Ethan stood frozen, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.
The walls around him were a sickly, pale yellow, stretching endlessly in every direction.
The floor beneath his feet was damp, not soaked, but just wet enough that he could feel the cold seeping into his shoes. Every step he took, there was a faint, unpleasant squelch beneath him.
The silence was suffocating.
So silent that the only thing he could hear was the faint, persistent buzzing of the overhead lights, their dull yellow glow flickering inconsistently. And worse… He could hear his own heartbeat.
A slow, rhythmic thump-thump-thump ringing in his ears, mixing with the unsteady sound of his own breathing picking up pace. His body trembled slightly, and it wasn't from the cold.
He forced himself to take a slow, deep breath, but it didn't help. His fingers twitched, his legs felt weak, his entire body screaming at him that something was wrong. His mind raced.
"Where am I? How did I get here? Did those people do something to me?"
His thoughts spiraled, searching for an answer, but nothing made sense.
His hands curled into fists, trying to stop the tremors running through his body. He needed to move. Staying still felt dangerous.
Slowly, hesitantly, he took a step forward.
His knees felt weak, his legs barely holding him up. It wasn't exhaustion—it was pure, raw nervousness.
Every instinct in his body told him something was deeply wrong.
And yet… he had no choice but to keep walking.
Ethan's voice came out as a shaky whisper, barely above a breath.
Ethan (muttering): "Are Karlos, Alice, and the others in the same place? Could it be that this was what the old man and Azerath were plotting all along?"
A cold sweat formed on his forehead as the reality of his situation sank deeper into his mind. His pulse quickened.
His eyes darted around the endless yellow walls, searching for something anything that could lead him to an exit.
Nothing.
No signs. No markings. No doors.
Just the same repeating, lifeless scenery.
He moved forward, his footsteps uneven, his body tense. Every direction looked the same.
He could have walked in circles five times over and wouldn't even know it. A creeping sensation crawled over his skin.
"I have to get out of here."
The more he searched, the more suffocating the space felt. He picked up his pace, his breathing growing shallow. The flickering lights above him buzzed louder in his ears, as if the sound was closing in on him. And then… he felt it.
That distinct, gut-wrenching feeling.
Trapped.
A place where you can't find the exit. Where everything looks the same, and no matter
where you go, the surroundings just seem to repeat endlessly. Have you ever been lost before?
That moment where you don't recognize where you are, but you convince yourself
"It's fine. I just have to keep going. I'll find something familiar soon." You walk faster.
Not because you're in a hurry… but because fear begins to creep in.
Because you don't know where you are right now… but maybe if you keep moving, you'll know what's coming next.
Ethan was experiencing that exact feeling.
He was rushing through the endless space, hoping that at any moment—the memory would click.
The exit would reveal itself. But deep down, a more terrifying thought gnawed at him.
"What if there is no exit?"
A dryness crept into Ethan's throat, making it hard to swallow. His lips felt chapped, his breathing uneven. His body was tense, his mind spinning in every direction, but no matter what he thought—nothing made sense. A nervous chill ran down his spine as he slowly opened his mouth to speak.
Ethan: "Is anyone there?!"
His voice came out shaky, but loud enough to cut through the suffocating silence.
It echoed.
Once.
Twice.
Then—nothing.
Just the same oppressive silence.
Ethan's jaw clenched. The lack of response felt more terrifying than any reply could have been. It was like the place itself was swallowing his voice. His heartbeat spiked, his fingers twitching involuntarily.
Ethan: "Someone?! Is anyone there? This isn't funny!"
Again, his own voice bounced off the endless walls, repeating itself twice before fading into the void of nothingness. The silence pressed against him, crawling under his skin.
That's when it hit him.
He was in trouble.
His body moved before his brain could process it—he ran.
His feet pounded against the damp floor, his legs burning as he sprinted through the endless expanse of yellow walls.
He didn't think.
He just ran.
Faster.
Faster, until his lungs burned, until sweat dripped down his forehead, until his hands shook
violently from exhaustion.
His breath came in ragged gasps, but he kept running—as if moving faster would somehow fix this. But eventually…
He had to stop.
His chest heaved, his entire body drenched in sweat, his throat feeling like sandpaper.
His voice was gone. Hoarse. Weak.
One last desperate scream.
Ethan: "SOMEONE HELP!!!"
His own plea echoed back to him, repeating his words mockingly—
"Someone help."
"Someone help."
Silence.
Again.
No reply.
His head spun, his vision slightly blurring from the fatigue. He forced himself to think, to calm down, and made a decision.
"I'll just go back to where I started. The bed. I need to retrace my steps."
But then…
He froze.
His stomach sank.
The realization hit him like a sledgehammer.
He was lost.
He had been running aimlessly.
He didn't keep track of where he was going.
He had gone too far.
And now—he couldn't go back.
His chest tightened, his hands trembling as the full weight of his mistake settled in.
He was lost.
He was stuck.
There was no going back.
And that thought alone… made him realize that he had just made a huge mistake.
Ethan: "Shit... I am so stupid..."
His voice was barely above a whisper, but the words cut deep.
His own frustration weighed on him, pressing against his chest like a heavy stone.
Slowly, he began to walk—but to where? He had no idea.
There was no landmark, no point of reference.
Every wall, every flickering light above him, looked the same. As he walked, his thoughts spiraled into self-loathing.
"What if someone came to my starting point, and I just had to wait there... but I ran off like an idiot?"
"What if all I had to do was stay put, and someone would have guided me?"
"What if I just had to sleep and wait?"
His breathing became uneven.
His fists clenched.
"I am so dumb. So stupid. Why do I always make such reckless decisions?"
The more he thought about it, the more he felt himself breaking.
He had no way out.
He had no direction.
And now—he had no hope.
His footsteps slowed. His body slumped.
A dull emptiness swallowed him whole.
There was no point.
There was nothing left to do. And for the first time since waking up in this place… Ethan stopped walking.
Stopped thinking.
And let the hopelessness sink in.
Ethan stood there, completely motionless.
His arms hung lifelessly by his sides, his posture slouched, his eyes dull and unfocused.
It was too much.
Ever since he received that letter, his life had been spiraling deeper into something worse than a nightmare. His voice, empty and hollow, barely left his lips.
Ethan: "I am cursed."
His mind drifted.
His thoughts turned bitter.
"All I do is bring wrath and evil into the lives of others. That is all there is."
His breathing slowed.
SCRAAAAATCH.
The sound ripped through the silence, sharp and violent.
Like fingernails clawing into the walls, dragging hard, as if something was desperately trying to tear through. It was loud. Aggressive.
Enough to send a violent shiver crawling down Ethan's spine.
His heart stopped for a second. His body tensed instantly.
For the first time since arriving in this place, pure fear gripped him.
His breath caught in his throat, his muscles locked.
And slowly, with sheer dread creeping up his back—
Ethan turned his head toward the sound.
The scratching was relentless.
It didn't stop.
It only got louder.
Ethan's body shook violently, his legs stumbling backward instinctively.
His mind screamed at him to run, but his feet refused to move. He stood frozen, his breath hitched in his throat. For a moment, complete silence.
Then, his voice burst out of him, raw and desperate.
"WHO IS THERE?!"
The second those words left his mouth— The scratching turned into scraping.
Louder.
Faster.
It was moving.
Closing in on him.
Ethan's chest tightened, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his fingers twitching. His body felt cold, but sweat dripped down his forehead. And then— The sound stopped.
And something stepped into view.