Aarav sat on the floor, his chest rising and falling fast. The room was silent. Too silent. But inside his head… the whispers didn't stop.
"…we are here…"
"…you let us in…"
"…you are ours now…"
He pressed his palms against his ears, but it didn't matter. The voices were under his skin, crawling through his veins, moving with his heartbeat.
"No… no, get out," Aarav whispered. His voice cracked.
The mirror shards scattered on the floor trembled, shaking slightly. He froze. One by one, they began to move, pulling together. Slowly, they formed a broken, jagged circle.
A faint glow came from the glass, and in it—he saw himself.
But it wasn't him.
The reflection inside the shards looked older. Tired. Hollow-eyed. And it was smiling.
"Who are you?" Aarav whispered.
The reflection moved its lips, speaking words that made his blood run cold:
"I am what you'll become."
Before he could react, a sharp ringing filled his ears. His vision flickered. The walls stretched, bending like liquid. The floor rippled under his hands. He stumbled back, but the room itself was changing around him—melting, twisting.
He blinked, and suddenly, he wasn't in his room anymore.
He was standing in a long, endless hallway. The walls were black, wet, pulsing like they were alive. Shadows ran along them like veins.
Aarav's heart pounded. He turned, but there was no door behind him. Only darkness stretching forever.
The whispers followed. Louder. Clearer.
"…Walk…"
"…The Abyss is waiting…"
"…Find the door… or be devoured…"
He took a step forward. The floor beneath him groaned, like bones snapping. The shadows on the walls shifted, forming faces that screamed without sound.
A chill ran through him as he realized—this wasn't just in his mind.
The Abyss had pulled him inside.
And somewhere in the endless hallway, something was waiting.