A quick glance told him his vigil was nowhere near being done. The digital block's red block letters screamed 2:33 AM and it felt that they were as loud as the heat best monitor chirping by his side. The murmur of the night wafted through the sterilized air and was sucked in by the heavy curtain blocking people looking in.

Jason growled at himself for the war of his emotions. On one hand he knew he was doing the right thing staying with Nanette but his other side wanted to just go home and sleep. he had already lost two days of work and though the warehouse was fine with his medical emergency, he felt like he should have been there.

When the curtain was shoved back, Jason jumped. The willowy night nurse glided into the room with the unnatural chipper attitude for the hour.

“How are you doing, Mister White? anything I can get you?”

“I'm fine. Thanks.”

His tone was rough but before he could apologize, she continued her merry way. She took readings, fluffed the pillow and his then wished them all a safe evening as she glided back out.

Jason glanced at the angry clock. 2:35 AM.

Damn!

He could only take the quiet and the returning nurse a few more times before he had to get out of there. His legs ached and groaned, complaining about the inactivity and the horrible hard chairs.

An air conditioner rumbled to life dumping cold air on his t shirt and slacks.

I've got to take a walk.

Standing and mumbling a halfhearted excuse to his girlfriend who wasn’t even awake, Jason quickly left and entered the sterile, bland hallway.

The man looked both directions and was met with the same empty hallways with generic abstract paintings sparsely populating the walls. the smell of antiseptic and paint hung like a faint odor that was almost too difficult to detect.

I need a snack. I think I saw vending machines when we came in.

As he walked down the hall, it seemed his footsteps were rebounding off the walls in thunderous claps. Some of the sound waves made him wince in pain. A patient in one of the dark rooms moaned and for a second Jason thought he was responsible. It felt like forever before he got to the elevator.

Pushing the button a few times to make sure it was moving, he waited till the loud ding peeled through the hallway. Jason hopped in before anyone had a chance to look at him.

The ride down was slow and agonizing with the incessant droning of orchestra music and thrumming of the machine as it descended. The stained chrome doors finally opened letting him into the lobby.

For the most part, the lobby was empty with only a bored girl at the receiving station and a couple talking to each other in whispers while dressed in their PJs. The sneezing fit told Jason that it was the flu, and he should stay away.

The vending machine in all its neon glory was hidden around the corner and almost blinded the him as he came to it. Jason winced as he tried to make out the bottled liquid in bright colorful wrapping. The snack machine beside it was deafening with the choices available.

Can't anything be simple?

Swiping the credit card and grumbling about the loss of two bucks, Jason retrieved his 'Happy Cocoa bar' made with real chocolate and meandered back toward the elevator.

The wait for the elevator to return was excruciating but it finally arrived with an even louder ding. For the next minute, Jason fought with the wrapper and did not bother to look up when the elevator opened. He started walking finally giving in and ripping at it with his teeth.

It was the stench of death and decay that made him look up not to mention the agonizing scream that echoed down the now dirty and soiled walls of a hospital floor.

“What the hell!”

It was the grinding sound of the sliding doors closing that sent a trill of fear through his heart. Jason turned in time to see the last sliver of light vanish as the rust covered elevator door cramped shut.

Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit!

Dropping the remains of his snack on the ground, Jason ran up to the door and pushed the button to call the elevator back. It got stuck in with all the dirt and grime and did not even light up. He gripped the dark sliver and heaved. He had to get out. The doors groaned but did not budge. After a few other unsuccessful attempts, he backed up and examined the impediment to his escape. It was like any other door he had seen except for the dark rust splattered along the front of it. He leaned closer, sniffing at the scent of iron and decay that wafted back. Was...was that blood?

Jason stepped back from the door with his heart pounding heavily in his chest. The lungs could not inflate quick enough to give him the air he needed. His throat gagged at the foul odor of rot and excrement that wafted around him. The confusion gripped his mind with questions of how and why he had gotten onto this floor or why this floor existed.

Forcing himself to calm his breathing, Jason closed his eyes and focused on the slow movements of his lungs fighting the Adrenalin urge to run any way he could. His heart rate began to descend into something comfortable and he focused on his other senses, trying to get a read on the world around him. His nose was still filled with the smell of sweet death and acrid decay while his ears picked up the smallest sounds of movement right out of reach. A few times, Jason thought he heard a moan or someone crying.

The warehouse worker opened his eyes slowly and began to slowly turn and get his bearings. The corridor he stood in was pretty much the same as the rest of the hospital except it looked as if the cleaning crew had never bothered to visit it. The linoleum was cracked and soiled while along the base boards, dirt hung in clumps where sickly looking plants were battling for survival. Spaced down the hallway past the closed doors were uncovered light bulbs that swayed minutely from non-existent wind. Jason gritted his teeth as they flickered. Near the end of the hallway the bulbs were burnt out and he could not make out the far end. About eight feet ahead, a empty nurse's station sat covered with papers and junk as if abandoned in haste.

This place is like something out of a frickin' horror movie, but those were not real, they could not be.

Jason White gritted his teeth and took a step forward toward the station. It seemed the only likely place that he could get some information. Each step seemed to echo throughout the corridor and the air around him seemed to protest his presence. Chills continued to run down through his body and spine like static electricity being constantly applied. Though he could not see anything, Jason knew that someone—or something was watching him.

Peering around the corner to see if anyone was hiding there, he saw the cubicle for where the on-call nurse would have sat but it was empty and the door to the break room was closed. Jason gingerly stepped out of the hallway and into the nurses' station. He attempted to brush off the chair that was covered in dust and mold, but it did not seem to help. The springs groaned in agony as he tried to sit down wincing as they complained.

The desk had what he expected, a computer which did not work no matter how many times he pressed the on-power button, and the papers were scattered all over the place. He grabbed a clip board and began to flip through the pages. Jason's heart began to beat faster as he focused on the words:

“It never ends. The suffering never ends. He was about exacting the most exquisite torture. He can see into your soul, your fear and exact vengeance for what you have done. Oh, God I can still hear the screams of those who I harmed. Their screams of vengeance just a little way from my ear. Oh, God in heaven, I can hear him coming down the hallway, the air is so oppressive, he cannot get me again but there is no way to die. The agony is—–”

The words ended with an uncomfortable dark stain that splattered the pages. Jason tossed it down on the table, his hands shaking. Where the hell was he?

A cold tingle flickered through his skin as Jason heard the door behind him click closed and a cold hand press on to his shoulder.

Terror sang through Jason's soul as the cold skin pressed against his neck sending shivers of horror through him. It took every bit of strength to pull himself out of the chair and paralysis and spin on his attacker. Instead of the ghoul his subconscious was expected, his eyes met the kind brown pair of a woman. She wore the outfit of a nurse though it seemed to be of an era from long ago. Her skin was slightly sallow and her hair silken but dry. It was the faint glow of blue light around her that sent his heart back into overdrive.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” her voice came to him melodic but off key like a CD player running out of batteries. “You're...you're real.”

That wasn't comforting.

“Yeah, I'm real. You're not.”

