and I flinched. His eyes—previously identical to mine—turned an inky, soul-devouring black. My chair screeched as I instinctively pushed myself back, trying to create distance.
He let out a slow, shuddering breath and covered his eyes with one hand. After a moment, he visibly calmed, though the aura of menace around him lingered.
"Are you going to sit there mute, or do you plan on saying something useful?"
I forced myself to speak. "Who... who are you? Why do you look like me?"
He sighed, his expression a mixture of irritation and boredom. "I'm not answering that for the hundredth time."
"…Hundredth time?" My heart sank as the implications hit me. "Are you saying my memories are being erased?"
The boy smirked, his amusement evident.
Then another thought hit me like a lightning strike. "You—" My voice rose in anger as I shot up from my chair. "Did you erase the six years of my life that I can't remember?!"
The boy's smirk disappeared. He raised his hand lazily, as if swatting a fly. "Sit down, mongrel."
Before I could react, an invisible force slammed me back into my chair. The impact left me breathless, my body refusing to move no matter how hard I struggled.
"Listen carefully," he said, his voice low and venomous. "You're not here to accuse me. You're here because you're weak, because you can't survive without me."
My breathing grew ragged as anger mixed with fear. "What do you want from me?"
"What I want," he said, leaning forward, "is for you to stop being a disappointment. You've wasted every chance I've given you. And now, because of your pathetic trust in others, you're at death's door again."
His words struck like daggers, each one cutting deeper than the last.
"That bastard Cedric betrayed you, and what did you do? Nothing. You let him. You're too soft, too naïve."
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "I don't need your lectures."
He laughed, the sound cold and hollow. "Oh, but you do. Because without me, you're nothing."
"Then why save me?" I shot back, my voice trembling. "If I'm as useless as you say, why bother pulling me out of that trap?"
His grin widened, and for a moment, his black eyes gleamed with something almost playful.
"Because your death is inconvenient for me. Don't get any delusions of grandeur. I didn't save you out of kindness."
I wanted to scream, to fight, to resist, but the invisible force held me firmly in place, as if my body had been shackled to the very chair I sat in.
"It doesn't matter," I spat, finally letting the weight of despair settle over me. My voice was hollow, barely audible. "Even if my death is inconvenient for you, it's far too late now. My body's beyond saving. Even if you send me back, there's no point. I won't survive."
The boy across from me tilted his head, his dark eyes shimmering with a hint of amusement.
"Yeah," he said, his voice eerily calm, "you're right. There's no point in sending you back."
The words hit me like a sledgehammer. Hearing them from him made the reality of my situation sink in deeper.
"So... that's it?" I whispered, my chest tightening. "It's the end?"
A slow, deliberate smile spread across his face, cold and predatory.
"No," he said, standing up, the chains shackled to his legs rattling with the movement. "That's why this time, I'll be going."
I froze. His words sent a chill crawling up my spine.
"What… what do you mean?" I asked, dread pooling in my stomach. "How can you go in my place?"
"Because I am you," he replied, his tone laced with an unsettling certainty.
The chains fell away from his legs with an unnatural clatter, and he took a step forward, the room seeming to tremble with his presence.
"Ask me to help," he said, his voice now a low, commanding growl. "Only then can I act."
My throat tightened. I hesitated.
The idea of letting him—this thing—take control of my body made my blood run cold. What if he never gave it back? What if I became nothing more than a passenger, watching my own life unfold through his decisions? Doubts clawed at my mind, each one louder and more suffocating than the last.
"Hey, mongrel," he snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut through my spiraling thoughts. "I'm not going to stand here and waste my time while you have some grand moral debate within yourself. If you want to rot in this void, be my guest. Your body is useless to me. I gain nothing from keeping it. This is your choice."
His words stung, but they forced me to think clearly. My options were limited—no, nonexistent. If I stayed here, I'd die, and Megan… I'd never find her. What if she needed me? What if she was out there somewhere, waiting for help that would never come?
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I made my decision.
"Can you save me?" I asked, my voice shaking with both hope and trepidation.
An unnerving smile spread across his face, and his eyes flickered between their natural hue and that haunting blackness.
"Of course," he said, the words dripping with confidence.
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the knot of fear twisting in my gut.
"Then help me," I said, my voice firmer than before.
The moment the words left my lips, the entire room began to tremble violently. The floor cracked beneath his feet, and the chains that had once bound him shattered into nothingness.
"Ah," he said, stretching his legs with exaggerated satisfaction. "It's been a while."
The air around him seemed to pulse with energy, a tangible shift in the atmosphere that made my skin crawl.
He turned to me, his smile wide and unnerving. "Good boy," he said, his tone mocking but strangely proud. "Now, sit tight and enjoy the show."
With a casual gesture, he tapped the table between us. The surface shimmered and morphed, revealing a horrifying scene playing out like a macabre theater.
I stared at the image forming on the table—a projection of the real world. My battered body was being dragged mercilessly through the forest by the darkness-oozing monster. Its twisted, clawed hand gripped me like a lifeless doll. My skin, or what remained of it, was burned, torn, and covered in dirt. The grotesque creature moved with a strange determination, its shroud of black mist twisting and writhing like a living entity.
A sickening mix of horror and helplessness churned in my stomach.
"You see that?" the boy said, leaning over the table with a gleam in his eye, his tone almost casual. "That's your body. Pathetic, isn't it?"
I didn't respond. My throat felt like it was closing, and all I could do was watch as the monster dragged what was left of me deeper into the forest.
"Well," he said, straightening up, "time for me to get to work."
Before I could process what he meant, the boy began to sink into the ground. His body dissolved slowly, the darkness swallowing him piece by piece. He smiled one last time, his eyes flickering with that unsettling black hue.
"Don't miss me too much," he said, his voice echoing faintly as his form disappeared completely.
The room fell silent again, and I was alone, left to stare at the flickering projection on the table. My thoughts raced, filled with equal parts dread and hope. Who—or what—was this being? Could he really save me? Or was I simply handing over my body to a monster worse than the ones stalking the cursed lands?