...~○○◇○○~... ...•••♡•••... ● • Satoru's eyes narrowed, the faint glow of streetlights painting harsh shadows along the alley. His gaze locked onto a figure, a girl, stumbling as she fled, panic etched in every jerky movement. Behind her, a man slithered from the darkness, his gait too calm and too deliberate.

Without hesitation, Satoru stepped forward, his frame cutting clean through the tension like a blade. He moved in front of the girl, arm outstretched protectively, guiding her behind him with practiced ease.

“Back off,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in velvetfirm, cold, and unyielding.

The man froze, his leer faltering. After a tense beat, he melted into the shadows, disappearing like smoke in the wind. The girl clung to Satoru’s sleeve, her breath ragged. Tears glimmered in her eyes, a silent flood of gratitude, her fear palpable.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered, his voice softening.

She nodded, still trembling. They moved in silence, the alley stretching around them, longer than it should’ve been. The flickering lights above gave way to gloom, the buildings pressing in on either side like watching monoliths.

Satoru slowed, brow furrowing. “Did the construction workers... alter this path?”

The girl looked up at him, confusion mirrored in her wide, frightened eyes. Behind them, the alley’s mouth had vanished. no entry, no exit. Just bricks and darkness.

Tension gripped his spine. A door stood ahead, battered and out of place. With a breath, he pushed it open.

On the other side, the world had fallen silent.

They stepped into what looked like a city street but wrong. The buildings loomed like statues, untouched by wind, noise, or life. No birds, no cars. Just the oppressive quiet and an unnatural stillness that made Satoru's skin crawl.

His grip on her arm tightened slightly as they moved, instinct flaring. The air stank, thick, coppery, like dried blood and decay. Hallways branched into a maze of twisted architecture, walls coated in peeling paint and crimson smears.

Then came the retching. Wet, sickening, and close. It echoed through the halls, multiplying like a chorus of dying things.

From the shadows ahead, a grotesque figure crawled into view. A mass of tangled limbs, writhing and snapping. Its body jerked unnaturally, joints bending the wrong way, slick with rot. The sound of bones grinding sent a shiver down Satoru’s spine.

"Run," he breathed, voice tight with urgency.

He grabbed the girl’s arm and they bolted. Footsteps pounded the tiles as they wove through the labyrinthine corridors. The stench grew thicker, walls closing in. They ducked into a narrow crevice, barely wide enough to fit them both, backs pressed to the crumbling wall as the creature slithered past, too close.

Satoru's lungs burned. The air was thick and wrong, like breathing through sludge. Claustrophobia clamped down on his chest, the horror of the moment eclipsing even his strength. His stomach churned violently.

He turned away and vomited into the corner, retching until there was nothing left. His body shook with each gasp, sweat clinging to his skin. The world around him tilted, unreal and like a fevered dream. But it wasn’t a dream AND It was worse.

Wiping his mouth with a trembling hand, he forced himself upright. His voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper more for himself than the girl.

“Stay close... okay? We’ll get out. We have to.”

But the words felt hollow in the suffocating dark. He fumbled in his pocket, hands slick, found his inhaler and inhaled sharply. The medication rushed into his lungs, but his breath remained uneven, the panic too thick to dispel completely