THE CHOICE

The man's grip tightened on Irynefer's wrist, and she winced, the sharp, immediate pain serving as a reminder that she was still alive—or at least something close to it. The darkness around them seemed to pulse, breathing in sync with the dread gnawing at her insides. The city felt a million miles away with its cold, indifferent lights, yet its memory was as clear as the chill that clung to her skin.

"Why am I here?" she inquired softly. The man remained silent, his expression unreadable, as if the tenebrosity surrounding them was reflected in his eyes. Those dark, bottomless pits seemed to see through the very fabric of her being, peeling back the layers of her soul, exposing every raw nerve and hidden scar.

Her breath came in short, panicked gasps as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. This was not the release she had sought, not the peaceful end she had longed for. This was something far more sinister.

"Please," she begged, desperation seeping into her voice, "let me go."

The man tilted his head as if considering her plea, his grip still ironclad around her wrist. Then, slowly, he released her, his hand falling away like a shadow retreating from the light. She stumbled back, her body shaking, but she didn't fall. The ground beneath her feet was solid, though the world around her was anything but.

"Go?" he echoed. "There is no going back."

She swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in her dry throat. "What do you want from me?"

He stepped closer, and she instinctively backed away, but there was no escape, no place to run.

"You sought oblivion," he responded, his voice as cold as the wind that had whipped through her hair moments ago. "But oblivion is not yours to command."

 Fear gnawed at her, but so did curiosity. She had expected nothingness, an end. But this... this was something else. Something she couldn't explain, couldn't understand.

"What is this place?" she asked with trembling voice.

"This place is known as the void. It's where the lost find themselves," he responded, speaking with an almost reverent tone, as if he were referring to something sacred. "It's a place for those who teeter on the edge, who seek the end but find something else instead."

A chill settled deep in her bones as she tried to process his words. "And you... what are you?"

"I am a keeper of sorts," he replied, his voice laced with a quiet, dangerous amusement. "A guardian of those who strayed too far from the light."

She stared at him, her mind reeling. "Why me?"

His smile faded, replaced by something darker, more menacing. "Because you called out," he responded, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I answered."

A cold, clammy feeling settled over her as his words sank in. The darkness around them seemed to pulse in rhythm with the dread growing in her chest. She had wanted to escape, to end the pain, but she had only traded one nightmare for another.

"Is there really no way out?" she asked again.

The man's expression softened, but it was a cruel kindness, a mockery of the hope that flickered faintly in her heart. "Once you are here," he said, "there is no leaving. This is your reality now."

Suddenly, her breath hitched in her throat as a sharp, searing pain shot through her body. It was as if a thousand needles had pierced her skin all at once. She gasped and clutched at her arms, only to find them dissolving beneath her touch. Her skin flaked away, disintegrating faster than she could blink, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in its place.

She screamed from the depths of her soul, but the sound was swallowed by the darkness around her. Panic seized her as she watched her body unravel before her eyes, the pain intensifying with every passing second. It was as if her very essence was being stripped away, layer by agonizing layer.

"What's happening to me?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling with terror. She could feel her legs giving way, crumbling into dust beneath her, leaving her helpless and suspended in this nightmarish void.

The man's expression remained unchanged, his dark eyes fixed on her with cold, detached interest. "Your body," he responded, his voice calm, almost clinical, "cannot survive here. It is too fragile, too bound to the mortal plane. This place strips away all that is unnecessary. It will break you down to dust, to release what lies beneath."

The pain was relentless, a white-hot agony that tore through her. But what was worse was the suffocating sensation that accompanied it. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs refused to work, each attempted breath turning into a futile gasp as they too began to disintegrate. Every instinct screamed at her to fight, to hold on, but there was nothing to grip, nothing to anchor herself to. Her hands were gone, her legs dissolved into nothing, and the rest of her was following suit.

Terror clawed at her throat, and she looked at the man, desperate for some form of mercy. "Please," she begged, her voice barely audible through the pain, "make it stop."

He shook his head slowly. "There is no stopping it." he said, almost gently.

"You can't keep me here," she choked out. "I don't belong here."

The keeper's expression remained unchanged, but there was something in his eyes—an ancient sadness, perhaps, or a cold resignation. "No one belongs here," he replied. "Yet here you are."

She stared up at him, her vision blurring with unshed tears. "I didn't mean for this. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted everything to stop."

His gaze softened, and for a brief moment, she saw something almost human in the depths of his black eyes. "The world above is filled with suffering," he murmured. "Pain that cuts deeper than any knife, wounds that never heal. But here... here there is no pain, no suffering. Only the endless void."

His words did nothing to soothe the terror gnawing at her insides. The void he spoke of, this endless nothingness, was not the peace she had sought. It was an existence without existence, a fate worse than the life she had tried to escape.

"Please," she begged, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. "There has to be a way out. I can't stay here."

The keeper knelt beside her, his presence cold and overwhelming. He reached out, his hand hovering just above her head as if to offer some comfort, but then he hesitated, drawing back. "There is no escape," he replied. "But there is a choice."

She looked up at him, hope flickering faintly in her chest. "What choice?"

He studied her for a long moment as if weighing her soul against some cosmic scale. "You can remain here," he said slowly, "lost in the void, untethered and unfeeling. Or..." His voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken option hanging in the air like a dark promise.

"Or what?" she pressed, desperate for anything that would save her from the abyss and disintegration.

The keeper's eyes darkened, and the air around them seemed to grow colder. "Or you can become like me," he added. "A guardian of this place. A keeper of souls. You will serve this place, and in return, you will be spared the fate of those who wander the void."

She recoiled at the thought, her mind rejecting the idea even as it tried to comprehend it. "I can't... I don't want to be like you."

He nodded slowly as if he had expected her answer. "Few do, at first. But in time, the void changes you. It strips away your humanity, starting from your body, your memories, until all that remains is the cold purpose of the keeper."

His words filled her with a new kind of dread, the kind that seeped into her bones and made her shiver uncontrollably. The thought of losing herself, of becoming nothing more than a shadow in this place, was too much to bear. But the idea of the chance to forget all of her memories tasted as sweet as honey.

"How soon will I forget who I was?"

"You won't forget," he said quietly. "Not at first. The memories will linger, like ghosts haunting the edges of your mind. But eventually, they will fade. They always do."

"I don't want this," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

 "No one does," he said, almost kindly. "But in the end, the choice is yours. Remain here, a part of the void, or take up the mantle and become something more. Decide, you don't have much time left to retain your body"

She looked around at the darkness stretching on forever, at the cold emptiness surrounding them, and at what was left of her body, her torso up.

 She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I'll do it," she said, the words feeling like a death sentence. "I'll become like you."

The keeper's expression didn't change, but she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—relief, perhaps, or maybe regret. He nodded once and then reached out, placing his hand on her chest, right over her heart.

The moment his hand touched her, she felt a coldness spread through her body, seeping into her bones, her soul. The darkness around them seemed to close in, pressing down on her, suffocating her, until all she could see, all she could feel, was the void and the fragments of the pieces of her coming back together like it never happened.

And then, just as quickly as it began, it was over. The coldness receded, the darkness lifted, and she was left standing in the same spot, but everything had changed.

She looked down at herself, at her hands, her body, but they no longer felt like hers. She was still herself, and yet she wasn't. She could feel the void inside her, a part of her now, and she knew that it would only grow, consuming more and more of what she once was.

The keeper stepped back, his gaze unreadable. "It is done," he said quietly. "You are now a guardian of this place."

She nodded, but the gesture felt hollow, mechanical. She had made her choice, but it didn't feel like a victory.