The author narrates.
Vikram adjusted his cap backward and leaped off the sidewalk, skating toward the corner as if the pavement were an algorithm-blessed ice rink. From the outside, he looked like just another influencer kid, the kind who wins hearts with a smile and a quick joke. But inside, his adrenaline rush wasn't coming from skating—it was from something darker.
His channel, Vikramsex12, had started as a rebellious comedy: mall pranks, absurd challenges, the occasional topless act if the audience requested it. But lately... the comments started to change.
—"That's it? I thought you were crazier."
—"Your content is boring, bro. Give it something strong."
—"I hope you record something real one day."
The words tasted like a knife: Vikram, the master of the show, now felt like his own sad clown. And today, as if the algorithm were a cruel god, he decided to risk it all. He heard rumors—an abandoned town, foggy streets, apparitions, trials… Silent Hill. It couldn't be that serious, right? He who doesn't take risks doesn't go viral.
And there he was:
In front of his camera, with an urban backdrop, dirty lighting, and his cap askew. The live stream began, and thousands tuned in.
Vikram: "How are you, my friends? Welcome, princesses. Here's your favorite content creator... Vikramsex12, so you don't forget me," he smiled, sticking out his tongue mischievously.
He raised his arms and showed off his biceps for the camera, a dedication to the girls.
Vikram: Today I'm not here with supermarket pranks or challenges with soda and baking soda. Today I'm here to explore something real, something that will blow your minds... so hold on, because we're going live into the forbidden.
As Vikram continued broadcasting live, the fog seemed to grow as if it were hungry. It wasn't just a mist anymore... it was almost liquid, sticky, with that scent of rust and silence that seeps into your clothes. The streets were losing their shape. The shadows seemed to move. But he, in his glorious stubbornness, kept recording.
Vikram (frowning, shaking his phone irritably):
Damn... he snorted, running the back of his hand over his forehead, which was no longer sweating from heat but from tension.
His eyes squinted, trying to distinguish something through the fog that now licked at the traffic lights. The sound of its wheels on the pavement was no longer clear... almost as if the echo swallowed the noise.
The cell phone vibrated nonstop. Comments like bullets:
"Hey, what are you doing there!!!"
"Get out of there!"
"You might fall into the witch's temptation..."
Vikram read one, two, twenty… then sighed.
He wrinkles his lips in disdain, scratching the back of his neck.
The witch? —he thought— Is it viral marketing or just plain crazy?
He looked straight into the camera again, raising his eyebrows like in his classic videos. But this time there was something new in his expression… not mockery, not mischief, but a strange mix of nervousness and defiance.
In a lower voice, speaking directly to the audience's digital heart:
Vikram: What was it...? It wasn't what some of you wanted, was it? For me to go into a cursed place, to do something 'real'... Well, I'm here now. I'm not coming back.
He lowers his gaze, his fingers digging into the pockets of his worn pants. He takes out some coins. Nothing more.
Vikram: Besides... I don't have much money to go back anymore... I just have to wait, friends.
He smiles with feigned sadness, but his eyes betray him: he's beginning to understand that the rules of the game have changed.
The fog had barely eased, as if the town wanted to grant Vikram a respite... one he hadn't asked for. The pavement crunched under his worn sneakers, while his athletic silhouette stood out among the remains of rusted poles and extinguished streetlights. He walked with the confidence that comes with clicks, a chiseled physique, and a false sense of control.
Vikram strode forward, cell phone in hand, framing every corner that might earn him likes.
Vikram: "Wow, this is going straight for Insta," he murmured in his deep, mocking voice, striking a pose with a crooked half-smile as he raised the phone.
Click.
The screen trembled. A brief flash. A digital error, as if something was breathing inside the device.
Vikram: "How strange..." he murmured, frowning.
His finger ran over the lens as if it could cleanse it of curses.
In front of him, the church rose with baroque cruelty. The doors were broken, the windows barred. There was no music, but the air seemed to carry a chorus that no longer had a voice.
Vikram took a step closer, wanting to get closer... when a voice took his breath away.
An old woman in the distance, blown by the wind.
Old Woman: You shouldn't be here...
Her voice didn't sound human. It was deep, but dry, as if coming from a throat made of ash. Vikram squinted, and barely made out a hunched figure in the fog, standing between two fallen columns. Her hair seemed to float, like threads torn from an old doll.
With a sarcastic tone, he raised an eyebrow and raised his voice slightly.
Vikram: "What's up, Grandma... Do you know where the other people are? I just find the place very lonely, and th—"
The old woman interrupted him, not moving an inch.
Old Woman: "You must leave here... before the full curse falls on you."
Vikram took a step back. He swallowed.
Vikram: "What are you talking about?" he said, but this time his voice sounded less brave.
The cell phone vibrated once more.
A comment appeared.
—"She's not real."
The old woman took a step forward. Her eyes shone like dead moons.
And the air grew heavy, as if the town were beginning to exhale something… something that had been waiting for Vikram long before he knew it was coming.
The fog still reigned.
The old woman's eyes were fixed on Vikram, as if she'd already seen too much in them. He, unable to resist his impulse, raised his cell phone in front of her and turned it, allowing her to see the broadcast.
Vikram: "I came here to gain more fame in the world," he said with a satisfied smile. On the screen, the hearts, the reactions, the millions of viewers kept moving.
The old woman was slow to speak. Not out of doubt, but out of pain.
Old Woman: "Fame... uh... Then you did wrong to come in here," she whispered. Her voice seemed to drag on for centuries.
Vikram was about to answer, with a question about the most famous part of the place, so he could have a souvenir or a photo for Instagram, but a bell interrupted him. It rang high above the church.
Heavy. Dry. Deep.
The sound shook the ground beneath his feet.
The old woman turned her eyes to the sky.
Old Woman: Darkness is approaching…
Then something strange happened. The fog began to dissipate, but not like smoke: it cracked like glass. Fragments of the surroundings seemed to vanish, and not just the fog… but parts of the landscape itself. The streetlights, the ground, the facades: everything began to disintegrate as if reality itself were losing its texture.
Old Woman: You'd better take cover, added the old woman, without moving.
A chill ran through Vikram like a wet snake down his spine.
He didn't understand anything. He only knew that everything was wrong.
Without thinking, he ran away from the church.
The transmission was still on, but it began to fail. The signal became erratic. And the messages, once festive, began to become disturbing:
—"What's that behind you?"
—RUN, THE DARKNESS WILL CATCH YOU!!!
—"You're not alone anymore..."
—"We're watching you from somewhere else."
As he ran, Vikram saw the trees lose their shape, the shadows stretch to cover entire sections of the ground, as if the darkness were hungry.
The chimes continued, each one deeper than the last.
And just before everything disappeared completely… he found an entrance.
An abandoned building. Covered in soot and old moss.
He didn't think twice. He walked in.
First contact with silence.
Inside, the air had a different density. There was no sound. No echo. Only his breathing. The walls were covered with symbols that looked like they were burned into plaster.
______________________________________
Author:
VIKRAM'S STORY AND STORY ARE FINALLY AVAILABLE IN ENGLISH!!!
I loved the happy endings (◠‿◕).
Don't worry, Vikram will be fine... 😏Don't worry about him.
This time I decided to publish the chapters much earlier, since I wanted to share my story with you before I changed my mind.
If you liked it, then leave a like, comment, and follow me for more.
Chao! Chao! See you later. Bye! 😎