After school the dismissal bell echoed like a warning siren instead of freedom. Zyla stepped out into the cold afternoon air, still shaken from what happened in the bathroom. The world felt too sharp, too loud… like something underneath it was waking up.
"Zyyylaaa!" a tiny voice cried.
Her little sister, Mila, sprinted across the courtyard, practically tripping over her backpack. She crashed into Zyla's waist, arms squeezing tight.
"Are you okay?" Zyla asked, brushing hair out of her face.
Mila didn't answer at first—she just pointed back toward the school's doors. Students were gathered around every hallway screen, faces pale, voices trembling.
"It's… it's gone," Mila whispered. "The whole town. It just… fell."
Zyla's stomach dropped.
Kenna came running, out of breath, eyes wide. "Zyla—Zyla, did you see? It's all over the news. The town— the whole town —just sank. Like the earth swallowed it."
People around them were crying, calling family, shaking.
"What if it was here?" Mila whispered, voice cracking. "What if it picks another town next?"
Zyla wrapped an arm around her. "Hey… hey, I've got you. We're fine. We're right here."
But she didn't believe her own words.
Kenna looked stunned, staring at the screen through the window. "That place had Famous Amy's…" she muttered. "Their banana bread… and the popcorn balls…" Her voice wavered. "I always bought them with my mom…"
Zyla swallowed hard.
Behind them, the boys approached quietly. Keuirseu's face was pale, Benjamin looked shaken, Cyrus wasn't flirting for once, and Constant's expression had hardened—jaw tight, eyes calculating.
They exchanged one silent look.
They knew exactly what caused the sinkhole.
And they knew exactly who they were here for.
Zyla felt the back of her neck prickle.
Something inside her pulsed… almost answering the fear rippling through the crowd.
She stepped closer to her sister, protectively.
And all four boys watched her—uneasy, tense, and suddenly very, very aware:
This was only the beginning.
Dinner felt like a blur. Zyla barely tasted the food, barely heard her parents talking about "staying safe" and "not going anywhere tonight." Her mind kept circling back to the endless drop where an entire town used to be.
So when Kenna tapped on her window at 9:57 PM with a flashlight and a smirk, Zyla didn't hesitate.
"Come on," Kenna whispered. "We're going."
Zyla grabbed her hoodie, slipped out, and the two of them jogged down the street to meet their friends. The music was already thumping in Caleb's beat-up silver car when they climbed in.
"Road trip to the edge of the world," Caleb said, speeding off.
They left their small town behind, the headlights cutting through the darkness. Zyla kept glancing back at the disappearing glow—porch lights, street lamps, houses fading into nothing.
Until the night was pitch black behind them.
No lights.
No safety.
Just cold air and the sense of something watching.
Kenna noticed her staring out the window. "You good?"
"Yeah," Zyla lied. "Just… feels weird."
Around her, the others passed drinks around and lit cigarettes. The smell of smoke filled the car, but Zyla held her window halfway down, letting the winter wind sting her face.
She didn't drink.
She didn't smoke.
Not tonight. Not ever.
As they got closer, the sky changed—pale flashes of light flickered in the distance.
"Whoa," Caleb murmured. "You seeing that?"
Zyla leaned forward. It looked like the horizon was pulsing.
Then the road dipped, curving toward the police barriers that no longer stood. They were knocked down, trampled by a flood of teenagers who clearly had the Josephe idea.
Music blasted everywhere.
Candles lined makeshift paths toward the edge.
A huge bonfire roared, sending sparks into the sky.
Dozens—maybe hundreds—of teens had gathered around the monstrous sinkhole, drinking, yelling, taking pictures, crying, daring each other to go closer.
Zyla stepped out of the car and felt the wind shift.
The sinkhole wasn't just a hole.
It was breathing.
A low, slow inhale…
then a deep exhale of cold air that made the hairs on her arms rise.
Kenna grabbed her hand. "This is insane. Look how big it is."
Zyla swallowed. "I… I don't think we should be this close."
But her feet carried her forward anyway, drawn by something ancient and familiar buried in the darkness below.
A pulse.
A whisper.
A memory she shouldn't have.
Zyla stepped closer to the edge, drawn forward by a pressure in her chest—a strange heaviness, like someone pushing on her heart from the inside.
The bonfire behind her crackled. Kids laughed, shouted, took photos.
But the sinkhole…
It whispered.
A low sound rose from it—too quiet for anyone else to notice. Almost like a heartbeat buried miles below.
thump…
...thump…
Zyla froze.
Kenna nudged her. "Zyla? You okay?"
But Zyla didn't answer. Her eyes were locked on the swirling darkness inside the crater. The air around the hole shimmered slightly, almost like heatwaves—except it was freezing.
Then—
The ground beneath her foot trembled.
Just a soft vibration…
directly under her.
