Elias's breath came in shallow gasps as he stared at the door. The voice on the other side was unmistakable—his own. It wasn't just similar; it was identical, as if someone had recorded his voice and played it back with eerie precision.
His hands trembled. Every fiber of his being screamed at him not to open it. But something about the way his name was spoken, slow and deliberate, filled him with an unbearable curiosity. He took a hesitant step forward.
"Elias," the voice called again, softer this time, almost pleading. "You need to see."
See what? His throat felt dry as he reached out, fingers barely grazing the handle. A sudden chill seeped through the metal, sending a shiver up his spine. The very air around him grew dense, thick with a silent pressure that made his ears ring.
He yanked his hand back.
The light in the apartment dimmed. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls, moving against the logic of physics. The sterile stillness he had noticed earlier became suffocating, as though the very air was thickening around him, pressing in from all sides, threatening to consume him.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Then—
The door unlocked itself.
The latch clicked with a sound far too loud, reverberating through the room. Elias took a step back, his body rigid, his heartbeat drumming wildly against his ribs. The door creaked open, inch by inch, revealing a sliver of darkness beyond. It wasn't just darkness—it was an absence, a void that swallowed all light, an abyss that held no promise of safety.
Something stepped through.
It was him.
Or at least, it looked like him. The figure in the doorway bore his face, his build, even his hesitant posture. But its eyes—
Its eyes were empty voids, black holes sucking in the light around them. The thing smiled, slow and unsettling, lips curling at the edges like a marionette held by invisible strings. Its expression held no warmth, only the semblance of something that had studied human emotion but had never felt it.
"You shouldn't be here," it whispered, tilting its head as if examining him.
Elias's legs locked in place, every instinct screaming at him to run. But he couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. His entire existence felt as if it was unraveling, his mind caught between terror and disbelief.
The figure took another step forward, the shadows coiling around its feet like living tendrils. They moved unnaturally, writhing and stretching, reaching toward him with silent hunger.
Elias tried to speak, to demand an explanation, to scream—but his voice was gone, stolen by the oppressive stillness that smothered the room.
The thing that wore his face smiled wider, revealing teeth that were just a little too sharp, a little too perfect, as if reality itself was fraying at the edges. Its hand lifted, fingers outstretched, reaching—
And then it lunged.