Chapter 195 - The Burden of Remembering [15]

(POV – Emily Parker)

The exact moment Emily saw that face standing still in the hallway, she instinctively knew her worries weren't unfounded. A chill ran down her spine, freezing her for a second. Until then, she had chalked up the flickering lights to a simple momentary glitch in the electrical grid — maybe a temporary failure in the power systems.

Even then, the backup generators should have kicked in automatically, keeping everything running smoothly. Nothing should have really gone wrong. Yet, something was clearly off. The uneven glow of the lights and the silent presence in front of her made it clear this wasn't just a technical malfunction.

But Emily couldn't shake the unsettling suspicion that those lights had somehow been triggered by the man who had passed out in the bathroom. If that was really the case... was it just that? An unusual accident? No, Emily couldn't accept that idea so easily.

As she struggled to organize her thoughts, an image formed in her mind — a face she hoped never to see again. A face that, despite everything, still haunted her dreams. Rationally, she knew she was going too far. The dead don't come back to life — that was the natural course of things, the unquestionable order of reality.

But did that logic still hold, considering what they knew about the anomalies? Emily hesitated, a chill overtaking her. If it really was who she feared it was... then maybe that person had somehow prepared. Maybe, that day, a silent measure had been taken — a way to escape the inevitable fate of death.

While Emily's mind raced through every possibility, Laura's voice cut through beside her, urgent: "Boss, this is serious! Some of the cells are malfunctioning because of the sudden power outage!"

Emily bit her lower lip lightly at the words, a silent unease growing in her chest. No matter how much she tried to keep her composure, she couldn't shake the feeling that the universe always found a way to turn against her. Like everything was programmed to go wrong at the worst possible moment.

Still, she knew she couldn't give in to that kind of thinking now. This was no time to hesitate. Visitor safety came first. Several protocols had been put in place precisely to deal with emergencies like this. Methods, instructions, contingencies — none were lacking. But the real problem... was what had escaped into the hallway. The anomaly.

At the same time, Laura cast a subtle but sharp glance down the long corridor ahead. Her expression, though controlled, carried the gravity of the situation. In a firm but calm tone, she said: "I'm starting evacuation protocol. Priority now is getting all civilians safely out of the facility. Only then can we focus on countermeasures"

At Laura's words, Emily simply nodded silently. Deep down, that was exactly what she had planned to do. Yet, for a brief moment, her mind drifted back to the anomaly that had suddenly appeared in the hallway just moments ago.

Classified as Luminis, the anomaly — despite the shock of its sudden appearance — was considered relatively easy to contain. Its containment protocol was simple, almost trivial compared to other entities: just make sure something — or someone — was constantly watching its true form.

That "true form" was nothing more than a sheet of paper, seemingly harmless, with a grotesque drawing: an unnaturally wide mouth stretched into an unnatural grin, and two eyes so intensely red they looked bloodshot, pulsing with a silent, malevolent presence. Even motionless, the mere sight of the image was enough to cause discomfort — as if the paper was somehow looking back.

Initially, it was believed the anomaly could be contained as long as someone watched it directly, keeping it confined to the sheet of paper. But later findings revealed a more crucial truth: the anomaly only needed to believe it was being watched for the containment effect to remain active.

Meaning even cameras that were off or transmitting to empty rooms — with no actual person watching — would suffice, as long as the entity assumed an observer was present. This detail completely changed how the containment mechanism was understood, adding a psychological layer to the anomaly's behavior.

For this reason, dozens of cameras were installed in the anomaly's cell, all running nonstop, 24/7. Each was equipped with an internal emergency generator, capable of keeping it running for up to a full month without external power.

The system was designed to ensure nothing went unnoticed — no failure, no unusual movement. Yet, considering the anomaly was now outside the cell, roaming the hallway, Emily couldn't shake the feeling something had gone wrong. Her mind kept returning to the cameras.

As Emily's thoughts began to take shape, two soft but insistent knocks echoed against the glass. She slowly lifted her gaze, meeting the cold, indifferent eyes of the [Angel of Death]. For a brief moment, they locked eyes — a silence heavy with tension that seemed to freeze time.

Then, the lights went out again, plunging everything into near palpable darkness. In the hallway beyond the door, visitors began murmuring again, their voices trembling, echoing off the dark walls with a silent fear, as if the very shadows could swallow their hopes.

Emily looked away once more to the dark hallway, where a wide, distorted mouth stood out, accompanied by enormous, bloodshot red eyes that seemed to pierce her soul. This time, the sinister face was much closer than before, almost as if it could reach out and touch her.

A chill ran down her spine. Just as that terrifying thought crossed her mind, the lights abruptly came back on, illuminating the room and dispelling the darkness that seemed to swallow everything around.

At that moment, the visitors started to realize something was wrong. Their voices, which had sounded calm before, now echoed with desperation, full of anxiety and urgency. One of them shouted, nearly breathless: "Didn't that... look way closer than before?"

Another voice echoed from the back, this one female, filled with curiosity and a slight tone of apprehension: "Why are the lights going off and on like that? Is this still part of the exhibit? Or is... that just a hologram?"

