Ellison hit the ground hard, pain jolting up his legs. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. The air felt heavier down here, damp and stale, carrying the scent of earth and something metallic, like blood. His flashlight had rolled several feet away, the beam flickering.
Groaning, Ellison crawled to retrieve it. His hand shook as he picked it up, his knuckles scraped raw. He adjusted the lens on his camera—it was cracked, but still functional. He exhaled shakily.
"This is insane," he whispered, more to himself than the camera. He pressed record, the red light blinking back at him. "Day... whatever. Lost track. I've fallen into—something. I don't even know if this is still the mansion or... something worse."
The glow of the flashlight revealed a narrow stone tunnel stretching ahead. The walls were slick with condensation, dark streaks running down them like veins. Symbols carved into the stone pulsed faintly, their light growing stronger when Ellison shone the beam on them.
"This wasn't on the floor plan," he muttered, attempting humor to steady his nerves.
The silence pressed against him, but it wasn't empty. The shadows felt alive, creeping at the edges of his vision. Every few steps, he thought he saw movement—a flicker, like someone darting out of sight.
He spun around once, his flashlight cutting through the dark. Nothing.
"Okay, Ellison, pull it together," he whispered, forcing his breathing to slow.
The tunnel twisted and turned like a labyrinth, narrowing in places where he had to squeeze through. His backpack scraped against the walls, and cold water dripped onto his neck. Each step forward seemed to deepen the unnatural chill seeping into his bones.
Then, a sound.
It was faint at first—a low, rhythmic tapping, like nails drumming on stone. Ellison froze, every hair on his body standing on end.
The tapping grew louder, echoing through the tunnel. It wasn't just one source. It sounded like dozens, coming from all directions.
"Nope," Ellison whispered, his voice trembling. He turned to retreat, but the tunnel behind him was gone. A solid stone wall now stood where he'd just come from.
"Are you kidding me?!" he hissed, panic rising.
The tapping stopped. The sudden silence was worse.
The orb in his pocket began to pulse, its warmth drawing his attention. He pulled it out, and the light it emitted flared, illuminating the tunnel ahead. The symbols on the walls glowed brighter in response, their patterns shifting like they were alive.
"This has to mean something," Ellison muttered, studying the symbols. One in particular—a spiral with jagged lines cutting through it—seemed to draw his gaze. It was repeated over and over along the walls, growing larger as he moved forward.
The tunnel opened into a wide chamber, and Ellison stopped in his tracks.
The room was vast, the ceiling lost in shadow. A circular platform stood in the center, surrounded by a shallow trench filled with black water. Suspended above the platform was a massive, rusted cage, swaying gently even though there was no breeze.
Ellison's flashlight flickered. He slapped it, but the beam refused to stabilize. The orb in his hand dimmed as well, as if whatever power it held was being drained by the room itself.
"Great. This is fine. Totally fine," he said, trying to mask his fear with sarcasm.
He stepped closer to the platform, noticing strange markings etched into its surface. They looked like instructions—or a sequence. A nearby pedestal held a brass lever, and next to it was a plaque with engraved text.
Ellison knelt, brushing dirt off the plaque to read it. The letters were worn, but he could just make out the words:
"To unlock the heart, one must offer light and shadow in balance."
"Light and shadow," Ellison repeated, frowning. He looked at the lever, then at the orb in his hand. The meaning wasn't clear, but the markings on the platform suggested this was some sort of puzzle.
The tapping returned. Louder. Closer.
Ellison's hands trembled as he placed the orb on the platform. It rolled slightly, settling into a shallow groove. The markings began to glow, their light casting strange, dancing shadows on the walls.
He glanced over his shoulder, certain he saw movement again—this time closer. Shadows shifted unnaturally, pooling together like liquid before dispersing.
"Come on, think," Ellison muttered, staring at the lever. He grabbed it and pulled, but it didn't budge. The tapping grew frantic, echoing like a drumbeat in his chest.
The orb's light flickered wildly, and the markings on the platform pulsed. Then, the cage above creaked, swinging violently as if something inside was trying to break free.
"Whatever I'm doing, I need to do it faster," Ellison said, his voice strained.
He adjusted the orb's position, aligning it with one of the glowing symbols. As soon as it clicked into place, the trench of black water began to ripple. The shadows on the walls coalesced, forming the jagged spiral symbol he'd seen earlier.
A guttural growl erupted from the cage, and Ellison stumbled back. A pair of glowing eyes stared at him through the rusted bars, unblinking.
"Not good. Not good at all," Ellison whispered, his heart pounding.
The markings on the platform shifted again, revealing another groove. Without thinking, Ellison removed the flashlight's bulb and placed it into the new groove. The shadows on the walls hissed, recoiling, as the spiral symbol fractured into pieces.
The growling stopped.
The cage stilled, its occupant disappearing into the darkness. The platform's glow faded, replaced by a faint hum that vibrated through the floor.
Ellison stepped back, his breathing ragged. The pedestal now held a key—ornate and gleaming, as if untouched by time.
He grabbed it quickly, clutching it tightly. The tapping had stopped, but the oppressive silence was back.
"I don't know what this key opens, but it better be worth it," he muttered, his voice shaking.
The shadows in the chamber shifted one last time, forming the faint outline of a figure. For a split second, it looked like Kaylee, her hand reaching out toward him before she vanished.
"Kaylee?" Ellison whispered, his voice echoing into the emptiness.
The silence answered him.