She shook her head in a slow, confused way. “No, I... I don't think so. I... I struggle to remember things in...in this place. I think I was real a long time ago.”

“Where the hell am I?”

“Hell...I think.”

Hell? In a way, that made sense. The dried blood, the sounds, the strange writings but that was all he had things he had felt and scene.

“You're...you're not dead.” the woman said reaching up to touch him again, but Jason recoiled. She quickly withdrew her hand in embarrassment.

“No, I'm not. I was at the hospital with my girlfriend, got a snack, and wound up in Hell. You know how to get out of here?”

Jason looked at her and she had a faraway look in her eyes.

Great, she's checked out.

He waved his hand in front of her face a few times, but she did not move or blink. She was a statue for all he knew.

“Forget it,” he muttered to himself and quickly left her standing in the nurse's station. There had to be a way out of this place. There was no way that this was Hell. He went up to the first door and peered in. He started at the face frozen in horror staring back at him. The man was curled up in a ball on an operating table that seemed to slowly list under the slightest movement. It almost appeared to be close to collapse. Jason's eyes were drawn to the floor where he realized it was moving. Millions of spiders moved about near the man as if waiting for him to fall in.

“That man tortured his patients about their phobias and made light of them,” the woman's voice spoke right be Jason's ear. He squeaked in fright as she seemed to appear right beside him.

“Don't do that!”

She did not seem to respond, she just continued to look through the window at the man trapped inside. “He felt that phobias and mental disorders were hoaxes that people used for excuses. Some of his patients took their lives and they were all his fault. The spiders enjoy people like this.”

Jason pressed his lips together and stepped away from the woman that slowly turned her hollow gaze on him. He bumped up against another door which elicited a muffled, shrill, scream that echoed down the halls. Jason spun around and stared at the two women hanging from nooses around their neck. They gagged and kicked spinning in slow circles trying to die.

“The sisters killed their patients they felt weren’t worth the time to heal. He especially hates those people.”

“Who’s he?” Jason asked but he was pretty sure he didn't want to know.

“He is the Doctor.”

“The...doctor.”

She motioned around her in the hellish world he found himself in. “This is his world. The world that punishes caretakers who swore and oath and violated it. He is the avenging angel for the voices that cried for help and were not heard. He is the Doctor.”

“So not a time traveler. Got it.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Carefully, Jason returned to the center of the corridor and looked both from the elevator to the black end he could not see. He quickly looked away as the darkness seemed to be staring back.

“So... what’s your name?”

“I was Martha.”

“Well, Martha. Do you know how I can get out of here? I'm not a caretaker or a doctor. I'm a forklift driver, so this isn't supposed to be my hell.”

“There's no way out.”

Shit.

Jason's brain went into a fog trying to comprehend what he had been told. He had stepped into some sort of hell and just tried to comprehend there was a hell.

“There has to be a way out. I'm not a provider. I don't even work in the medical field!”

Martha's face didn't even change, and a thought crossed his mind.

“What...what did you do?”

“I don't know.”

Of course.

The hair in the back of his neck stood sending chills through him. The overwhelming sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach, and the shadowy corridor seemed to grow darker. Jason looked at Martha and her large brown eyes had grown wide with fear.

“He's coming. The doctor is coming. You must hide!”

Jason looked about frantically as the buzzing and numbness in his skull got stronger. He struggled to stay on his feet and would have collapsed on the corridor floor if Martha's cold hands didn't grab him by the shirt and drag him bodily to behind the nurse’s station. She put her body close to his to shield him. the icy clothing and skin feeling like a Popsicle pressed against flesh. The faint smell of detergent and moss hung around her.

“Do not move,” she hissed.

Jason didn't think he could even if he wanted to. The sickening feeling had overwhelmed him, and his head hung limp to the side. only his senses continued to work.

It was the slow, methodical clump of feet walking heavily on the floor with raspy breathing like a smoker trying to catch his breath. Martha pressed in closer trying to shield him.

“I... know he...is here. I will...find him.”

The gagging, struggling words escaped the necrotic beast that moved unseen on the other side of the nurse’s station. Jason heard its claws clicking against the top and from the corner of his eye, he could make the skinless hand gripping the edge as if to pull itself over.

Something made a loud clang down the hall and the hand stopped. It quickly withdrew and moved away. Martha began to release her grip on him and seemed to be more at ease.

“He has a hatred for humans in their mortal forms. The doctor sees you only as a bundle of vices that must be purged.”

“Oh, I don't want to be purged, lady. I like my vices and would be happy to leave his world.”

Jason peered around the corner and found the hallway except for its unearthly empty feeling. He began to make his way to the elevator that had brought him here. It was the way in, it had to be the way out. A glance behind showed him that Martha was keeping her distance but was following him, nevertheless.

'I've got to find a way out of here.'

Was everything still the same on the other side? He had read a lot of science fiction books in his time and his heart began to beat rapidly at the thought of his wonderful Nanette waking up and finding him missing. Would there be a search for him? How long would it go before the police gave up and she chose to move on?

Reaching the elevator, Jason gave the door a hard kicking though the sound was muted in response. The next thing he did was try to slip his fingers through the cracks and pull it open. He heaved and pulled but there was not even an inch of movement. It could have been a solid wall made to look like an elevator for all he knew. Jason was trapped in Hell.

It took everything in Jason's power not to run as he made his way down the hallway. The tingling in his feet and the pounding of his heart drowned out any thought that he could have. He had to get out no matter the cost. Jason finally reached the other end of the hallway and began to rattle on the door hard.

“Don't go that way,” Martha's voice wailed softly in his ear. Her cold breath near his face. “Your mind cannot understand it.”

“Like this place? Forget it. I'm out of here.”

As the last syllable fell from his mouth, the door clicked and spun open throwing him off balance. His face planted on to the cracked cement sending fireworks exploding through his brain. The warehouse worker pushed himself up on his arms and tried to shake the daze from his eyes. Light assailed him, and he blinked rapidly trying to clear them. He was in a large room, the bare pillars holding up the floor above. The windows were streaming the light of a dim, gray day. The smell of acidic rain was on the wind. Jason stood slowly, his knees shaking as he struggled to get his footing.

The site looked a lot like many abandoned construction sites he had come across. The tall bay windows, looming in front of him with razor sharp teeth of the glass that remained. Slowly, he crept up and peered out. He made sure to grab a good hand hold as he had no clue what was coming next.

He was four floors up from what looked like an abandoned hospital ground. The pavement had lost its battle with nature a long time ago and so clumps of weeds broke through the cracked concrete as flags of victory. Every other window was shattered, muddy or missing.

“Am...am I out?”

Jason stepped back and let his voice catch as he heard the crack of thunder in the distance. The world beyond the window was wrong in a way Jason's mind struggled to process.

It wasn't just abandoned. Abandonment implied that something had once been there. It looked and felt that life never touched this place. The ground below stretched out in a dull, featureless expanse that seemed to bleed into the horizon with no clear end. The sky above was the color of a bruise, neither day nor night, just a sickly, suffocating in-between that pressed down like a physical weight. There was no wind that he could see moving through the skeletal weeds below. No sound from outside at all , just a vacuum of existence that made the air feel thick and wrong in his lungs.

