The door groaned shut behind me, cutting off the worst of the wind but not the cold.
The air was thick—stale, heavy—with a sharp smell that reminded me of burnt rubber mixed with something sour I couldn't place. It wasn't warmer at all.
"N-N… no… n-no," I muttered, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely shape the words. "I-I… i-it's… n-not e-enough. N-n-not enough t-t-to s-save m-me. I-I'm… s-s-still g-gonna f-freeze—I'll… I'll d-d-die. D-definitely d-die."
A shiver ran through me, and I hugged myself tighter.
"I… I n-need t-to f-find h-heat. F-fast."
I kept walking. The hallway stretched on, broken tiles clicking under my bare feet. Up ahead, something flickered.
The lights were stronger here, glowing from tangled wires strung across the ceiling—purple, blue, and green, pulsing like some artificial heartbeat. They bathed the space in a dreamy, shifting haze that spilled across the floor and walls.
And in that haze—I saw shadows.
Tall, strange silhouettes stretched and twisted through the colored light, their outlines warping as the glow shifted. For a second, I couldn't tell if they were real—or just tricks of my mind.
The figures on the walls were still. Unmoving, like they were waiting for me.
They had to be people—the adults I'd been counting on, the ones I knew were supposed to be here.
My heart leapt before my brain could catch up. Maybe they could help me. I wasn't alone.
I started moving faster, almost stumbling as I rushed forward. The colors shimmered on the walls, curling around corners like they were leading me somewhere.
I didn't question it. I just followed the human looking shadows.
"H-H… hello…?" I called out, voice cracking.
But no one called back.
Did they not hear me? I said it! I tried to make it loud—but it came out whispery and thin, like my voice didn't have enough weight to exist.
I tried again. This time I forced more air, straining, and finally shouted, "P-please!"—but it squeaked instead, breaking apart in ways I hadn't intended, sharper and higher than it should've been, echoing off the walls like a cracked whistle.
This body wasn't made for shouting like that.
"I-If… if a-anyone c-can h-hear m-me… I… I n-need h-help. I-I d-don't… d-don't kn-know wh-where I am!"
Something shifted along the shadowed wall, the dim outlines cast on the surface, I caught the sudden snap of heads turning.
They heard me. Finally. A flicker of hope cut through the cold.
Their shadows were stiff as statues—but that wasn't surprising. Anyone in this kind of cold would move slow, locked up, frozen solid; seeing them like this meant nothing.
I stepped closer, leaving the corridor's edge for the wider room, my hand braced against the wall as each step felt heavier, muscles rigid and trembling from the cold. My voice broke as I called out again.
"P-please… I… I-I'm h-here..,"
I lifted my eyes and scanned forward—nothing. Just empty space and shadows stretching under the colored lights.
Then, to my right… I froze.
There were people. Maybe. But they weren't moving. Not really. They stood perfectly still, like they'd fallen asleep upright. A few twitched—just barely—but most… most were rigid, each body held upright by a single vertical bar, one arm draped over it, a leg hooked or crossed as they turned slowly in place, circling like some twisted merry-go-round.
A chill ran down my spine, and my skin prickled as an uneasy weight settled in my chest.
"H-H-Hello… I… I'm sorry to bother you, but… I… I don't know where I am. C-could someone… please help me?"
They just stood there, silent—almost as if they didn't care—still and lifeless, like toys abandoned mid-play. Too still. Too perfect. Still, I tried to ask for help. No—I begged.
I took a shaky step forward. "I-I… I w-was k-kidnapped… I… I think— I th-think s-s-something's wrong w-with me…"
They just stood there, ignoring me completely, as if my presence didn't matter. "P-p-please… s-someone… p-please… t-talk to me…"
Panic bubbled up inside me. Talking to them was like screaming into an empty room.
Then—
Their eyes began to blink, slowly tracking my movements. The cold, mechanical chant began:
"Welcome, master. Welcome, master. Welcome, master—"
The words looped endlessly, chilling and relentless. There was something deeply unnatural about them. It was the same chant I'd heard from the girl outside.
