Zee's eyes fluttered open to darkness—*not* the peaceful kind, but the kind that presses on your chest like a weight. The air was damp, thick with the scent of burning wax and dust. Dim candlelight flickered from jagged stone walls, casting dancing shadows across what looked like an ancient, forgotten *cave*—an eerie ruin lost in time.
Her heartbeat stumbled. She recognized this place. Not from memory, but from something she'd read long ago—*"The hidden cave holds memories tied to Zeal. Some are truths. Others… are curses."*
Her hand darted into her pocket. And there it was—the small, worn book she had hidden for this moment, waiting for the right time to reveal its secrets. Her fingers barely grazed the cover when a sound made her freeze.
A growl. Hollow. Low. Inhuman.
She turned—and saw it.
A figure, if it could even be called that, moved through the cave like mist. It had *no face*, only a shifting void where features should be. Its body slithered forward in jerks, not walking—*gliding*, like a nightmare dragged from the cracks of hell.
Zee ducked behind a jagged rock, breath caught in her throat, trembling. *What is that thing?*
But her terror had only just begun.
Beneath her feet, she felt *movement*—a slow shifting, like something buried alive was crawling toward the surface. She gasped, but before the scream could leave her lips, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind.
She froze.
The creature paused.
It had heard the sound.
Slowly, it turned—though it had no eyes, Zee could feel its *awareness* slicing through the dark like blades. Then it grinned—its mouth splitting impossibly wide—and let out a shrill, *maniacal laugh*, high-pitched and broken like a hyena possessed by demons.
Zee squeezed her eyes shut.
*She was not alone in the cave.*
And whatever else was here…
The creature's laugh echoed through the cavern like a broken record—shrill, chaotic, and inhuman. It leaped, then landed silently above them, crouched like a *hovering spirit*, watching with eyes they couldn't see—but *felt*—burning into their skin.
Zee remained frozen, the rough hand still clamped over her mouth. Her lungs burned. The silence stretched. The thing didn't move. Just *watched*.
Then, after what felt like forever, the hand released her.
She spun around.
*Max.*
But he looked barely human—disheveled, pale, eyes wide with something between fear and madness, like he had just clawed his way out of the grave.
Zee slumped against the rock, her legs shaking. She could finally breathe, but the air in the cave was so thick it felt like *inhaling dread*.
"Where are we? Where are the others?" Max whispered, his voice hoarse, darting his eyes around the cave.
"I don't know," Zee replied, her voice trembling. "I'm just as confused as you."
Then—
*That laugh again.*
But this time, it was closer. Above them.
The sound scraped through the silence like metal on bone.
Slowly—hesitantly—they tilted their heads upward.
There it was.
The creature, standing *right above them*, motionless, its form still shifting like mist. That *grin* stretched unnaturally across its faceless head, and its presence felt wrong—like reality was bending just to allow it to exist.
Zee screamed.
Max didn't wait.
He yanked her hand, and they bolted—feet slapping against the cold stone floor, hearts hammering like war drums.
But behind them… nothing.
No footsteps. No screech. No pursuit.
Just silence.
Zee dared to glance back.
The creature hadn't followed.
Instead, it hovered in place, then *drifted*—not walked—toward the opposite end of the cavern. Toward what looked like an *exit*.
But something about its movement made her stomach twist. It wasn't just floating...
*It was waiting.*
Luring.
Like a predator that didn't need to chase—because it had already laid the trap.
The creature floated silently toward the direction of the exit—not chasing, not even acknowledging their terrified escape—as though it already knew where they'd end up.
It didn't want them dead.
*Not yet.*
It wanted to play.
Like a cat toying with its prey, it drifted, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment.
*"What fun is there in killing them now?"* The words echoed, not aloud, but within the cold walls of the cave—like a memory, or a whisper stitched into the stone itself.
*"As it always says… why end the game before it begins?"*
It would give them the biggest prank of their lives—one they'd *never forget*.
One that might very well be *their last*.
Then, the air trembled.
A low, hollow growl seeped out from the darkness, growing and curling through the cavern like smoke.
And finally—
*The laugh.*
That same manic, spine-chilling laugh of a *possessed hyena*—deranged and wild, echoing in every direction, as if the walls themselves had gone mad.