Chapter 3:
Later that evening, after a long, solitary day spent lost in video games, Alex found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the small brown paper bag that had contained the necklace. The bag sat innocently on his nightstand, wedged between a bottle of prescription meds and a stack of overdue bills as if it were a mundane item in his cluttered life. The faint, flickering light from the streetlamp outside his window cast long, distorted shadows across the room, making the walls appear to stretch and contract.
Even though hours had passed since he'd left the market, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that he had to look at it again. Maybe it was just the silence of the apartment. The absence of sound that had draped over him all day. The endless, looping thoughts of his failures, his lost job, and the dead-end existence he'd been trudging through. Maybe it was the low hum of uncertainty that buzzed beneath his thoughts, a hum that seemed to intensify the longer he stared at the paper bag. Whatever it was, it was pulling him—compelling him—toward it.
Alex picked up the bag and was going to open it when he realized how silly he was being. He tossed the bag back onto the nightstand. He continued looking at the bag he just tossed, now fighting within himself at what was sillier, avoiding the pendent or just putting it on and pretending this never bothered him. It was almost as if the pendant was slowly changing his mind for him.
His fingers twitched, betraying him before he even consciously made the decision. Slowly, with a strange reluctance, he reached for the bag, the edges crinkling beneath his touch. He opened it, hesitating just a moment before his fingers curled around the small necklace inside.
The skull felt alive —like it was pulsing with some unknown energy. His breath quickened, and as he pulled the string open, a chill ran down his spine. Inside was the skull pendant, polished to a smooth, unnatural sheen. The tiny top hat perched at an angle, almost cocky in its tilt. As his fingers closed around it, Alex couldn't help but notice how real it felt—more than just a trinket. The eye sockets of the skull were dark, and deep, like endless pits that seemed to watch him. There was something wrong about it, something that set his nerves alight. But he couldn't quite place what it was.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw the skull move. The faintest shift of the eyes, a flicker of life—but he blinked, and it was gone, just like before.
He held the pendant a little longer, the cool surface sending a shiver through him. His thumb traced over the smooth metal, and that's when the first sensation hit him—a cold rush that seemed to freeze his blood, like a gust of wind that never arrived, yet settled inside him. It was as if the air around him had changed, become denser, thicker.
His grip tightened on the pendant, unwilling to let go.
Then—whispers.
Soft, unintelligible whispers, just beyond the reach of his hearing. He froze, looking around the room, but everything was still. The room was quiet, too quiet. His pulse quickened. He thought he was imagining it, that the isolation was starting to mess with his head.
"Don't be ridiculous" he muttered under his breath.
But even as he said the words, the whispers grew louder, rising like a tide, murmuring his name, calling him. His hand trembled slightly, but he didn't want to acknowledge the creeping dread crawling up his spine.
The moment passed. He closed his hand around the pendant, half-expecting it to vanish, or for the weight to change. But it was still there, solid in his grasp. It felt... warm now as if it had absorbed some of his heat, almost like it was alive.
A shiver passed through him again.
With an uneasy breath, Alex moved to set it back on his nightstand. He needed to get it out of his hands, to stop thinking about it. But as his fingers left the pendant, he felt a sharp, sudden pinch—as if the skull had bitten him.
Alex yelped, opening his hand and shaking it wildly as pain shot through his middle finger. The sensation was odd, sharp, and localized, like a small, but vicious bite. His heart pounded in his chest, blood rushing to his ears as he tried to fling the necklace away.
But there it was, at the end of his finger: the skull—clamped down, its teeth sharp and insistent, as if trying to draw blood.
His pulse spiked. His mind raced. This isn't happening. This isn't real. But as much as he shook his hand, the pendant clung, biting harder with each motion.
He finally forced it free, the pendant spinning off to the floor, landing a few feet away. Alex staggered back, staring at the little skull on the floor, his finger still throbbing with an aching. Looking down he could see he was bleeding. His head swam with confusion and a thick sense of dread as if something terrible was about to unfold.
His heart raced as he stood frozen. The pendant—now lying there innocently—was no longer just an object. His mind refused to believe what had just happened, but his instincts were telling him something else. He felt a pull toward it, an invisible thread tugging at his chest. The whispers hadn't stopped; they were still there, just under the surface of his thoughts, insistent, growing stronger.
He could leave. He could walk away. Walk out the door. Maybe even call someone. His mind raced with the possibility, the desire to run. But as his gaze lingered on the pendant, a strange feeling of inevitability settled over him, as though leaving wasn't an option. The pull was real. He couldn't ignore it.
His feet shuffled forward, almost of their own volition, bringing him closer to the pendant. The moment his fingers brushed against the cool metal, the whispering stopped. The room fell unnervingly silent. But then—something else—a hiss, sharp and snake-like, filled his ears, a sound so jarring it made his stomach lurch.
Alex recoiled, nearly tripping over his own feet, but as he did, the pendant... moved.
It didn't fall, it rolled—not like a normal object would. It moved with purpose, spinning slowly, almost deliberately, until it stopped right at his feet, staring up at him with those deep, black eye sockets, like a predator waiting for its next move.
It was alive, he thought. His mind could no longer deny it. There was no rational explanation. He felt it now—like an invisible weight pressing on his chest, suffocating him.
Then, a sudden thump echoed from the direction of his apartment door, as though something heavy had landed on the other side. A cold gust of wind swept through the room, despite the windows being closed. Alex's skin prickled, and the hairs on his neck stood at attention. The air felt different now—charged, thick with something ancient, something unknowable. The shadows in the corners of the room twisted and shifted unnaturally.
The whispers turned into something clearer. The voice was low, commanding, deep—like thunder rumbling in the distance, yet it vibrated through his very bones.
"Pick it up, child. You know why."
Alex's breath hitched in his throat. His pulse raced. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. The voice wasn't his own. It wasn't human. It was something much, much older, filled with a weight and power that pressed on him from all sides.
The words lingered in his ears, demanding, insistent.
"You cannot run from fate."
His mind screamed no—everything inside him begged him to step back, to reject this madness. But despite every instinct telling him to flee, his hand reached out.
An invisible thread, taut and unyielding, pulled him toward it.
His fingers closed around the pendant.
The moment his skin made contact with the smooth, cool metal, the room seemed to shift. The walls rippled. The floor trembled beneath his feet. The shadows in the corners of the room swayed, as though the darkness itself had come alive. The light from the window seemed to dim, swallowed by an unseen force.
And then, a voice—louder than before—echoed in his chest, so deep, it vibrated through him like thunder cracking open the sky.
"Welcome, Alex. You are mine now."
The skull in his hand began to pulse with unnatural life. Its eyes gleamed—alive—and the tiny top hat tipped forward as if bowing.
Before Alex could react, the ground beneath him trembled violently. The walls closed in, narrowing the room to a suffocating, impossible space. The air thickened. The pressure building, suffocating him.
The room vanished. The world around him seemed to collapse. His vision blurred. The ground beneath his feet disappeared.
And then, nothing but darkness.