"P-p-please… h-help me… d-d-don't… d-don't ignore me… I-I-I'm f-f-freezing… p-please… d-don't let me d-d-die…"
Was this karma for leaving her behind? What was I supposed to do? She didn't get up, and I could barely lift myself… So why… why were they ignoring me?
All around me, the same cold chant echoed over and over, relentless and empty. "Welcome, master. Welcome, master. Welcome, master—"
"I-I… I'm… s-s-sorry… I c-couldn't… I w-wasn't strong enough…"
Somewhere behind it all, a techno remix crackled through busted speakers, twisting old tunes into something eerie and hollow. It sounded like affection being chewed alive by a machine.
I didn't know what this place was anymore.
In my friend's game, it had been lewd, not scary—bright lights, silly music, exaggerated dancers. This… this was nothing like that. Whatever it had been, it didn't feel alive anymore. Empty. Like something once meant to bring joy had been drained dry, worn down, and left to rot.
"I-I'm s-sorry… I'm sorry… I'm s-sorry…" I whispered to myself, voice barely audible. I was standing in the middle of it—bare, freezing, and more alone than I'd ever felt in my life.
"Welcome, master. Welcome, master. Welcome, master—"
"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry! P-please… s-stop! S-stop acting like I don't exist!"
Why are they staring… why won't they move…? I'm going to… I'm going to—
"W-welcome… m-master… W-w-welcome—"
I can't… I can't take it… the cold… it's everywhere… crushing me…
"Welcome, master. Welc- "
I felt it in my bones—there was no help here. My hope died a little more as I heard them. My body began to tremble uncontrollably, the shaking rippling through every fiber of me.
"Welcome, master. Welcone—"
"B‑be quiet!" I screamed, teeth chattering, voice breaking as the tremors racked me.
The pink buds on my chest had gone white and pale, hard and stinging in a way that cut through the numbness.
"Welcome, master. Welcome, master"
"Sh… sh-shut… u-up…! Sh-shut… up! SHUT UP!" I screamed even louder, my hands moving from hugging myself to clutching my barely-functioning head. My arms trembled as I flexed the little muscle this body had, before finally letting out a soft, defeated "oof…"
I hit the floor, dropping like a lifeless doll.
"I… I c-can't hold myself up anymore. It's… so damn cold. Cold, cold… s-so cold. I'm… I'm going to die."
The chant went on, but it felt like it was fading through me, like I couldn't even hear them anymore.
"M… m-maybe… maybe it'd be easier… if I j-just… s-stopped?" I whispered, breath fogging in the air, each word trembling, like I couldn't decide if I wanted to let the cold take me or fight.
The thought pressed down on me, quiet and heavy, curling around my limbs like frost.
Mom… Dad… their faces were already fading, melting into the frost.
The more I gave in, the less I could see them.
"J-just… lie still… and—"
And then—her face appeared. Clear. Bright. My sister. The one thing the frost hadn't stolen yet.
I remembered that day at the arcade, her voice ringing in my ears as I lost again to that stupid claw machine.
"Don't give up, Ponderu. If anyone can do it, it's you, Oni-chan."
She said it with that fierce confidence only she had—like she truly believed in me, even when I didn't.
And that night, I told her I'd be starting high school soon—that things were changing, that we wouldn't be in the same place anymore, pulling us forward whether we were ready or not.
She grabbed my arm, eyes wide, voice trembling as she begged, "Don't you dare leave me behind, Ponderu." She wanted to come with me. I wanted that too. But it was impossible.
Her words echoed inside me now, a lifeline in the freezing dark. I could almost feel her arms around me, warm against the cold. I held onto that—to her—to the fight still burning inside me.
"I won't let you fade," I choked out, clutching my head like I could force her image to stay. I clung to that in my mind, as if letting go would mean dying—because it did.
"I'll get b‑back… I swear…"
"Y‑your big brother is going to find you." The frost tightened around my skin, but I forced the words out, speaking them to keep myself tethered. "G-g-get the h-hell… u-up!" I screamed.
