Corridors. Walls. Less light.
— Elly… — Lydia spoke as if walking into water. — We…
— We're almost at the door.
— She was mine…
— I know.
Step. Wall.
— There was a door here — said Elly.
— What?
— I know. I closed it. There was…
They turned. Another door led the wrong way. The windows were wrong. The crack in the floor was familiar, but… not in the right place.
— We won't get out — Elly exhaled.
— Did he lock us in?
— No. Not locked — put on display. Like mice in a cage, to be watched.
The house no longer breathed. It had shrunk. It was waiting. Not for them. For their decisions.
They walked. Then turned. Walked again. But the exit never came closer.
No stairs. No doors. Just the same turns, the same walls. As if the house was a circle, but inside it wasn't a center — it was a trap.
Elly was silent. Lydia breathed heavily.
— He's still here — she whispered. — I can feel him. He's watching.
— He's waiting.
— For what?
Elly didn't answer. She didn't know herself.
The voice spoke first.
At first, it was as if Lydia called herself:
— You promised not to leave.
Lydia flinched.
— What?
— I… I heard it. That was me… That was her…
— I didn't promise! — she suddenly exhaled too loudly. — I just wanted…
Silence. Then quietly, in a man's voice:
— Elly. How long will you keep pretending to matter?
Elly stopped.The voice wasn't hers. And not anyone else's exactly. Just… a question she had heard from herself. Not aloud. But often.
— Journals, maps, paths… Who needs them, except you?
She swallowed.
— I do it because I love it. Because I can. Because…
— Because there's no one else to do it?
Lydia turned.
— Did you hear that?
— What?
— He's speaking. To me. In my face. In my voice.
They stood in the middle of an empty hallway. The shadows were even. But the walls had slightly shifted, as if the house was breathing.
— You could've held her back — Lydia again.
— I couldn't — she whispered, covering her ears.
— What if you had said something right away? What if you hadn't been afraid? What if you hadn't listened to others?
— Shut up. You're not her.
— I'm you. Just honest.
Lydia dropped to her knees, hands pressed to her temples. Elly came over, crouched beside her.
— Look at me. That's not you talking. That's not her.
— I know. But… he's talking about her, about them, I don't want to hear…
— He heard it. From the first day. Everything we never said, he knows. And now he's throwing it back.
Elly stood. Walked to the nearest door.
— We can't stay still. The longer we're silent, the louder he gets.
— What if he's not in the walls? — asked Lydia. — What if he's in us?
— Then all we have is each other. If he's in you, I won't let go. If he's in me, stop me.
They ran.
First from the walls. Then from the voices. Then from themselves. Doors flashed by on the left, on the right. They all looked the same, but none led to the light. Only the one at the end of the hallway, slightly open, like a trap's mouth. They didn't choose. They just rushed in. Elly first. Lydia behind her.
The hit came from the side, sudden. A fist, covered in flesh, but moving like a puppet's jointed mechanism.
Elly slid down, pivoted, caught Lydia's wrist, yanked her aside.
— DOWNTheir bodies rolled across the floor. The wooden boards squealed in protest.
— What is that…
— Get the light — Elly exhaled, rising. — He's here.
A figure stood in the doorway. Human. Too symmetrical.
— Welcome home — he said.
It was a villager. One of the ones who had vanished. His face was grey like ash, but the smile was alive, twisted, like joy glued together from someone else's emotions.
He struck first. A short axe straight to the chest. Elly jumped aside, slid along the wall, and struck his joint. He didn't scream. Just kept coming.
— He doesn't feel pain — she shouted.
Lydia activated the light. The villager recoiled, his skin beginning to peel. He crumbled. And in his place — Yaren.
With that same knife. With those same moves. He attacked along the same lines as in the camp.
— It's him! — Lydia cried out.
— No! It's worse!
Yaren struck at her knee. Elly caught the blade on the back of her dagger, but couldn't dodge the second blow to her shoulder.
— AAAH — short and sharp.
Blood. Burn. He knew where to hit. Lydia reached out, touched the wound. Light passed through the skin. The tissue began to close.
— One more hit and I won't make it in time!
Yaren vanished.
Now — Henn. With the axe. With precision. Silent, fast, brutal. Elly barely dodged. The blow hit her ribs, stole her breath.
— Lydia!
— GOT IT — a shout. Light.
