The Fractured Memories: A Horror Thriller

Joss Butler lay sprawled across his snug double bed, the comforter pulled haphazardly to one side as if it too were reluctantly surrendering to the depths of a winter’s night. Outside his window, swirling gusts of wind threatened to rattle the precise assembly of his London flat, but he was content—delighted even—surrounded by the hum of his favorite music. A layer of snow blanketed the city, transforming the bustling streets into a hushed realm where only the sound of frost crunching beneath boots punctuated the stillness.

Through his wire headphones, a soothing melody floated like a wisp of smoke, curling through his thoughts, coaxing away the residue of another exhausting week in the cutthroat world of finance. He sold beverage distribution deals to retailers, his sharp mind navigating the labyrinth of figures while his heart remained aloof, untroubled. Not lonely, really—he had friends, his best friend, Katrina, in particular, whom he could lean on when the weight of existence felt particularly dense. He couldn’t help but imagine how beautiful she’d look tonight, glowing with laughter as they shared a snickering bottle of wine. But that was for another time; tonight, he indulged in the soothing symphony enveloping him.

In his small, tightly curated living room, the glow of his mobile phone was a lighthouse in a phosphorescent sea of dim light, illuminating the walls covered in muted charcoal paint. Like the rest of his life, everything was meticulously organized—books stacked in an almost neurotic order, photos of family and friends framed in black, recordings of the past peering back with silent judgments.

A sudden frigid breeze infiltrated the air, provoking a shiver that curled around Joss's spine. He reassured himself that it was merely the draft from the window, not an omen of something more sinister lurking in the shadows. Curling back into the cocoon of his blankets, he allowed the sweet escape of melody to tease at his subconscious—a melancholic lull that, like all good things, soon faded. 

And then it happened. A sudden jarring silence enveloped him, piercingly unnatural, as if someone had yanked the sound from his very essence. Confused, he tugged the wire of his headphones, testing for kinks, for interference. Everything clipped snugly against his ears, yet still, nothing came. He lifted his mobile, wondering if he had inadvertently pressed pause but found the screen ablaze, ignoring his commands. 

Panic flickered like a dying flame—hard to justify, hard to believe. He cast a hasty glance at the corner of his desk, where his Bluetooth headphones huddled like a guilty secret. They shouldn’t be activated; they were in their charger, their blue light winking innocently at him as if mocking his confusion. His heart thrummed slowly, giving way to dread.

Had someone connected without him realizing it? With a tremor in his hand, he turned off Bluetooth, the little blue button soft under his fingertips. The sudden cessation of noise made the apartment feel alarmingly hollow as if the very walls held their breath alongside him. He sat in that oppressive stillness, attempting to banish the fears that thrummed incessantly beneath his skin.

But barely a minute passed before the dreaded soft blue glow rekindled on his Bluetooth headphones, blinking in persistent defiance. Joss felt a visceral chill stab through him. Desperation and anger mingled, the echoes of rational thought dimming into the background with every superficial flicker of that maddening light. 

“What the hell?” he muttered, incredulous, half the syllables lost in the heavy air of the room. 

With feet heavy against the chill of the floor, he strode toward his desk, adrenaline fueling every step. As he neared, a profound dread rooted him to the spot—a sensation that something beyond his understanding lay waiting within the dim glow of his laptop. In an instant, the machine chimed to life, an eerie pulse juxtaposed against the stark silence of the room. 

He hadn’t touched it; hell, he hadn’t even so much as looked at that infernal contraption since signing off for the evening. But there it was, the cursor dancing across the screen as if animated by an invisible hand, and then it happened—the screen flickered, resolved into a document blanketed in white, tauntingly pristine against the dark surrounding it. Shadows pooled on the margins, and there, typing with malignant persistence, was a single message: “This headphone and mobile is mine.”

Words, muted and stark, dripped into his reality like ink spilling from a broken pen, and each character was a shot of icy terror coursing through his veins, mingling with disbelief as he attempted to digest the enormity of it all. He staggered backward, colliding with the chair at his desk—the wood scraping against the floor sent a jolt through his entire body.

Who was playing this twisted game? What unfathomable force had hacked into his possessions—his privacy—and maliciously demanded ownership as if they were mere toys awaiting their turn in a strange and dreadful game? The absurdity of reality wavered in front of him, twisting perceptions into a nightmarish maelstrom. This wasn’t the start of a horror movie; this was his life—a businessman's life, he had thought, but now burgeoning with unseen menace. 

Joss could feel himself trembling, struggling to reassert control over his escalating dread. If only he could shake off this absurdity, this inexplicable intrusion—but he knew that denial wouldn't suffice. It loomed larger than him, wrapping its tendrils around the edges of clarity, threatening to pull him under into the swirling chaos.

He needed to understand—to expose the invader that dared trespass in the sanctum of his existence. It was in that moment of helpless fear, as if the shadows began to swirl with intent around him, that he resolved to uncover the truth behind the curtain of uncertainty that now shrouded him in darkness. 

The sheets twisted around Joss like a serpent, tightening with every restless turn he took in bed. The night stretched out before him, enveloping him in a thick shroud of despair and paranoia. He could swear he felt eyes on him, invisible and insatiable. Every creak of the floorboards seemed to echo with whispers, taunting him, pulling him deeper into madness. He was certain the shadows in the corners held secrets, and they were no longer content to be just shadows.

“Just get some sleep,” he muttered to himself, hoping his voice would chase away the darkness that had settled around him. But the clock ticked mercilessly, the hands moving forward with a predictability that only served to exacerbate his spiraling thoughts. What had he opened with his folly, that damnable intrusion into his life? Was it merely a manifestation of his stress, as Katrina had suggested? Or was his mind playing cruel tricks on him?

Morning found him bleary-eyed and exhausted, stumbling through his morning routine like a ghost. The sunlight forced its way into his apartment; it felt unwelcome, and invasive, a reminder that the world outside spun on without him despite the turbulence inside. He dressed as if on autopilot, donning a crisp blue shirt and dark jeans for the day at his showroom.

The boutique was an inviting place—a blend of sleek design and casual comfort, with shirts hung like delicate banners and jeans stacked methodically, flaunting a myriad of styles. Yet as customers drifted in and out, Joss felt as if he were encased in glass, watching life blur past him in a cacophony of color and motion that felt utterly unreal.

With a mental tug, he decided to call Katrina for lunch. She always brought a spark to his mundane existence. “Hey, Kat. Wanna grab a bite at that Italian place?” he proposed, the sound of his voice energizing the void that clenched around his heart.

“Count me in!” she replied, her laughter like a much-needed balm against the corrosion of his nerves. They always ended up in the same rhythm, bantering, dissecting the trivialities of life over the scent of good food. 

Joss ended the call, the warmth of their conversation wrapping around him like a cozy scarf. Almost on cue, interrupted by a familiar chime, a customer strolled into the store—a wealthy man, distinguished in a tailored suit that reeked of excess. The man surveyed the collection, and Joss felt a swell of optimism. “Good morning! Looking for anything particular?” 

“Ten shirts and fifteen pairs of jeans,” the man replied nonchalantly. 

Joss blinked, flabbergasted. Had he heard that right? “Uh, sure! Coming right up.” He darted to the display, selecting choices that mingled traditional styles with hints of modern design, the transaction taking on an electric fervor.

Minutes later, the sale was finalized. Joss couldn’t believe his luck hardening into tangible reality. For the first time that day, a smile broke through his anxiety—a promise of something easing the tension that wound through his mind like a coiling serpent.

“See you later, darling,” he thought to himself as he tucked a few stray bills into his pocket in a celebratory manner, excitement mingling with apprehension as the clock approached noon. The memory of last night seeped back in, a shadow trailing behind his triumph.

At the restaurant, Katrina arrived, her luminous presence breaking through the fog hanging over him. She slid into the booth with a playful grin. “What’s the scoop? You sound like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Feast and tell!”

“I need to tell you about last night,” Joss said, his voice hoarse, the words tumbling forth as though they’d been trapped inside him. “When I got home, my Bluetooth headphones connected to my phone because it was that freaky. I thought I was going mad, but everything spiraled. My laptop—”

“Hang on.” She scrunched her face in disbelief, eyes wide. “You think this is stress-induced? Maybe you just need to get out more.” 

Joss opened his mouth to protest, but a small part of him wanted to believe her. “But I know I’m not imagining it. I was so scared—”

“Look,” she said, empathy softening her tone. “You’re under a lot of pressure. I mean, selling shirts and jeans isn’t supposed to feel like combat, right?”

“But it wasn’t just that!” he blurted out, desperation giving his voice an edge. “Something happened. I swear.”

Katrina regarded him thoughtfully, then forged ahead. “You’re a logical guy. You explain it to me, and I’ll help you rationalize it.”

His heart sank; he felt her skepticism heavy against his chest. As they nibbled on their meals, Joss carefully recounted the chaos of the night—a diluted horror story emerging from his lips, laced with mischief and mystery. But abandonment and anxiety lingered in the corners of his mind. Something was not right, and as Katrina nodded with measured attention, he realized she still didn’t truly grasp the gravity of his dilemma.

“I’ll be okay,” he said finally, half to himself and half to her. Yet the way the words slipped off his tongue felt shaky, marred with lingering doubts.

When afternoon settled over the city, Joss returned to his apartment earlier than usual, driven by a desire to shake off the remnants of unease clinging to him like ivy. But when he opened the door—an ominous crack echoed in the silence—what assaulted his senses was not relief but cold terror.

His kitchen was a wreck. The water glass lay shattered on the tiled floor, droplets glistening in the dim light like shards of crystal struck by despair. And his books—every single one—had toppled from the shelves, scattered across the floor in a chaotic display reminiscent of a scene from a primal struggle as if someone had unleashed their fury upon this space.

“Hello?” he called, his voice faltering as he grasped the utility knife from the kitchen drawer, knuckles white around the handle. There should have been comfort in steel, but instead, it felt like a futile deterrent against the dread slinking through the air.

He began to search, consciousness straining against a wave of instinctive fear. “Anyone in here?” Nothing stirred—just the oppressive silence punctuated by his own quickening breath. Spying the laptop, he froze; it was open, winking with a ready glow. 

