Chapter 06: Fractured Realities
Evelyn awoke with a sharp breath, her body jerking upright as if wrenched from the depths of some suffocating abyss. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, knuckles white, heart thundering in her chest. For a long moment, she simply stared into the dimly lit room, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to her like a second skin.
But the room wasn’t her bedroom. It wasn’t the house she had come to know so well, the one that had slowly twisted itself into something unrecognizable. No, this place—this was somewhere new. The walls, though still old and decaying, were lined with unfamiliar patterns, strange symbols etched into the wallpaper, as if they had been placed there intentionally to disturb her. The air was thick with the scent of rot, but it wasn’t the typical dampness of the manor’s walls. This was something different—something wrong.
She ran her fingers over her face, feeling the sweat that had already soaked through her hair. Her reflection in the mirror across the room startled her; her eyes were wide, rimmed with dark circles, her skin pale as if she had been awake for days. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was the hollow emptiness behind her eyes, like she had lost something that she could never retrieve.
And then the door creaked.
It wasn’t the soft groan of old wood. No, this was louder, more deliberate, as though someone—something—was standing on the other side, testing the lock, waiting for her to make the first move. The sound of it filled the room, echoing like a heartbeat in her ears.
Evelyn froze.
Her heart rate spiked again, and her breath hitched. She should run, escape, do something, but all she could do was sit there, watching as the handle slowly began to turn, inch by inch, until it stopped.
A long, bone-chilling silence followed. And then—slowly, as though toying with her—there came a soft knock. It wasn’t like any knock a human could make, no, this was different. It reverberated in her chest, in her bones, as though the very walls of the room were sending a message, a warning.
Her instincts screamed at her to flee, but her body betrayed her, remaining rooted in place as the door groaned open.
Through the gap, a single figure stood motionless.
The silhouette was barely discernible in the shadows, its outline blurred, like a stain against the dim light. But its eyes—their glowing intensity—pierced the darkness like twin stars.
Evelyn’s blood ran cold.
This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t something she could wake up from.
The figure didn’t speak, didn’t move. It simply stood there, observing her, its presence suffocating, weighing down the very air in the room. And in its gaze, Evelyn saw something she hadn’t seen before: something far worse than the creeping shadows and whispered words that had haunted her dreams. It was hunger.
A hunger that wasn’t just for flesh. It was deeper, primal, the kind that consumed more than the body—it devoured the soul.
Her breath quickened, panic swelling in her chest as she stumbled backward, her hand scrabbling for purchase on the cold, damp walls. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, unable to tear her eyes away from the figure in the doorway. She wanted to scream, to run, but her throat closed up, constricting with fear.
The figure stepped into the room, its movements slow and deliberate. The door creaked shut behind it, the sound like the finality of a tomb closing. The air grew impossibly colder, and Evelyn felt the temperature drop to a near-frozen chill.
A soft voice, low and guttural, broke the silence.
“You should never have entered.”
It was her voice. It came from her lips, but it wasn’t her speaking. The words felt alien, like they were slipping from the darkness that surrounded her, not from her own mouth.
She looked up, her vision swimming as the figure moved closer, its form becoming clearer, though still distorted by shadows. She could make out the shape of its face—pale, with hollow eyes that seemed too large for its skull. Its features were warped, its skin thin and stretched tight across its bones, like a mask barely holding itself together.
Her heart raced as the figure extended one long, spindly hand toward her. Her chest tightened, and a cold sweat broke out over her skin.
“You belong here,” the creature whispered, its voice dripping with malice.
Evelyn gasped, forcing herself to scramble backward across the floor, but the creature was faster. It was upon her in an instant, a dark, suffocating presence that pressed down on her chest as she lay frozen in place. Its hand hovered above her, its fingers impossibly long, reaching for her throat.
“You brought us here,” it hissed, the words sharp and venomous.
Evelyn’s pulse thundered in her ears, and her mind screamed for escape, for something—anything—that would save her from this nightmare. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the sight of the creature looming above her, but the shadows seemed to close in tighter, suffocating her with their presence.
A sudden surge of pain shot through her head, like an electric current coursing through her veins. She gasped, her body writhing against the unseen force.
And then, with a sudden snap, everything stopped.
The creature was gone.
The shadows receded.
The room, though still dim, was no longer suffocating. Evelyn lay on the cold floor, her breath ragged, her heart pounding in her chest as she slowly opened her eyes.
She was alone. The figure had vanished. But the sensation—the haunting feeling that it was still there, lurking just beyond her sight—remained.
And then she heard it.
A whisper, faint but unmistakable, echoing in her mind.
You are one of us now.
Evelyn’s body went stiff with terror. She pushed herself up, gasping for breath, and looked around the room, but it was empty. The door was closed. The shadows had returned to their quiet, watchful corners.
But the words, those words, clung to her like a curse.
She wasn’t alone.
