Chapter Three: The Abyss in the Fog

Lin Ruo stumbled from the library, the fog slamming into her like a wall, swallowing her whole. She gasped, wrist burning as if branded. The flashlight's beam scattered uselessly in the murk. Silence reigned—no wind, only her footsteps crunching gravel like a hollow stage.

She didn't know where to run; the inn's direction blurred, Wuyin Town erased by the haze. She stopped, straining to orient herself, but whispers rose—countless voices murmuring, chilling her spine. She clutched her ears; the sound drilled deeper.

"Don't look back…"A raspy voice cut through the fog, sharp as if beside her. She whirled, light sweeping—nothing. It spoke again: "Don't look back, it's watching."She stiffened, pulse racing. A faint rustle sounded behind her—like fabric dragging. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself forward, but the noise grew closer, something slithering in pursuit.

The fog thickened, viscous as liquid, clogging her lungs with a rotting sweetness. She glanced down; the gravel vanished, replaced by a drenched surface—black fluid seeped from the mist, creeping up her shoes. She shook it off, but it clung like a living thing, icy cold.

"Lin Ruo…"Her name echoed, a chorus from the haze. She looked up; a shadow emerged—faceless, head tilted, arms trailing. She knew it from the library. It advanced, deliberate, bones snapping with each step.

She turned and ran, the light flailing, revealing warped trees melting into spirals, streetlamps twisted, glowing red. Her breath burned, but the shadow's steps shadowed her, tauntingly close.

The ground gave way. She plummeted, screaming, flashlight slipping as darkness engulfed her. She hit something hard, pain exploding through her bones, then blacked out.

Lin Ruo awoke, head splitting. She opened her eyes to dimness, faint light filtering through fog above. She touched the ground—cold, soft, like decayed earth. Standing, she realized she was in a deep pit, its black walls scarred with claw marks. Above, the fog churned, alive.

"What…" Her voice echoed, hollow. Her wrist pulsed; the symbol glowed faintly, breathing. She checked her bag—torn but intact, the log scattered. She gathered it; the last page now read: You're back.

Her heart skipped. Back? She'd never been here, yet the words stirred a vague familiarity. She shook it off, hearing heavy footsteps dragging closer.

She pressed against the wall, clutching the log. A shadow loomed from the mist—tall, faceless, arms dragging. It stopped, watching her.

"Who are you?" she yelled, voice shaking. "What do you want?"It pointed at her wrist; the symbol flared, searing. Her mind flashed—childhood, Wuyin Town, fog, a faceless figure with a book. She snapped back; it lunged, hand outstretched. "Stop!" she shouted.It halted, head tilted. She gasped, wrist glowing in sync with her command.

A roar erupted—bestial, anguished. The shadow recoiled, vanishing. More noises—crawling beneath. A pale hand burst from the soil, clawing at her. She screamed, leaping back as it retreated.

The walls trembled. She turned; the claw marks bled black, tracing the symbol. It glowed, twisting, crawling onto her skin, stacking over her mark, burning. Her mind flashed—standing in this pit, hands reaching. She shook it off, the memory too real.

"Lin Ruo…"A deep voice rumbled from the pit's depths. She turned; a shadow stood, faceless, waiting. Hands erupted—pale, mangled, clawing up. One grabbed her shoe; she kicked free, but more surged. The shadow pointed: "Speak it."

Her head spun. Speak what? It lunged; she choked, throat sealed. A roar shook the pit; the hands retreated, the shadow froze. Footsteps approached—a tall figure emerged, back turned, holding a crimson book. It faced her—no face.

"You shouldn't have come back," it said, voices layered. "You belong here."It raised the book; page thirteen bled red script. Her vision blurred: You are the key.The ground split; a massive hand—pale, twisted—lunged. She dodged, but it tore her bag, seizing the log. The page bled: You've already begun.The figure roared, charging. Fog flooded the pit, swallowing her as her body tore apart, consciousness fading.