The floor beneath his feet seemed to ripple like water, and before he could scream, he was yanked downward. His body was swallowed whole by the floor, the sensation both terrifying and surreal.
The room was gone. The table, the spheres, the dim light—all vanished. Danny's surroundings dissolved into an infinite void of darkness and cold.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he descended into the unknown, clutching the white sphere with a desperate grip.
And just before the darkness claimed him completely, a faint, otherworldly glow began to pulse from the sphere in his hand, illuminating the void around him in a soft, ghostly light.
Now, Danny found himself standing in the second-floor hallway, the dim light casting long shadows along the cracked walls.
In his hand, he still held the mysterious white sphere, its faint glow pulsating as if it had a life of its own. His mind reeled as he tried to piece together what had just happened.
"Wait… how did I get here?" he mumbled, glancing around in confusion. The last thing he remembered was being pulled into the floor, swallowed by an impossible force.
Now, he was back in the hallway as if nothing had happened.
Before he could make sense of it, a figure emerged at the far end of the corridor. It was Tia. Her expression was dark, her gaze sharp and unrelenting.
She was walking toward him slowly, deliberately, her hand gripping the hilt of a knife at her waist.
"Tia?" Danny called out, his voice breaking the eerie silence. His heart thudded in his chest as he took a step back.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
But she didn't respond. Her pace remained steady, her eyes locked on him with an intensity that sent a chill down his spine.
There was no trace of the usual Tia—no frustration, no sarcasm, just cold, unbridled anger.
Danny's breathing quickened.
"Tia, I'm serious! What are you trying to do?" His voice wavered, but Tia kept coming, the knife at her waist glinting faintly in the dim light.
Panicking, Danny dropped into a clumsy boxing stance, his free hand raised while the white sphere remained clutched in the other.
"I already said I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean for things to go that way!" He tried to reason with her, his voice cracking under the pressure.
But Tia wasn't stopping. She was only a few feet away now, her slow, deliberate steps feeling like a countdown.
Her eyes bore into him, unblinking, and Danny saw her hand shift slightly toward the knife.
"Tia, stop!" he shouted, desperation lacing his words. He could feel the tension coil in his muscles.
The hallway seemed to stretch and narrow, the air growing thick. His instincts screamed at him to act, to protect himself before she could strike.
With a cry of panic, Danny rushed forward, his fist swinging with all his might.
"Aaaahhh!" he yelled, his knuckles aimed directly at her face.
But then, everything froze.
His fist didn't connect. Instead, it passed through her face, meeting no resistance at all.
Tia's figure shimmered like smoke, her body slipping through his as though she wasn't even there. Danny stumbled, nearly losing his balance, as he turned to look behind him.
There she was, still walking away, her form unbothered, her pace unchanged. She moved farther and farther down the hallway without sparing him a glance.
"What the hell…" Danny whispered, his voice barely audible. His hand trembled as he stared at Tia's back. His chest tightened as an unthinkable question bubbled to the surface.
"Am I dead now?" he muttered to himself, his voice hollow.
The hallway seemed to close in around him, the oppressive silence pressing against his ears.
Danny stared at the glowing white sphere in his hand, its faint luminescence casting eerie shadows across his trembling fingers. The cracks on its surface seemed deeper now, as if pulsing with some unknown energy.
"Is this… the stone's doing?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible in the oppressive silence. The question lingered in his mind, heavy and unanswered.
His thoughts raced, trying to piece together what had just happened.
Summoning his courage, Danny decided to follow her.
He watched as Tia turned a corner and disappeared into Zach's bedroom.
'Why Zach's room?'
The door to Zach's room was slightly ajar, the faintest sliver of light spilling out into the hallway. Danny paused just outside, taking a slow, shaky breath to steady his nerves.
'What is she doing in there?' Danny thought as he peered inside.
...
Zach slouched on the worn-out sofa, his head tilted downward, eyes unfocused. His exhaustion was palpable, as if the weight of everything that had happened had drained him entirely.
Across from him, Tia perched on the edge of another sofa, her posture tense and her expression sharp.
"You know Danny's a problem, right?" she said, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.
Zach let out a weary sigh, barely lifting his gaze.
"Tia… please, just get out," he said, his tone low and pleading, as if he didn't have the energy for an argument.
But Tia wasn't backing down. Her voice sharpened.
"Matilda is dead because of him, Zach! He's weak—he's always been weak! How long are you going to keep babysitting him?"
Outside the room, Danny stood frozen in the dim hallway, his hand still gripping the white sphere. The words hit him like a blow to the chest. His head dropped, shame and guilt swirling in his chest like a storm.
"He's just a child," Zach replied, his voice soft, almost defensive.
Tia scoffed, her frustration boiling over.
"Don't give me that crap! You were thrice the person he is at his age, and even I'm stronger than him! How long are you going to let him drag us all down?"
Zach didn't respond immediately, his silence only fueling Danny's anguish.
Then Tia's voice shifted, quieter, but dripping with venom. "You intended to kill him, didn't you? Right after he woke up?"