Her pulse hammered in her ears. The whisper returned, louder now, no longer patient, but coaxing, insistent, prying: You brought us with you. You belong to us now. You are ours. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor. She let out a raw scream, her voice cracking as sobs racked her chest, her lungs burning and crying out for air. The corridor—or whatever it was now—seemed to tilt, to lurch, as though the world had shifted. She dug her nails into her legs, bit her tongue, banged her head against the stone– desperate for the bite of pain, for proof of something solid and existent. Instead, all she felt was the cold brush of shadow curling around her wrists. “No.” The word tore out of her, chafed and ragged. She yanked her arms back, thrashing, and the dark recoiled momentarily, as though stung. For the first time, it wavered, its grip loosening. Her heart pounded, wild and desperate, and she forced herself to her feet, to run. The ground swayed beneath her like a ship wrestling water, but she spread her stance wide, trembling and unsteady, and shouted into the void.
“You don’t own me!” The shadows convulsed at her words, their shapes flickering, thinning at the edges. The whispers rose in a spine-tingling chorus—stay, stay, STAY—until it rattled in her skull like breaking glass. She clutched her head, fighting the storm of voices, but she did not collapse again. Step by staggering step, she moved forward, shoving as the weight of unseen hands pressed down on her shoulders. The darkness bucked and surged around her, trying to close in, but she pushed harder, screams pushing against her lungs and up her vocal chords until her throat was raw from yelling. And with each cry, the shadows shrank back, slashed to shreds by her unexpected defiance. Still, a truth gnawed at her, unshakable even in this slight victory: the shadows were not destroyed. They were retreating. Watching. Waiting for her strength to falter. The lanterns were long gone. The fire, the smoke, even the walls had dissolved into a vast, unbroken dark. Her throat strained from shouting, she staggered forward, desperate for some end to the corridor, for a door, a window, something, anything. But each step landed heavy, as though she were sinking deep into the floor, not moving across it. Only her own ragged breathing told her she still had a body at all. Her pulse quickened as a shadow slithered around her. “You’re not real,” she croaked, the words shaking in the silence. “You’re not—” The shadows answered with a sound like laughter. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t mocking—just the soft, scraping sound of something vast and impatient, like harsh waves lapping against a stony shore. It filled her ears, her chest, her skull. Her knees buckled again. This time, when she tried to rise, the ground shifted beneath her, slick and icy, like walking on the surface of a frozen pond. Her fingers clawed through nothing, grasping for a stone wall that no longer existed. Everything in every direction looked the same. Every breath carried the same whisper, a thought pressed into her head, heavy and final: There is no escape. There never was. Elixir curled in on herself, clutching her arms, her body trembling as the terrible laughter swelled around her. The shadows didn’t advance. They didn’t need to. This nightmare was complete—it wasn’t a place she could flee from, but a prison she carried with her. Forever. Her breath echoed loud in her ears, yet even that sound began to falter, thinning into the steady rhythm of those damn whispers. They threaded themselves through her every thought, weaving into her pulse, her breath, the very shape of her fear. Her body no longer obeyed her. She clawed at the wood floor, but her hands passed through it as if it were nothing but water. She looked down at her arms, but her own skin was blurred, her edges dissolving. She tried to scream, to shout for help, but her throat refused. Everything started to blur. Her hands shivered in and out, her whole body flickering in existence. The maddening laughter hushed, replaced by silence. A silence as deep as death, wide as eternity. And in that silence, a single thought bloomed, cold and hard, not her own but planted in her like a seed: You were never meant to leave. Elixir started out of bed. Her breath cut in and out, in and out, in and out…. She clutched her head, tears spilling out of her eyes and down her face. “It was just a dream… just a dream…” A small mess of blonde hair peeked into the room, the open door spilling light into Elixir’s dark study. “Eli? Are you okay?” A squeaky voice pierced the silence, and Elixir looked straight into the blue eyes of the young girl who had entered her room. “Hey, Ash… yeah, I’m okay.” Elixir glanced around the room, her gaze lingering a few seconds longer on the corner that had, only a few minutes ago, been coveted by shadows and flames. “I’m okay,” she murmured again, mostly to herself. But the echo of that voice still loitered, emblazoned inside her head…. Stay… stay… STAY…
