Cold. That was the first thing I felt. Not the kind of cold that makes you shiver—this was deeper, like it had seeped straight into my bones.
I opened my eyes to a blinding white void. No ceiling. No floor. Just… light. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
"Lena?" My voice echoed in a way that didn't make sense—soft, like it was swallowed before it could travel.
Silence answered.
I took a step, and the light rippled beneath my boot like water. The surface was solid, but it moved.
My pulse was already pounding when I spotted it—half-buried in the rippling white, a strip of black cloth. I knelt, pulling it free. Lena's scarf.
She'd been here.
Which meant she'd either gone ahead… or something had taken her.
A faint click echoed somewhere behind me.
I spun around. Nothing but white.
Then the sound came again—closer. Like claws tapping glass.
"Who's there?" My voice sounded too small.
The tapping became a scrape, and in the distance, the white light began to darken, as though shadows were bleeding into it. Shapes flickered in the corner of my vision—tall, thin, moving in sharp, insect-like bursts.
Instinct screamed at me to back away. I listened.
The shadows grew faster, moving from one side to the other, always just out of clear view. Every time I turned, they vanished.
I gripped the knife at my belt and forced my breathing steady.
Another sound—a wet, dragging hiss—echoed right behind me.
I spun, slashing the air. My blade cut through nothing… but the light itself shivered.
The ground under my feet shifted violently, rippling outward like a stone dropped in water. The white around me began to fracture, jagged black lines splitting the surface.
Through the cracks, I caught glimpses of something else—rusted metal walls, dripping pipes, and a dark corridor that didn't belong here.
The tapping stopped.
Then a voice—soft, impossibly close—whispered: "Adam…"
I froze.
It was Lena's voice.
"Lena?" I called.
"Run."
The surface shattered.
I plunged through the light into cold darkness, landing hard on metal grating. The air here was damp, thick with the smell of rust and oil.
Something heavy landed behind me with a metallic thud.
I turned just in time to see a shape unfold itself from the shadows—its limbs too long, its head tilting in short, jerky movements. It stepped forward, talons scraping the grating, its mouth—or what passed for one—opening in a slow, deliberate hiss.
I didn't wait.
I bolted down the narrow corridor, the clang of my boots echoing alongside the inhuman clatter of its pursuit.
Ahead, faint light filtered through a doorway. I didn't care where it led—I sprinted for it.
The creature's hiss turned into a high-pitched screech, and metal tore somewhere behind me.
I dove through the doorway, slamming my shoulder against the wall.
The room beyond was pitch black, except for a single faint glow ahead…
On the floor, glowing faintly in the dark, was another scarf.
And it was still warm.