The candles scattered around the edge flickered wildly, their flames bending toward her as if pulled by gravity.
Zyla inhaled sharply.
Kenna whispered, "Um… why are the candles doing that?"
Before Zyla could step back, a burst of icy wind shot upward from the sinkhole, spiraling around her. Candles blew out. Teens screamed, stumbling away. The bonfire sputtered and dimmed as if something was trying to steal the flames.
Then—
A voice echoed up from the darkness.
Soft.
Childlike.
Calling her name.
"…Zyla…"
Her blood turned to ice.
She stumbled back, clutching her chest as her heartbeat synced with the one rising from the sinkhole.
thump
thump
thump-thump-thump
The air rippled. A faint glow rose from the depths—dark gold, swirling like liquid fire. Shadows coiled around the light, reaching upward.
Kenna grabbed her shoulders. "Zyla! Zyla, look at me! Zyla!"
But Zyla couldn't look away.
Her eyes were locked on the glowing darkness below.
And then—
The sinkhole breathed again.
A massive exhale of freezing air blasted outward, knocking dozens of teens to the ground. Zyla staggered backward, nearly falling—until someone grabbed her wrist.
Keuirseu.
His face pale, eyes wide.
"What did you do?" he whispered.
Zyla could only shake her head.
Because she felt it.
Whatever called her… whatever whispered… whatever recognized her—
It wasn't done.
Something ancient had awakened.
And it knew her name.
Screams rippled through the crowd as teens from every nearby town backed away from the sinkhole, stumbling over each other to escape. Flashlights shook. Phones dropped. Someone cried. Someone prayed.
But Zyla didn't move.
Something inside her pulled her forward.
She dropped to her knees at the edge, peering into the darkness.
Far below…
a light glowed.
Warm. Golden. Flickering like a small sun buried miles deep.
Her breath caught.
"Someone could still be alive," she whispered.
Kenna, shaky but loyal, knelt beside her. "Zyla—don't. Don't go near it—"
Zyla leaned just a little closer.
And then she felt it.
A hot breath.
Slow. Heavy. Wet.
Her eyes widened.
The air warped. The ground trembled.
A deep growl rolled up from the abyss—
And then—
TWO GIANT HANDS
slammed against the inner walls of the sinkhole.
The earth cracked violently, splitting in spiderweb patterns across the surface. The shaking knocked cars sideways, swallowing one whole as the ground collapsed beneath it.
People screamed, sprinting in all directions.
Kenna grabbed Zyla's wrist. "Zyla—RUN—"
Zyla scrambled back to her feet just as the creature pulled itself upward, emerging from the depths with the sound of bone grinding against stone.
The demon's head rose first—massive, horned, dripping with molten shadow.
Its eyes—crimson and ancient—locked on Zyla like it had been searching for her this whole time.
Its shoulders heaved up next. Huge. Muscular. Skin like tar mixed with fire.
When it roared, the entire world seemed to shake.
Zyla screamed.
Kenna yanked her hand, pulling her so hard she nearly fell.
They ran.
Through mud, through chaos, through the fleeing swarm of terrified teens.
Behind them—
the demon climbed free of the pit, shadows bursting off its body like smoke. Each step cracked the pavement. Streetlights flickered and died. The bonfire blew out.
And in the distance, three silhouettes—Keuirseu, Constant, and Benjamin—stood frozen, staring at the demon in horror.
Cyrus swore under his breath.
"Dyren…" he whispered. "He came faster than we thought."
But Zyla didn't hear them.
She only heard the thunder of the demon's footsteps as it dragged itself fully into the world…
and roared her name.
The earth shudders beneath Zyla's feet.
The demon's massive fingers—each one longer than her arm—curl over the jagged rim of the sinkhole. Steam erupts from between its claws as it drags itself upward, each movement cracking the ground like breaking bone.
Teens scream, scattering in every direction. Cars sink sideways as the ground crumbles. Kenna yanks Zyla's hand hard—
"Zyla, RUN!"
But Zyla's eyes lock on the light inside the pit…the Josephe soft glow that had drawn her here.
That impossible light that only she seemed able to see.
For a split second, she hesitates.
Hot breath blasts across her face—like the exhale of a furnace.
The demon rises high enough for its head to clear the surface, molten cracks glowing across its face. Its eyes find her instantly…as if she were the only person standing there.
Zyla's voice tears from her throat—
"KENNA—GO!"
They run.
The ground buckles behind them, asphalt splitting like paper.
The demon roars—so loud it shakes dust from the leaves—its hand slamming down where Zyla had been seconds earlier. The shockwave sends teens falling, candles flying, the bonfire whipping sideways in a burst of sparks.
Kenna doesn't let go of her—
but Zyla still hears it.
A voice beneath the roar.
A voice inside the roar.
"Found you…"