CHAPTER 1
The world came into focus slowly, as if emerging from a dense fog. Blurred shadows danced on the walls of an unfamiliar room, illuminated by the faint glow of a single candle flickering on the bedside table. The air smelled of wax and damp wood, and the faint hum of silence pressed heavily against their ears.
Where am I? The thought surfaced like a bubble breaking the surface of water. Panic set in moments later as they realized a far more pressing question: Who am I?
The figure sat up, their movements sluggish and disjointed. Every muscle ached as though they had been asleep for years. A quick glance around the room revealed very little—bare walls, a single wooden chair, and a door partially ajar, revealing a sliver of darkness beyond. On the table beside the candle, a folded piece of paper lay ominously, its edges scorched as if touched by fire.
They reached for it with trembling hands, unfolding it carefully. The message scrawled across the page in hurried, uneven handwriting sent a chill down their spine:
"To find yourself, you must first lose yourself."
The words made no sense, yet they felt deeply personal, as though written for them alone. Their hands instinctively moved to their chest, searching for something—an anchor, a clue—but found only the coarse fabric of a plain gray shirt. No jewelry, no watch, nothing that might offer a hint of identity.
They stumbled to their feet, nearly tripping over a small leather suitcase tucked beneath the bed. Gripping the handle, they dragged it out, their heart racing as they clicked it open. Inside, they found three items: a pocket watch, a weathered photograph of a smiling couple, and a key. The photograph was blurred, the faces indistinct, yet it stirred something deep within—a flicker of recognition that vanished as quickly as it came.
The key was small, iron, and rusted at the edges. Turning it over in their palm, they noticed a single word etched into the metal: Eldridge. Was it a name? A place? Their name?
The sound of footsteps beyond the door startled them. The candle flickered violently, casting wild shadows across the room. They froze, clutching the key tightly as the footsteps grew louder, then stopped just outside the door. A moment later, a soft knock echoed through the silence.
"Hello?" they called, their voice hoarse and unfamiliar.
No answer. Only silence.
The silence outside the door pressed heavily, making the figure's chest tighten. They glanced at the small suitcase, the photograph, and the key, then back to the door. Whatever lay beyond it could hold answers—or more questions.
"Is someone there?" they asked again, louder this time.
The candle sputtered, threatening to go out, and the faint knock repeated, softer than before but insistent. Summoning courage, they crossed the room and placed their hand on the cold metal doorknob.
As the door creaked open, it revealed a long, narrow hallway stretching into darkness. The walls were lined with faded wallpaper, curling at the edges. A faint draft carried the scent of something earthy and damp, like soil after rain. The knock, they realized, hadn't come from a person—it echoed as if carried from somewhere deeper within.
They took a hesitant step into the hallway, the key gripped tightly in one hand. Behind them, the candle extinguished with a soft hiss, plunging the room into darkness. The suitcase was left forgotten.
The floorboards groaned beneath their weight as they moved forward. The hallway seemed endless, yet something compelled them to keep going. The faint hum that had filled the air earlier grew louder, transforming into a low, rhythmic pulse that resonated in their chest.
As they walked, their mind raced. The note, the suitcase, the key—none of it made sense. Their memories were a void, a black hole that refused to give up its secrets. Flashes of light and shadow teased at the edges of their consciousness, but every time they tried to grab hold of an image, it slipped away.
At last, the hallway opened into a larger space—a circular room with walls of stone and a vaulted ceiling. The air here was colder, heavy with an unexplainable energy. In the center of the room stood a pedestal, and on it lay an open book, its pages glowing faintly.
They hesitated, unsure whether to approach. The pulsing sound grew louder, aligning with the rhythm of their heartbeat.
"Is this a dream?" they whispered, their voice swallowed by the vastness of the room.
The book seemed to beckon. Step by step, they crossed the room until they stood before it. The pages were blank except for a single sentence written in the center:
"Eldridge is the beginning. Follow the key."
The words shimmered as though alive, fading into the paper as they read them. Before they could make sense of the message, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, extinguishing the faint glow and plunging everything into darkness once again.
They stumbled backward, clutching the key as a new sound emerged from the void—a deep, guttural growl that seemed to echo from every direction.
"Who's there?" they cried, their voice trembling.
A figure emerged from the shadows, its shape indistinct but undeniably human. It didn't move, didn't speak, but its presence was overwhelming.
"What do you want from me?" they asked, their voice cracking.
The figure raised a hand and pointed to the key. Then, without a word, it dissolved into a swirling mist that spiraled around them before vanishing into the darkness.
Left alone once more, they clutched the key tightly. The word Eldridge echoed in their mind, carrying a weight they couldn't yet understand. Whatever it meant, it was the only clue they had.
Turning back toward the hallway, they resolved to find answers—starting with the door that key would unlock.