“I shut you down this morning,” he muttered, bewildered dread creeping up his spine. What had opened the trapdoor of his quietude? He stepped closer, heart pounding against its cage, as the document in Microsoft Word blinked like an accusing eye. Words began to form, typed with desolate swiftness.

“How about the lunch with Katrina?” 

Joss stumbled, confusion thundering through him, an unwelcome revelation settling deeper in his mind. His heart raced. Who was doing this?

Suddenly, letters disappeared as scattered messages sprang forth in rapid succession: “Why did you inform Katrina about what happened last night? Why? Am I so scary?”

“You’re not scary!” Joss shouted into an empty room, but the realization that he would receive a reply hung ominously in the air. Then vision overtook words, as the screen theyaved and twisted like a wild vine of confusion springing to life.

“Why are you scared? Am I a Joker?”

Joss felt shaky, his body as waxen as the dread filling the room. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, a desperate plea, but the chilling reply crept forth from the screen in unwavering strokes.

“Why did you say sorry? Am I a Lucifer? ... Joss? I will make you cry... Knock! knock! I will make you bleed!”

The words echoed within the silence of his confined reality—daunting, insistent, devoid of humanity. Entirely removed from the world he knew. Every shred of his pragmatic barrier threatened to shatter, and desperation clung to him like ice—an ever-expanding void.

“Who are you?” he croaked, trembling. 

And then came the chilling reply, unchanging and fearsome: “I am the shadows of your worst nightmares, the darkness that dwells in forgotten thoughts. Ready to play?”

He sank to the floor, the knife clattering from his grip, eyes wide with horror and questions spiraling in an endless loop. No longer simply a man seeking answers, he had become the target—ready to entwine his fate with whatever unseen force had orchestrated this maddening nightmare. What could possess such malevolence? And was there truly a way to escape its clutches?

"Who are you?" Joss asked again, his voice barely above a whisper as if the words themselves might summon the darkness closer.

"I am the one who knows you better than you know yourself," the laptop screen flickered back, the words weaving a spell of dread. "I am the keeper of your deepest secrets, the whisper in your ear when the lights go out."

Joss's eyes were fixed on the screen, his mind reeling with the implications. "How is this possible?" he muttered, his fingers trembling as he reached out to touch the keyboard.

"Possible?" the screen repeated, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. "You want to know about the possibility? I'll show you the possibility. I'll show you the depths of your sanity."

Suddenly, the laptop screen went black, plunging the room into an eerie silence. Joss was left staring at the dark screen, his heart pounding in his chest.

"What's going on?" Katrina's voice cut through the silence, making Joss jump. She stood in the doorway, a look of concern etched on her face. "I saw your lights on and thought I'd drop by. What's wrong?"

Joss hesitated, unsure of how to explain the bizarre events unfolding before him. "It's...it's just this laptop," he stuttered. "It's doing weird things."

Katrina raised an eyebrow. "Weird things? Like what?"

Joss gestured to the laptop, but the screen remained black, uncooperative. "It was typing out messages on its own. Threatening me."

Katrina's expression changed from skepticism to alarm. "That's not possible. There must be some kind of glitch or—"

"Glitch?" the laptop screen flickered back to life, the word "glitch" mocking them in bold letters. "You think this is a glitch? I'll show you a glitch."

The screen began to flash rapidly, the words "I WILL MAKE YOU BLEED" repeating over and over, like a mantra of madness.

Joss and Katrina exchanged a terrified glance. "What do we do?" Katrina whispered.

Joss shook his head, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. "I don't know, but I think we need to get out of here. Now."

As they turned to leave, the laptop screen went black once more, the silence that followed even more unsettling than the chaos that had preceded it.

"Wait," Katrina said, her voice low and cautious. "Do you hear that?"

Joss listened, his ears straining to pick up any sound. And then, he heard it too – a low, ominous humming noise, like the distant rumble of thunder on a summer's day.

"What is that?" Joss whispered, his heart sinking.

The humming grew louder, the air in the room beginning to vibrate with an otherworldly energy.

"I think it's coming from the laptop," Katrina whispered back, her eyes fixed on the screen.

As they watched in horror, the laptop screen flickered back to life, the words "IT'S TIME TO PLAY" blazing across the screen in blood-red letters.

And then, everything went black.

But as the darkness closed in, Joss could have sworn he heard a voice, low and menacing, whispering a single, chilling word in his ear: "Soon..."

Joss awoke to the sound of relentless beeping—an incessant, mechanical droning that threatened to crack his sanity wide open. Disoriented, he pushed himself up from the floor, and it took a moment for the haze to lift, revealing the harsh fluorescent light above casting a sterile glow across the surroundings. Gone was the comforting mess of his familiar living room. He was now in an unfamiliar place, the sterile scent of antiseptic curling in his nostrils.

“What...where am I?” he murmured, blinking against the harsh light as he turned his head. 

“Joss? Joss!” A voice broke through the haze, and then he saw her. Katrina leaned over him, her face a mask of concern, eyes wide like saucers.

“Kat?” he croaked, rubbing his eyes, still grappling with the remnants of the dream that clung to his thoughts like cobwebs. “What happened?”

“You collapsed,” she said, relief flooding her voice. “I thought you were going to— I don’t know—pass out for good! I called an ambulance.”

“An ambulance?” Joss echoed, unease tumbling through him. “But what about the laptop? I was—”

“I don’t know,” she interrupted, shaking her head vehemently, panic lacing her tone. “When I woke up, you were just... lying there. The screen was flickering, and before I could do anything, you... you just fell.”

“Is it still here?” He pushed himself up, his heart racing. “Where’s the laptop?”

“It’s gone,” she replied, looking away momentarily as if the truth itself hurt too much. “When they found you, it was just... off. No one knows where it went. The doctors think you had some kind of episode, maybe from stress or... panic attacks.”

Joss felt the panic rise in him again. “No! You don’t understand. It was more than that! There was something—”

“Something like what, Joss?” her voice sharpened, eyes narrowing. “The last thing I saw, it was just a machine! You’re saying it talked to you?”

“It wasn’t just a machine!” he shouted, surprising himself with the force of it. “It was—”

“Joss!” Katrina snapped, her voice cutting through his spiraling thoughts. “You need to calm down. Look, I believe you, okay? But you have to help me understand what’s happening.”

He could see the worry etched on her face, the crease running between her brows, and it made his heart ache. “It was alive…twisted. It knew me, Kat. It… spoke to me in ways I couldn’t explain. Just before it went dark—” 

The memories slammed into him like a wall of water. “It whispered something, something about playing a game.”

“Playing a game?” she repeated incredulously. “What are you saying?”

“Something lurked behind it.” He was shaking now, and it felt as if the very walls were closing in. “I felt like it was alive like it was drawing energy from me, and when it flickered, I swore it was about to pull me into the screen. I can still hear that voice.” 

Katrina scoffed, disbelief flickering across her features. “You think it was a ghost? An entity from some other realm? That’s what you’re saying?”

“The laptop—it was just the gateway. And whatever it was, it had my number.” He paused, looking around at the unfamiliar hospital room, the stark white sheets and the metal machines beeping and blinking like some eerie fortress of a reality he didn’t understand. “I think I woke something up. And now... now I don’t know if it’s gone.” 

With a flick of her wrist, Katrina made the chair creak as she sat back. “You seriously think this thing could be... hunting you?” 

“Hunting? I don’t know. But it said something about soon—”

“Soon what?” Her eyes were wide, and in that moment, Joss thought he saw the fear mirrored in them, the same churning tumult inside him. 

“Soon... it will come for you,” he murmured, feeling the dread tighten around him like a vise. “I can’t shake the feeling that it’s just waiting.” He clenched his fists, as he recalled the messages blaring across the screen—I will make you cry... I will make you bleed...

The expression in Katrina’s eyes melded from disbelief to concern, her voice lowering into a hushed urgency. “Joss, we need to let someone know. We need to find the laptop before it’s too late.” 

“Before what’s too late?” He was leaning forward, searching her face for answers that didn’t exist. “What if it shows up again? What if it’s already here?” 

“You’re not making sense!” she exclaimed, frustration creeping into her tone. “How can a laptop be a threat? It’s a hunk of metal! Just—”

“Just?” he interrupted, exasperated. “You don’t understand, it knows things! It knows me! And if it knows me, what else does it know?” 

Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed down the linoleum hallway outside, growing louder and louder, until the door swung open. A nurse entered, clipboard in hand, with a weary smile plastered on her face. “Good news, folks! You’re awake! How are we feeling today?”

“Not exactly thrilled about being here,” Joss replied, his throat dry. 

“Oh, that’s understandable,” she chirped, oblivious to the tension in the air. “These episodes can be quite unsettling. We just want to monitor you for a few more hours before discharging.” 

Moving closer, she checked his vitals and scribbled notes, glancing at the two of them with mild curiosity. “So, how’d you end up here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Katrina opened her mouth, ready to explain, but Joss interjected, desperation clawing at him. “It’s about the laptop... Please, have you seen anything strange? Not just the usual tech issues?”

The nurse stopped writing and regarded him with a bemused expression. “I think everything looks standard here. Just run-of-the-mill anxiety...”

“Standard?” Joss asked, frustration bubbling up inside him. “No, you don’t get it! This isn’t just anxiety! I was being haunted by it!” 

The nurse gave him a puzzled glance. “Are you saying your laptop is haunted? That’s a novel one for my shifts.”

Katrina shot him a look, evidently trying to temper the situation. “Can you just—uh, can we just focus on how to leave here?”

“Yes! That’s what I want! I need to get back before it—” 

Before he could finish, a harsh alarm blared, drowning out their discussion with an obnoxious shriek. The nurse's eyes widened in alarm. “Just give me a moment.”

As she dashed out of the room, Katrina turned to Joss, fear giving shape to her features. “This is not happening, Joss. Do you honestly think it will come for you? You have to let it go.”

“Let it go?” he echoed, anger flaring as uncertainty gnawed at him. “You think I have a choice? What if it’s already starting?”

