“Come to me… come for me…”
“Where are you?” I whisper, though I’m not sure why I’m answering.
Suddenly, the door behind me creaks open, and I flinch so hard my body jerks, spinning around with my heart in my throat.
First, a tiny, pale hand sneaks around the edge of the door. Then a small strange, warped figure slowly peeks around it—one large, glossy black eye staring at me from a distorted, childlike face.
“Mommy…” it whispers in a sweet, innocent voice that doesn’t match its twisted form. “Can you tuck me in bed?”
My heart stops dead in my chest, my mind spinning rapidly, trying to make sense of the strange being standing in front of me.
It lets out a soft, unhinged giggle, high-pitched and menacing, before darting back behind the door and vanishing.
I stand stiff, wheezing, every nerve screaming at me to get the fuck out of here.
Without warning, from somewhere deeper in the house, a baby’s scream rips through the silence, shrill and agonized, like it’s being hurt.
My stomach plummets, and a sick, primal maternal instinct surges through me despite everything, pulling me forward before I can think.
I rush toward the door, bare feet slapping against the cold, filthy floor, and swing it open.
Bursting into the dark hallway, I follow the sound of the tortured crying. The jarring wails roaring through the labyrinth of corridors, dragging me deeper like a cruel siren call.
I round a sharp corner, but skid to a sudden halt.
The crying has stopped, and quiet swallows the house once more.
Spinning around wildly, eyes darting in every direction, I turn again and again, spinning in frantic circles, the walls blurring around me.
In my dizziness, I catch only a fleeting glimpse of a tall, black figure standing motionless at the far end of the hallway—those pitch-black eyes locked directly onto me.
The world whirls as I flop hard against the wall, sliding down until I’m half-collapsed, the corridor twisting and warping around me.
“What do you want from me?!” I yell towards him.
“Everything,” Krool’s deep, hungry whisper slips through the darkness, wrapping around my mind like his cold shadows. “Now run, little light. I want to see what fear leaves behind when I strip you down to nothing.”
Her wet eyes widen in pure horror as my black hand splits from my arm with a tearing sound, dropping heavily to the floor with a nauseating thud.
But it doesn’t stay down, the severed hand springs up instantly on all five claws, scuttling across the floor like a grotesque spider.
The wrist is a torn, ghostly mess of shredded black skin and pulsing white veins, twitching and dripping ink as it moves with unnatural, ravenous purpose.
Her fear blooms in the air like a satisfying perfume as she hastily shoves herself away from the wall and starts sprinting down the long hallway, bare feet slapping against the floor.
But my hand is so much faster.
It leaps onto the wall, skittering along the faded, peeling floral wallpaper at terrifying speed—a dark, clawed thing racing after her like it’s chasing prey.
White veins pulse visibly beneath its shadowy skin as it gains on her with every frantic heartbeat.
As soon as she reaches the end of the hallway, she whips around, a raw scream tearing from her throat.
And it’s music to my fucking ears.
But the sound is short-lived, because my severed hand springs off the wall, launching through the air like a weapon before slamming into her throat with brutal force.
My fingers wrap viciously around her neck, and she chokes instantly, eyes bulging. The impact drives her backward and smashes her hard into the floor with a deafening crack.
