Boy paused for a moment in the chill of the chapel, trying to steady his breath. Every part of his body seemed to remember the coldness of this place, as if the past haunting the chapel still surrounded him. He stood there for a while, staring into the darkness, and the silence seeped into his soul, settling like a delicate yet unsettling veil. A cold breeze brushed his face, reminding him that he had to move on. He hadn’t come here to run from what lurked in this village—on the contrary, something within him longed to confront the mystery that wrapped around this place like a spider’s web.
As he left the chapel, he slowly pushed his way through the thickening fog, swirling around him like a living creature. Each step echoed hollowly, and the silence seemed to swallow the sounds, trapping them in a dead abyss. The paths leading to the village center were overgrown, covered in moss and vines that enveloped everything that once belonged to humans. Buildings that once pulsed with life now looked like abandoned shells of dead creatures.
With each moment, he felt he was getting closer to something significant. The fog grew denser, his steps became more cautious, and his senses sharpened to their limits. Shadowy shapes swirled around him, creating an illusion of movement—as if the spirits of the former villagers were still present, hidden in every shadow, every creak of the ruined houses. The thought crossed his mind that one wrong step could make him a part of this place—and it seemed to be waiting for just that.
Finally, he reached the central square of the village, dominated by a solitary, ruined well. It stood like a silent witness to a past tragedy, whose echoes still lingered within the walls of this place. The stones were thick with moss, and the edges crumbled under the weight of time and nature. Even though the well was old and abandoned, he sensed that something slumbered within it—something that had been waiting for him for a long time.
His heart quickened as he stepped closer. He expected to see a dark bottom, maybe dried leaves or remnants of former life. But instead, he saw only a bottomless, black abyss. This was not ordinary darkness—it had a depth that seemed to swallow all light and bore into his soul. In this impenetrable space, he felt that something lurked just beneath the surface—something that not only observed him but waited for his next move.
He stared into the void as an increasing sense of unease wrapped around him like an invisible net. He wanted to pull back, but some force held him in place. Then he saw movement—a subtle, almost imperceptible tremor in the darkness. He focused, searching for something tangible, and then he saw them.
Eyes. Two eyes glimmered from within the well, cold, alien, filled with hatred. Their gaze pierced through him as if they could reach the deepest corners of his soul. He felt that these eyes belonged to something beyond human understanding, something that had survived and would survive any attempt to comprehend it.
Terrified, he took a step back, feeling fear tighten around his chest. The eyes still stared at him, and the chill penetrated him to the bone, paralyzing every muscle. Finally, driven by survival instinct, he retreated further until he tripped over a stone and fell onto the cold, damp ground. He looked up at the well—and to his horror, saw something beginning to rise from it.
Thick, black smoke, like tar, crawled out of the well. It moved like a living organism, twisting and rippling as if it had a consciousness of its own. He felt panic overtaking him as the smoke started gliding toward him, forming shadowy tendrils that seemed to track him.
In a surge of desperation, despite his trembling legs, he stood and began to run. Only one thought echoed in his mind—he had to escape. Each step reverberated through the empty streets, and the smoke relentlessly pursued him, drawing closer, as if it never intended to let him go.
With blurred vision, he spotted a ruined forge. Without hesitation, he ran inside, hoping the thick walls would hold back the smoke, even if only for a moment. His breath was shallow, his heart pounding in his chest as he leaned against a cold, metal beam, trying to regain some semblance of control.
The forge offered no sense of safety. In the dim light, he noticed scattered tools and the broken remnants of a furnace. The air was thick with the smell of rust and smoke, as if the echo of bygone days when work thrived here still held dominion. Yet he knew he couldn’t stay here long—the darkness wasn’t relenting.
With trembling hands, he reached for the magical hilt, which responded almost immediately to his touch. The blade glowed with a pale blue light, slicing through the forge’s dimness. The glow illuminated the dusty walls, casting shadows over the scattered tools and highlighting shapes that seemed to shift in time with his quickened breath.
In the darkness, something rustled—a dull sound seemed to come from beyond the wall. He turned sharply but saw nothing. The smoke still slithered through the cracks in the walls, its tendrils creeping inside, drawing closer as if carrying an inevitable fate.
Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him.
"Didn't I tell you to run?"
He spun around to find a familiar figure—the woman he had met earlier. Her eyes glimmered, and she held a small, gleaming object in her hand. The smile on her face was a mix of mockery and resignation.
"Now we'll both die because of your foolishness," she said coolly and tossed the object toward the shadow. Light exploded in the air, repelling the smoke, as if forcing it back for a moment. The space briefly brightened, dispersing the darkness that began to retreat.
Boy looked at her with a mix of gratitude and reproach.
"I thought you’d left me," he gasped.
She shrugged, her gaze filled with cold indifference.
"I warned you, and you didn’t listen. Now we both have to get out of here before it’s too late."
Their eyes met in silent understanding. They had to work together if they wanted to survive. She gestured towards the exit, and he followed her, stepping quietly and cautiously. As they neared the doorway, he felt the darkness gathering around them again, closing off every escape route.
His heart pounded wildly, but he knew he had no choice. Now, faced with the impenetrable gloom, they were not just victims—they were witnesses, forced to fight to survive and uncover the truth.
In the forge, a stifling silence fell, thick and overpowering, and each step seemed to vanish into the darkness that consumed everything around. At one point, he even stopped hearing his own breath—as if the darkness had engulfed all sound, creating a prison from which there was no escape.
Suddenly, from the depths of the darkness, a whisper arose—quiet yet commanding, pinning him in place.
"Stop..."
The word was like a command, and his body froze. A cold shiver ran through him, bringing with it doubt as to whether everything he was doing made any sense. A fleeting image appeared in his mind—a memory of deep, mysterious eyes. A face surfaced in his thoughts—familiar, warm, but now distorted by shadows, filled with their cold touch.
"She is but a shadow..."
The whisper filled the air, mocking and icy, piercing him like a shadow. It carried a certainty that lodged in his heart like a thorn, evoking unimaginable fear. He tried to recall her image in his memory, but the shadows stretched, taking on a familiar shape.
In the dim light, a slender silhouette loomed before him, her long, dark hair blending into the darkness. Her eyes—two black abysses, empty, devoid of life—stared at him without expression.
"Do you want to save her...?" a sneering voice echoed, as if the shadow knew something he did not yet understand. "Or perhaps she already belongs to us..."
Every memory, every image in his mind now seemed to fracture, as if his thoughts were drenched in darkness, convincing him that what he saw was real.
The whisper filled the silence once more, ominous and cold.
"She will not return..."
With each passing moment, he felt the darkness tighten around him, as if invisible hands were trying to consume him.
The darkness rippled around them, closing in as if impatient with their resistance. Each movement of the tendrils was like a silent hiss, a blade scraping across stone, penetrating deep into his thoughts and filling the space with a cold, inevitable reminder of impending doom. The air was thick with the scent of dampness and rotting leaves, and though the walls of the forge were solid, they seemed to shrink under the relentless pressure of the encroaching gloom. He felt as if the darkness around them was alive, that every part of it was aware of their presence, hungry, waiting for that single misstep.
The woman standing beside him looked at him with a shadow in her eyes, a mix of fear and desperation. Her silence was heavy, filled with unspoken words and accusations. She seemed like one of the specters drifting around them, a shadow of the past that had materialized for a moment to warn him of the inevitable. He could only guess what she was thinking—or perhaps she herself wasn’t sure if they would ever find a way out of this situation.
Without a word, he raised the hilt, pointing the blade toward the advancing darkness. His hands shook, his heart pounded wildly, but in this moment, there was no turning back. He knew that every word, every gesture from this entity attempting to manipulate him had to be ignored. He couldn’t afford even a moment of hesitation. Trapped in this cursed place, he had to fight, even if the battle was doomed from the start.
The smoky mist began to close in, forming a ring around them, as if intending to trap them in an inescapable snare. But then, a voice echoed in his mind—a quiet, deep sound, like the scream of someone imprisoned in a void. This voice didn’t come from the woman beside him, nor from the darkness itself. It was the sound of his own thoughts, torn by fear but also by a newfound strength he hadn’t felt before.
