”Turn back.”

An ancient voice echoed through the dusty halls of the manor. As if in response, the windows of the building shook, glass rattling as a sudden gust of wind buffeted the building. The wood beams groaned in protest, bending with the added pressure and the entire manor seemed to sway with the wind. The floor beneath your feet creaked with each step you took, threatening to collapse under your weight as they sunk lower into the foundation.

You continued onwards, ignoring the growing cacophony of voices.

”Turn back, turn back, turnbackturnbackturnbackturnback—”

You stopped in front of a large set of ornate double doors.

As you placed your hand on the doorknob, a deathly chill covered your outstretched limb. The chill crawled along the curve of your arm, flowing upwards towards your neck as two arms poured out of the wood before you. A chest, then a face made themselves visible and now-solidified hands wrapped themselves around your neck.

Yevgen stared at you.

Dark caverns replaced the space where his eyes would be. His mouth opened, filled—unlike the emptiness of his eyes, with rows upon rows of sharp teeth that stretched down into his throat. Yevgen’s jaw clicked, teeth gnashing against each other to produce an orchestra of screeches.

”Turn back!”

The windows shattered. Wind, now unfettered by anything, tore into the building. It whipped up the glass shards on the floor, smashing them against the wall and turning them into fine dust. The chandelier above you flickered, bulbs burning out one by one before the entire hallway sunk into darkness.

Yevgen’s form, which had been solid, began to melt. His body oozed over your arms and chest, clinging to your skin and clothing. The mass glowed an eerie blue, becoming the only source of light in the hallway.

”Turn back.” The walls whispered. ”Turn back.” Howled the wind. ”Turn back!” Cried Yevgen as a thousand tiny mouths manifested upon the slime that was his body.

You gently opened the door.

Suddenly, the wind stopped, the chandelier lit up, and the entire house quieted.

“No!!!”

Yevgen peeled himself off your body, forming back into the familiar shape you had grown used to seeing. He swam frantically in circles above the revealed room, kicking up dust and knocking over manuscripts in his frenzy. Then, Yevgen hovered in front of the main desk sitting before a large window furthest from a door, aiming to pick up the stack of papers sitting atop it despite his inability to interact with the material world.

He may not have blood flowing through his body anymore, but Yevgen could still feel his face heating up in embarrassment as his hands phased through the papers in front of him.

Why didn’t he get rid of these things when he was alive? How stupid was he to not include such instructions in his will?! Why, oh why did he not dispose of his fanfiction before?!

“Don’t you dare look!” Yevgen demanded, pausing his frantic ministrations to glare at you when he felt you take another step into the large study.