The night felt heavier than usual. Ezra could hear the city's pulse—the faint growl of engines, the occasional clatter of a trash can, laughter spilling from a bar half a block away—but here, in this alley, everything narrowed. Each sound was swallowed by silence, leaving only his heartbeat to fill the void.
The words from the note burned in his mind: Follow the fear.
Kai walked ahead with the easy confidence of someone who already knew where this path led. Jace trailed behind, his cigarette glowing like a lazy firefly, the occasional puff of smoke curling up into the black sky.
Ezra lagged, every step sinking deeper into dread. He hated that Kai had this effect on him—not just fear, but a kind of gravity that made his lungs tight and his thoughts scatter.
"Why here?" Ezra asked, finally breaking the silence as they turned down another street, narrower, dirtier.
"Because fear lives in places people avoid," Kai said without looking back. His tone was even, but it carried weight. "This city's full of doors no one wants to open. Tonight, you're opening one."
Jace smirked, flicking ash onto the ground. "Don't piss yourself, newbie. We've all had to do it."
Ezra stopped walking for a beat. His skin prickled. "Do what?"
Kai slowed, finally turning to face him. His expression was calm, but his eyes were searching. Studying. "Step into the thing that owns you. Stand in front of it and see if it breaks you, or if you break it."
The answer didn't help. If anything, it made Ezra's stomach knot harder.
They stopped in front of a building that looked abandoned. The brick was cracked, graffiti scrawled across the lower walls, windows boarded except for a single one left open just enough to suggest neglect. The front door hung crooked on rusted hinges.
Kai gestured toward it. "Inside."
Ezra's mouth went dry. "What's in there?"
Kai didn't answer.
But Jace did, his grin sharp. "Rumor says it used to be a holding den. For people who owed the wrong debts. Some say you can still hear them screaming when it's quiet enough." He leaned close, his voice dropping to a whisper meant for Ezra alone. "But hey, it's probably just rats."
Ezra hated the way his body responded—the involuntary chill running down his arms, the way his gut twisted like Jace's words had hooked into him. He wanted to call bullshit, but one look at Kai told him this wasn't a joke.
Kai handed him a flashlight. Not a weapon, not protection—just a single weak beam.
"Go," Kai said.
For a moment, Ezra didn't move. His heart told him to run, to get as far from that doorway as possible. But his pride… his pride was louder.
Because if he turned back now, Jace would never let him live it down. And Kai—Kai would see him as weak. Disposable.
So Ezra swallowed the bile in his throat, took the flashlight, and stepped inside.
The air hit him first. Stale. Damp. It smelled of mildew, rust, and something faintly metallic. The kind of smell that made your tongue itch.
The beam of the flashlight jittered as his hand shook. It cut across broken furniture, scattered bottles, a collapsed beam in the far corner.
The floor creaked under his weight, and every sound felt amplified in the suffocating silence.
He forced himself to keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Follow the fear.
The first room was empty, but the second…
Ezra froze.
Scratched into the wall, faint but visible in the weak light, were marks. Long, frantic scrapes running in jagged lines, clustered around the corner of the room. Like fingernails dragging until they broke.
Ezra's chest tightened. He didn't want to imagine what those walls had witnessed.
Behind him, the door groaned, and for one horrifying second he thought it was closing on its own. His body spun, flashlight trembling, but the door hung open, still crooked.
He exhaled shakily. It's fine. You're fine.
But the silence wasn't empty anymore. It pressed against him, thick, like something unseen was waiting.
Outside, Kai leaned against the wall of the building, arms crossed. He could hear Ezra's footsteps echo faintly from within. Jace looked restless, pacing a few steps back and forth.
"You think he'll crack?" Jace asked, flicking away his cigarette.
Kai didn't look at him. His gaze stayed fixed on the doorway. "That's what we're here to find out."
Jace smirked. "I bet he runs out screaming in five minutes."
Kai's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.
Ezra's flashlight beam caught something in the far corner of the third room—a chair. Not unusual in itself, except it was bolted to the floor. The leather straps on the armrests were worn, torn in some places, but still unmistakably restraints.
Ezra's breath caught. His skin prickled cold.
His fear wasn't irrational anymore. This place wasn't just rumors.
Something had happened here.
He moved closer, each step reluctant, until he stood in front of the chair. He imagined someone bound to it, screaming, clawing the walls with their free hand until their nails split. He imagined the silence after, the kind that clung to these rooms like smoke.
Ezra reached out, his fingertips brushing the cold metal frame.
A sound behind him made him whip around.
The beam of the flashlight cut across shadows—nothing there. Just a broken table, debris, dust.
But the sound had been real. A shuffle. A breath.
"Hello?" His voice cracked despite his effort to steady it.
The silence answered.
Ezra forced himself to stand taller. "I'm not afraid of you."
The words rang hollow. But saying them out loud felt necessary, like planting a flag in enemy soil.
He lifted the flashlight, sweeping it across the room one more time, then turned back to the chair. His chest was still tight, but something shifted inside him. The fear was still there—but so was defiance.
If Kai wanted to test whether he could stand in front of the thing that broke people, then Ezra was going to stand here until his legs gave out.
He pressed his palm flat against the chair, the cold biting into his skin, and whispered, "You don't own me."
Outside, the minutes stretched.
Jace finally broke the silence with a scoff. "He's taking his sweet time. Think he fainted?"
Kai didn't answer. But his lips twitched, just slightly, as if amused—or impressed.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, Ezra stepped out of the doorway.
His face was pale, his jaw tight, but his stride was steady. He handed Kai the flashlight without a word.
Kai studied him for a long moment, eyes unreadable. Then, finally, he nodded once. Approval.
Ezra didn't say it out loud, but he felt it—he'd passed.
Jace's smirk faltered. For once, he didn't have a ready insult.
And that, more than anything, made Ezra feel like he'd won.
But deep inside, he knew the fear hadn't ended. He'd followed it, yes, but the path wasn't over. He could still feel it gnawing at the edges of him, waiting.
And something told him Kai wasn't done opening doors.