"I can’t..." he whispered to himself, though he felt as if every particle of this place could hear his doubts. "I can’t let it end like this..."
He looked at the woman, her face shrouded in shadows, her eyes burning with determination, as if this place terrified her too, but she had no intention of letting their fear win. Her gaze, though devoid of tenderness, carried something unexpected—a strength he had yet to discover within himself. Without a word, she stepped closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, as if ready to share his fate, whatever it might be.
Suddenly, they heard soft footsteps behind them, almost imperceptible, as if someone were treading on shadows. For a moment, they both froze, listening to that ominous sound that seemed to emanate from all sides. Then silence fell again, but the tension in the air remained. The darkness slowly crept closer, their shadows lengthening and trembling, as if wanting to flee from this place. He took a step forward, and the woman followed, both of them searching for anything that could give them an advantage.
The mist thickened, along with the sensation of being watched by something far older and more powerful than anything they had encountered before. When their gazes met, they knew that time was their worst enemy, that the darkness was merely waiting for a moment of weakness. But he had no intention of giving up—not when he felt so close to something that might unlock the mystery of this place.
"Time is running out," a menacing voice whispered, as if rising from the abyss. The sound had no specific source, but it filled their ears, piercing their souls, driving in like a blade straight to the heart.
He felt a cold shiver run through him. For a moment, he thought that the reality around him was beginning to change, to blur, as if it were just a feverish dream. The walls of the forge vanished into the dense fog, and new images emerged around them—terrifying visions of ruins, shadows crawling over destroyed walls, faces of former inhabitants, their terrified gazes as they looked upon their homes for the last time.
He closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts, not to let himself be consumed by the nightmare unfolding before him. For a moment, a familiar face appeared in his mind—the memory of someone close, once a source of calm. It was something the darkness could not take from him.
"I hear your thoughts," the voice resonated in his mind, gentle yet filled with an unrelenting menace. "Do you really think that one memory will save you from me?"
His heart hammered like a drum, but he didn’t answer. He couldn’t let the darkness know his weaknesses. He had to fight, he had to find a way to break free from its grip, but every step he took seemed to lead him closer to an inevitable end.
The woman beside him suddenly raised her hand, pointing to something in the distance, though the mist obscured it from their view. He swallowed, trying to control his rising terror, but in her gaze, he saw something unexpected—a quiet certainty, as if she could see an escape he had yet to discern.
"If we go further..." she whispered, her voice carrying a trace of hope, the very thing boy so desperately needed. "We have to trust what we see, even if it's just an illusion."
He nodded silently, gripping the hilt tighter, its faint, pale glow cutting through the darkness but only a few steps ahead. Each step was a test of courage, a challenge that seemed to measure how much more they could endure.
The silence around them was ominous, thick, saturated with the threat of something unknown. At last, deep in the darkness, he felt the ground beneath him begin to shift. He could feel damp leaves underfoot, rotting remnants of the old village. This place was like a nightmarish version of what he had first seen, now deformed by the darkness that fed on his fear.
The woman, noticing his hesitation, gave him a light tug, grounding him in reality. Her gesture was clear—they had to keep moving until they found answers. Every step, every moment was now a test of endurance, a confrontation with the shadow that crept into their minds, trying to fracture them.
Then, a shadow appeared ahead—a shape resembling a human silhouette, but distorted, as if drawn from the very essence of darkness. Its body was blurred, restless, as if formed from misty substance. Two eyes glinted in the dim light, cold, empty, and devoid of any soul.
He felt her hand tighten on his shoulder. The woman stood beside him, her gaze filled with determination but also with a hidden fear. There was no time to question who or what this being was. It was something that had come for them—something that couldn’t exist without their fear, their doubt.
"Go... further..." the shadow whispered, its voice like an echo in the void, shapeless, devoid of warmth. "Deeper into the unknown..."
In the darkness surrounding them, boy and the woman stood still, both acutely aware that their presence here wasn’t so much a challenge to the darkness as an offering that the darkness accepted without a hint of interest. Nothing they did mattered—the darkness had always been here and would remain, regardless of their presence, decisions, or will to survive. It had no need to chase or taunt them. It knew that their own fear and uncertainty would eventually destroy them.
