Ethan's head throbbed as he struggled to his feet. The alley he had fallen through—the one he had walked countless times—was gone. In its place stretched a street that shouldn't exist: cracked cobblestones, abandoned buildings, and a faint mist curling at ground level. The air was thick, cold, and tasted faintly metallic.
Shadows moved along the walls, darker than the fog around them. They weren't just shapes—they seemed to breathe, twisting toward him, whispering just beyond comprehension.
Ethan's heart pounded. Okay, stay calm. Just a dream… or some kind of hallucination…
A shadow detached itself from the nearest wall, elongating like a black ribbon toward him. Ethan stumbled back.
"Ethan… scared… afraid…"
The voice was low, almost sibilant, but he could feel it inside his head. It knows my name…
He shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "Wh-who's there?" he stammered.
The shadow swirled, forming a vague humanoid shape. Its "face" was a blur, but its presence made Ethan's chest tighten. It hovered just beyond reach, observing, testing.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him shifted. Pavement turned into jagged stone, cobblestones rising and falling like waves. Ethan stumbled, grabbed a streetlamp—or at least what looked like one—but it crumbled in his hands like dry wood.
The shadow whispered again, this time faster:
"Fear… secrets… choose… survive…"
Ethan realized he was being tested. Every step he took seemed to be measured, every thought probed. Panic clawed at him, but he forced himself to breathe.
Okay. Think. Logic works in real life. Maybe it works here too.
He noticed a faint light ahead—a doorway, partly hidden in mist. Without thinking, he ran toward it. The shadows hesitated, then swirled to block him. Panic surged, but a flicker of determination ignited.
Ethan's voice rang out: "I… I won't let you control me!"
The shadows recoiled slightly, as if surprised by his defiance. The whispers slowed, almost contemplative. Ethan felt his heart settle a little.
Through the doorway, he saw a dimly lit corridor. The air smelled of old paper and damp stone. Faint inscriptions ran along the walls, glowing faintly in a sickly green hue. The shadows stayed behind for now, murmuring:
"This is only the beginning…"
Ethan swallowed hard. He didn't understand the rules, the world, or the shadows—but one thing was clear: he couldn't run. Not yet.