Hidden Voices

Emma and Nathan stood in front of the library once again. It was another Saturday morning. The streets were quiet, and the building looked as still as ever. Nothing about it gave away the secrets hidden inside. But Emma knew what lay beyond the books and old shelves—another world, one full of buried memories, secret labs, and ghosts that never left.

"You sure about this?" Nathan asked, pulling his hoodie tighter around him.

Emma nodded. "We can't turn back now. She's still there. I can feel it."

They slipped in through the side entrance. It was the same path they had used the last time. Everything was just as they left it—the dust, the half-burnt files, the strange smell of chemicals still lingering in the air.

Emma led the way, flashlight in hand. The stairs groaned beneath their weight as they stepped into the hidden hallway again. No one had been here since they fled. The silence was heavier now, almost like the building itself was waiting for them.

"Here." Emma stopped in front of the room where the girl had appeared. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Nothing. The room was empty.

Nathan looked around. "Are you sure this is the place?"

"She was right here," Emma said. "She led me in. But she's gone again."

Nathan pointed to the wall. "What about that?"

A symbol had been scratched into the metal panel—faint, but visible. It looked like a spiral, drawn with shaky hands. Emma reached out to touch it. The metal felt very cold.

Suddenly, she gasped.

A flash. A flicker of memory—but it wasn't hers.

She was strapped to a table. Bright lights above her. Voices—distant, robotic. "Memory transfer incomplete. Subject resisting. Prepare containment." And then pain. Sharp pain in her head. Screaming. It wasn't hers.

Emma stumbled back.

"What happened?" Nathan asked, catching her.

"I saw her memory. Just for a second. She was in this room. They tried to take something from her. And she fought back."

Nathan looked around the space, nervous. "This place is cursed."

"No," Emma whispered. "It's crying."

They searched deeper into the room. Emma noticed a piece of metal sticking out from under a broken cabinet. She pulled at it until the cabinet shifted, revealing a trapdoor—small, rusted, and locked.

Nathan stepped closer. "That wasn't there before."

Emma knelt beside it. "It must lead somewhere. Somewhere she doesn't want forgotten."

Nathan handed her a hairpin from his pocket. "Think you can open it?"

Emma gave him a surprised look. "Since when do you carry hairpins?"

"It's yours actually, you left it at school. I meant to give it back but then I always forget."

It took a few tries, but the lock finally clicked. The hatch creaked open, revealing a narrow ladder leading into darkness.

Nathan turned on the flashlight he brought along. "I can't see the bottom."

Emma looked at him. "You going first, or should I?"

"I'll go," Nathan said, starting down the ladder. "But if anything jumps at me, I'm blaming you."

Emma followed close behind. The air grew colder the deeper they went. The smell changed too—less like dust, more like old metal and mold. The ladder led to a narrow hallway lined with small rooms. Each room had thick glass windows and sealed doors.

Emma's voice trembled. "This was a testing floor."

Nathan peeked into one of the rooms. A child-sized bed sat in the corner, and faded drawings were taped to the walls. "They kept kids down here?"

"Like me. Like her," Emma whispered.

They walked past more rooms. Most were empty, but a few had old machines inside—machines with wires, helmets, and blinking screens that no longer worked.

Emma stopped in front of a room with the number E-005 painted on the door. She touched it softly.

"This was hers."

The door opened with a loud groan. Inside was a small room—simple bed, table, and a cracked mirror on the wall. But what caught Emma's eye was the drawing on the table.

It was of a girl. Her eyes looked sad but strong. And underneath the drawing, one word was written in shaky handwriting:

"Remember."

Emma felt her knees weaken. "She wanted me to find this. She wanted someone to remember her."

Nathan walked over and picked up a small recorder beside the drawing. "Think it still works?"

He pressed play.

A soft voice filled the room. Young, tired and broken.

"My name was Clarise. I don't remember my last name anymore. They took it from me. They took a lot of things. But I left something behind. If someone finds this… if anyone is listening… don't let them do it again. Don't let them make another me."

The recording stopped.

Emma held the device tightly. "She was real. Clarise. That was her name."

Nathan sat on the bed, stunned. "They erased her. But she fought to stay. In pieces. In whispers. In you."

Emma looked up at him. "And now it's up to us. To stop them for good."

Nathan nodded slowly. "Then we bring the truth out. We don't hide. We don't run anymore."

They left the room together, Emma holding the recorder and the drawing close. As they climbed back up the ladder, the silence behind them seemed to shift.

Above ground, the library looked the same. But for Emma, nothing was the same anymore. She knew the truth now. Clarise's truth. Her truth.

And now, she had a mission.