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He felt it in every cell of his body, as if the space around him had thickened, pressing between his bones and muscles, filling each breath with a coldness that refused to relent. Every thought he tried to form disappeared, dissolved in the misty vapors wrapping around them like a spider’s web. He sensed that this place was a living, insatiable entity, patiently waiting for them to make a mistake that would amuse it.
The woman standing beside him seemed equally composed, though her gaze fixed on the darkness ahead revealed something more—a spark of defiance, almost anger, that had no chance to manifest. She, too, understood that this darkness didn’t need them, that it wasn’t here to play or fight with them. They had crossed a boundary they shouldn’t have even approached in a dream, and now they were merely witnesses to what lurked beyond human understanding.
The silence around them was overwhelming, deep and relentless, as if the air itself absorbed every sound, every attempt to move or rustle of clothing. He tried to steady his breathing, but he felt that the more he focused, the less he could feel his connection to reality. Everything around seemed to shift, transform, as if this place had its own pulse, slowly synchronizing with his breath, with each heartbeat, until it was hard to tell whether he was still breathing on his own or if this place was feeding on his very existence.
Suddenly, he noticed something ahead—a faint movement in the darkness, barely perceptible. As he squinted, the shape gained a bit more clarity, though it remained hazy, as if woven from darkness itself. It was a silhouette, too tall and unnaturally gaunt, with proportions that seemed strangely distorted. As the figure moved closer, a cold shiver ran down his spine—what he saw did not resemble a human but rather something that was trying to imitate one, yet without any knowledge of the fundamental principles of human form.
There was no sound, no sign that this entity, whatever it was, even breathed or moved. It simply stood there, watching him with an empty gaze that he couldn’t see, but he felt its weight upon him. For a moment, he thought he heard a faint whisper cutting through the silence, though it was more sensed in his mind than actually heard. It felt as if the darkness itself was speaking, that this place was aware of their presence and silently conveyed its one simple message: there was nowhere left for them to escape.
Beside him, the woman stood motionless, her face expressing cautious, almost stoic control over her emotions, though he sensed that she too understood what was unfolding around them. Her hand clenched slightly on the hilt hidden under her cloak, but she made no move—there was no point. His own hands trembled, but he tried to steady them, though the sight of that figure, still motionless and almost blending with the shadows, filled him with the sense that his body might betray him when the moment of reckoning came.
And then, without any warning, the figure in the darkness raised its hand, making a slow, almost ceremonial gesture. Its fingers were long and gaunt, resembling skeletal branches reaching toward them, as if inviting them forward. A cold sweat trickled down his back, and his heart, which had been beating steadily, suddenly raced, forcing him to momentarily hold his breath.
Although he knew it was only a shadow, that there was nothing tangible here, he felt his legs instinctively trying to retreat. It was irrational, there was no real reason for it, but he knew that if he took even one step back, the darkness would immediately reach out for him. The woman’s presence beside him was the only thing stopping him from completely succumbing to the overpowering urge to flee.
The silence around them deepened, filling the space with an icy void that seemed to swallow even the faintest sound of their breath. Each second stretched into an eternity, and the darkness around them grew more intense, more suffocating. The shadows began to pulse, as if the whole place was alive, pulling them deeper into its impenetrable abyss.
The figure before them, though still unmoving, seemed to draw closer, its shape becoming more distinct, each shiver in the darkness an echo of something far more powerful. It was a presence they couldn’t ignore—a silent witness to their presence, silently reminding them that they were here at its mercy.
The woman straightened, raising her chin slightly, as if seeking even a shred of control over the situation, though she knew that in this place, every such action was futile. Her gaze swept over the surrounding shadows, as if searching for something he couldn’t see—perhaps a sign, or maybe a last, faint hope for escape.
Then, a voice broke the silence—soft but clear, filled with indifference and a chill that made every sound tremble like a taut string.
"You are just like the others," the voice spoke, as if from afar, though it sounded right by their ears. "Everyone who comes here thinks they have a choice… that they can resist the inevitable."
