Elara's legs felt heavy, but she forced herself to move forward. The corridor stretched endlessly before her, darker than ever. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Each step sounded like a drum, echoing through the mansion's impossible walls.
The whispers returned. "Elara… come back… stay…"
This time, she refused to listen. She closed her eyes and focused on one memory a memory of herself as a child, drawing in the attic of the mansion, happy and safe. She clung to it like a lifeline.
When she opened her eyes, the shadows along the walls recoiled slightly. Figures emerged from the darkness pale versions of herself, twisted and broken, their hollow eyes staring hungrily.
"You shouldn't be here," one of them whispered. Its voice was her own, but darker, full of fear and anger.
Elara clenched her fists. "I am here! And I remember now!"
She stepped forward, and the shadows hesitated. Her confidence seemed to burn through them like light.
The first shadow lunged, reaching for her with long, clawed fingers. Elara dodged quickly, remembering the hallway she had walked through as a child. She ran past the shadow, touching the floorboards as she went. Each step brought a memory she had forgotten a birthday, a hidden chest, a small locked attic door and each memory weakened the shadow.
"Remember your past! It's yours!" the child version of herself called from somewhere ahead.
Elara's vision flickered. She saw herself at different ages, trapped inside mirrors, behind walls, in hallways that twisted endlessly. She took a deep breath and forced herself to recall every detail every lost fragment of herself the door had taken.
The shadows hissed, screaming in voices she had never heard before. Some tried to grab her again, but she moved faster, faster than before.
The carved wooden door at the end of the corridor grew larger, looming, pulsating. Symbols on the surface twisted like they were alive, reaching out toward her.
Elara stopped a few steps away. She raised her hand toward the door, her fingers trembling. "I remember!" she shouted.
The shadows shrieked and recoiled completely, retreating into the walls and mirrors. The door shivered, pulsing violently as if it was angry.
But it didn't close. It waited.
A whisper drifted from the carvings, low and dangerous: "Good… but remembering isn't enough…"
Elara's breath came in short, sharp gasps. Her fingers were still inches from the door. She knew this was just the beginning.
And from somewhere behind the walls… a hundred small voices whispered in unison: "You can never leave… not fully…"
Elara's heart raced. She had fought the shadows… but the real challenge was still waiting behind the door.