The weeds that had broken through the pavement weren't growing. They were dying, frozen mid-reach like hands grasping upward from something buried beneath. The trees at the far edge of the grounds were black and leafless, their branches twisted back on themselves as if recoiling from the sky. A rusted chain-link fence ran the perimeter and beyond it was nothing. Just hard, cracked salt flat going on forever.

Jason stared at it and felt something loosen in his chest. It started as a trembling in his hands. Then his breathing began to climb, short and shallow, like his body had forgotten the deeper rhythm. His vision began to pulse at the edges, contracting and expanding with each heartbeat that grew louder and more erratic in his ears. The sheer emptiness of it was its own horror , not the gore, not the screaming, not the thing that walked the hallways. This. This absence. This world that existed purely to be devoid of everything that made life bearable. No warmth, no color, no sound, no mercy. Just gray desolation stretching on forever in every direction like God had simply stopped caring about this particular square of creation.

Get down. Climb down. Find a pipe, find a ledge, find anything. Have to escape!

His mind lurched from thought to thought like a desperate animal throwing itself against the walls of a cage. Four floors. He could survive four floors if he hung from the edge of the window. Maybe three if the drop was on the softer ground near the fence. Was the ground soft? It had looked soft. Was the fence climbable? Was there even anywhere to go beyond that nothing at the edge of the property? There had to be something on the other side of that dull void.

Stop. Focus. Window ledge. Hands first. Go.

Jason gripped the frame, leaned forward, and felt the cold dead air from outside touch his face for the first time. It smelled like emptiness. Not rain, not earth , nothing. Like breathing recycled emptiness.

That was when the fingers found the back of his neck.

The cold hit him first , a deep, penetrating cold that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the absence of warmth in any living sense. Then the grip tightened and Jason was pulled backward with a force so overwhelming and effortless that his feet left the ground entirely.

He thrashed. He grabbed at the hand and felt the hard ridges of bare bone and screamed. Jason pulled and twisted but it was like fighting a machine. There was no give, no strain, no sense that his resistance registered in any meaningful way whatsoever.

“You do not belong here.”

Being this close, the voice was cavernous. It came from somewhere low and vast, like the sound a cathedral would make if a cathedral could speak. It was hollow, resonant, and completely without emotion.

Then it started to drag him.

Jason kicked his legs and clawed at the hand and managed to wrench himself sideways enough to catch fragments of the thing in his peripheral vision. He could not bring himself to look directly at it. Some part of his brain, some deeply buried survival mechanism, refused to let his eyes fully land on what was carrying him.

A torn lab coat , white, or what had once been white. Now it was a canvas of ruin, stiff with old rust-brown stains and glistening in places with something newer and darker that Jason did not want to think about. The coat hung in shreds at the hem, dragging along the cracked linoleum with a soft, horrible whisper. Below it , feet, or what served as feet. Bone. Just bone, yellowed and grinding against the floor with each heavy, deliberate step, leaving small pale scratches in the linoleum like a receipt of its passage.

This was the Doctor. He was in the clutches of the Doctor.

“Please.” Martha's voice came from somewhere behind them, thin and trembling. “Please, he is not one of them. He doesn't belong here. He found us by accident. Please.”

The Doctor did not respond. Did not slow. Did not acknowledge her in any way. Martha may as well have been the wallpaper.

Jason's elbow connected with something solid , the frame of a doorway , and pain lit up his arm to the shoulder. They were back in the main corridor. The light bulbs swayed above him. Through the doors on either side came the sounds he had been trying not to hear , the muffled screaming, the slow, wet sobbing, the sounds that had no name.

He's going to open one of those doors and put me in there. He's going to put me in a room and close the door and I will be here forever and Nanette will never know what happened to me and they will never find a body because there is no body to find and—

“Please!” Martha cried again, and her voice cracked on the word like something breaking. “He is innocent! Look at him! He is living! He is mortal and he is living and he does not belong to you!”

The grinding of teeth. The scratch of bone on linoleum.

Jason had stopped fighting with his muscles and started fighting with his mind, which was somehow worse. His thoughts had reached a fever pitch , white noise and panic and fragments of Nanette's face and the smell of the cocoa bar wrapper and the sound of the elevator ding when he had come down and the red block letters on the clock screaming 2:33 AM and none of it connected to any of it and all of it was slipping away from him.

Then the Doctor stopped.

Jason swayed in the grip, disoriented. They were at the elevator. The dull, rust-stained doors stood in front of them. He hadn't even registered the walk back.

A single bony finger, still wrapped around Jason's neck, extended and pressed the call button.

The wait was three seconds. The doors ground open with a groan of metal.

The grip on his neck shifted , found the back of his collar instead , and then Jason was airborne for one lurching, stomach-dropping moment before he hit the floor of the elevator hard, forehead first, the impact ricocheting through his skull in a white flash of pain. He tasted copper. He tried to get his hands under him and could not immediately remember how arms worked.

From behind him, from the corridor, the voice came one final time.

“Do not return.”

The doors ground shut.

The elevator hummed. Orchestral music droned from somewhere above him, tinny and absurd. Jason lay on the floor of the elevator with his cheek pressed against the cold metal and watched the small emergency light flicker and tried to remember how to breathe.

He was still trying when the doors opened again.

The light was different. That was the first thing. Warm. Yellow-white and artificial and completely, blessedly ordinary. The smell hit him next , antiseptic and floor polish and stale recycled air. His whole body went weak with relief at the sheer mundanity of it.

Jason White lay on the floor of the elevator on the fourth floor of Mercy General Hospital and did not move for a long moment.

When he finally pushed himself up, the clock on the wall of the corridor read 8:47 AM. Six hours. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and felt the knot already forming there. A passing patient glanced at him with raised eyebrows and kept walking with the careful, deliberate pace of someone who had decided not to get involved. Jason tried to stand, wobbled and then straightened. Pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead and held it there.

He had survived. Jason had survived whatever that nightmare was. The knot and ache were the only proof it hadn’t actually been some sort of hallucination. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a hallucination.

Jason got the look he expected when he pushed through Nanette's door. She was sitting up in bed, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her face cycling through relief and irritation and worry in quick succession the way it always did when she had been frightened and was trying to decide which feeling to lead with.

“Jason.” Her voice landed somewhere between scolding and grateful. “Where on earth have you been? I woke up and you were just...you look terrible. What happened to your head?”

He crossed the room in four steps, threw his arms around her and held her.

“Oookay. Love you to. You okay?”

“Just...lost track of time,” he lied.

“You sure?”

“Yes. Let’s go home.”

Evangeline Cross did not want to die.

There was too much left to do. Too many questions without answers. But the ocean had its own agenda and right now it was doing its damnedest to drag her down into the inky blackness below. No time to think. Just beat at the waves. Keep the head up. Don't swallow the ocean. There was so much water.