The sound of the voice mixed with the intermittent buzzing of the lights, casting flickering shadows on the walls, creating a strange, unstable feeling in the room.

Murmurs hung in the air, filled with growing unease. The visitors began losing their composure, their whispers turning into shaky, anxious voices, foreshadowing impending despair. But Emily remained oblivious to the turmoil around her.

In her mind, a dark thought dominated: next time the lights went out, that thing would get them. As far as Emily knew, there were no traces — no bodies, no sign of the victims to tell a story. When that entity came close, absolute silence was the only certainty.

What exactly happened? That remained a deep mystery to the organization. All they had were records of unexplained disappearances, as if people were simply wiped from existence, as if they had never been there.

Knowing this, Emily's reasoning was instant — quick, simple, and incredibly efficient. Without hesitation, she stepped up to the glass, standing firm in front of the [Angel of Death].

For several seconds, her eyes locked with the anomaly's, an intense, meaningful gaze. Then, with silent determination, Emily turned and walked toward the door leading to the cell of the [Angel of Death] and her sisters, each step echoing purposefully down the quiet hallway.

The next moment, Emily raised her gaze, focusing firmly on the visitors. Taking a deep breath, her voice rang out clear and authoritative, capturing everyone's attention: "Please, listen up!" she called, with a tone that brooked no disagreement.

Immediately, the visitors turned to her, their faces a mix of curiosity and apprehension: "Everyone, please enter the containment room" Emily ordered, keeping her voice steady and controlled: "One at a time, no pushing"

Her command brought a heavy, expectant silence, broken only by cautious, hesitant footsteps as each visitor began moving slowly toward the room. The air felt heavier, as if the entire space was holding its breath.

Even with apparent obedience and orderly movement, Emily clearly noticed the unease hanging in the air — slight trembling hands, exchanged looks, and almost imperceptible hesitations with each step.

As she expected, doubt soon surfaced. The voice came from a man in the middle of the group, tense and distrustful: "Miss Emily, are you sure you can guarantee our safety if we go into the cell?" he asked, eyes fixed on her, searching for any sign of hesitation: "Aren't anomalies dangerous? That's what you told us before..."

Faced with the question, Emily hesitated for a moment. Even if she could come up with a convincing answer, would it really be enough to make them believe her? Memories came flooding back — images of panic, screams, destruction.

The visitors' collective memory was marked by tragedies caused by anomalies. Dozens of deaths, unexplained disappearances, outbreaks of uncontrollable violence... How could they trust after all that? Now they remembered. And with that memory came fear, the instinct for self-preservation.

Was there any way to convince them that at least those four anomalies behind the glass were safe? That they posed no threat? Emily knew she was trying to put out a fire with words, and maybe it wasn't enough.

But just as Emily was still pondering that, a family slowly approached. It was a couple — a man and a woman — accompanied by a little girl who seemed to be their daughter. Emily blinked, visibly surprised to recognize them. The reason was simple: she'd seen them before.

Not in person, but their faces were etched in her memory, like fragments of a recent past she couldn't ignore. It was the same family Emily had seen at the burger joint during the anomalous mist outbreak. She widened her eyes, surprised to recognize them.

"You...?" Emily exclaimed, voice full of astonishment: "I remember you..."

With a slight smile at the corner of his lips, the man replied, in a cordial and almost playful tone: "Hello, Miss Emily. You probably already know us, although we haven't really had the pleasure of meeting you. Honestly, thank you for helping us that day. If it weren't for the guidance you gave us, we'd probably have done something crazy... like walking right into that mist without thinking twice"

Emily was momentarily at a loss for words. It was the first time someone thanked her for something like that. Usually, people didn't even remember what had happened — and for that reason, there was no reason to thank her. This was new.

She opened her mouth, about to respond, but had no time. Before a word could escape, the soft voice of a little child, clutching her mother's hand tightly, echoed gently, almost like a whisper breaking the heavy silence.

"Daddy, Mommy, hurry up! I want to see big sister again!" the little girl exclaimed, eyes shining and excitement overflowing in her voice, like she was going to visit a dear friend after a long time.

She bounced beside her parents, holding their hands tightly, a wide smile lighting up her face. The anticipation in her eyes was pure and contagious, reflecting the genuine affection she felt for the one she called sister.

At the same time, the crowd fell silent, all eyes fixed on the strange scene unfolding before them. The air grew thick with tension and confusion, as people glanced at each other, unsure how to react. A heavy silence hung, broken only by the quiet whisper of doubt and fear.

Then, as the family entered the cell, one by one, the visitors began to move forward hesitantly, guided by a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Slowly, they entered the space meant for the anomalies — beings who looked disturbingly human but carried an unsettling aura, a subtle but undeniable sign that they were not human.

But deep down, everyone there knew there was no other choice. In the end, they either went into the cell—or stayed in the hallway, where what awaited them was something far worse. When the light flickered again, all they would see was that sinister face, with lips grotesquely twisted into a wide, disturbing smile that seemed to devour the very darkness around it.