Don't let go!" the woman screamed.
Her voice sounded faint and distorted, as if it was being pulled away.
I didn't just hold on, I focused on it as if my life depended on it. I felt pain, but I kept pushing forward.
My vision blurred, but I ignored it. My only thought was my life.
The transition was violent.
One moment, my knees hit the hard floor; the next, my teeth nearly smashed.
After a few minutes, the chaos stopped, and the woman relaxed.
We ended up in a different room that looked frightening.
I couldn't move. I felt like vanishing from it all. If only I had superpowers, I would have fled for my life.
"Check his eyes," a male voice commanded.
I tried to turn my head to see who was speaking, but my vision was too unclear.
"If his eyes are gold, I won't hesitate to cut off his head," the voice said again.
Hearing this made me urinate in my trousers.
"Wait," the woman panted.
I heard her device hit the floor.
"He is blank. I saw the man try to scan his name," she said.
At this point, I stood frozen, confused. I just waited for the worst because I had already seen enough.
A hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head back.
I blinked, and my vision cleared.
I wasn't in my apartment anymore. I found myself in a large, round hall that resembled a mix of a church and a factory.
A massive man loomed above me, wearing a thick leather coat with silver plates for armor.
He held a broken sword that made a sharp sound as it moved.
"Your eyes are clear," the man said without lowering his sword.
His hands were bleeding from a cut.
I looked down and cried out.
My fingertips had changed. They no longer looked like human flesh. They were transparent, flickering like TV static.
I was disappearing.
"The room really took a bit out of him," the woman said as she moved closer.
She seemed younger now—maybe around 25.
With blue hair and tired eyes, she knelt beside me and placed a cold metal object on my chest.
"Don't move. Ethan, if you lose control, you will disappear."
"Where am I?" I managed to ask, my voice tiny like it was coming through a hollow pipe.
"My apartment... the city… where is everyone?"
"The city is where you left it," the woman replied, looking at her glowing device.
"But you're not in the city. You're in the Marrow. It is a space between reality and the thing pretending to be you, probably sitting on your couch looking for someone to murder."
I felt cold anger cut through my fear.
"That thing... it said it needed my name."
"Yeah," the huge man said, putting away his sword.
"Names are important. Without a name, the copy is just a shadow. But with your name, it becomes you. It takes your memories, your rights, and your soul. And you become the shadow."
Suddenly, the big hall began to shake, and a bell started ringing.
Its sound rattled my bones.
The huge man shouted, "They tracked us here!"
The woman swore while grabbing me and pulling me up.
I felt extremely light, as if I might float away.
"Can you run, Ethan?" she hissed.
"I… I think so," I muttered.
"Good! Because the room doesn't like people escaping. It's coming back for you."
The iron doors melted into black goo.
Faceless, frightening figures crawled out—they looked human but had no eyes or mouths. They were truly creepy.
"Don't let them touch you. If they do, they'll use your remains to fill their own empty spaces, and you'll be nothing—no soul, no spirit, no flesh, just dust that never existed."
The huge man pulled out old guns with glowing symbols.
Boom! Boom!
The shots blasted loudly, white fire shooting out and turning figures to ash.
But three more crawled in to replace every one that fell.
The woman yelled, gripping my hand tightly.
Her hold was the only thing keeping me from floating away.
"If we can get you to the Archive, we can save you from vanishing," she said.
We ran.
I struggled to move and was out of breath.
Behind us, the bell grew louder, and the "Unwritten" screamed like metal tearing apart.
As we crossed a narrow bridge over a pit full of endless gears, I glanced back.
One of the faceless things touched the giant man's armor, and the silver turned black instantly.
"Keep moving!" the woman shouted as she noticed I was growing weaker and slowing down.
We finally reached a smaller, strong door.
She pressed her hand against a glass panel, and the locks clicked shut.
We rushed inside just as a pale hand reached for the door's edge.
The woman shut the door quickly, severing the creature's fingers.
But they didn't bleed. They turned to gray dust instead.
Everything went quiet.
The silence felt heavy and thick.
I leaned against a wall lined with filing cabinets.
Thousands stretched into the darkness, but I didn't care. I just wanted to rest.
"Welcome to the Archive of the Forgotten," the woman said, sliding down to the floor.
She looked at me, and her face softened.
"I'm Mara. I'm sorry, Ethan. You're not normal anymore. Not after seeing that door. Now you're either a Hunter or prey."
Hearing this made me feel weaker, like a dead, forgotten man.
I was too weak to say anything.
I looked at my hands. They kept flickering. My skin felt like TV static.
"What now?" I whispered.
Mara opened a drawer and took out a heavy leather book.
My name, Ethan Thorne, was printed on the cover in gold letters.
"Now," she said, "we will see if you can still fight back."