The rain wasn't helping. It had come out of nowhere. There was no build, no warning, just suddenly there. The heavy drops hammering her head and arms like rocks. The darkness had hit the same way. One moment dusk, the next nothing, as if the sun had decided not to exist anymore.

Swim, Evie. Swim!

She had no idea how long she'd been in the water. The ship had gone down fast. No stars above to gauge anything by, no lights anywhere, just the black water and the black sky and the rain trying to drive her under.

Her arms were burning. Legs too. Stop and drown or keep going and drown slower. There wasn’t many choices to be had.

The wave was strong and came from behind and her head went under. Her lungs burned as she hadn’t had a chance to suck in air and the panic was burning through what little oxygen she had left.

Her eyes were drawn downwards in her frantic kicking to reach back to the surface. Below her, in the black something moved. Large. Impossibly large but moved in a way her mind could not process. Air!

She kicked back to the surface and didn't look down again. She couldn’t look down it again. If it was coming from her, she didn’t want to see it get her. Drowning started to seem like the better option.

Sand in her mouth. Coarse. Gritty.

Her fingers were moving before her brain caught up, dragging, clawing, pulling herself forward through something solid. The beach. She was on the beach! She didn't know how. Didn't matter. She had to keep moving!

The black sand scratched at every inch of exposed skin. Rain still coming down hard, each drop slamming into the back of her head, trying to push her face back into it. The sand was wet and thick and it moved against her like it was trying to suck her in. It gripped her knees, pulling at the weight of her soaked clothes. The ocean hadn't taken her. Now the beach was having a go.

Her fingers hit something hard.

Not rock. The edge too clean. Too flat.

Concrete.

She pressed her palm against it and felt the seams. Deliberate. Manufactured. It meant someone had been here. It meant someone had built something.

Evie started to laugh. It came out wrong. Too high. Too close to the other thing. It didn’t matter. The ocean and the beach failed to take her.

She pressed her forehead against the concrete, breathed, and passed out.

You’re not dead, Evie.

She came back to herself in pieces.

It was the sound first. The rain still fell but it had become lighter. The kind that settled into a gentle patter that one would read or write news articles to. Underneath that sound, water moving over rock somewhere nearby. And under that, at the edge of hearing, something she couldn't name. Not a sound exactly. More like the space where a sound should have been and wasn't.

Then cold. God, she hated the cold. It was that specific cold of wet clothes that had been wet long enough to stop feeling wet and start feeling like skin. Her hair was matted against her face as the bun she had put it up in had failed. There was nothing left to do but open her eyes and pray nothing was going to eat her.

Grey light was what first assailed her eyes. Maybe it was pre-dawn or a sky that didn't intend to get much brighter than this. The rain came down soft and steady through it, dimpling the black sand around her face. She watched it for a moment, the small craters each drop made, the way the sand filled them back in slowly, the dark color of it that didn't match any beach she'd been on.

Black sand. She filed that away.

Her body ran its own inventory while her mind caught up. Hands, present, scraped, the right palm flattened against something hard.

Concrete. She had found concrete before passing out.

Legs were still intact. They were there heavy and she had lost one shoe. Her head was a particular ache taken a wave badly. She breathed deep again to check her lungs. They worked. She was alive.

Alright, Evie. You can’t just lay here. You gotta find shelter or something.

How long had it been since she took any sort of survivalist training? None. Camping was about it and that trip was a cabin. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked at where she was.

The beach stretched in both directions, the black sand dark and wet, the rain stippling it in shifting patterns. Behind her, there was vegetation that was dense, dark, the kind that didn't leave gaps. In front, the ocean, flat and black in the grey light. The horizon was nearly invisible do the color of the fog and the sky. It was like the word just didn’t exist that far out.

Move girl. You gotta move. She sat up the rest of the way and pushed her wet hair back from her face only noticing in passing that the dirty blond strands mixed with red. A part of her groused that she didn’t re-dye it like she had planned and then chuckled at the extremely bizarre thought.

What had she grabbed a hold of? Turning and ignoring the groan of her back, she found what it was. It was a wall. Part of one at least. It was maybe four feet of and appeared to be holding back the rest of the place. Retaining wall maybe?

She put her hand flat against it again and pulled herself up and so many of her joints cracked and popped at the effort. She almost past out from exhaustion from the movement. Her limbs were so tired.

It wasn’t just a retaining wall. It was a small road, the asphalt old with grass forcing it’s way through the cracks. Looking left and right, it appeared to run the length of the shore an those dark trees and foliage. Not maintained. Access roads?

There were not yellow lines on it that she would have expect so maybe it was just there to allow beach goers an easy way to access this, strange, black beach.

Why the hell would anyone go here?

That was a problem for another time. She made a mental note that if she found any of her items, she was going to come back to make sketches and notes for an article.

Hefting herself over the retaining wall on to the road was much more of a feet than she wanted to admit. The exercising she had done daily was probably the reason the ocean hadn’t drug her down.

Standing on that road with hands on her hips, she looked both direction, confused trying to decide which direction she should go. The rain hadn’t stopped and she had a concern it would get heavy again.

Don’t want to go through that.

The direction really wasn’t that important. The key was finding civilization. That’s what her dad always said. Beginning to walk, she made her way down the broken asphalt, the crunch of the pieces crackling under her one shoe mixed with the sound of the rain splashing down. Thank god she was starting to feel more human again. It was going to take forever to get her clothes dried.

It was probably about thirty minutes until she was able to see structures in the distance, like the start of low buildings leading into a town.

You can jog the last bit of distance, Evie, she lied to herself. Her legs were still weak and had stated to grow stiff. She only took a few short trots before slowing down again. Was that a lump in the middle of the road? She squinted. Yeah, there was definitely something up ahead but the rain and the hazy gray of the air only made showed it’s dark outline.

Cautiously walking closer, her gut twisted as recognition kicked in. It was a body sitting but slumped forward, arms hanging loosely by their side. She had seen those clothes before. Who was it again?

Richard something or other.

He was some sort of archeologist as part of the scientific cruise. She remembered wondering what could even interest an archeologist as the voyage was about the ocean. She went to call out but a cold stab of fear kicked her gut. The body moved. It looked like he was scooting backwards without moving.

It took way to long before her brain processed that something was pulling him in short, slow bursts towards the forest edge. Instinct told her to run up and help but what she saw rooted her in her track.

Tendrils.

Black, long, and glistening were wrapped around the man’s body and was tugging him along. She could hear the scuff of his clothes against the asphalt.

Breath. You gotta remember to breath! she told herself. Her mind refused to even comprehend what she was seeing. There was no creature on the planet she had ever encountered that had tendrils like that.

Turning around was the only choice at this moment but when she did, she saw something hulking. It was low and wide and it moved like something that had learned to walk from a description rather than from practice.

Oh, god! What was going on here? What were these things? Her mind raced half wanting to learn more for an article but the other out of sheer terror she hadn’t felt since Afghanistan.

Every bit of her screamed to run as the sound of it dragging itself along the pavement finally reached her ears.