He didn’t respond, his heart pounding faster with each word that shattered his thoughts like a hammer. He felt that these words were part of something larger, but he couldn’t grasp their meaning. He only knew they were true, though he didn’t want to admit it.
The woman, though silent, glared into the darkness with anger, almost defiantly, as if her gaze alone could change anything. In response, the voice seemed to deepen, transforming into an even more menacing echo that vibrated in the air, passing through their bodies and minds.
"This place was not created to understand you, nor to judge you," the voice continued, its tones gaining strength. "You are here but for a moment… a drop in an endless river that always flows in the same direction."
He felt the weight of these words settling on him like a cruel curse, as if his entire existence here was nothing more than a plaything for this place, something of no consequence beyond a fleeting satisfaction for the eternal darkness. He tried to find some explanation within himself, anything that might help him understand why he was here, but every memory seemed to slip from his mind, like it was being swept away by the current of a river that followed its own unchangeable course.
The figure in the darkness fell silent, but boy knew that no more words were necessary. Every step they took, every breath they drew in this place, was sensed by the darkness, which watched them with a quiet satisfaction. The woman beside him seemed to read his thoughts, for she looked at him with something that could almost be called sympathy. There was a resilience in her, but she also knew that their presence here was an illusion of control, a shadow of hope that had no right to exist.
At last, without movement or a single word, their shadows began to shift. Every line, every contour of their silhouettes blurred, as if the darkness itself was seeping into them, stripping them of the last remnants of their individuality.
He stood, immobilized, feeling the darkness seep into every part of his body and soul. It was an unyielding presence that stole away every hope he had, though it couldn’t take them fully—still, against all reason, somewhere deep inside, he felt he had to fight, if only to keep from being wholly consumed. Yet this struggle was more exhausting than any he had ever known.
Beside him, the woman held an expression of focus that bordered on helpless anger. Her eyes, hard and unyielding, were fixed on him, as if trying to communicate her will to survive. She was like a fragment of reality in a place that held no mercy for them. Her presence was like an anchor—a reminder of his existence, even as the surrounding darkness tried to erase every trace of them.
Suddenly, the silence around them shifted. In the space between them and the shadows came a sound, low and resonant, as if the darkness itself released a murmur, displeased with their defiance. It sounded like a distant echo of a voice that once belonged to something alive, now only a hollow, soulless emanation. He felt his heart racing, each pulse of blood pounding in his temples, filling him with the overwhelming sense that something irreversible was approaching. Something that knew neither mercy nor time.
The shadows around them began to pulse, moving in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic beat that seemed to merge with their breathing. Every silhouette shifted in silence, its contours trembling and blurring, as if they couldn’t maintain their shape. They were part of the darkness, an inseparable element that couldn’t exist on its own. They were like echoes of a past that was never meant to fade, and yet had no right to exist.
Boy raised his hand, trying to say something, to make even the faintest whisper, but his voice failed him. He felt that every sound he attempted to make was swallowed by the darkness around them, as if words were erased before they ever left his lips. Even so, he looked at the woman, seeking answers, support, though he knew she, too, felt equally helpless.
She, however, possessed something he was losing with each passing moment—a defiance that showed in her every movement, in the gaze she cast upon the shadows. She was like something alive among the dead, the last fragment of light in a place that sought to snuff it out. He sensed that her presence was the only thing keeping him from surrendering completely to the darkness, that without her, his soul would already have been swallowed by this bottomless abyss.
The shadows took another step closer, and the darkness around them thickened, forming almost tangible walls that pressed in around their bodies. He felt every inch of his skin begin to tremble under the weight of this overpowering, suffocating presence. This place was like a living prison, methodically squeezing the life out of them, needing neither tools nor force to do so. Every breath, every heartbeat became a near-physical effort, as if mere existence in this space demanded more from them than they could bear.
The woman looked at him with an unreadable expression, her gaze severe, yet it carried something that resembled the last traces of hope. Her eyes held no fear, but rather a shadow of understanding—as if she knew that their presence here was but a fleeting episode in something much larger, something that didn’t need their consent to exist. Boy, though he didn’t fully comprehend, felt that her gaze gave him the strength to endure for just a little longer.