Katrina opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, the lights flickered above, plunging the room into a sudden, unsettling darkness. The alarm continued to sound, but the sound morphed into static, echoing as if something had interrupted the signal, drowning them in a heavy blanket of dread.

“Joss?” Katrina whispered, her voice shaking. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” he confessed quietly, every hair on his body pricking with awareness. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as an inkling of dread enveloped him. 

And then, the lights flickered back to life. When they did, the laptop—his cursed laptop—was sitting at the end of the room. On the tray table where it had never been, blinking with a new message.

A collective gasp escaped them.

“Ready to play?” it glowed in bright red letters, pulsing with an insatiable hunger.

The laptop sat before them, an alluring yet sinister gatekeeper to some unfathomable horror. The screen glowed with vibrant urgency, the words “Ready to play?” pulsing like a heartbeat. 

“Joss, we can’t... that thing isn’t real,” Katrina gasped, her breath hitching as she took an involuntary step back. It was as if the glow of the screen threatened to pull her in, strip her of her sanity. “It’s messing with your mind!”

“No! It’s not just in my mind!” Joss shouted, clenching his fists at the sides of the bed. “Did you see that? At the very beginning, when I touched it... there was something there. It was more than just a computer.” 

The static continued to hum, an ominous undertone as if it were conspiring with the device to ensnare them both. "What if it’s trying to lure you back in? We can’t afford to engage,” Katrina insisted, urgency coloring her words.

“Engaging is the only way to understand it!” he countered, his heart racing. “What if it shows me something we need to know? What if it’s a warning?”

“A warning?” Katrina frowned, grappling with disbelief and edged with fear. “You think it sent you an invitation? Like it wants to play some kind of twisted game?”

“It has to mean something!” Joss lifted himself off the bed, the adrenaline surging through him with every word. “I would rather face whatever this is than sit here in cowardice!” 

“But—” Katrina began, her voice pleading, but Joss had already ambled nearer to the glowing screen.

Glancing at the door as if it might block escape, he felt the insistent pull of the laptop, almost like a hand reaching out from the abyss. “I’m not afraid of the truth.”

Katrina grabbed his arm. “You should be! Whatever this is... it’s not just a ‘truth’, Joss. This is darkness.”

“Maybe that darkness has more answers than we expect. What if—” His voice trailed off as he leaned closer. The message blinked again, rapidly cycling through words and images, all jumping through the screen like ghosts in a fog.

“Come on, Joss,” she begged, her grip tightening on his arm. “We need to get help!” 

“Help?” Joss echoed, frustration simmering just under the surface. “To what end? This thing... it wants a player. And if I don’t engage, then what happens next? Will it chase me, haunt me?” 

Katrina hesitated, and for just a moment, he could see the shadow of doubt crossing her face. “Maybe if we shut it down...” 

“That won’t solve anything!” he spat, refusing to let go of the idea. “Just blanking it out doesn’t make the problem go away!” 

“Then what do we do?” she shot back, her voice rising. “Talk to it? Say ‘Hi, Laptop! How’s it going?’”

“Maybe that’s not so far-fetched,” he said, pushing away her sarcasm. His gaze was set, unyielding. “This isn’t merely a machine, and I think it wants to communicate.” 

“Or it wants to manipulate you,” she fired back, indignation rising in her voice. “You’re not hearing yourself! It could be setting a trap: it could be leading you to things you don’t want to meet!” 

She was right, and he inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of that truth. The alarm in his chest began to thrum like the static hum that seemed to reverberate from every corner of the dimly lit room. But what could be worse than an unknown truth gnawing at his sanity from the shadows? 

Taking a deep breath, he said, “If it’s truly alive, then it should be able to respond. I need to know what’s at stake.” In that cacophony of thoughts, hope and dread danced together, lighting a volatile path to an uncertain adventure. 

With a final glance exchanged between them—one filled with doubt and compassion—he reached out, hands trembling ever so slightly, and typed: “What do you want from me?” 

Instantly, the screen darkened, as if in response to a low-dispositioned grunt of dissatisfaction. The static transformed into a heavy, suffocating silence, and just as he thought it would stay quiet forever, words began to materialize.

“With every question, I take your breath away.”

“What does that even mean?” Katrina gasped beside him, her voice climbing the ladder of uncertainty. “It sounds threatening!” 

“Exactly,” Joss replied, defiance etching itself on his features. “It’s a challenge—a dare. I can't let it win.” 

Before he could type again, a new message exploded onto the screen, bold and menacing: “LET'S SEE HOW DEEP YOU'RE WILLING TO GO.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Katrina whispered, eyes wide in disbelief. Her body stiffened like a coiled spring ready to snap. "Is this some kind of warped joke?” 

The laptop chimed in, a mechanical sound echoing through the room; the keys clattered as if struck by invisible hands. The screen transformed, revealing an image—a chilling number countdown—the digits ticking down from  10...9...8... 

“Ten seconds?” Joss whispered, dread pooling at the base of his spine. “What will happen?”

“I... I don’t know,” Katrina’s voice trembled, eyes darting to the door. “Should we run?”

“What if it’s watching us, Kat? Maybe it needs us to choose!” he urged, his heart racing as adrenaline coursed through his veins. “Maybe it requires a response to whatever question it’s posing.” 

“Don’t you see?” she implored urgently. “This isn’t a matter of choice; it’s manipulation, and it’s getting closer to trapping you!”

“Trapping, or setting free?” he asked, feeling a thrill of rebellion course through his blood. He fidgeted as the countdown continued; if something was powerful enough to mess with reality like this, then it was worth discovering. 

6...5...4...

“What if we do nothing?” Katrina hissed, desperation slicing her words. “What happens then?” 

“I don’t know!” Joss shouted, the walls closing in as shadows slithered and lurked around them. “But I can feel whatever it is that’s watching us, and I’d rather face it than hide.” 

3...2...1...

The lights flickered again, a menacing echo twisting in the core of his being. The countdown ended with a loud *ding*, refracting through the room like an electric current, the laptop screen exploding with revelations. 

“EXCELLENT. LET THE GAME BEGIN.”

With a sinister flash, the room went cold, and the alarms muted, fading to nothing as if an unseen hand had silenced them all at once. Panic rushed through Joss, but he felt the pull of the screen intensifying, magnetic energy clinging to reality like cobwebs.

Katrina clutched his arm again, looking lost and terrified. “What just happened? What did it mean by the game?”

And as the shadows thickened around them, Joss had only question after question swirling in his mind: What kind of game? What was at stake? And the most troubling of all—What if there was no way to play it without losing?

Joss could feel a palpable change in the atmosphere, a weighty hush that settled around them like a thick fog. The hum of the hospital faded into a distant memory as his pulse hammered in his ears. “It... it can’t be real,” he stammered, trying to force reason into the chaos swirling within him.

“What else could it be?” Katrina replied, her voice a pitch higher than usual, edged with anxiety. She darted glances around the room as if expecting invisible eyes to lock onto them. “This is insane! Joss, we have to get out of here! This is dangerous!”

“Dangerous?” he echoed, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “Dangerous is a cup of coffee to chase away a hangover, Kat. This is something else. This is a descent into madness.” 

“What if it’s trying to bait us? Play with us like puppets?” Her voice trembled, and the fear etched into her features told him she was fighting a battle with her sanity. 

“Maybe it wants something deeper,” he said, forcing himself closer to the laptop, the screen more ominous than ever. “It’s asking us to reveal ourselves.” 

“Reveal? There’s nothing to reveal. It’s just a glorified piece of electronics!” she spat, but her voice faltered. “Right?” 

Just then, the laptop flickered to life again, the display illuminating the room in a surreal glow, casting eerie shadows that danced like specters around them.

“A mind is only as deep as the questions it dares to ask,” flashed across the screen. 

“What does that even mean?” Katrina whispered, anxiety curling her fingers around Joss’s arm. “It’s playing games with words!”

“Yeah, but what if those words are the key?” he argued, an insistent tide of determination swelling inside him. 

“LET US BEGIN WITH A SIMPLE TRUTH,” the laptop continued, the tone shifting to something almost conversational, yet tainted with an undercurrent of menace. “TELL ME OF YOUR FEARS.” 

“Fears?” Joss echoed incredulously, staring into the screen as if it might burst into flames. “That’s what this is? A psychological game?”

“We can’t trust it, Joss!” Katrina insisted, panic threading through her words. “This could be a trap, a trick to pull you in!"

“And what about your fears?” he shot back, their voices weaving into a tapestry of tension. “What happens when you deny them? Nothing good!”

“Fine!” she snapped, her voice cracking slightly. “If we’re going to engage with it, then let’s talk about something we can manage, like getting out of this place!”

The screen flickered, and another message appeared, “TIME IS NOT STATIC; IT IS ONLY PERCEPTION.”

“What...” Katrina began, but he cut her off.

“See? It’s referencing our fears. Maybe it knows our timelines, our choices. Maybe it’s trying to upend our realities.”

“Or it wants to rip us apart,” she shot back, her brow furrowed in growing distress. “What could knowing our fears possibly accomplish?”

Joss’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “Maybe it’s a doorway to understanding. Listen, what’s scarier: playing its game or lingering in ignorance?”

Katrina looked away, uncertainty gnawing at her resolve, but he could see the flicker of bravery in her eyes—twin beacons struggling against encroaching darkness. 

“Fine, let’s pour our fears into that black abyss!” she shouted, throwing her hands up. “I fear failing. Failing at everything! Relationships... work... everything spiraling out of control!”

The laptop hummed, stuttering for a brief moment as if integrating her honesty, and new words slowly materialized on the screen. 

“FAILURE IS A SHADOW, DISTORTING LIGHT.” 

“See?” Katrina said, her expression glowing with faint victory. “It’s just using our own words against us!”

“Or it’s exposing truths we’d rather avoid,” he countered. “And then it will play on those truths.” 

“What do you mean?” Her brows knitted together, quizzical yet frightened.

“It knows what frightens us the most; it wants that power!” he shouted, urgency forcing the words from his throat like a burst dam. “What if we’re feeding it?!”

Katrina’s eyes hardened, her refusal surfacing again. “This isn’t helping! We need to find a way to shut it down!” 

