6.

The world around me spun as the door clicked shut behind me. My heart raced, each beat pounding in my chest, echoing the rhythm of the fear that clung to me like a second skin. One moment, I had been in that sterile, cold room with them — the scientists who controlled every move I made, every breath I took. And then, just like that, I was back. Back to the place I had tried so desperately to forget.

The familiar, darkeness stretched out before me, its shadowy corners whispering with memories I couldn’t escape. I didn’t know how I got back here or why. I didn’t care. All that mattered now was what came next.

I walked cautiously, my footsteps eerily quiet against the cold, damp grass. Every sound seemed amplified in the oppressive silence: the faint dripping of water, the hum of fluorescent lights that barely worked, and the shallow, uneven rhythm of my breathing. My heart thumped hard against my ribcage as I strained my ears for anything out of the ordinary.

The wide footpath twisted and turned, and with every step, it felt like the trees were closing in, the air growing heavier. My mind buzzed, disjointed and foggy, fragments of the past mingling with the present. I tried to steady my breath, to focus, but the tightness in my chest wouldn’t let up.

When I reached the end of the woods and saw the tall wall, turning around I saw forest, dark and endless, its thick canopy blotting out the moonlight. I again started wandering into the woods.

I didn’t remember stepping outside, yet here I was, surrounded by the eerie quiet of the woods. The air was colder here, biting against my skin, and the faint rustle of leaves whispered promises of danger.

Walking into the woods at night was not a good idea. I knew that. The darkness was alive, every shadow seeming to shift and move as if it had a will of its own. The trees, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands, loomed over me, casting twisted patterns across the ground. The path ahead was uneven, littered with fallen leaves and roots that threatened to trip me with every step.

But staying still wasn’t an option. I moved forward, my steps hesitant, careful. The woods felt wrong, like they were watching me, their silence too perfect, too complete. Even the usual nocturnal sounds—crickets chirping, owls hooting—were absent. It was as if the forest itself held its breath, waiting.

And then, I felt it. The unmistakable sensation of being watched.

My skin prickled, a cold shiver running down my spine. It was subtle at first, a shift in the air, the hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. But it was there — I wasn’t alone.

I glanced over my shoulder, my pulse quickening. The path behind me was empty, just a trail swallowed by darkness. But something wasn’t right. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones.

My heart hammered in my chest as I quickened my pace. The sensation only grew stronger. Someone was behind me. I couldn’t hear anything—no footsteps, no movement—but I knew. I knew.

Panic surged through me, and I broke into a sprint.

My feet pounded against the ground, my breath coming in sharp gasps. The trees blurred past me as I ran, their twisted shapes becoming a chaotic, indecipherable mass. But the feeling didn’t fade. If anything, it grew stronger, the air behind me thick with the presence of something—or someone—pursuing me.

Faster. Closer.

I risked a glance behind me, and my heart stopped. There it was—a shadow, moving quickly, too quickly, closing the distance between us. It was tall and dark, its shape indistinct, almost blending with the forest around it.

I didn’t slow down. My legs burned, my chest ached, but I pushed through the pain. The sound of my heartbeat filled my ears, drowning out everything else.

I darted between the trees, my mind screaming at me to keep moving, to find a way out. But the woods seemed endless, a labyrinth of darkness and despair. No matter where I turned, it was the same—the same trees, the same oppressive silence, the same shadows that seemed to stretch and reach for me.

The shadow behind me was relentless. It didn’t falter, didn’t pause. It just kept coming, a force of nature I couldn’t outrun.

I stumbled, my foot catching on an exposed root, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The adrenaline coursing through my veins drowned out the pain as I pushed myself back up and kept running.

And then, I saw it—a faint light in the distance, flickering between the trees like a beacon. Hope flared in my chest, brief but powerful. I didn’t know what it was or where it led, but I needed to reach it. It was my only chance.

I pushed myself harder, my legs screaming in protest, the light growing brighter with every step. But the shadow was close now, too close. I could feel it, its presence pressing down on me, suffocating me.

And then, just as I reached the clearing where the light awaited, I felt a hand grab my arm.

My body tensed, panic surging through me like a tidal wave. I tried to pull away, but the grip tightened, dragging me back into the shadows. I whirled around, my heart stopping in my chest when I saw who it was.

A man, tall and imposing, his face partially obscured by the dim light. His eyes were cold, calculating, and there was no mistaking the malice that hung in the air between us.

And I recognized him all too well. Ace Callahan.

His presence was as commanding as ever, the same aura of danger and power that made my blood run cold. But there was something different about him now, something darker, more unrelenting.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The way he was looking at me told me everything I needed to know — I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to escape.

Before I could react, he shoved me against a tree, the rough bark digging into my back as my head hit the trunk with a sickening thud. My vision blurred, stars dancing in front of my eyes as the world tilted, spinning.

“Running again?” His voice was low, almost amused, a cruel edge lacing his words. “You can’t run forever.”

I struggled against his grip, but it was no use. He was too strong, his hand like iron around my wrist.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he continued, his tone soft but deadly. “Why are you back?”

My breath hitched as his words sank in. He knew I was back.

“I didn’t—” I started, but he cut me off, his grip tightening.

“Save it.” His gaze bore into mine, unyielding. “You think you can stay here and nobody will know?”

His words sent a chill down my spine, colder than the night air.

And then, without another word, he released me. I stumbled, barely catching myself before I hit the ground. When I looked up, he was staring at me intensely, his blue electric going.

His haunting words echoing into the dark.

“You can’t run forever.”