Suddenly, a shape emerged from the depths of the darkness, darker and more solid than the other shadows. It was a figure, tall and shapeless, radiating an absolute indifference. It resembled the silhouette of a human, yet distorted, as if viewed through water or through the prism of a dream. Its presence was paralyzing, and he felt every part of his body freeze in the face of this being. He couldn’t tell what it was—whether it was an illusion or something real—but he knew that this was an entity that had known of their presence from the very beginning.
The silence around them grew denser still, as if every word was stifled before it had a chance to form. Boy stared at the figure, his eyes wide, struggling to believe that something like this could exist. It was neither a ghost nor a spirit, but something deeper, something that was part of the darkness itself. There was an emptiness within it, a nothingness that had always existed, devouring everything that dared to come close.
The woman raised her hand, as if to reach for a weapon, though she knew it was futile. Her movements, however, were filled with determination, as if she understood that the only way to survive was through unrelenting defiance, even in the face of something that knew no mercy. He felt her presence bolster his courage, though it was a kind of courage rooted not in reason but in sheer survival instinct.
The figure in the darkness began to move, its contours trembling as though it were made of pure shadow, ready to spill over them like an impenetrable fog. Each of its steps was silent, yet seemed to echo within their minds, as if this place reverberated with their thoughts, sending them back in the form of a soft, elusive whisper.
At last, the figure stopped just before them, and the darkness gathered around it, casting a grotesque shadow that appeared to have a life of its own. It stared at them without moving, though he knew there were no eyes—only a bottomless void that seemed to swallow every particle of light, as if its very presence was enough to extinguish everything around it.
Then they heard the voice—a quiet, deep sound, soaked in a coldness that knew neither compassion nor understanding. It sounded like an echo, passing through their minds, reverberating in their thoughts like a sinister reminder of their helplessness.
"You have crossed a boundary that is not yours," the voice spoke, filling their bodies with an icy chill, each word like a shard of ice piercing to the bone. "You are here because your presence is but a moment in eternity… a mere spark that will extinguish before you understand why."
He felt his body begin to tremble under the weight of these words, each sound resonating within him, reminding him of his frailty. He knew they were only a fleeting presence here, that everything they had thought about their journey was insignificant against the force surrounding them.
The woman beside him raised her gaze, her eyes filled with determination, though he could see a shadow of uncertainty, something that told him she, too, was beginning to realize that their presence here was pointless. Yet they endured—they continued to stand, ready to survive, if only for a moment longer, willing to defy this endless darkness.
The figure in the shadows remained motionless, its presence like a shadow with neither beginning nor end, as if it were part of the very space enveloping them. The voice sounded again, this time filled with a strange, terrifying power, like the sound of breaking stone.
"Nothing you do matters," the voice intoned, each word echoing in their minds. "You are only a moment, a single breath… nothing more."
Boy felt that every fragment of his thoughts was being absorbed by this darkness, his awareness beginning to blur, as if he were nothing but a shadow in this boundless space. He didn’t know how much longer he could last, but he knew one thing—he had to endure, even if only for this single, brief moment before the darkness claimed them.
Beside him, the woman stood unwavering, her gaze fixed upon the figure, as if she sought to convey everything within her—her entire will and resolve. She was like the last shard of light, refusing to yield, though she knew there was no chance left.
The darkness stood before them in absolute stillness, its silhouette surrounded by pulsing blackness that seemed to dissolve, merging with the surrounding gloom, like a living, boundless shadow. It was as if they were staring at something that didn’t belong to this world, yet stood right before them—inevitable, compelling, and terrifying. It filled the space around them like a vast ocean, drowning their will. At the center of this blackness lay something beyond he’s comprehension—a void that consumed every breath, every sound, leaving them alone with an eternal silence.
Boy felt his body weakening under the weight of this presence. It was not just physical exhaustion; it was something deeper, as if the very foundation of his existence was crumbling under the oppressive force of the Darkness. Each breath felt like his last, as if the Darkness was slowly sapping him of all strength and will to fight. Beside him, the woman stood straight, her eyes steely with determination, though he could see a faint shadow of resignation. They both knew that resisting what surrounded them was futile. The Darkness didn’t need brute force to defeat them—its presence alone, eternal and absolute, was a threat they could not counter.