“Shut it down? What if it’s too late for that?” His voice dropped, an ominous weight pulling it lower as he turned back to the screen. “What do you fear, Joss?” flashed in big, bold letters, mocking him.

The chill crept in alongside memories—the pain of loss, a shadowy figure from childhood, and voices that echoed in an empty room. The sensation washed over him, enveloping him; he couldn’t shake it away. 

“Joss!” Katrina pulled him back. “Don’t answer it! We’re feeding this monster!” 

“What would happen if I did?” he questioned, more to himself than to her. “What if it’s waiting for me to take that leap?”

“What if it’s waiting to consume you?” she implored, panic creeping back into her voice. “You know what happened last time you got sucked in!”

But he couldn’t tear his gaze from the screen—an invisible cord tethered him to it. Maybe being drawn into his fears was the only way to regain control. Yet even as he deliberated, shadows began to swirl behind him, creeping like tendrils drawn from the depths of something unspeakable.

Then, just as the atmosphere thickened, something shifted in the background—a glimmer, a shape moving just beyond his peripheral vision.

“Kat—did you see that?” 

“See what?” she replied sharply, glancing over her shoulder. “I didn’t see anything!”

Another flicker, a rush of something cold skirting the edges of his senses, evoking a primal fear deep within, as if whatever lurked in the shadows realized it could find its way in. 

And then again, the laptop: “TIME TO FACE YOUR TRUTHS. WHAT HAUNTS YOU, JOSS?”

“I... I’m not afraid to answer,” Joss muttered almost inaudibly. “My past... it’s haunted me.” 

“Stop! You’re playing right into its hands!” Katrina begged.

“What if my past is the key to breaking free?” he countered, conviction solidifying in his resolve. “What if it’s exactly what it wants?”

As he took a breath, the shadows lengthened, darkening the room even further, and the air grew heavy. Joss felt himself being pulled toward the screen, almost entranced by its glow, pushing him to uncover the hidden truths he thought he had buried.

But right as he was about to type, the lights flickered violently, and in the shadows, a figure began to emerge, coalescing from the darkness like a terrible caricature of fear itself. Something that had thrived on their denial and their darkness.

“Kat, behind you!” Joss screamed just as the figure lunged forward, a screaming silhouette that was far too familiar yet all too nightmarish. 

The room transformed into a primal battlefield as Joss’s heart raced with terror. “Kat, duck!” he shouted, instinctively pulling her down with him as the figure lunged at them, a grotesque echo of every shadowed fear he had ever buried.

“What is that thing?” Katrina hissed, her breath hot against his ear, a shaky whisper pierced with disbelief and panic.

“I— I don’t know!” Joss cried, backing away, but the figure followed, gliding with a swift grace that defied any mortal constraints, an apparition of raw, unchained dread. “It looks like... it’s feeding off our fears!”

“Feeding?” Katrina echoed, her fear blossoming into sheer terror, eyes wide as she glimpsed the creature. “It’s not just feeding! It’s become a part of this nightmare! What does it want from us?”

“Maybe it wants to multiply,” he gasped, struggling to maintain his composure. “What if it’s birthed from my past? The stuff I'm not ready to confront?”

“What did you bring back with you?” she shot back, shaking him slightly as if to ground him. “We can’t confront something we don’t even understand! How do we fight something that exists between dimensions?”

But as she spoke, the figure grew closer, morphing with every heartbeat into a chilling semblance of Joss himself. It twisted and warped, revealing the insecurities, the failures he had tried to expunge from his life—memories splintered into fragmented reflections tracing their way through the depths of his mind.

“Stop!” he shouted, the desperation in his voice reflecting the panic clawing at his insides. “You can’t do this to us!” 

“It’s drawn to desperation,” Katrina shouted back, taking a steadying breath. “They always are. Joss, think! This isn’t just a game... it’s a reflection. It’s looking to claim us both.”

The doppelgänger reached out, ghostly fingers extending, brushing against the air—horrifyingly close. “You can’t outrun what you are,” it rasped, the voice echoing with an unnatural resonance that chilled their blood.

“What do you mean?” Joss shouted, riddled with fury and confusion. “You’re not me!”

“Am I not? We share the same fears—the same failures, don't we?” The creature’s lips curled into a smile, one imbued with the darkness of endless despair. “You think you’re different? I am your truth, Joss. The truth you refuse to accept.”

Katrina grabbed Joss’s arm. “It’s twisting your words! Don’t give in!” she urged, fear threading her voice with urgency. “We need to fight this together!”

He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of disbelief. “You don’t understand! It's exposing me—every part of me I’ve kept hidden. It’s not just a reflection; it’s everything I’ve ever been ashamed of!” 

“Telling us what we already know doesn’t make it right!” Katrina snapped back, her breath a frantic rush. “You’re giving it power, Joss! It’s just a monster born of our mistakes and regrets!”

“How do you fight something that’s a part of you?” he shouted, edging closer to the creature. The air crackled with tension, each word spoken weighing heavily within the anticipated stillness of the room. 

“You refuse to confront the darker corners of your mind. That’s all it is! Face it head-on!” Katrina insisted, her voice fierce and unwavering. “Remember that night, Joss? The night you ran away instead of confronting your demons?”

The creature’s form shimmered, briefly morphing into the visage of a girl, her eyes pleading, the shadows of old memories swirling around her. “You left me,” it hissed, the bitterness zesting its voice. 

Joss felt his chest tighten, the realization swelling within him. “No! That’s not—” 

“But it is!” Katrina cut him off. “It’s your guilt brought to life. You’ve abandoned that part of yourself!”

“Shut up!” he roared, anger igniting within him. “That was years ago—I can’t— I can’t change it.”

"Perhaps you can't," the figure advanced, deconstructing piece by piece into images of his past failures. “But you can embrace it.” 

“Embrace it? You want me to accept that I’m a coward?” Scorn emerged in his voice, mixed with despair. 

“Yes, a coward. A coward is afraid of his own shadow. We’re the same now,” the figure whispered menacingly, extending its bony fingers, like blackened roots reaching for him. “Face yourself.” 

Before he could respond, the laptop flickered again, and haunting messages appeared. “WHAT DO YOU FEAR, JOSS? LET IT CLAIM YOU.”

“Whatever you are, whatever this is,” Joss shouted, feeling the anger boiling over the shame. “No! I am not afraid! You’re a figment; you don't have power over me unless I allow it!”

Katrina pressed forward, determination ratcheted tight against her resolve. “It’s only holding power because you’re allowing it to pull you down this rabbit hole of guilt! Destroy that narrative! Reverse it!”

Joss felt a seismic shift somewhere deep. “You think just saying ‘I’m not afraid’ makes it true?” he challenged, turning toward her, vulnerability sticking in his throat, fear swirling like a tempest in his gut.

“Maybe it can,” she insisted, “but only if you believe it! You’ve stood in the shadow long enough. You’re better—stronger than your past! Fight back!” 

The creature paused, eyes piercing like shards of ice. Joss met its gaze with renewed determination, feeling the surge of will begin to amplify in his chest, filling him with an almost unnatural courage. 

“What… what happens next if I fight?” he asked, almost to himself, a whisper crackling with doubt.

“I don’t know,” Katrina admitted her voice half a tremor, half a reassuring anchor. “But standing here in fear won’t lead you to any answers.”

Gathering the remnants of his fading resolve, Joss squared his jaw, the anger previously simmering beneath the surface shifting into fortitude. “You think you can haunt me? Do you think I’ll cower in the shadows? No more! I’ve carried you like a shroud long enough!” 

The figure bent almost paradoxically, disintegrating into shadows that threatened to envelop him. “You can’t escape. You are me.” 

“No!” he proclaimed, voice rising. “I am not you! You’re the ghost of my past that I can shed! I’m not afraid of what happened; I’m ready to make peace with it!”

And as he spoke, the shadows around him seemed to recoil as if stung. Vibrations rippled through the air, shaking the very fabric of the room. 

Katrina shouted into the chaos, “Do it, Joss! Drive it back!” 

Finally facing the creature head-on, Joss breathed deeply and charged forward, arms wide as though embracing the torment. “You have no control! This ends here—not with fear but with acceptance!”

At that moment, a blinding light erupted from the laptop, casting the shadowy form away. The figure writhed and twisted, its features contorting in rage. "You fool! I am eternal!”

“Not if you fade into nothing!” Joss yelled, and with a surge of power he'd never before tapped into, he pushed against the last shreds of doubt, pouring every ounce of acceptance into the heart of that darkness.

But with power surged resistance, and in the final second, as Joss felt the ground beneath him rip asunder, something wicked whispered from the depths: “This isn’t the end, Joss. You haven’t escaped me yet.”

As the shadows pulled back, the screen flickered ominously, and yet again, the countdown began anew, echoing like a funeral dirge: 10... 9... 8...

“What else is lurking in this void?” Joss asked, heart pounding against his ribs—the fear lingering yet again, relentless in challenging him.

As the final countdown echoed like a death knell in the dim room, Joss felt the air tremble with an unnameable unease. “What does that mean?” he whispered, his voice just above the low hum of the laptop. The glow from the screen pulsed like a heartbeat, unsettling and relentless. 

“I have no idea,” Katrina breathed, her wide eyes reflecting both fear and determination. “But we’ve upset something—something that doesn’t like to be threatened.”

“Ten seconds to what? What’s it planning?” Joss’s gut twisted, tightening like a coiled spring, ready to snap. He felt the weight of the room shift, an impending dread inching closer, suffocating them both. “What’s it going to unleash?”

“Whatever it is, we need to act now!” Katrina said, snapping her head toward the door, her nerves on a razor's edge. “We can’t just wait here for it to decide what to throw at us.”

At that moment, the laptop vibrated, and new letters blazed on the screen, “TICK... TOCK...TIME IS AN ILLUSION...WHAT IS HIDDEN WILL SOON BE REVEALED.”

Joss swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “It can’t mean—”

“Seven,” Katrina interrupted, urgency sharpening her voice. “We need to find a way to shut this down. Flush it out of here.”