Don’t run. Walk. You’re faster than it right now, Evie. she told herself.

Turning back to where the body was, she had found it was gone. Sucking in a breath and holding it, she moved and walked as quickly as she could without making a sound. As she past that spot, the grotesque wet crunching reached her ears from somewhere in the woods. It took everything not to wretch right there.

As soon as she passed the first building and the forest was no longer on her right.

She ran.

Discuss...

She had been hiking alone, a last-minute decision to clear her mind after a stressful week at work. The fact her boss hinted that she would be fired after the three day weekend did not help her mood.

“How the hell am I supposed to keep the numbers up if they keep raising the amount,” she grumbled to the trees around her.

Her friends often teased her about going off the beaten path, but Kira relished the isolation. Working at a call center, talking all the time made her want to avoid people. Solitude was a balm, a way to reconnect with herself after all the cynical noise from her customers. She hadn’t planned to stray this far. Kira was certain she had followed the trail, but when the trees thinned and the rocky outcropping appeared, the woman realized she was in a part of the forest she had never seen.

“Where am I?” Kira said looking around at the clearing she had stumbled into.

The cave beckoned her with its gaping mouth, a jagged crack in the earth that seemed to sink deeper than the eye could follow. The air spilling from it was cool, carrying a dampness that clung to her skin. Despite the growing unease crawling up her spine, Kira’s curiosity won over.

She had no flashlight, just her phone, but the battery was low. Still, the light was enough to make out the path ahead as she carefully picked her way into the cave, each step echoing in the suffocating silence. The deeper she went, the more the air changed. The crisp, natural scent of earth and moss gave way to something pungent, like stagnant water.

Kira knew she was being stupid, but something was drawing her in. An insatiable curiosity about what was at the end of the tunnel.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, she reached an expansive chamber. The walls glittered with moisture, and in the center had her frozen to the spot. A lagoon lay nestled in the middle of the cavern, its surface glowing with an ethereal, blue light. The water shimmered, casting soft reflections across the ceiling like dancing spirits. Kira stood at the edge, mesmerized. The glow seemed to pulse gently, as if the lagoon had a heartbeat of its own.

For a moment, the unease she had felt dissipated. It was beautiful—unnatural, yes, but undeniably captivating. Kira knelt, her hand hovering over the surface of the water. She wanted to touch it, to break the mirror surface but her hand did not move. Something about the way it shimmered seemed… wrong. The glow, though soft and inviting, felt like something grinning and trying not to show its teeth.

A sudden splash echoed through the cavern, sending ripples across the lagoon. Kira’s heart jumped, her gaze darting to the far side of the water. She saw nothing, just the stillness of the glowing lagoon and the jagged walls beyond. The water was undisturbed, but she had heard something hit it. The quiet wasn’t comforting anymore. An oppressive, weight wrapped around her lungs like thick fog trying to force her to the ground. She could not see it, but she knew.

Something was watching her.

Kira stood up quickly, backing away from the water’s edge. The light from her phone flickered, and she cursed under her breath. She needed to leave. Now. Desperately turning to find the path back, something in the water stirred again—this time closer.

She froze, her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she turned her head back toward the lagoon, dread pooling in her stomach. Did she have time to run? Was it close to her? Was she about to die?

The glowing water began to churn, and from its depths, a dark shape started to rise. At first, it was nothing more than a vague shadow beneath the surface, but as it neared the top, Kira could make out more details. The figure was massive, its form serpentine, with limbs too long, too thin, stretching out like twisted branches. The glow of the water cast sickly reflections on its slimy, dark skin.

It had eyes—pale, milky orbs that seemed to bulge from its skull, locking onto her with an intensity that made her mind freeze in place. Its mouth, if that’s what it was, stretched open into a grotesque smile, filled with needle-like teeth that shimmered in the blue light.

Panic surged through Kira, every instinct screaming at her to run. She turned and bolted toward the tunnel she came through, but as her feet hit the rocky ground, the creature let out a sound—a low, giggling laugh like that of a child that echoed in the cavern, reverberating off the walls like a living thing. It was followed by a splash, and she knew without looking that it was following her.

Her phone’s light flickered again, the battery draining faster now as if the very air was sucking the life from it. The woman stumbled, her foot catching on a loose stone. She hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from her lungs. For a terrifying moment, she lay there, gasping for breath, her lungs refusing to pull in the air that she desperately craved. The sound of water sloshing and something wet dragging across the stone floor was audible now. It was slow but certain.

Legs finally started cooperating and Kira pushed herself up. She ignored the pain in her ankle and the tremble in her legs. She had to get out. She had to get out now! The tunnel felt longer than what it had been when she came in. The scared customer service agent ran, her breath ragged and her chest tight with fear. Behind her, the sounds grew louder, the wet dragging noise now accompanied by something else—something like a giggling whisper.

“Kira…Where are you, Kira?” Her name was drug out in a long sentence.

The voice was low, wet, but the tenor of a child. It slithered into her ears, making her skin crawl. The woman glanced back, just for a second, and saw the creature’s pale eyes gleaming in the darkness, peering around a turn in the tunnel, it’s one eye visible and half of a toothy smile staring at her with glee.

Terror gripped her. She pushed herself harder, her legs burning as she raced toward the cave’s entrance. The blue light of the lagoon still reflected in the tunnel behind her, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Somehow feeling as if they were reaching for her itself. Kira could feel the creature’s breath—cold and damp—on the back of her neck as it closed.

Then, just as the darkness around her seemed ready to swallow her whole, Kira saw a faint glimmer of daylight ahead. Sprinting the last few yards, she threw herself out, rolled and faced the entrance terror filling her wondering if it had leapt out after her.

The entrance was dark and still, the lagoon and the creature hidden dep within the earth. But she knew it was still there, lurking, watching. The whisper echoed in her mind again.

“Kira…”

“Screw you,” she hissed back.

She sat on the forest floor, trembling, her breath still shallow. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and the sunlight shone on top of her. It was still daylight and she had time to get back to the car.

She couldn’t stay there, that was for sure. Gritting her teeth, Kira pulled herself to her feet, wincing as her weight shifted onto her injured leg. She needed to get far away from the cave. No more curiosity. No more exploring. Just survival.

As she limped through the forest, the trees around her seemed ominously still, as if the very world was holding its breath. She kept glancing back over her shoulder, half expecting to see those pale, bulging eyes staring at her from the shadows between the trees. But nothing followed her.

After a few minutes, Kira finally reached the familiar trailhead that marked the beginning of the hiking path. Relief washed over her. She knew her car was just a few more minutes awake but her ankle was screaming louder every step of the way.

Kira’s phone was nearly dead now, but she tapped the screen to check for a signal. Nothing. No bars.

“Shit,” She cursed under her breath, scanning the forest for any sign of other hikers, but she was alone. The growing dusk stretched the shadows longer, the daylight fading fast.

“Just keep moving,” she muttered to herself. “You’ll be fine once you get back to the car.”

