Beneath the Surface

Cipher's breathing was uneven as he slowed his pace, ducking into a dimly lit alley. The air was thick with the stench of damp concrete and something metallic—blood, maybe. He pressed his back against the cold wall, trying to still his hammering heart. The city still buzzed beyond the alley, oblivious to the way reality had just cracked for him.

What was happening to him? What had he seen? And who—no, what—was watching him?

His phone vibrated again. Another message from the unknown number.

Unknown Number: You need to listen.

Cipher clenched his jaw. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed back.

Cipher: Tell me what's happening.

A pause. Then:

Unknown Number: Not here. They can intercept this. You need to move. There's a place. Coordinates incoming.

Before he could reply, another message appeared, but it wasn't a text. A location pin. Somewhere near the city's industrial district, past the neon-lit skyscrapers and into the old ruins of factories left to decay.

Cipher hesitated. His instincts screamed at him not to trust an anonymous message, but what choice did he have? Every logical explanation for what he had seen was unraveling, and the only person acknowledging it was a faceless presence behind a screen.

With a deep breath, he pushed himself off the wall and began walking. The further he moved from the city center, the fewer people he saw. The glow of neon signs faded into the distance, replaced by flickering streetlights barely clinging to life. Shadows stretched unnaturally, like they had a will of their own.

His phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: Keep moving. Don't look back.

Cipher froze.

His muscles tensed involuntarily. The air behind him felt heavier, colder. Every instinct told him that if he turned around, he wouldn't like what he saw.

A deep, hollow breath echoed from the alley he had just passed.

Something was there.

Cipher swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his legs to move. Faster now. His heart pounded with every step, but he kept his gaze forward. The air thickened with something unseen, pressing against his skin like static electricity.

Then, another sound—closer this time. A dragging noise, slow and deliberate.

He couldn't take it anymore.

His head snapped back, eyes darting to the alley.

Nothing.

Just darkness.

But something was wrong. The shadows looked… off. They were stretched too far, creeping up the walls in unnatural angles. And then, just for a fraction of a second, he saw it—a shape. Featureless. Watching.

Cipher turned and ran.

The streets blurred as he sprinted through the abandoned district. His breath burned in his lungs, his mind screaming at him to move faster. The location was close. A rundown warehouse loomed ahead, its massive steel doors rusted and barely hanging onto their hinges.

His phone buzzed one more time.

Unknown Number: Inside. Now.

He didn't hesitate. He grabbed the edge of the door and pulled, slipping inside just as the weight of something unseen pressed against the world outside.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

For a moment, all he could hear was his own breathing. Then—

A soft click.

Lights flickered on, revealing a vast space filled with rusted machinery, stacks of old crates, and a single figure standing in the center of the room. A woman, clad in dark clothing, her sharp gaze locked onto him.

"Cipher Voss," she said, not as a question, but a confirmation.

Cipher straightened, still catching his breath. "Who are you?"

The woman tilted her head slightly. "Someone who knows what you've seen. And why you can't unsee it."

Cipher's stomach twisted. "That… thing out there. The distortion. What is it?"

She sighed, stepping closer. "You're caught between two realities now. One that you know—and one that's bleeding through. They know you've seen it, and they won't let you walk away."

Cipher clenched his fists. "Who's 'they'?"

The woman's eyes darkened. "You'll find out soon enough. But first, we need to get you out of here. Before they do."

Outside, the wind howled through the broken windows, carrying something far more sinister than just the night air.

Something was coming.