The air in the narrow corridor was suffocating, damp with the smell of rust and rot, as though the walls themselves were breathing decay. Ethan's footsteps splashed against the wet concrete as he chased after the mysterious girl, his heart hammering like war drums. The crimson ribbon pulsed faintly in his hand, beating like a second heart. He didn't know why he clung to it, but deep down he knew—losing it meant death.
The girl leading him—Selene—moved with an unnatural grace. Her slender body slid through the shadows as if she belonged to them, her dark hair whipping behind her every time they turned a corner. Her voice, soft yet commanding, echoed in the tunnel:"Stay close. Don't stop, no matter what you hear."
Ethan didn't argue. His body was on the verge of collapse, lungs burning, but something stronger than fear kept him following her.
"Who the hell are you?"His voice cracked. "What was that thing back on the platform? Why does it feel like all of this is after me?"
She didn't answer right away. Her fingers traced the cracked walls, as though she could sense the city's heartbeat. At last, she whispered:"My name is Selene. And you… you don't belong here. Not yet."
Ethan froze mid-stride. "What?!" His breath hitched. "How do you even know my name?"
She turned to him, her piercing blue eyes catching the faint glow of the ribbon in his hand. A sad smile tugged at her lips—more sorrow than mockery."The city knows. Everyone who steps inside it… is written, sooner or later."
A cold shiver pierced Ethan's spine. He wanted to call her insane, to dismiss this as nonsense. But then the laughter returned—low, twisted chuckles reverberating through the darkness. The same laugh he'd heard on the platform.
The walls began to tremble. From the cracks, black arms slithered out—long, skeletal fingers clawing at the stone as they reached for him. Dozens, hundreds of shadowy hands emerged in unison, whispering his name in a chorus of rotten voices:"Eeeethan… Eeeethan…"
Selene gripped his hand with a strength that shocked him, shouting:"Run!"
They bolted, the sound of their footsteps slapping the damp floor mixing with the hiss of shadows swarming behind them. Ethan's lungs screamed, every muscle begged for relief, but he couldn't—wouldn't—let go of her hand.
After what felt like hours of running, they burst into a cavernous underground hall. Stone pillars rose like broken teeth from the earth. Scattered across the floor were remnants of lives long abandoned: torn suitcases, single shoes, faded family photos. Every object was a story of someone who hadn't made it out.
Selene stopped abruptly, her grip still locked around his hand. Her voice cut sharp through the silence:"Don't touch anything here."
Ethan's eyes fell on a small teddy bear lying at his feet, its glassy eyes staring up at him. He felt a strange pull toward it, as if the toy itself was calling his name."Why not?" he asked hoarsely.
She lifted her chin toward the walls. At first, he saw nothing unusual. But then his blood froze.
Names. Hundreds of names carved into the stone, each etched beside a date. Some so old that time had eroded half the letters. Others fresh, carved with trembling hands.
And then—he saw it.His name. Ethan Cole.Chiseled deep into the stone. Beside it, today's date.
His knees buckled. Air fled his lungs as if the city itself was stealing his breath. "No… No, that's impossible. I'm alive. This is just a nightmare."
Selene stepped closer, her voice carrying a mournful weight. "The city doesn't make mistakes. Once it writes your name, your story begins."
"I didn't choose this!" Ethan shouted, voice cracking with panic.
Before Selene could answer, a muffled howl rolled out from the tunnels. The shadows had followed. They poured into the chamber, swollen and grotesque. Faces twisted in agony floated within the darkness, screaming silently as they surged forward.
Selene yanked his hand, pulling him toward a crumbling staircase. "Up! Now!"
The floor quaked as the swarm advanced. The names on the walls began to melt into the black tide, letters dissolving into ink. Ethan's own name bled first, dripping like tar.
Terror rooted him in place. His legs refused to move. He would have fallen if Selene hadn't wrapped an arm firmly around his waist, hauling him forward. For a brief heartbeat, their eyes met. Amid the horror, something flickered there—hope. Fragile, but real.
The stairs shuddered and split apart behind them, stones crashing into the abyss below. The shadows hesitated, retreating for now, their laughter lingering like a curse.
Gasping for breath, Ethan collapsed at the top of the stairs. His hand trembled around the crimson ribbon, its glow flickering erratically. He was about to speak when a sound shattered the silence—
A chime.
His phone. The phone he'd sworn had died hours ago.
With dread coiling in his stomach, Ethan pulled it out. The screen was cracked, the battery icon flashing red. A single notification blinked.
One new message.
He opened it with shaking hands. Two words appeared, stark against the dark screen.
"Your death is written."
the cursed phone + the city's prophecy.