Chapter 8: What Follows
Survivor
The hospital room was quiet.
Too quiet for Neha.
Even the beeping machines and soft footsteps in the hallway felt distant — like echoes in a dream.
She sat by the window, wrapped in a thick blanket, staring out at the snowy Norwegian mountains.
Safe.
That's what they told her.
She was "safe" now.
But the word meant nothing.
Not after what she'd seen.
What she'd done.
What she might have brought back.
**
Questions Without Answers
Doctors came and went.
Psychologists.
Scientists.
Government people.
All with kind faces and fake concern.
They asked her questions:
"What happened at the research base?"
"How did you survive?"
"Are you experiencing any hallucinations?"
Neha answered what she could.
She told them about the organism.
The memories.
The deaths.
The sacrifice.
But most of them just nodded, took notes, and gave her more sedatives.
No one believed her.
Except one.
**
The Stranger
His name was Dr. Elias Brenner, a biologist from Oslo.
Mid-fifties, tall, grey-haired, always wore a dark scarf even indoors.
He didn't carry a clipboard.
He didn't smile much.
He only asked one question.
"Did it speak to you?"
Neha's fingers tightened around her blanket.
She met his eyes. "Yes."
"What did it say?"
She hesitated. "It used my voice. And Rishi's. And… others. It tried to make me stop. To join it."
Dr. Brenner nodded slowly.
He opened a leather folder and placed a photo on the table.
"Do you recognize this?"
Neha looked.
It was a blurry black-and-white image of a structure — part steel, part ice — buried deep in a glacier.
A shape pulsed faintly in the center.
She felt her stomach drop.
"That's it," she whispered. "That's the Core."
Brenner's eyes darkened. "We found the ruins. But something's missing."
**
Missing Pieces
The research team that went to recover the remains reported strange signals near the site.
Unusual magnetic interference.
And heat.
Tiny pulses of heat, under meters of solid ice.
The kind that shouldn't exist.
Neha shivered.
"You think it's still alive?"
Brenner didn't answer directly.
Instead, he said, "Organisms don't die the way we do. Some enter states of dormancy. Especially in extreme cold. They wait."
Neha looked out the window again.
A snowflake hit the glass.
Then another.
Then hundreds.
A blizzard was forming.
**
Unwelcome Whispers
That night, Neha couldn't sleep.
She kept hearing noises.
Not from the hospital — but from inside her head.
Footsteps on snow.
Soft breathing.
A voice, just behind her ear.
"You left me…"
She sat up, gasping.
Her heart thundered.
She grabbed her journal and flashlight, flipping to the pages she'd written about Rishi's final moments.
But something was wrong.
His name had been scribbled over.
Dozens of times.
Like someone had erased it.
Then, from the hallway, she heard humming.
A lullaby.
One her mother used to sing.
Neha stepped outside.
The hallway was empty.
Except…
At the far end stood a child.
Barefoot.
Smiling.
Mouth open too wide.
Neha blinked.
Gone.
**
No Escape
The next morning, she demanded to be discharged.
"I need to leave," she told the doctor.
"But you're not fully recovered—"
"I said, I need to leave."
They argued.
Finally, she signed a waiver and left on her own.
She had to get away.
From the hospital.
From the city.
From the memories.
But as she packed her bag, she noticed something strange:
All her photos — family, friends, old teammates — had faint shadows behind them.
Faint… copies.
Like double exposures.
Like something was watching through their eyes.
**
The Return
Neha rented a small cabin far from the town, nestled deep in the woods.
No power. No internet.
Just firewood and silence.
She thought isolation would help.
It didn't.
The voices followed her.
At first, only in dreams.
Then while she was awake.
She began to see Rishi.
Not clearly.
Just flashes.
A reflection in the window.
A figure in the trees.
Always watching.
And always silent.
Until one night, she woke to find footprints in the snow — leading into her cabin.
But never out.
**
The Tapes
Before leaving the hospital, Dr. Brenner had given her a USB drive.
"It's from the old base," he'd said. "Recovered audio logs. You might want to listen."
Neha finally plugged it into her recorder.
The first few files were static.
Then a voice — clear and panicked.
"Day 38. The subject escaped containment. It's no longer mimicking. It's… becoming. Each time it copies, it learns. It doesn't just remember. It evolves."
Next file:
"It's inside us. Inside our minds. It wears our thoughts like clothes. You won't know who's real anymore. Even I'm not sure I'm still me…"
The final recording ended in screaming.
Then silence.
Neha deleted the files.
She couldn't listen again.
She already knew it was true.
**
The Final Clue
Days passed.
Or maybe weeks.
Time didn't feel real anymore.
Neha started writing again — anything to keep her grounded.
But one morning, her journal was gone.
In its place: a single note, scrawled in her own handwriting.
"Come back. You never left."
The paper was damp.
With melted ice.
Neha stood, heart pounding.
And saw a trail of wet footprints leading out the door — into the forest.
She didn't want to follow.
But something inside her moved.
Compelled her.
The same instinct that had kept her alive before.
She grabbed her coat.
And stepped into the snow.
**
To Be Continued…