Henn lit up, his face darkened like clay, cracked. He backed off. Then… Sala. Slow. With the amulet. Lydia froze.
— Not her. Not her. Not…
But Sala stepped closer. Reached out.
— I'm here — she said. Sala's voice. Sala's tone. Only the eyes were Moroi.
Elly stepped between them.
— No.
— Move — whispered Sala. — I just want to…
Lydia was shaking. Her staff slipped.
— I… I can't.
— YES YOU CAN — shouted Elly. — That's not her! She died in your arms!
— I love her…
— He's feeding on you!
Sala leapt. Not like a warrior. Like hunger. Elly struck her chest — precise, direct, at the heart.
The body collapsed. Dust. Silence. Only Lydia's breathing — ragged, broken.
He doesn't just kill. He makes you strike those you can't forget.
He doesn't seek revenge. He teaches you to regret.I don't want to learn anymore.
And in that moment the walls trembled. Something deeper awakened. Moroi grew angry. He was not sated. But he wasn't playing anymore.
Strike. Wound. Healing.
Strike. Wound. Healing.
The skin on her arms throbbed from exhaustion. Every scratch no longer hurt — it burned, like fire crawling from within. She breathed through wheezing. Each movement echoed in her side, shoulder, thigh. Blood ran down her arm, sticking to her palm like wax.Lydia breathed as if each word pulled air from her deepest cells. Shadows under her eyes, trembling fingers, lips dry. But she reached out. Again. And again.
Another one stood before them. A missing villager. Face like the living, skin like the dead. He moved without emotion, his arm like an axe, legs like trees.
Elly rushed forward, caught his arm, struck the solar plexus, he bent — but didn't fall. She jumped back too late. Another blow to the ribs — crack.
— DAMN — she dropped to her knees.
Lydia rushed up, light in her hands, fast, trembling.
— Hold on!
The villager dissolved. Yaren again.
— You trusted me — he said. He attacked, quick, vicious. Struck at her legs, knocked her off balance. Elly spun on her heel, caught the blade, tore her thigh muscle.
— AAH — she exhaled, collapsed. — Lydia!
Light again. But weaker now. Yaren vanished. Sala again.
Elly couldn't strike. She looked. Just looked.
— You didn't save her — whispered Sala. Lydia froze.
— Lydia! Light! NOW!
She snapped out of it. A burst of light. Sala disappeared.
Then came Henn. Deaf. Wordless. One strike, two. Elly on her hands. Blood dripping. Breath uneven.
— Lydia… I can't…
— I'm here.
Light. But barely. Elly stood, swaying. Moroi didn't retreat. He didn't attack. He just… waited.
— That's it… — she exhaled. — I'm out.
Elly tried to rise. Her hands trembled. Head spinning. She couldn't hold her weapon anymore, only lift it by reflex.
— I… I can still…
— No — said Lydia.And something in her voice was too calm. And in that stillness, Lydia took a step forward, as if clearing space.
— Lydia?
She closed her eyes. And inhaled. The mana left inside — like the last drop from a spring. It didn't pulse, didn't flow. It was frozen in her chest, tight, heavy. Lydia pressed a hand to herself, as if not wanting to let go.
— We won't kill him.
— Not now, no. But… we can still…
— Elly. He's not an enemy to defeat. He's pain to survive. And I have no strength left to survive it. I can't leave them here. I can't let her go. I hear them.
Elly weakly shook her head.
— We're together…
— No. I stayed there. In that room. With her. Everything else is just leftovers.
She straightened. The staff, barely glowing, flared with white. Mana rose from the ground up. The veins on her arms lit up like ice cracks. Moroi curled into a ball from the light.
Elly jerked forward.
— No. Don't. Wait! You… you don't have to…
— I know. — She raised her hand. — I choose.
Mana pulled from her chest, her gut, her fingers — everything she had. The light stretched, curled, and in that glow there was no anger, no fear. Only farewell.
Elly reached for her.
— DON'T DO THIS!
— Thank you for being with me — said Lydia.And struck. The light, like a comet, shot from her palm and hit Elly in the chest. She flew back.
The walls stretched like webbing, alive, trying to hold her. Elly hit the floor, rolled…
A second burst of light. A scream. The air turned inside out. She was flung back again. The walls stretched, reached for her like fabric, but the light burned through them. She clawed at the floor, lunged forward…and flew out.