Chapter 39: Echoes of the Forgotten

Elias stood in the dimly lit corridor, his breath steady but his mind racing. The visions had become more intense, more intrusive, as if the very fabric of reality was unraveling around him. The walls of the asylum seemed to shift subtly, the peeling paint revealing glimpses of something beneath—something ancient, something watching.

Dr. Vellman's voice echoed in his head, a whisper that refused to fade. "What you see is not a dream, Elias. It is a memory. A truth buried beneath the lies."

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. If that was true, then what was this place? Was it real, or just another illusion meant to keep him trapped?

A soft rustling sound made him turn sharply. Down the hallway, a figure emerged from the shadows—a woman in a tattered hospital gown, her long, disheveled hair obscuring her face. But Elias recognized her presence, the faint scent of lavender and something metallic lingering in the air.

"You're getting closer," she murmured. "But do you really want to know?"

Elias swallowed hard. "I have to."

The woman stepped closer, the dim light revealing hollow eyes, dark circles beneath them. "Then follow me. But know this: once you see, you can never unsee."

He hesitated for only a moment before nodding. The woman turned, gliding down the corridor with an eerie grace. The air grew colder, and the flickering lights above buzzed erratically. Each step felt heavier, as if unseen hands were trying to pull him back.

The door at the end of the hallway stood ajar, an oppressive darkness beyond its frame. The woman stopped before it, placing a trembling hand on the door. "Beyond here lies the truth. Are you ready?"

Elias exhaled, steeling himself. "I have no choice."

With a creak, the door swung open, and the shadows inside swallowed them whole.