The Decay

'Shit, Shit'

Seven froze on the spot, holding his breath, not daring to make a sound. The darkness around him seemed to grow heavier, and in the distance, something moved slowly, methodically, trying to find its way to him.

Each sound it made, footsteps, shuffling, grew louder, closer, as if it was aware of his presence, inching its way toward him with chilling certainty. 

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last, but he remained perfectly still, praying that whatever it was wouldn't detect him.

The silence between the sounds felt endless, stretching the tension in the air to the breaking point.

A shriek tore through the air, sending cold dread down Seven's spine. His pulse raced, but he focused on deep breaths, trying to calm his shaking body and quiet the frantic thoughts in his mind.

He moved backward slowly, barely making a sound on the cold floor. Every muscle tensed, but he kept steady, reaching for the door handle. His fingers brushed the cool metal, his heart pounding, praying he wouldn't make a noise.

With a quick motion, Seven slammed the door shut, pressing his back against it to hold it in place. He braced himself, knowing the creature could easily push through if it wanted to.

The door held firm against Seven's weight, despite the shriek that resonated from the other side. It seemed the creature hadn't yet figured out where he was. Seven's muscles were taut, but he knew he couldn't stay here forever. This was a dead end.

'I need to get away'

His panic had clouded his judgment, and he realized he was in no state to stay fixed to the door, tense and waiting. He couldn't afford to be paralyzed by fear anymore. Slowly, he moved away from the door, feeling the pressure of his breath against his chest.

Every instinct told him to stay still, but he knew he couldn't. He needed to move, to escape. With a final glance at the door, he turned and began to retreat to the path he'd come from.

As he moved, he could feel the shape of the stairs with his hands, the very stairs he had fallen earlier. He was headed back up, the only path left that might offer him some escape.

Seven crawled up the stairs, hands gripping the cold steps. Kneeling, he moved slowly, focused on not losing his balance. His heart raced, but he tried to stay composed, each movement deliberate, each breath shallow, afraid any noise would give him away.

Finally, he reached the top. He knelt again, carefully patting the ground to check for any hidden dangers. Satisfied that the ground was stable, he moved to the right side, feeling along the wall. Staying low on all fours, he continued his slow progress, cautious of any other stairs or creatures that might be lurking in the darkness. 

This was the place where he had first found himself, the spot from where he had fallen from the stairs when he took his first step into the unknown.

He cautiously moved along the right wall and soon found another door. He knocked lightly three times, just to make sure there was nothing behind it.

He tried pulling the door, but it didn't budge. He pushed instead, and the door creaked open slowly. Seven didn't dare open it fully, he only cracked it just enough to peer into the darkness.

For a moment, he saw nothing. Then, he noticed a sliver of light falling on the ground to the left, coming from a hole. Heart racing, he moved closer, keeping his back to the wall for caution. As he approached, he realized the light was coming from a keyhole.

Seven knocked lightly on the door, hoping to hear something on the other side, but there was only silence. He then leaned closer, peering through the keyhole.

The view beyond was obscured by thick cobwebs. He tried blowing at them, but the webs were dense and didn't budge, only shifting slightly to let a bit more light slip through.

He quickly grabbed the old, rusted handle, trying to open the door. It was heavier than the others, making it harder to budge. The door creaked loudly as it slowly opened, sending a wave of fear through Seven.

He froze, his heart racing, terrified that the sound might alert the creature lurking downstairs.

The door creaked open with a groan, and a burst of light poured through, immediately assaulting Seven's senses.

His eyes, so accustomed to the suffocating darkness, took a moment to adjust to the sudden brilliance. The intensity of the light burned at his retinas, and he squinted, trying to shield his vision. It was as if the world had exploded into clarity, pushing back the shadows that had wrapped around him for so long.

When the harshness of the light finally began to soften, Seven blinked, his gaze lifting slowly. What greeted him was nothing like he had expected.

A vast expanse stretched before him, an open sky. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. The sky was a swirling blend of colors, a rich gradient from deep purples to brilliant oranges, soft pinks mingling with hues of blue. Small, fluffy clouds drifted lazily through the scene, casting gentle shadows on the earth below.

The colors were so vibrant, so alive, it felt as though the sky itself was breathing.