“Go? Where?” Joss shot back, glancing around the room as if it might give him some semblance of a plan. “There’s nowhere to hide! It's all around us!”

“Five,” she murmured, then looked into his eyes. “If we don’t confront whatever this is... if we don’t end it, we’ll end up part of its narrative. Just like that creature!”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Joss asked, even as a chill slithered down his spine. “I mean—”

“Three! Stop talking!” Katrina snapped, shaking her head in disbelief. “We have to move!”

A crack of thunder rumbled outside, and the sound sent vibrations through the floor, a physical reminder that the storm brewing beyond the window had found its way inside. It felt as if the universe was holding its breath, waiting for its next move. 

“Wait!” Joss shouted, suddenly seeing their only potential salvation, albeit a strange one. “What about those files the hospital had? The… research reports? It’s all connected—whatever this is, it’s built on something concrete, data hidden within layers of this madness.”

“What do you think we’ll find there? More shadows?” Katrina glared. 

“I don’t know!” he yelled back, desperation cracking his voice. “But we have to dig deeper. Or we might lose everything. It doesn’t end here. It’s only beginning!” 

“Two!” the screen blared, brightening and casting elongated shadows that reached for them with gnarled fingers. 

“Then let’s do it!” Joss felt the resolve harden in his chest, fueled by a mix of trepidation and purpose. “We can find a way. If nothing else, we can gather evidence, and figure out how to betray this nightmare.”

Katrina swallowed hard, nodding reluctantly. “Okay. But we need to be quick and not get lost in this—they’re leading us down a rabbit hole.”

“Ready?” Joss asked, glancing at her one last time. 

“Three—”

“Go!” he commanded. They bolted towards the hospital doors, the countdown still echoing like a ghostly refrain in their ears.

As they shoved the doors open, an oppressive darkness engulfed them, swallowing the last remnants of light. But it felt different now—charged as if the very shadows reverberated with hidden truths, sculpted from fear but layered with potential revelations.

“What if…?” she started, but Joss silenced her with a look.

“No ‘what ifs’ now,” Joss urged, leading the way down the musty corridors he thought he knew but felt more alien by the second. “We need to reach that server room. We can unravel something here, I know it.”

The fluorescent lights overhead flickered ominously, teasing them both with darkness that blended into the corners like predatory eyes. “You still think it’s connected to the past? This whole haunting?” Katrina asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“Maybe,” Joss replied, a knot twisting in his stomach. “Or maybe it’s something more. Something beyond what we understand. We can’t ignore the message.”

A sudden crash echoed through the hallway behind them, and they both froze. “What was that?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

“I don’t know, but we can’t wait to find out,” he urged adrenaline coursing as he pulled her toward the stairs that spiraled down into deeper shadows. “We need to move—now!”

When they reached the server room, the door creaked open, revealing an expanse of blinking monitors and cables, tangled as a web spun by a malevolent spider. The air was thick with the hum of machinery, each beep and whirr a sinister accompaniment to their frantic breaths.

“Is this where they kept the files?” Katrina wondered aloud, scanning the space.

“It has to be,” Joss confirmed, taking a few hurried steps inside. “We’re looking for anything that ties into the research. The stories behind this!”

As he approached the first terminal, he felt a chilling sensation—a presence creeping up his spine, a whisper slithering just out of earshot.

“What hides in the darkness?”

“Joss!” Katrina’s voice broke through, urgency slicing the tension. “Focused, remember? This is just what we need to fight against, not dwell on!”

“Right!” he pulled up the interface, fingers flying across the keyboard, desperation fueling his movements. “We need the archives. Old logs. Any records!”

“Look!” she called, pointing to a monitor that illuminated an image—a grainy video feed of past patients, their eyes vacant and hollow, as though drained of life. “This… this isn’t right.”

“What is this?” Joss muttered, feeling sick as the plays of despair rolled in front of them. “Was this part of their experiments? What did it turn them into?”

Suddenly, the loud whir of machinery died, plunging the room into cautious silence. The low hum of the laptop was the only sound left. It felt almost too quiet, causing a shiver to travel down Joss's spine. 

“You got it?” Katrina pressed, peering at the screen. 

“No,” he sighed, frustration mounting. “It’s password-protected. We need to find any access codes.” 

“I can help!” she insisted, eyes scanning the desk. “Look—those binders! They might have notes or something we can use.”

Just as Joss turned to follow her gaze, a sudden rumble echoed around them, shaking the room violently. The lights flickered and plunged them once again into darkness, and the temperature dropped sharply, frost forming across the screens.

“Joss!” Katrina called, her voice laced with panic. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted back, scanning the pitch-black room. “We have to find a light!” 

At that moment, the computer sprang back to life on its own, flickering images of terror across the screens. Faces—twisted, anguished, and pale—filled his vision, a million eyes glaring at him from the depths. And then, in a voice that echoed through the void, Joss heard a sinister truth spoken softly yet hauntingly:

“What is yours will always find you.”

“There!” Katrina shouted, pointing at the lights flickering back on. But as the glow returned, the faces morphed into something grotesque, an amalgamation of shattered dreams drifting through the screens—an evident reminder that their fears were only beginning to rise.

With that, horrifying screams erupted from the laptop, raw and violating, as the reflection of their past twisted into a living nightmare. 

“Find it before it finds you.”

Joss felt terror claw at his insides, and the question beat against his skull louder than the nightmare unfolding before him: What else had they unleashed—what deeper horror awaited them now, lurking just beyond their grasping fingers?

The room pulsed with frenetic energy, screens casting erratic shadows that danced like lost souls in torment. Joss's heart raced in sync with the cacophony of screams emanating from the terminal, each one more piercing than the last. “We need to shut it down!” he shouted over the chaos.

Katrina was already at work, furiously typing on the nearest console. “If I can access the control panel—there has to be a way to terminate the feed!” Her fingers flew across the keyboard, but the display only sparred with her efforts, taunting with flashing errors.

“It’s like it’s alive,” Joss muttered, a sickening chill clawing up his spine. “It knows what we’re trying to do.”

“You think it can read our intentions?” Her voice faltered slightly. “That’s impossible, right?”

“I wish I could say that,” he replied, glancing nervously at the monitors that flickered with otherworldly imagery—distorted faces contorted into everlasting horror, eyes swirling with longing and despair. “What do they want?” The question wove itself in Joss’s mind, a tapestry of dread.

“What we want to discover,” Katrina said, urgency transforming her voice into a whip-crack. “It thrives on our fear! It feeds on our curiosity!”

“Then we need to be smart about it,” Joss said, straightening his spine, determination igniting in the depths of his being. “What if we lure it away?”

“How do we do that?” she shot back incredulously, her fingers hovering over the keys. “We can’t just pretend it’s not there.”

“Maybe we don’t have to,” he replied, mind racing. “What if we trigger something else? A distraction? Something that pulls its attention just long enough for us to escape this hellscape?”

Katrina hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her features. “What if it doesn’t work, Joss? What if—”

“No ‘what ifs’!” he interrupted, narrowing his eyes with unyielding resolve. “We can’t afford that. We can’t allow this thing to anchor itself. It’s the only way.”

The moment hung in the air, heavy with dread and determination. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. “Then what do we do?”

Joss scanned the room frantically, seeking inspiration, when an idea struck him. “The old film projector; it has to be somewhere here. If we can find the footage of the experiments—the ones meant to manipulate consciousness—the patients… If we show it what it wants, maybe it will break its hold, even for a moment.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t decide to use us as a ‘presentation’,” Katrina said, trying to mask her fear with a wry grin.

“Very funny,” he replied, forcing confidence back into his voice. “We need to hurry; I don’t like the way those faces are watching us.” He indicated the monitors, their horrifying expressions seeming to burrow deeper into his psyche. 

Katrina turned toward a stack of old equipment against the far wall, hidden in the shadows. “Over here!” she exclaimed, already picking through the dusty relics.

“Do you see it?” Joss asked, his heart pounding in synchrony with the mounting terror. The screams grew quieter for the moment as if the presence was momentarily caught off guard.

“I think so!” She dragged a heavy black box from the heap, adorned with misplaced enthusiasm. “This must be it.”

Suddenly, the lights flickered once more, and Joss felt a sharp jolt in the atmosphere. “Quick, set it up! We don’t have much time!”

"Joss!” Katrina’s voice turned sharp as steel, cutting through the heavy anxiety. “The screens… they’re showing something else!”

He turned, dread pooling in his stomach as a new image swam on the monitors—a dark room, another part of the hospital, the very walls drenched in the ghosts of despair. And there, standing among the shadows, were the patients from the video feed, their eyes wide, their mouths forming silent screams.

“Tell me you see that?” he asked, stepping closer, chills erupting on his skin.

“I don’t understand… are they… are they trapped?” Katrina’s voice quivered, torn between horror and curiosity.

“Or they’re trying to warn us,” Joss said, grasping for a thread of hope buried beneath layers of darkness. “We’re not alone in this. We can’t let them pull us in.”

The walls pulsated around them as whispers slithered from every crevice, coiling into their ears. “You have come. You must come with us...” The voice, a blend of the living and the lost, sent another wave of dread crashing over him.

“Forget it!” Joss roared, cutting through the confusion. “Focus on the film! We’re not here to join their doom; we’re looking for a way out!”

As he shouted, an unseen force swept through the room, a gust of chill that rattled the screens, causing the images of the patients to momentarily distort into grotesque parodies of humanity.

“Almost… got it!” Katrina’s fingers danced against the controls, wrestling against the data trying to break through like a malevolent tide. “If I can just—”

“Focus!” Joss barked, feeling the atmosphere coiling tighter around them, as though the very shadows threatened to devour their resolve.

With a final keystroke, the projector flickered to life, casting an eerie glow across the dim room. The film whirled, the background noise barely discernible over the whimpering of shadows closing in.

“Is it working?” Katrina’s voice was tight with fear.

“Give it a minute,” he urged, watching as the aged footage unfolded—a montage of experiments, hopes mired in despair, faces blurred by anguish.

As the film whirred, the ghostly faces on the monitors seemed to lean closer, entranced by the projections. The whispers intensified, forming a dissonant choir of desperate souls. “Join us... escape the pain...”

