The grinding groan of the colossal metal door was deafening, a sound of ancient machinery awakening from a long, tormented sleep. As it slowly, agonizingly, began to pull open, the faint green light from the corridor outside was swallowed by a deeper, more profound darkness within. It wasn't just the absence of light; it was an active void, a hungry, consuming blackness that seemed to draw all warmth and sound into itself.
Arjun felt himself being dragged forward, his feet scraping uselessly against the cold stone floor. The spectral forms, now distinct in their gauntness and the hollowed-out horror of their eyes, pressed in on him, their transparent hands passing through his body, each touch a draining, agonizing siphon. His strength was almost entirely gone, his vision flickering between the encroaching blackness and the horrifying faces of his silent tormentors. The pain in his arm was a distant echo, drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of being emptied, like sand pouring from an hourglass.
The gaunt creature, its back to him, stood silhouetted against the burgeoning void within the door. Its movements were fluid, almost graceful, as if it were a conductor guiding an unseen orchestra of suffering. As the door fully opened, it revealed not another corridor or room, but a vast, cavernous space that dropped away into absolute blackness. No floor was visible, only the terrifying descent into an unknown abyss.
From this chasm, a frigid, fetid wind roared, carrying with it a symphony of distant, tormented screams and a smell so profoundly sickening—of decay, ozone, and something uniquely putrid—that Arjun's mind recoiled. It was the scent of pure, distilled agony.
"Welcome… to the heart," the gaunt creature hissed, turning its head slightly, its featureless eyes seemingly fixed on Arjun. "The RedOne X… demands… all."
Arjun was pushed over the threshold, tumbling into the abyss. He gasped, a final, desperate attempt to fill his lungs before the fall. The spectral forms surrounded him, no longer just pulling, but propelling him downward, their collective energy a terrifying current in the air. He wasn't falling alone; he was falling with them, a part of their dark descent.
The fall felt infinite, yet it lasted only moments. He landed hard on something cold and pulsating, the impact jarring through his already weakened body. He lay gasping, his remaining senses overwhelmed by the new environment.
He was in a massive, circular chamber, far below the hospital's foundations. The air here was heavy, humid, and thrummed with a low, resonant vibration that seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. The light was dim, not the sickly green of before, but a faint, pulsing red, originating from intricate, vein-like structures that crisscrossed the walls and ceiling. They pulsed with a slow, rhythmic beat, like an enormous, dying heart.
In the very center of the chamber, directly below the opening through which he had fallen, stood a vast, complex apparatus. It was a terrifying fusion of rusted medical machinery, esoteric symbols glowing faintly, and organic, fleshy growths that pulsed in sync with the red light. Tubes, thick and dark, extended from it, snaking across the floor and up the walls, disappearing into the pulsating veins. And connected to many of these tubes were the translucent, skeletal forms of the patients, now seemingly fixed in place, their bodies contorted, their hollow eyes staring blankly. They were part of the machine. They were the machine.
This was the "Life Sustenance" promised by the RedOne Project. This was where the "harvest" occurred.
The gaunt creature stood beside the apparatus, its presence dominating the space. It raised one long, spindly arm, and beckoned. The spectral forms that had accompanied Arjun began to drift towards the central machine, dissolving into the pulsating veins, their faint whispers merging into the chamber's resonant hum.
Arjun felt himself being lifted, gently but inexorably. He was floating, drawn towards the central apparatus. He tried to fight, but his limbs were numb, his will fractured. He understood now. The doctor, Alok Sharma, had sought to sustain life, perhaps conquer death. But he had created something far more terrible. He had created a collector, and a system, to feed an ever-growing hunger. And now, Arjun was to be the newest addition.
He was lowered onto a cold, hard surface – a slab on the central apparatus, surrounded by the hollow-eyed specters. As his back touched the metal, he felt a sharp, intense pain erupt across his chest, as if countless needles were piercing him simultaneously. He arched his back, a silent scream tearing through his mind, as he felt new tubes, thick and cold, attach themselves to his skin, slowly burrowing in.
The gaunt creature leaned over him, its face inches from his, and for the first time, Arjun saw beyond its featureless exterior. Within the depths of its light-absorbing eyes, fleeting images flickered: faces of the lost, scenes of sterile rooms, and at the very core, a flicker of something human, something profoundly sad and trapped. It was Alok Sharma. The architect. The first, and now the primary, consumed.
"You… will… serve…" the Alok-creature rasped, its voice a dry, sorrowful echo. "As… we… served…"
Arjun felt his own light beginning to dim, his vision tunneling into nothing but the pulsing red of the chamber. The hum intensified, filling his head, and the countless spectral forms around him seemed to press in, whispering their hungry song. He was becoming one with them, one with the machine, one with the horrifying RedOne X. His last conscious thought was a desperate, silent plea into the encroaching darkness, a warning to anyone who might ever stumble upon the decaying tooth on the edge of Bengaluru: Don't come here. Don't wake them.
Then, only the hum remained. And the pulsing red light.