As she hobbled along the path, a gnawing thought surfaced in her mind. The whisper. That thing in the cave had said her name. It knew who she was. How? A chill rippled down her spine as her mind raced through the possibilities. Maybe she had imagined it. Maybe her terror had twisted the sounds into something she could comprehend. But no matter how much she tried to reason with herself, the whisper had felt real. Too real.

The sun dipped below the horizon as she reached the edge of the parking lot. Her car sat where she had left it, the only vehicle in sight. She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked the door and collapsed into the driver’s seat. Shutting the door with a slam, she exhaled a shaky breath, locking all the doors before slumping back against the headrest.

For a moment, Kira sat in the stillness of the car, her mind racing, replaying the events in the cave over and over. The creature, the glowing water, that voice—none of it made sense. It felt like a nightmare, but she knew it had been real. Her ankle’s sharp pain was proof enough.

With trembling fingers, she started the car. The engine’s rumble was a comforting reminder of normalcy, something familiar during everything she couldn’t explain. She put the car into gear, ready to speed down the narrow forest road and never look back.

As the tires crunched over gravel and dirt, Kira glanced into her rear view mirror. The entrance to the hiking trail slowly disappeared, swallowed by the thickening night.

Home. All she wanted to do was go home. She glanced in the rear view mirror and something caught her eye. Just barely visible in the dim twilight, she saw a faint glow. A soft, blue light shining through the trees. Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to focus on the road ahead. It was just her imagination. She was exhausted, shaken, her mind playing tricks on her. The highway was only a mile more.

The further she drove, the more her panic began to settle. The radio buzzed faintly as she turned it on, hoping the music would drown out her thoughts. But the signal was weak, crackling with static. She twisted the dial, trying to find a clear station, but all she got was more hissing and buzzing.

“Kira…Where are you going? I want to play with you.”

She jerked the wheel, her heart slamming against her ribs as the whisper sounded by her ear. She looked in the mirror and saw no one in the back seat. The car swerved slightly before she regained control, her eyes wide and her hands gripping the steering wheel tight.

“No, no, no, no!” Kira whimpered.

The road stretched out before her, endless and dark, the trees pressing in from either side. She pressed her foot harder on the gas, the car speeding up as the headlights carved a narrow path through the night. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out every rational thought. She had to get out of there—get as far away from the forest, from the cave, from “It”.

But as the car sped down the winding road, the blue glow appeared again, flickering in the distance through the trees. It was following her. No matter how fast she went, no matter how far she tried to drive, the light was always there, faint but persistent.

“Come on, Kira. Let me play. I want to feel your sinew strain as we dance to Sarnithis’ song. Listen to the song your voice makes as we dig into your nerves.”

The whispers were coming from every direction now. It seeped into her mind, cold and wet, wrapping around her thoughts like the touch of something long buried in the depths. She slammed her hands over her ears, trying to block it out, but the voice only grew louder.

It was only in that instant before the crash that Kira realized that she had taken her hands off the wheel. The vehicle careened off the road and into the gully. The crunch of the brush and thud of hitting a stump silencing everything.

Dazed, she tried to force the door open and after a few pushes it popped open. Kira fell to her face and tried to force herself to stand. It was only now that she realized the blue light was around her that reality came rushing back. She had left the safety of the car!

Kira could not run, wet, sticky incredibly long fingers slid over her scalp from behind and she let out a cry as the sharp claws dug into her forehead to hold her. The woman felt herself being lifted off the ground so that her legs were dangling a good two feet from the forest floor. The searing pain swept through Kira’s lower back as the impossibly sharp claw pushed through her skin and nicked her spinal column causing her legs to go limp and useless.

“There, there, Kira,” it giggled in her ear, its breath smelling like rotting fish and earth. “Don’t fight it. I look forward to giving you the privilege of being twisted into perfection for Sarnithis. He enjoys such beauties as you.”

She did not know if it was the pain or something about the creature who was dragging her to a torturous fate, but she could see in her mind, the following morning where the wardens would find her car miraculously back to where it had been, undamaged and the keys sitting on the cushion. They would look for her. For two weeks nobody would find her. They would even search around the cave but never see it, but it did not matter, she would have had her limbs and bones snapped and re-arranged into something beautiful for ‘it who breaks the veil’.

One thing was for certain. No one would see Kira again.

So, three weeks had passed since my mother passed away. As much as I wanted to ignore everything and just wallow in my grief, I knew I had to go clean out her house. My wife had been gently coaxing me in that direction a week after the funeral. I found myself in the basement of her old house much sooner than I wanted, sifting through memories and mementos my mother never got around to getting rid of. The air was thick with dust and nostalgia. As I moved a stack of old, yellowed newspapers, my eyes caught on something peculiar—a door, tucked away in a corner. Oddly, I didn't remember ever seeing it before.

Now, this was not my childhood home but a place she had moved into after my dad had died. I had been down in this basement quite a few times and never remembered a door here.

Hesitantly, I approached the door. It was plain, unassuming, yet felt strange to look at. I don’t know how to put it in words but the longer I looked at the door the more my eyes wanted to look away, like this plain wooden door hurt to be looked at. Curiosity got the better of me and I reached forward and grabbed the cool handle. An unexplainable dread flooded over me causing me to release it as if it had burnt me.

‘What the hell was that?’ I had thought to myself staring at the worn knob.

Stepping away from the door for a few moments, I haphazardly went through the basement finally locating my father’s old military flashlight, you know the ones that are drab green and at an angle? I had recently switched the batteries out, so I knew it was good to go and returned to the door. Taking a breath, I put my hand on the knob, turned and pulled it gently open.

Though it did not creak loudly, there was a puff of stale air that escaped carrying along the scent of plant decay and dirt. As my beam shined down, I was surprised to see solid stone steps that descended, hit a landing, and then turned around the corner to what I expected to be another flight. How the hell was there a flight of stairs like this in my mother’s house?

Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the staircase. Each step echoed in the hollow space though it almost felt like that sound could not get past the open door above. I continued to the landing, peered around and found another set of identical stairs that continued.

After descending those two flights, a feeling of unease began to gnaw at me. Though the walls had been plain at the start, they were now adorned with faded frescoes and intricate carvings that felt familiar yet foreign. The air had grown heavier as if it had not moved in years. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was intruding on some sort of forgotten realm, a place not meant for the likes of me.

I paused, catching my breath, at the sight of the first stone door. Its surface was covered in strange glyphs which I recognized as a Greek symbols. The door was ajar and based on the collection of undisturbed dust, it had been so for quite a while. Beyond it, the next set of stairs looked older, less cared for. Layers of dirt coated each step, undisturbed until now.

My heart pounded in my chest. This didn't make sense. How could this exist beneath my mother's house? A house I thought I knew every inch of. I should have turned back at that point, but I knew I had to keep going.

As I made the first flight and landing of this new doorway, the entire design of the stairwell had changed. The floor had become a white and black marble with Grecian style pillars carved out of the walls on both sides. What I was not ready for was what lay beyond the corridor.

‘This is impossible.’

That’s what I kept telling myself.

‘This is absolutely impossible!’