Finally, the silence was broken by a voice—calm, hauntingly quiet, yet undeniable. It was a whisper that pierced every layer of their thoughts, echoing in the depths of their minds, each word a fragment of an ancient truth they had no right to understand.
"You are here because you were foolish enough," the Darkness spoke, its voice filled with contempt and icy confidence. "You, small, helpless beings, who think you can survive in a place ruled only by me."
A chill of fear ran down the young man’s spine. Each word from the Darkness invaded his mind, leaving him feeling ever more powerless against its omnipotence. It was a feeling of complete, inescapable helplessness. Every instinct told him to run, but he knew there was nowhere to go—it was already too late.
The woman lifted her gaze, her eyes hard and determined, though he noticed a hint of anger she couldn’t suppress. She looked at the Darkness defiantly, as if her gaze alone could reach to the core of this formless entity.
"You think you can break us? That anything you do will make us surrender?" she threw back, her voice, though soft, tearing through the silence like a blade, a final act of defiance against something that knew no mercy.
The Darkness reacted instantly, as if her words were a blasphemy it could not bear. The shadows around her shuddered, and tendrils of darkness shot out, wrapping around her tightly, mercilessly. Her body stiffened as the Darkness enveloped her like a net, slowly paralyzing her every movement. Her eyes still blazed with anger, but it was the last spark she could show—the Darkness had in an instant robbed her of control over her own body. She could only watch as boy stood in utter terror.
Seeing the woman paralyzed, trapped in the grasp of dark forces, sent a shiver of pure, primal fear through boy. His heart raced, and every impulse, every thought, told him to act, but his legs felt like lead, and his body refused to obey. Every spark of courage within him was snuffed out under the weight of the Darkness’s presence.
The voice of the Darkness, deep and dripping with mockery, filled the space around them.
"Look upon her helplessness, boy," it said, its words piercing his mind like poison, slowly contaminating every fragment of his thoughts. "This is your fate. Do you see? This awaits all who dare defy me."
He felt the weight of the words bearing down on him, his knees beginning to buckle. The voice of the Darkness was like a blade driven straight into his soul, overpowering and merciless. He looked at the woman, now just a shadow of her former self, and knew that they stood no chance—they couldn’t survive in the face of such power.
The Darkness continued, its voice deepening, full of triumph, and its words cut through the air like a cold blade.
"I have chosen you, boy. I know what you hide in your heart, what you are willing to sacrifice. But now you must make a choice."
He looked at its silhouette, its eyes black as the abyss, empty, devoid of even a hint of compassion.
"I have an offer for you," the Darkness said, its voice like a whisper pouring into his every thought, its words like a poison slowly paralyzing his mind. "Surrender, relinquish your will, and I promise that neither you nor she will know pain. You can live—if only you cease to fight."
He looked at the woman, her gaze full of courage, yet also of unspoken fear. He knew that their lives now hung on a single decision he had to make alone.
The voice of the Darkness filled his mind once again, interrupting any attempt at resistance.
"Your freedom means nothing to me. One word is all I need, and I will spare you both," it said, its words like an incantation sinking into his mind like a dagger. "You can die, become nothing, or gain a new life, boy. The choice is simple."
Each word of the Darkness echoed in his mind, reverberating off the walls of his soul. He looked at the woman, immobilized and helpless, and felt his courage beginning to fracture under the weight of the moment. He saw the Darkness looming over him, its merciless gaze seeming to pierce him through.
"Say ‘yes,’ boy," the Darkness whispered, its voice both a promise and a curse. "Say ‘yes,’ and I will grant you life, without pain, without suffering… all it takes is one word."
He closed his eyes, feeling the Darkness draw even closer, its words seeping into his thoughts, eroding the last remnants of his resistance. He knew there was no turning back. He took a deep breath, his heartbeat slowing, preparing for the inevitable.
He opened his mouth, ready to utter the word that would seal his fate forever.
"I agree," he said quietly, his voice echoing in the surrounding void like a seal pressed upon eternity.