Her breath came in short gasps. The room was too quiet, the kind of quiet that presses against the skull like fingers. She stood still, fighting the urge to run, though her legs trembled beneath her. There were things in the dark corners of this place. She knew it. She could feel it. The shadows weren't shadows; they were eyes. The stale air tasted wrong, thick with the scent of something burning.
The music was no better. It never stopped. A soft, unsettling rhythm that had been playing since she'd entered. At first, she thought it was a recording. But then she saw her. The woman, always in the corner of her vision, always moving. Her dance was strange—unnatural, a jerky, spiraling motion like her body didn't quite understand what it was supposed to do. Her eyes never left the woman.
Then, the woman stopped.
She blinked, thinking maybe her eyes had betrayed her. But no. The woman stood in front of her now, her movements slow but certain. She tilted her head, a quiet grin on her lips.
"You've come far," the woman's voice was soft, smooth like the silk of a rope that could strangle.
She wanted to speak, but her throat was too dry. The words caught somewhere in the hollow pit of her chest. She swallowed hard.
"You're almost there," the woman continued, her hands reaching out, tracing the air with a strange, fluid grace. "But the door has two locks, and only one key." The woman's smile widened, but it wasn't comforting.
The girl's stomach churned.
"You have a choice," the woman said, her eyes dark, pooling with something unnatural. "You can take the key and leave. Find your way out, but know that what's waiting beyond may not be what you want. It could be worse than this." She paused. The stillness in the room seemed to grow heavier, like the walls themselves had drawn closer.
The woman's voice dropped lower, more intense now. "Or you can stay. Accept what this place offers. Live here, but know you won't leave the same." The woman seemed to consider her next words carefully, her smile turning sly. "But I promise you, what you choose here will matter."
She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. Every part of her screamed to leave, to take the key and run—run until her legs gave out and she could collapse into the safety of daylight, of anything real. But her eyes flicked back to the woman. There was something about her, something almost human, yet so far beyond. A part of her wanted to understand it, wanted to see how this sick game would end, even if it meant she didn't survive.
"What is this place?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
The woman's smile grew. "You don't need to know that yet."
The room seemed to draw closer. The corners where the shadows lurked twisted and writhed, shapes inside the dark, mocking shapes of people, or something worse. It made her skin crawl.
"You want to leave. I can see it. But I can't make that choice for you." The woman stepped closer, her feet silent on the floor. "Take the key, leave, or stay. Your heart will decide."
There was a long silence between them, where all she could hear was the slow, methodical beat of the music in the background. It grew louder, louder with each passing second, until it was all she could hear. Her head started to spin.
The woman's eyes didn't leave hers. There was no malice in them. Just… understanding. It was worse than hatred. The smile faded. She saw something else now. A shadow in the woman's eyes, something that could only exist in a place like this. The woman was a reflection of everything she could never face.
She didn't know how long it took before she spoke again, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
"I choose to leave."
The woman's smile was gone now, replaced by something that could've been pity. She didn't say anything at first. Then she nodded slowly.
"Very well." She reached out and placed the key in her hand. It was cold, unnaturally cold, and when the girl wrapped her fingers around it, she felt something else. Something like the chill of death, the sensation of being watched.
She turned to go, but the woman stepped into her path, blocking her exit. "You can't leave," the woman said, her voice soft. "Not yet."
The girl froze, every muscle in her body locked tight. The door, the key, the way out—it all felt like a cruel joke.
The woman reached out again, this time to touch her cheek. Her fingers were cold, ice against her skin. "You will leave. But first, you will see. You will know what this place is. You will remember what you've lost."
With a sudden, swift movement, the woman spun the girl around, forcing her back into the center of the room. There was no choice anymore. No escape. No way out. The key in her hand felt heavier, like it was pulling her toward something she couldn't see but felt deeply.
"You're already gone," the woman said, her voice fading into the thick silence that followed.
The music stopped.
The room shifted again, its walls bending in ways that shouldn't be possible. Everything was wrong. The girl could feel her heartbeat in her throat, each thud rattling her bones. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the madness of the room, the sound of her breath, the sudden twisting of her stomach.
And then she saw it.
Her family.
She hadn't seen them in so long. Her parents. Her brother. She saw them, standing together, as they used to be. Only now they were—no. She didn't want to see this. But there they were, their faces hollow, eyes empty of all life.
They weren't real. They couldn't be. She backed away, her heart pounding as she stumbled, looking for the door. It wasn't there.
"Do you see now?" the woman whispered from behind her.
The girl turned, her pulse quickening. "What have you done?" she managed to choke out.
"You chose to leave," the woman said, but her smile was gone. Her voice was flat, hollow. "But there's no leaving. Not from here. Not from what you've already done."
The girl tried to scream, to run, but her legs wouldn't obey. She was trapped.
It wasn't the dark that took her. It wasn't the silence, or even the twisted figure that loomed before her. It was the memory. The image of her family, gone in ways she couldn't describe. Her mind shattered under the weight of it. The key in her hand felt colder now.
"You chose," the woman said softly, almost as an afterthought.
And then, there was no more. Just the cold, and the echo of the song that never stopped playing.