“Joss!” Katrina cried, eyes wide. “Look!”

He turned just in time to see the monitors crackle, images of the patients momentarily breaking through — ghostly fingers reaching for him, yearning but terrified. They mirrored everything Joss had felt since they first encountered the specter haunting their lives. 

“Don’t look away!” he yelled, feeling a deep sense of connection with the beings caught in torment. “We need to break this cycle! Embrace it!”

And as Joss spoke, the whispers grew louder, cascading into a clamorous chant: “The cycle can never end... it will consume you all!”

“No! We refuse!” he shouted back, forcing every ounce of strength into his voice. “Look at what you were—look at who you can be!”

The screens began to distort once more, faces flickering and contorting into fresh agony, feeding off his words. And in that instant, Joss understood—the faces represented the fear he had left unaddressed, unfinished pieces of himself that he had hidden away, and they were feeding the entity, keeping it alive.

“We have to confront it!” Katrina shouted, her voice strained against the noise. “What’s left unsaid will pull us in!”

“Then we’ll say it!” Joss resolved, ready to dive into the fray. “We can beat this, Katrina! You and me, together!” 

As they shouted their convictions at the screens, the extinguishing of the scream echoed in a barrage of static. And then—or perhaps from nowhere at all—the projection displayed a final, chilling image: a mirrored reflection of them both, yet twisted and grotesque.

“What—what is that?” Katrina’s voice cracked as fear twisted her expression.

“It’s us!” Joss gasped, horrified realization hitting him hard. “Is this our truth?”

At that moment, the shadows ripped the air around them, engulfing the claustrophobic room with a shadow of something far worse. “What will you choose? The truth or the illusion?”

Waves of darkness surged, clawing at their insides as they both struggled to hold on. Joss felt terror gripping him mercilessly, squeezing at his throat.

“Joss—” Katrina began, but her voice was swallowed by the static merging with agonized cries.

The monitors warped and flickered, threatening to spiral into chaos as their reflection reached out, hands writhing in anguish. “Join us...” 

No longer able to tear himself from the nightmare, Joss felt the pieces of himself unspooling in the dark. He had to ask the question that danced on the edge of his consciousness—the question that would shape their fate. 

"You're telling me we're supposed to look at that... thing?" Katrina's voice wavered, her eyes frozen on the twisted reflection staring back at them from the monitor.

"Like hell I am," Joss said, his hand trembling as he pointed at the distorted image. "We have to... to confront it. Face the truth."

"Confront what? Yourself?" Her words dripped with a mix of fear and disgust.

"The hell if I know," Joss snarled, frustration boiling over. "But we can't just stand here, pretending it doesn't exist."

Katrina took a step back, her eyes darting toward the dark recesses of the room. "Joss, I don't think we should... I don't know what that thing is or what it wants."

"Neither do I," he shot back, his voice rising, "but I know we can't ignore it. Not now. Not ever."

The monitor flickered once more, and the reflection began to contort, its twisted face morphing into something even more grotesque. Katrina's scream was cut short by a loud crash as the projector suddenly died, plunging the room into darkness.

"What... what happened?" she stammered.

Joss's voice was barely audible. "I think it... I think it broke."

As they strained their eyes to adjust to the darkness, a faint glow began to emanate from the far side of the room. A small, flickering flame danced on the edge of the console, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"It's the backup generator," Joss whispered, his eyes fixed on the flame. "It must've kicked in."

Katrina's voice was laced with a mix of awe and terror. "And it's... it's showing something."

As they peered into the shadows, a low hum filled the air, like the gentle buzzing of a thousand wasps. The flame seemed to grow larger, and a hazy image began to take shape around it.

"What... what is that?" Katrina breathed.

Joss's voice was barely audible. "I think it's... it's us."

The image grew clearer, a shadowy figure standing in the center of a desolate landscape. Joss and Katrina exchanged a terrified glance as the figure began to move, its footsteps echoing through the darkness.

"Joss, what's going on?" Katrina whispered.

He shook his head, his eyes locked on the screen. "I don't know. But I think we're looking at a choice... a choice between truth and illusion."

The figure reached out a shadowy hand, and Joss felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

"What do we do?" Katrina asked, her voice barely audible.

As they hesitated, the hand reached out and touched the screen. The flame flickered once more, and the image vanished, plunging the room into darkness.

"Joss?" Katrina's voice was laced with fear. "Joss, are you there?"

A heavy silence fell over the room, and Joss's voice was barely audible. "I... I think we're running out of time."

As the darkness seemed to press in around them, a faint whisper echoed through the room, sending shivers down Joss's spine.

"You can't escape the truth."

And then, the lights went out, leaving Joss and Katrina lost in a sea of darkness, their hearts pounding in sync with the silence.

"Joss? Katrina? Hello?" A faint voice echoed through the darkness, growing fainter by the second.

"Katrina?" Joss called back, his voice shaking slightly. "We're... we're over here."

"Where?" Katrina replied, her voice sounding farther away. "I thought I... I thought I saw you by the console."

"I'm right here," Joss said, trying to reassure her. "We need to find some way to get some light. We can't see a thing."

"Light?" Katrina's voice was tinged with desperation. "We don't need light. We need... we need to get out of here."

As they fumbled through the darkness, a faint scratching sound echoed through the room. It was soft at first but grew louder and more insistent.

"What's that?" Katrina asked, her voice tight with fear.

"I don't know," Joss replied, his heart racing. "But I don't like it. We need to find some way to get out of here. Now."

The scratching grew louder, and a faint smell of smoke began to waft through the air.

"Fire?" Katrina's voice was a whisper.

Joss didn't answer. He was too busy frantically searching for a way out. But every door they found led only to more darkness.

"Katrina?" Joss called out, his voice growing more desperate.

"Joss, I think we're going the wrong way," she replied, her voice laced with fear. "We need to... we need to find the stairs."

As she spoke, the scratching grew louder, and the smoke grew thicker. Joss could feel the air growing hotter, and he knew they were running out of time.

"Katrina, come on!" he yelled, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the darkness.

But as they stumbled forward, the scratching stopped, and a heavy silence fell over the room.

"What was that?" Katrina asked, her voice barely audible.

Joss didn't answer. He was too busy listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

And then, out of the darkness, a voice spoke.

"You're not going anywhere," it said. "You're right where we want you to be."

Joss spun around, but there was no one there.

"Who said that?" Katrina asked, her voice trembling.

Joss shook his head. "I don't know. But I think... I think we're in a lot of trouble."

As they stood there, frozen in fear, the voice spoke again.

"Welcome to the real experiment."

“What do you mean, the real experiment?” Katrina’s voice caught in her throat, panic surging through her.

“It’s exactly what you think it is,” the voice reverberated, cold and distant, seeming to seep from the shadows themselves. “We’ve been watching you. Every choice. Every fear.”

Joss squinted into the darkness, his heart thudding fiercely against his ribs. “Who are you? Who’s watching?”

A low chuckle filled the air, wrapping around them like a noose. “All things considered, wouldn’t you prefer not to know? Ignorance can be a sweet escape, no? What good is truth if it only robs you of your sanity?”

Katrina clutched Joss’s arm. “This is unreal. It can’t be happening. We have to get out of here. It's a trap!”

“Ah, so you admit it then,” the voice continued, mocking them. “You realize you’re already part of it.”

Joss swallowed hard, fighting off the suffocating dread creeping in. “What do you want from us?”

“From you?” The darkness thickened, and a chilling breeze washed over them. “Nothing but your rawest thoughts, your darkest fears. You’ve been chosen for something... significant.”

“Chosen?” Katrina spat, her voice laced with disbelief. “We didn’t sign up for anything. We weren’t part of your sick experiment!”

“Precisely why we chose you. People who don’t believe in the unseen are so much more fun to watch squirm.”

Their surroundings shifted slightly as if the very air around them were shifting forms, whispering secrets of a world just beyond sight. The scratching resurfaced, sharper and more frantic this time.

“What is that?” Joss asked, dread pooling in his stomach. “What’s happening?”

“It is time for you to confront what you’ve ignored all along,” the voice said, echoing through the dark like an ominous gong. “Do you think you can outrun your burdens? Your past?”

Katrina moved, eyes wide and frantic. “Joss, there’s something over there!” She pointed to the edge of the flickering glow, where shadows twisted unnaturally. “This way!”

Joss hesitated, uncertain. “But what if we—”

“Just trust me!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “We don’t have any other choice.”

With renewed resolve, they moved towards the shifting shadows, but the voice called after them, dripping with sinister amusement. “You can run, but you cannot hide.”

As they reached the darker part of the room, the swirling shadows began to take shape. Face after face morphed into existence—distorted, anguished, and painfully familiar.

“Are those... people?” Katrina gasped. 

Joss squinted at the figures. They were faces from their lives, twisted with fear and regret. Friends, family, and strangers they had once brushed against. “It can’t be...” he breathed.

“Reflections of your world,” the voice suggested, “and here to remind you of your failures.”

“No! I won’t let this—” Joss shouted, but the words crumbled as the faces reached toward them, mouths opening in silent screams. 

An icy grip gripped his heart. “Katrina, we’ve got to go! Now!”

But as they turned to flee, the path that had brought them here disappeared into an inky void.

“Do you see now?” the voice crooned, dripping with malicious glee. “No escape, no respite. Only confrontation.”

“Tell me it’s just a dream,” Katrina stammered, fear overwhelming her.

“Is it?” The voice pierced the air, the shadows expanding, engulfing their escape. “Or is it merely the beginning of your reckoning?”

“No! No, no, no!" Joss shouted, frantically tearing away from the grasp of the shimmering faces, the echoes of his fear ringing in his ears.

Katrina staggered beside him, her breaths ragged and frantic. “What do we do?” she cried, her eyes darting around, searching for any sign of a way out. “We can’t just—”

“We have to find a way through!” Joss interrupted, more determined than ever. “What else can we do?” 

As if responding to his words, the shadowy figures undulated, writhing like smoke. They seemed to grow sharper, more defined, their features crystallizing into fleeting glimpses of moments long forgotten—someone's betrayal, a child's scream, the dead eyes of a familiar face.