One of the last things she said to me, just before everything fell apart, was—
"You'll sing to me when you get back, right? Like you always do. Don't forget, Ponderu." Her voice feels like the only thing keeping me from slipping away.
"S-s-sister… I… I need to find her… I can't die here… not yet." My fingers shook so badly I could barely grip the floor. Every muscle screamed at me to stay down.
"G‑g‑get up… g‑get the h‑hell… u‑up! Now!" I screamed, forcing the words out, and slowly pushed myself to my feet.
Before I could even process it, the chanting stopped completely, and those things seemed to sag back into that same unnatural, sleeping stillness they'd been in earlier.
I wished they could help me, but talking to them would've been a waste of time.
I began to walk away from them, letting spikes of chills run up my spine, angling them toward my chest to try to jolt some warmth into my heart—like kickstarting an old, beat-up car. I didn't know if it would work… maybe it was silly—but I had to try.
All around me, neon signs blinked and buzzed in a dozen languages I couldn't read. They lit the walls with shifting colors—pink, blue, a harsh green—each one screaming some kind of promise. Love? Sex? A "firmware upgrade," whatever that meant.
Even with all the blinking lights, the place still felt dark.
I sucked in a shuddering breath, and a sharp scent cut through the numbness—burnt plastic, something hot… something maybe even warm. It hit me like a spark in the freezing dark, a flicker of life against the ice crawling over my skin.
My eyes flicked to the cluttered room beyond the glowing lights. The stale air smelled of sweat and hot rubber, thick enough to taste.
I had to reach the source of the smell.
My fingers brushed against the edge of a curtain. Cool and slightly sticky. I hesitated—just for a second—then pulled it aside.
The stench hit me like a wall. Sweat, oil, scorched porcelain—a rancid mix so thick I'd never choose to breathe it in. It was disgusting. Suffocating.
I hated it.
But I didn't back away. I'd bear it—if it meant even a shred of warmth.
But what I stepped into wasn't what I'd imagined.
I stumbled into a cramped backstage room piled high with junked bodies—most nude, some draped in torn fishnets, silicone limbs twisted unnaturally, eyes wide open but seeing nothing. The air reeked of old perfume, coolant leaks, and something burnt beneath the surface—like plastic left too close to a heater.
"W-what the… hell…?" I muttered, eyes scanning the pile. There was no blood, no signs of life… these had to be some kind of mannequins, or… something like that.
One lay slumped with its legs spread, a strange, blinking appendage jutting from its groin—hard and alien, pulsing faintly in the dim light.
But the air around them was warmer—thicker somehow, almost alive. That heat was pulling me in, drawing me closer, despite the unease twisting in my gut.
They weren't just cold, lifeless forms. They were radiating something—something I needed.
I couldn't turn away from them. It wasn't the warmth I wanted, not how I imagined it—but it was better than nothing.
I hovered near the heap of overheated bodies.
That faint heat stirred something deep inside me. though the cold still gnawed at my skin.
The air hung thick and heavy, laden with the sharp tang of burnt plastic and the sour bite of stale fragrances. Every inhale tasted metallic and wrong, burning my throat with its harsh sting. But I could almost cry from the feeling—so desperate, so raw—this fragile warmth that felt like a whisper of life in the frozen silence.
Hope, clawed its way into my mind, distracting me from the darkness creeping at the edges of my vision.
The silence around me was suffocating—broken only by the faint hum of dying circuits and the irregular crackle of overheated parts struggling to stay alive.
In this shattered, frozen place, it was the only thing that felt even vaguely like comfort. Not real comfort—not truly—but it kept the chill from sinking into me.
Goosebumps rose despite the heat. My teeth clenched, jaw tight, heart hammering in a frantic rhythm I barely recognized.
I was scared—deep down, truly scared of the bodies piled around me, of what they might mean, of the cold that still gnawed at my bones.
But my body was even more afraid, trembling like a child lost in a dark, empty mall.
Fear flooded my muscles, sharper and louder than the panic in my mind, warning me in a language I barely understood. But the warmth—faint, broken, and pulsing—was too powerful to turn away from. It held me there, trapped between horror and the desperate need to survive.