The subway tunnels were suffocating, the air thick with dampness and decay. Faint graffiti glowed under the flickering lights.
"We have to move quickly," the guide said. "It learns. It adapts. Stay close."
Shapes moved in the shadows—elongated limbs, faces twisted into impossible grins. Amara's heart raced as whispers echoed through the tunnels.
Suddenly, a wall of shadow surged forward. The faceless passenger.
"Run!" the guide shouted.
Amara sprinted, twisting through the tunnels. Every step felt wrong—hallways lengthened, ceilings stretched impossibly high. Reality itself seemed to warp.
A hidden grate in the wall slid open, revealing a narrow shaft.
"Go! Now!" the guide shouted.
Amara scrambled inside, darkness swallowing her. The shadow lunged—but the shaft was too small. She felt the weight of terror pressing against her back as she climbed, scraping her hands and knees.
When she emerged, it was a rooftop, overlooking the city. The streets were eerily quiet.
"Almost… free," the guide said, eyes scanning the streets below.
Amara's phone buzzed again. She checked. A new message:
"You can't run forever."
Her blood ran cold. The city itself seemed to bend and shift.