“What is this place?” Katrina whispered, choking on the words, her body tense as a bowstring. “Why is it showing us this?”

“They’re... memories,” Joss said slowly, dread curling in his gut. “It’s feeding off our guilt.”

“Feeding?” she echoed incredulously. “You think it wants to eat us alive, Joss?”

“It wants something worse,” he replied, urgency tightening his voice. “It wants the shadows within us. The things we've pushed down, the things we try to forget. Look!"

He pointed to a face that emerged from the crowd, twisted beyond recognition—an old friend of Joss’s, bloodied and broken, a spectral accusation lurking in his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” the visage rasped its voice a cruel whisper that clawed at the back of Joss’s mind. “You left me, Joss. You abandoned me when I needed you most.”

“No, I—” His voice wavered, caught like a fly in a web. 

Katrina stepped forward, shaking her head. “You’re not real!”

“Not real?” The figure glared reproachfully. “How could you say that? I’m everything you tried to deny.”

As the shadows thickened around them, swirling menacingly, Joss felt a fog rising in his mind, laden with memories he'd long buried. “Katrina, don’t listen to them! This is all a trick!”

“Trick or not,” Katrina countered, fear manifesting in her wide, searching eyes, “we have to keep moving. You can't let it plant those seeds of doubt!”

Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath their feet, and the shadows writhed in furious motion. The distorted faces screamed silently, pushing against an unseen barrier, yearning for release. With every anguished expression, Joss felt his resolve teetering on the brink.

“Is this my fault?” he blurted, panic seeping through him like poison. “Am I really to blame?”

“Why are you letting it get into your head?” Katrina insisted, pulling him closer. “You can’t let it bring you down!”

“But what if it’s right?” Joss’s voice cracked, a painful admission tumbling out before he could stop it. “What if I am guilty?”

The ground quaked again, the shadows closing in, tilting at dangerous angles. “All you have to do is admit it,” the figures chorused, their expressions morphing into twisted glee. “Admit your failure, Joss!”

“No! I won’t let you do this!” he shouted, snapping back to reality. “We’re getting out of here! We have to find something—anything to push through this!”

“Do you think there’s a way?” Katrina gasped, her fear mingling with determination. “What if we follow the noise? The scratching... maybe it’s something more than just these faces.”

“Maybe it’s our lifeline,” Joss agreed, his heart pounding with the realization. “But what if it leads us deeper into this madness?”

“As opposed to staying here?” Katrina shot back fiercely. “I’m not ready to join them!”

Joss clenched his jaw, knowing they had no choice. “Then let’s do it,” he said, steeling himself. “Together.”

They burst forward, weaving through the writhing shadows, the faces clawing at their minds. The closer they drew to the dissonant scratching, the more the lingering voices faded into a cacophony of growls and whispers, as if the shadows themselves were enraged at their audacity. Yet, somewhere deep within that chaos, a flicker of light beckoned.

Joss and Katrina plunged forward, the scratching noises intensifying. It wasn’t just sound; it felt like a living thing, gnawing at the very core of their thoughts, pulling them in a direction both terrifying and necessary. 

“Do you hear it?” Joss shouted, his throat dry, desperation fuelling his voice. “It’s getting louder!”

“I can’t tell if it’s here or in my head!” Katrina retorted, her eyes wild as they scanned the inky darkness. “It could lead us to our doom!”

“Or freedom!” Joss shot back, gritting his teeth. “It’s a chance, and it’s all we’ve got!”

As they sprinted toward the noise, every shadow seemed to ripple with malevolence, dark tendrils reaching out to claw at them. The faces in the darkness twisted in agony, their silent wails echoing in Joss's ears, each a reminder of his buried guilt. But he pushed past that; he had nowhere to go but forward.

The scratching morphed into a rhythm, a heartbeat of despair that matched the thrum of their anxiety. And then, without warning, a blinding light erupted ahead, illuminating the path before them. For a desperate moment, it felt like hope. The glow pulsated, warm and inviting, contrasting sharply with the suffocating shadows.

“Look! There!” Katrina pointed, her voice nearly lost in the din. 

“What if it’s a trap?” Joss breathed, halting in his tracks.

“What’s worse than this?” she replied fiercely. “We’re already trapped here!”

Nodding, Joss forced himself to move again, each step toward the light feeling like a weight being lifted. The scratching escalated to a frenzy, now accompanied by a low, guttural growl. They stumbled into the beam of light, and for a moment, all was silent. 

Ahead stood a door, old and weathered, bricks crumbling around the edges. Its surface splintered, but light poured from the crack below, almost beckoning them closer.

“Do you think we should open it?” Katrina whispered, glancing anxiously back at the darkness, where the faces writhed and contorted in despair.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Joss replied, his bravado sounding hollow even to himself. “The worst has already found us.”

He reached for the knob, but it felt impossibly cold beneath his fingers. A deep breath steadied him; he recalled all the regrets that had haunted him, waiting to brother him into nothingness. “If this leads us to the truth, we have to face it.”

“Together,” Katrina pressed, placing her hand over his. “If it is our past, we can’t let it shatter us.”

Joss nodded, steeling himself for whatever lay beyond. As he twisted the knob, the door swung open with a creak that resonated in the eerie silence. 

Inside, the room was bright, filled with swirling mist and outlines of figures flickering at the edges, like beings stuck between realms. It felt both surreal and painfully familiar, a dreamscape weaved from fragments of his own life.

“What is this place?” Katrina gasped, stepping inside, her voice trembling in wonder and fear. 

“Some kind of... projection? It’s showing us something,” Joss murmured, moving deeper, where the light formed a pulsating shape—a heart, perhaps, beating with the rhythm they’d followed.

“Look!” Katrina said, eyes wide with realization. Figures emerged from the mist, clear now—people Joss recognized, but their features blurred by the fog of memory. His childhood, his tragedies, every mistake—woven into a tapestry of choices he wished he could undo. “How is this... possible?”

“It’s like they’re waiting for us,” Joss said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like they want to remind us why we’re here.”

An overwhelming dread spread through him as the figures danced closer, a tide of lost souls. One figure stepped forward from the mist—his old friend, the one he'd thought he'd left behind.

“Joss!” the figure shouted, but his mouth formed silent words. “You have to wake up! This isn't real! It’s—”

Suddenly, the mist began to swirl violently, faces morphing into twisted masks of agony. The growls from the shadows behind him intensified, a feral anger intensifying.

“What are you doing?” Katrina shouted, gripping Joss’s arm. “We need to go back!”

They turned, but the doorway flickered, wavering like the flames of a dying fire, as shadows swirled menacingly around them.

“Joss!” Katrina yelled again, panic edging her voice. “Please! We can’t stay here!”

“Go!” he shouted, pushing her toward the uncertain light, his mind racing. “If we don’t face this, we’re trapped forever!”

As the figures surged toward them, and the shadows closed in once more, the path behind them blurred into a darkness that threatened to swallow them whole.

Joss felt the weight of the darkness close in around them, the mist billowing ominously as shadows clawed at his sanity. His heart raced with a primal fear, compelling him to flee yet tethering him to the luminous figures at the center of the room. 

“Joss!” Katrina’s voice crackled with urgency, snapping him from his daze. “We have to do something! They’re coming!”

“I know,” he said, breathless. “But if these are our pasts... what if they hold the key to escaping?”

“You think facing them will set us free?” she replied, incredulity flashing across her features. 

“It’s either that or let the darkness consume us,” he insisted. “We can’t keep running. Not anymore.”

The shadows churned, a murky mass filled with whispers and gnashing sounds. They twisted like living nightmares, eager to claim Joss's soul, turning his buried secrets against him. He felt the familiar pangs—regrets gnawing at his insides, rising like bile in his throat.

“What did we do?” Katrina murmured, her voice trembling. “What brought us to this?”

“Decisions—bad choices. We thought it was behind us,” Joss said, his thoughts half-rooted in reality, half-lost in the swirling fog. “But it’s not. It will never be behind us until we face it!”

“Then let’s do it!” she cried, anger and fear coiling together in her chest. “Let’s stop running! I’m not going to be another ghost flitting between memories! I refuse!”

With a fierce resolve, she stepped forward into the heart of the glowing mist. “Who are we, without our pasts?”

Joss hesitated, heart thumping in his chest. “No, wait! Katrina, don’t—”

But it was too late. She vanished into the surging figures, their forms shifting like wraiths in the night. 

“Katrina!” he yelled, panic igniting within him. He ran toward where she stood, arms outstretched, eyes sparkling with a wild mix of terror and joy.

“Katrina!” he cried again, reaching out as the shadows surged around them.

“Joss!” She turned, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. “It’s beautiful! Look at them—they're--”

Yet her words twisted into something else. The light flickered, the figures transforming into dark harbingers of despair, their faces now mocking and accusing. The kaleidoscope of regrets spiraled into chaos, and her elation morphed into horror.

“They’re not here to help,” Joss said, dread pooling in his stomach. “They want us to relive it!”

She plunged deeper into the miasma of spirits, and Joss felt her slipping from him. “Katrina! Come back!” he bellowed, reaching for her, the space between them stretching like a chasm.

But she didn’t respond. Instead, she seemed to dissolve among the phantoms, enveloped. “It’s okay, Joss!” Her voice echoed strangely—caught between realms. “I need to do this!”

“No!” He rushed closer, feeling the suffocating push of the shadows pressing against his back. Every step toward her felt like wading through syrupy despair, every inch an eternity.

“Joss—” Her voice became a wail, a cry of pain, and then silence, leaving behind a haunting whisper, drifting like ashes in the wind. "I'm sorry..."

The light flickered. A moment of clarity hit him: if he didn’t confront his demons, she could disappear entirely, swallowed whole by the very past they were trying to escape. 

“Face them!” Joss screamed, fury and desperation flooding him. “If we have to relive this nightmare, then let’s do it together!”

With one last gasp of courage, he stepped into the heart of the light where the glowing forms writhed, transformed from expectant hope into slithering dread, echoing his worst fears: failure, betrayal, and loss. Faces of those he loved twisted into grotesque masks of accusation and longing.