Seven stood frozen, his heart momentarily forgetting the fear that had driven him to the brink of madness. The beauty of the sky washed over him like a wave, sweeping away the suffocating panic that had clung to him.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt at peace. His breath slowed, and his pulse steadied. It was as if the sky had become a balm for his frayed nerves, easing the weight of his mind.

For a few seconds, Seven stood there, completely mesmerized. He had seen many skies before, back on Earth, but none quite like this. The sky before him seemed more vibrant, more real, as though it held a kind of magic that Earth's skies could never offer. The beauty was overwhelming, and in that fleeting moment, his thoughts of danger, of the creature lurking in the shadows below, vanished entirely.

It was as if the world outside of that door had momentarily become irrelevant. All that mattered was the sky, the colors, the clouds, a perfect, serene world that felt both foreign and comforting all at once.

But the peace, as fleeting as it was, didn't last. Reality crept back in, the cold rush of fear returning to Seven's chest. He realized, with a jolt, that he was still standing in the doorway, on the precipice of something unknown.

The beauty of the sky remained, but the awareness of the darkness behind him—the danger still lurking in the shadows, gradually began to seep back into his thoughts.

Seven immediately realized he was standing on a balcony, or maybe a terrace. He wasn't sure of the difference, and at this moment, it hardly mattered.

The solid ground beneath his feet, the open space around him, and the vast sky above told him one thing, he was no longer trapped in the suffocating darkness of that prison. 

Slowly, he turned and shut the door behind him, pressing it tightly closed as if sealing away the horrors that lurked on the other side. His fingers lingered on the old handle, his breath steadying as he took in his surroundings. Then, almost to himself, he muttered,

"This isn't Earth, is it?" 

Once, as a teenager, he had indulged in countless novels and games filled with stories of people being transported to other worlds. Isekai, the concept had always fascinated him. But now, standing in the middle of what should have been an exciting fantasy, he felt no joy.

No thrill of adventure. Only fear. Cold, unshakable fear.

Seven took a deep breath, forcing himself to push past the fear and take in his surroundings. As his vision adjusted, he noticed three more doors, two on his left and one on his right. 

His grip on the door handle tightened. He didn't know what lay behind them. More darkness? More creatures? Or maybe, just maybe, a way out? The uncertainty sent a shiver down his spine. 

For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the doors, debating his next move. Whatever was waiting behind them, he knew one thing for sure, there was no turning back.

Seven hesitated before stepping toward the first door on his left. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he slowly raised his hand and knocked, three light taps. 

He held his breath, listening intently. Silence. No movement, no response.

He swallowed and moved to the second door, repeating the same pattern. Again, nothing. 

Finally, he turned to the door on the right. As his knuckles met the wood, a faint, almost imperceptible sound came from the other side. His body tensed. Something was there.

Seven took a step back, his pulse quickening. Whatever was behind the right door, he wasn't ready to face it yet. He turned back to the first door on the left, gripping the handle tightly. 

Slowly, he pushed it open, allowing the light to seep into the darkness beyond. His eyes darted around, scanning every corner, every shadow, trying to assess if anything lurked inside.

The air was still, undisturbed, as if the room had been abandoned for a long time. 

He took a cautious step forward, peering inside. His body remained tense, ready to retreat at the first sign of danger.

A rancid stench hit Seven the moment he stepped inside, making his stomach churn. The air was thick with decay, and he instinctively covered his nose, trying not to gag.

In the center of the room, old dinner tables sat surrounded by chairs, their surfaces littered with rotting food. The far side resembled an old cafeteria or pub, where drinks might have once been served. But something was off. Though the place looked abandoned for years, half-eaten meals remained on the tables, covered in mold and filth, as if the people had left in a hurry.

Broken glass crunched under his foot. Shattered bottles lay scattered across the floor, yet the shelves behind the counter remained strangely untouched, their bottles still neatly lined up. The eerie contrast sent a shiver down his spine.

The stench was overwhelming. Seven gagged, his stomach twisting violently as he stumbled back. He barely managed to shut the door before the nausea became unbearable. The foul, putrid air clung to him, making it hard to breathe. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Swallowing down the lingering sickness, he turned his attention to the second door on the left. Steeling himself, he reached for the handle, hoping this room wouldn't be as revolting as the last.