I stepped into the subterranean marvel, immediately noticing the cooler air and the hushed serenity that enveloped me. Before me lay an architectural wonder, an underground bridge reminiscent of ancient Greek elegance. Both the bridge and its landings were crafted from the finest marble, its surface smooth and lustrous under the soft, ambient lighting.

The marble was a tapestry of colors, primarily pristine white, veined with subtle streaks of gray and hints of blue, resembling the tranquil skies of the Mediterranean. The craftsmanship was exquisite, with each slab meticulously joined, creating an almost seamless flow of stone.

The bridge arched gracefully over a still, reflective waterway. The surface of the water mirrored the majestic structure above, adding a unnatural quality with its gentle ripples sending soft echoes through this subterranean world.

Flanking the bridge were rows of columns, robust and simple. These columns supported an intricately carved frieze above, depicting scenes of ancient Greek mythology. I could recognize some of the stories, but a lot were unfamiliar.

The landing areas at both ends of the bridge were spacious and clean. They were adorned with empty pots that appeared to have once held trees or plants but had long since died. There was a subtle fragrance on the air that I could not quite figure out where it was coming from.

Overhead, the ceiling was high and vaulted. It was adorned with artful mosaics, each tile meticulously placed depicting the night sky though I could not locate any familiar constellation and that was hard to believe since I grew up studying the stars with my dad.

I stood there, staring in disbelief of what my eyes were showing me. I even reached out and touched the side of the bridge a few times just to prove to myself that it was there. In hindsight, I should have turned and left immediately. This was impossible and real at the same time which did not spell a good outcome for me but that did not happen.

As I think back on it, it felt as if I was in a dream and like anyone in a dream, logical decisions are not easy to come by. Before I even had a chance to think on it, I began to walk across, my footsteps echoing softly.

It was about halfway across the bridge that I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I immediately spun to look to my right broken out of my dream like revelry but found nothing. In that very moment, I could have sworn I saw something moving up around the tops of the outcropping of the vaulted ceiling.

I shinned my flashlight up there and found nothing out of the ordinary…well, out of the ordinary for a place that should not exist in the first place. With bit more of a hurried step, I made it to the other side of the bridge instead of retreating the way I came. Like an idiot, I needed to know where this was going. On the opposite side of the bridge, there was another identical corridor that led to yet another flight of steps. Impatiently, I hurried down them and came to a halt in front of another door. This one was pure granite stone, almost two feet thick. I knew this because it looked like someone had spent a lot of energy pushing on it and got it to move enough to allow a human to squeeze through. This door had symbols on it to and like the earlier one, I recognized them as ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. I had no idea what they said but my love of ancient history made me confident in my find.

At this moment, I knew I had come too far. Have you ever had that moment when you realized you were in way too deep and that you needed to get out. I felt that to my very core. The air had shifted around me and I knew it deep down but as a fool I decided that I needed to keep going, just a bit further. Shimming through the opening, I was plunged into blackness except for the light coming from the cracked stone door.

The darkness beyond was almost palpable. I aimed my flashlight directly ahead of me and saw that there were more stairs. These stairs here were ancient, unevenly worn, as if carved thousands of years ago. The air was suffocating, thick with dust and the weight of time. I could barely breathe. As I descended, a faint, indistinct sound reached my ears. It was barely audible over the sound of my own footsteps, but it was there—a whisper, a murmur, something alive in this tomb of history. My heart raced, and a cold sweat broke out on my brow. I wasn't alone and I was the idiot that got killed in horror movies.

I pressed on, driven by a mix of fear and fascination. The stairs became treacherous, uneven and dangerously steep. With every step, I feared I would slip and tumble into the inky blackness that light struggled to cut through.

Finally, I reached yet another door. This one was closed, sealed shut as if it hadn't been opened in millennia. It was weathered and appeared to have been hewn from the stone by hand. There were only a few scratched symbols in the door that I recognized. Babylonian. It was almost as if I had gone through time and arrived at a door to one of the planet’s oldest civilizations. The handle was a simply rope that had been looped through and looked as ancient as the door but somehow yet intact. I put my hand on the door knowing that this next decision would be the dumbest I could make but I had to see what was on the other side.

Fortunately, I never got an opportunity. I heard it first behind me, a hiss that was quite loud. I spun around in terror to see what had followed me in to the earth. At first, might light could not find it but that was because my brain could not process what I was seeing.

It was a giant snake, that was almost as tall as me as it sat back on its coils. Its scales shimmered like emeralds in the dim light, and its many heads, crowned with horns, swayed gently as if in a trance. The head of this creature was wide and the eyes golden and unnatural. Have you ever looked at an animal and realized that it was thinking and smarter than you? That was the feeling I got as it focused on me. The forked tongue came out as it tasted the air.

‘Shit!’ I had thought to myself as I wondered if I could move to the wall in hopes it had somehow not noticed me. That was stupid to think since it was looking straight at me.

From deep within its throat, it began to emit strange sounds, combinations I had never heard of but was pretty sure it was speaking. When it spoke again, the tone made it clear it was upset I had not responded.

After the third attempt, I could tell it was done. The movement was quick but I either was damn lucky or it was off balance (or a mixture of both). The strange snake monster lunged at me and I instinctively dived to the side. The massive body went over head and landed with a thud against the ancient, unopened door.

I did not wait to find out what its next plan was. I sprinted with all my might, fueled with adrenalin and dashed back the way I came. The sound of scales against dirt told me that it was right behind me. As I ran up the uneven stairs praying I did not slip, I felt it’s breath on my neck a few times. I threw myself through the cracked door scraping my head against the stone causing blood to pour into my eye. I heard the thump of the creature hitting the door and causing the crack to become smaller.

Part of me knew it could not get through that crack anymore but the rest of me did not care. I ran and ran up flights of stairs until at last, I burst back into the extremely small basement and kicked the door closed with my feet. The door slammed shut and I screamed for my wife.

That is pretty much where my story ends. My wife came running down the steps and saw the horrible state I was in. I’m pretty sure I babbled quite a bit because she could not make out anything I said. A few hours later when I was calmed down, I mentioned the door and she looked at me confused.

What was strange is that I took her down to the basement and pointed to it and her face would go blank. It was like she could see it but just not comprehend it. That look people get who are half awake and talking to you in your sleep? In the end, I gave up trying to explain it and we left.

Why am I telling you this? That’s because I want someone to know. I went back and the door is still there and it still opens. I plan to go in again and see if I can discover more about it. Why am I the only one that can comprehend it. Why does it exist?

I know that snake thing is still in there but I’m pretty confident it is trapped which allows me a chance to explore the rest. Is it stupid? Probably but I need to know. I need to know why there is a door in my mom’s basement that leads to a place that should not exist.

I’m just waiting for my gun permit to clear and finishing my research on Greek, Egyptian, and Babylonian myths to help me understand. Once I’ve gotten that, I’m going back in.

I’m going to find the answers and nothing is stopping me.

It was the normal route that I took every day from work. I think It might have known that. Being one of the few waitresses with experience at that stupid coffee store, my manager always made me close when he could get away with it. I think it may have known that too.