“Joss!” they cried, their voices a cacophony rising like the tide. “You did this to us!”

“No!” He covered his ears, but the noise drowned him, a torrent of lost memories rushing in.

“Face the truth!” they insisted, hands reaching for him, clawing at his heart. “You are no better than any of us!”

The air felt electric around him, and he staggered back, struggling for air. “I’m not afraid of you!” he shouted, knowing the words sounded hollow even to him.

“Then prove it!” they hissed in unison. “Prove it with your soul! Face what you truly are!”

At that moment, the shadows lunged forward, the figures swirling together, forming a massive shape that loomed over him, mocking and sadistic—a reflection of everything he wished to forget.

“Are you strong enough?” it boomed, voice dripping with darkness. “Will you confront these monsters, or will you turn away again?”

Joss’s heart raced. He thought of Katrina, her courage amidst the chaos, her fierce glimmer of hope that now felt so far away. 

"Face what you truly are!" the darkness repeated, the words echoing through Joss's mind like a mantra.

"We are the ones you've been running from," they hissed. "The ones you've tried to forget. We are you, Joss."

He took a step back, heart pounding in his chest. "No," he said, shaking his head. "That can't be true."

"Then prove it," the darkness said, its voice now a cold, calculating whisper.

Joss's mind reeled as the shapes around him began to shift and writhe, their features blurring and morphing until he could no longer tell which ones were his memories and which ones were just the product of the darkness.

"What's going on?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

"We're showing you the truth," the darkness said. "We're showing you the faces you've been hiding from."

Joss's eyes scanned the room, and he saw the faces of people he had loved and lost. Faces of people he had hurt and betrayed. Faces of people who had hurt and betrayed him.

"No," he said, his voice cracking. "This isn't possible."

"Is it?" the darkness asked, its voice dripping with malice. "Do you know what you've been through?"

Joss's mind was a jumble of memories and half-remembered nightmares. He saw himself as a child, playing with friends in the woods. He saw himself as a teenager, driving away from home with a friend who had died in the crash. He saw himself as a young adult, making promises he couldn't keep and watching as they were broken.

"Stop it," he begged, covering his face. "Please stop this."

But the darkness only laughed, a cold, mirthless sound.

"You can't escape the truth, Joss," it said. "You can't hide from yourself."

Joss's head was spinning as the faces continued to swirl around him. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of memories.

"What do you want from me?" he screamed, his voice lost in the chaos.

"We want you to face what you've been doing," the darkness said. "We want you to face what you've been hiding from."

Joss's eyes locked onto one face in particular - a face that looked eerily familiar, but whose features he couldn't quite place.

"Who is that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The face smiled, and Joss felt a chill run down his spine.

"That's you," the darkness said. "Or, at least, it's a part of you that you've managed to keep hidden."

Joss's mind reeled as the face began to shift and change, morphing into different personas and different memories.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his voice desperate.

"You're starting to remember," the darkness said. "You're starting to see the truth about yourself."

Joss's eyes felt like they were being ripped apart as the faces continued to swirl around him. He felt like he was losing his grip on reality.

"Wait, don't let it happen," Joss begged, his voice trembling as the faces continued to swirl around him. "I don't want to remember."

"Too late for that," the face replied, its features morphing into a cruel grin. "You've been running from this for too long. It's time to face the truth."

"What truth?" Joss demanded, his mind reeling with fear.

"The truth about your past," the face said, its voice dripping with malice. "The truth about what you did, and what was done to you."

"No," Joss screamed, trying to cover his ears. "I don't want to hear it."

But the face just kept talking, its words cutting through Joss like a knife. "You killed your best friend, Joss. You killed them in a car crash, and you've been haunted by the memory ever since."

"Stop it," Joss begged, his eyes streaming with tears. "That's not true."

"Is it?" the face replied, its grin growing wider. "Or is it just something you've been trying to convince yourself of for all these years?"

Joss's mind was racing with memories, half-remembered and distorted. He saw himself driving the car and saw his friend slumped in the passenger seat. But was it real? Or was it just a nightmare?

"I don't know what to believe," Joss said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The face leaned in closer, its breath cold against Joss's face. "You don't have to believe anything," it said. "Just face the truth. Face what you did."

Joss felt a surge of adrenaline as he realized the truth. He remembered the car crash, remembered the sound of screeching tires and crunching metal. He remembered the feeling of his friend's life slipping away.

"I'm sorry," Joss said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

The face just kept smiling, its grin never wavering. "Sorry isn't enough," it said. "You have to face what you did. You have to face the consequences."

As Joss stood there, frozen in horror, the face began to fade away, leaving him alone in the darkness.

But Joss knew he wasn't alone. He knew that he was being watched, that there were eyes upon him.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything went black.

“Joss? Joss!” a distant voice echoed through the blackness.

It was a voice he recognized but couldn't place. Was it a figment of his imagination, or had he truly slipped into a deeper chasm, an abyss that devoured memory and hope alike?

“Wake up! You have to wake up!” 

The urgency in the voice pierced through the shadow. Joss blinked against the dark, feeling the pressure of something immense, something cold squeezing the breath from his chest. 

“Who’s there?” he called, his voice breaking the silence like glass shattering. “Show yourself!”

“Joss, please—”

“Show yourself!” he shouted, desperate for clarity. “Stop playing games!”

As if in answer, the darkness began to recede, revealing the comforting glow of a flickering overhead bulb. The dim light illuminated a familiar space—a room cluttered with discarded journals and crumpled papers, his childhood writing desk in one corner, but it felt wrong. The air was thick with a tension he couldn’t place, and shadows pooled like spilled ink in the corners.

“Who are you?” A familiar figure emerged from the gloom, framed by the doorway. The face was smudged, like fixing a blurred photograph. But as Joss squinted, recognition crept in like ice through veins.

“Sarah?” 

“Yes!” she exclaimed, rushing to him. “Finally! I thought... I thought I lost you!”

“Lost me? Where the hell are we?” he asked, confusion tightening. “Is this a dream?”

“A dream?” She scoffed, the humor trailing off into concern. “This isn’t a dream. This is where you’ve been hiding. This place feeds on your fear, Joss. It’s not just memories; it’s your guilt manifesting.”

“Guilt?” Joss echoed, his heart racing again. “My guilt? Why would I be hiding here?” 

“I didn’t know you were burying the truth so deep!” she said, grasping his arm tightly. “We must leave before it finds us—the darkness. It feeds on shame and fear, and it's what you’ve turned into these last few weeks. You’re not even aware of what’s out there.”

“What’s out there?” he asked, eyes wide. “What did I do?”

Her gaze turned grave. “Don’t you see? You’re not here because of you. You buried what happened to Troy deep down, but it never left. It’s been watching.”

“Troy?” The name dripped from his lips like poison. “No… I thought I killed him—I—I didn’t want to!”

“And now there’s a price,” Sarah insisted, her voice urgent. “You must confront it, Joss! You must stop running! Or it will consume all of us!”

“I can’t!” Panic surged through him. “What if I can’t face it?”

“You have to—!” she shouted, but her eyes jumped to a flicker of movement behind him. The shadows pulsated, stretching toward him, reaching. “Joss! Move!”

“Where?” he yelled, feeling the world tilt. A sense of dread hung heavy in the air like a warning siren, which made every heartbeat throb louder in his ears.

“The only way is through! Trust me!”

“Through what?” His words hung lost in the noise of the encroaching shadows.

But then he noticed something—a doorway behind Sarah. It was barely recognizable now, almost like a portal made of swirling darkness and light. 

“Go! Before it catches us!” Sarah shouted, her voice breaking.

“And if I go through?” he asked, trembling. “What will happen to Troy?”

Sarah’s eyes softened, flooding with unshed tears. “You’ll finally know.”

The shadows stirred nearer like a predator poised to strike.

“What does that mean?” he pressed, heart racing. “What do I have to face?”

But the swirling darkness began to close in, and Sarah’s form started fading like an old photograph. The room began to tremble, as if it could no longer hold the weight of all Joss had buried.

“Joss!” She reached out, fingers barely brushing against his. “Don’t let it win—go now!”

But as he stepped toward the door, uncertainty gripped him. 

As Joss stepped through the doorway, the world around him dissolved into chaos. The shadows closed in, a vortex of darkness that seemed to pull him apart and put him back together again. He felt himself being stretched and compressed, his mind reeling with the impossibility of it all.

And then, suddenly, he was through.

Joss found himself standing in a desolate landscape, the sky above a deep, burning red. The air was thick with otherworldly energy, and he could feel the weight of his guilt and shame bearing down upon him.

As he looked around, he saw a figure in the distance. It was Troy, his best friend, the one he had killed in the car crash.

"Troy?" Joss called out, his voice shaking with emotion.

Troy turned to face him, and Joss saw that his eyes were black as coal. "You've been running from me for a long time, Joss," Troy said, his voice low and menacing.

Joss took a step back, fear crawling up his spine. "I'm sorry, Troy. I was so sorry."

Troy began to walk towards him, his eyes burning with an inner fire. "Sorry isn't enough, Joss. You have to face what you did."

As Troy drew closer, Joss saw that his body was twisted and distorted, his skin gray and decaying. "What have I done?" Joss whispered, horror creeping over him.

"You've been living a lie, Joss," Troy said, his voice dripping with malice. "You've been running from the truth, and now it's time to face it."

Joss tried to turn and run, but his feet were rooted to the spot. Troy reached out and grasped his arm, his touch like ice.

"Come with me, Joss," Troy said, pulling him forward. "It's time to see the truth."

As Joss was dragged deeper into the desolate landscape, he saw visions of his past, of the crash, of the moments leading up to it. He saw himself, driving recklessly, laughing and joking with Troy.

And then, he saw the crash, the sound of screeching tires and crunching metal. He saw Troy's face, twisted in pain and fear.

Joss felt a wave of grief and guilt wash over him, and he knew that he would never be able to escape the truth. He had killed his best friend, and now he had to face the consequences.

As the visions faded, Joss found himself back in the room, Sarah standing over him, her eyes filled with tears.

"Joss, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joss looked up at her, his eyes empty and hollow. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm so sorry."

The End