The faint warmth of sunlight crept across a room veiled in dust and cobwebs. It fell upon a still figure lying on an old bed, the sheets long forgotten by time. The air was stale, yet oddly familiar.
A soft groan broke the silence.
Eric's eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, he simply stared at the cracked ceiling above him, watching particles of dust drift through golden light. His body felt strangely light, his mind dazed. Slowly, he sat up, his breathing steady but confused.
He looked around.
The room was his — he was sure of it. The same wooden desk stood against the far wall, still stacked with scattered books. His wardrobe was slightly ajar, cobwebs stretching from its handle to the floor. The curtains, once snow-white, were now grey and stiff with dust. Time had moved here, yet everything was frozen in place.
Eric rubbed his temples. "What… is this place?" His own voice sounded foreign.
He swung his legs off the bed, his bare feet touching the cool floor. His reflection in the cracked mirror caught his eye, and he froze.
The boy who stared back at him was striking — almost ethereal. Red hair tied into a loose ponytail trailed behind him, with two soft strands falling perfectly by the sides of his face, giving him a calm yet magnetic presence. His eyes, a cold grey, seemed to shimmer faintly in the light. His nose was pointed, lips thin and pale red — almost too perfect. He wore a plain white T-shirt and black shorts. Simple. Clean. Untouched.
He blinked slowly. How…?
The last thing he remembered — the last real thing — was an orange sky, a field of bodies, the smell of death thick in the air. He had crawled from beneath corpses, gasping, terrified. And then… that voice.
"I've been waiting for you," it had said.
It knew his name.
Eric clutched his chest as the memory burned faintly in his mind, but the rest was gone — as if someone had ripped away every piece that came before it.
He looked around the dusty room again. His home.
If he was here, then—
"Mom? Dad?" he called out, stepping into the hallway.
No answer.
His voice echoed through the house, bouncing against the walls. The silence that followed was deafening.
He tried again, louder this time. "Mom! Dad! I'm home!"
Still nothing.
Eric began moving, his footsteps light against the marble floor as he moved from room to room. The mansion was as grand as he remembered — high ceilings adorned with elegant chandeliers, polished rails winding down the staircase, portraits of his family hanging along the walls. Yet everything was draped in dust and cobwebs, untouched for what felt like years.
He rushed down the stairs, his voice growing more desperate.
"Dad! Mom! Where are you?"
He tore through the kitchen — empty. The study — silent. The library — lifeless. The air carried no trace of them, not even their scent.
Panic began to build inside him, his heartbeat loud in his chest. "They have to be here," he whispered. "They have to…"
But the house gave no reply.
After scouring every corner, Eric returned to the sitting room, his steps slow now, his voice trembling. He looked around at the mansion that once felt alive — now it was only a shell of memory. He sank onto the dusty couch, his mind spinning.
Then, a thought surfaced — sudden, clear.
The lab.
His father had always been proud of his work as a scientist. He had an underground facility beneath the estate — his secret world.
Eric stood. "The lab… maybe they're there."
Without hesitation, he ran for the back door. As soon as he stepped outside, sunlight poured over him. It was warm — almost too warm — but it brought no comfort. The garden behind the mansion had grown wild, vines crawling over cracked stone, the once-trimmed hedges now monstrous in shape.
Ahead stood a warehouse, old but still intact.
Eric sprinted toward it, his heart racing with a fragile hope. He pushed the door open — it groaned loudly, resisting after years of silence.
Inside, the air was thick with dust. Empty shelves lined the walls, their surfaces bare. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet. He scanned the ground, muttering to himself, "Where is it… where is it…"
He moved with urgency, searching for the hidden entrance he knew existed. His hands brushed across the floorboards, the walls, the corners. Nothing. His muttering grew more frantic.
Then — click.
A hollow sound echoed from beneath him.
He froze, then knelt quickly. Beneath a layer of dust, a faint seam split across the floor. He pried it open with both hands, revealing a square hatch. A dark stairway spiraled down below.
Eric took a deep breath and descended.
Each step creaked as he went deeper into the earth, the dim light above fading until only darkness surrounded him. Then, faintly, a cool blue glow appeared below.
He reached the bottom. The underground lab stretched before him — walls tiled in white, though now dull and cracked. Machines stood silent, covered in layers of dust. Flickering blue lights blinked along the walls, the hum of dying power still faintly audible.
Eric took a step forward.
That was when he smelled it.
A strange, sweet aroma drifted through the air.
He froze. The scent was… pleasant. Warm. Almost inviting. It seeped into his senses, calming and disturbing at once. He inhaled again — and suddenly, something deep inside him stirred. His heartbeat quickened. His breath shortened. His body trembled with a strange hunger he couldn't name.
"What… is that?"
He tried to resist the pull, but his body moved on its own. His steps grew faster, his pulse louder in his ears with bloodshot eyes. The smell grew stronger the deeper he went, wrapping around him like invisible threads.
Soon he was running — almost without realizing it.
At the end of the corridor, he saw a faint light spilling from a room. His mind screamed to stop, but his body wouldn't obey. He reached the door and placed a trembling hand on the handle.
"Mom? Dad?" he whispered.
He pushed the door open.
The hinges cried out, and the dim light revealed the scene within.
At first, his mind refused to comprehend what he was seeing. His vision blurred, his thoughts fragmented. He blinked — once, twice — but the sight didn't change.
There, before him, was his mother.
She was seated, bound to a chair. Her head hung low, her breathing shallow. The air around her was heavy, thick with something metallic. What was really out of imagination was that, she was missing both her limbs, her blood dyed the floor in red, the entire floor was covered in blood.
And beside her—
"Dad…?" Eric's voice cracked.
The man turned slowly toward him. His father's once-kind eyes were clouded with something feral, something monstrous. His lips were covered in blood, and when he lifted his face fully into the light, Eric saw it — faint glints along his teeth, like sharpened fangs, and was devouring his mother's limbs, while smiling.
The realization hit him like a blow. His breath caught, his chest tightened painfully.
"No…"
He stumbled backward, his hands trembling. "This—this isn't real."
His eyes darted to his mother again. Her breathing was weak, her skin pale. Her gaze lifted — slowly, painfully — to meet his. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to form words.
Eric's vision blurred with tears of his own. "Mom…"
His throat locked up. He wanted to run to her, to reach her, but his legs refused to move. Every nerve in his body screamed in disbelief and horror.
For a long, unbearable moment, no one spoke. The silence was broken only by the faint hum of the failing lights.
Then, finally—
"E…ric…"
Her voice was trembling, soft as a dying wind. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at him.
He stepped forward, barely breathing. "Mom—"
She shook her head weakly, her lips quivering.
"Run…" she whispered.
The word echoed through the room, fragile yet piercing.
Eric stood frozen, his mind blank, his heart shattered.
And then, in the silence that followed, the faint hum of the machines died completely.
Darkness fell.