It was well past eleven when I finally got everything done and the doors locked. The night itself hung heavy, the air thick like an oncoming storm. It was the kind which clung to your skin and sent shivers down your spine. I walked briskly through the deserted streets, cursing that I had to do this again, the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the empty buildings that loomed like silent sentinels on either side. My breath formed visible puffs in the frigid air, and a sense of unease settled over me like a heavy cloak. Winter was an accursed time for me. That’s how it always felt. My coat was never thick enough, and my ears were always cold even with the knitted cap pulled low. That night had been much worse.

I was almost home, my pace quickening as I approached the familiar glow of the streetlamps. The pools of light they cast on the pavement felt like beacons of safety. I had always loved the streetlamps with their orange glow. Little did I know that, tonight, the light would betray me.

As I turned the corner onto my block, I noticed that for the first time, all the lights had been on. There was one halfway down that cast a very soft, green light that felt comforting to see. I had heard about other countries experimenting with lights of different colors to ease pedestrians, and a part of me was glad that they were trying it out. Honestly, one bulb was not going to be enough, but in this case, I was glad to see it.

The green light flickered, casting an eerie glow on the deserted street. Surprisingly, the warmth it emanated felt like a welcome embrace, and an overwhelming desire to stop and rest. My tired legs grew heavy, and the green glow seemed to warm me up inside.

Without realizing it, my steps slowed, and I found myself standing beneath the peculiar light. The soft hum it emitted seemed to echo in the stillness of the night, lulling me into a sleepy feeling that usually never hit me without a fifth of vodka and half package of Oreos. A strange calm settled over me, and for a moment, the tension that had gripped me since leaving work seemed to dissipate.

Then, as quickly as the comfort had set in, a cold realization crept over me. Something was wrong. The comforting green light started to shift, its glow taking on an ominous hue. The air around me thickened, and I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of being watched. I felt trapped. My mind wanted to react, but the rest of my body just stayed there basking in the light.

As I poured every ounce of will into moving again towards my home, the green light seemed to elongate and twist, forming grotesque shadows that danced along the pavement. Panic clawed at the edges of my consciousness, and I forced a step forward. The once-friendly glow now felt like a malevolent force, guiding me into a trap.

The shadows coalesced into…something—a grotesque figure with elongated fingers that reached out like the tendrils. The streetlamp seemed to come alive as if it was actually some sort of creature waiting for prey. It couldn’t be true. I was confident until I smelled the tang of rust and felt its fingers start tangling in my hair.

With a scream of desperation inside, the spell that I was held under broke. I ducked just in time to avoid the monstrous appendages grabbing hold of me. I broke into a cold sweat which coated my skin. I ran back as the green light seemed to twist to look at me, the hood of the lamp the creature’s face emitting that once peaceful glow.

I broke into a sprint, the echoes of my footsteps now accompanied by the nightmarish clatter of the pursuing creature. The thing had unfurled its long, sinewy legs from its body where it had been pretending to be a pole, leaning forward with claws snapping, desperately attempting to get a hold of me.

I ran. The silhouette loomed closer, its shadow from the greenlight the only clue was still behind me. Somehow, the street was empty and only the sound of my ragged breathing and the soft clang of metal as it galloped after me!

The chase continued through the labyrinth of empty streets since I lost track of home. I could feel its malevolence closing in, a predatory force hungry for its prey. My heart pounded in my chest, and fear clung to me like a suffocating shroud as I raced against the night and the monstrous creature that hunted me through the dimly lit streets. Every single time I thought I was ahead, the green would come around the corner, scan, and begin to barrel after me.

Gasping for breath, I sprinted into a large, open parking lot, hoping the labyrinth of cars would offer some cover. The stark, flickering fluorescent lights overhead created eerie shadows that played tricks on my senses, were there more?

I crouched between two cars, my chest heaving, and my eyes darting nervously around the desolate parking lot. The distant hum of the city seemed muffled, drowned out by the pounding of my heart in my ears. The green light filled the parking lot as It slowed down and began to search methodically. It moved ominously between the rows of cars, its glow flickering with malevolence.

I pressed myself against the cold metal of the car, desperate to keep a low profile. The monster's elongated limbs reached out, probing the air like a predatory insect, searching for any trace of my presence. Panic gripped me as I realized the enormity of my predicament – this creature was relentless, and the darkness seemed to amplify its insatiable desire to capture me.

The green light moved back and forth, casting grotesque shadows that danced across the asphalt. I held my breath, praying that the creature wouldn't sense me amidst the sea of parked cars. Each step it took echoed, reverberating through the empty expanse of the parking lot. Where the hell was everyone? A guttural growl emanated from the monster, sending shivers down my spine. It was a sound that seemed to transcend the boundaries of the known, a primal call t that shouldn’t exist. I strained to control my breathing, terrified that even the slightest noise might betray my location.

The green light hovered dangerously close, its sickly glow revealing the twisted contours of the streetlamp monster. As it came within inches of my hiding spot, I held my breath and hoped it could not hear my heart.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I waited for the opportune moment. As the creature turned away, I seized the chance to slip away, darting between cars like a phantom in the night. My footsteps were silent, but the asphalt seemed to groan beneath the weight of my fear. I knew I could not have been fully silent as the green light seemed to flicker as its head shot back and forth looking and trying to figure out where the soft noise was coming from. I knew if I could get out and around the corner where the walls would block its view, I would have a chance.

I found a break in the rows of cars and sprinted towards the edge of the parking lot. The green light followed, casting long, haunting shadows as it continued its pursuit. The open expanse stretched before me, and to my relief the street had come alive with people who had been exiting the bars. I made a desperate dive towards a group of people meandering past the lot.

Breathless and trembling, I stumbled into the midst of unsuspecting pedestrians. I knew they looked at me confused but all I cared about was that light. I looked and only caught a sign of it on the opposite side of the block retreating into the dark, the green slowly vanishing against the black night. I merged with the group and stayed, and they didn’t protest. I think the fear in my eyes told them something was up, but they weren’t interested in finding out what. I had kept casting furtive glances over my shoulder to ensure the creature had abandoned its chase and saw no sign of it. The last thing I heard about it was a strange warbling wail of frustration that could have easily been mistaken for the Amtrak passing by. Arriving home, I fumbled for my keys with trembling hands. The safety of my apartment brought only partial relief, for the echoes of the nightmarish chase still reverberated in my mind. I locked the door behind me, leaning against it as if to barricade myself from the horrors that lurked outside.

I quit that morning and moved. I didn’t alert the landlord or even give a reason to either. I told my mother I was coming home because “things happened” and fled.

I don’t know if anyone will believe me but if you see a green light, please, please be careful.

Oh, yeah. I work at one of those indoor flea-markets. Those places where it’s a giant warehouse and there are rows of cubbies and shelves where vendors can hang their crap and hawk their wares. A lot of our vendors are only on premise for a few hours a day but each has their own unique sticker code and my job was to ring them all up by their vendor numbers so they all got paid at the end of the week. It was a