The University: hidden truth about the unknown

**Chapter 3: The Bridge to Nowhere**

Mira's breaths were shallow, her back pressed against the cold stone wall as her gaze darted down the desolate hallway. Sonia was gone—vanished without a trace. The dim lights overhead flickered ominously, and an eerie silence cloaked the passage like a suffocating fog.

She tried to suppress the growing fear in her chest, telling herself that Sonia must have walked ahead, unaware that Mira had fallen behind. But a whisper of doubt clawed at the edges of her mind: *What if she’s not coming back?*

“Sonia?” Mira called out softly, her voice trembling.

The only reply was the hollow echo of her words bouncing back to her.

Her hands trembled as she traced the wall for support, inching forward in hesitant steps. The air grew colder, and her unease deepened with each step she took. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, twisting in ways that didn’t make sense, like it was alive and changing.

Finally, the narrow corridor opened up to a wide expanse. Mira froze. She was standing at the edge of what appeared to be a bridge, its structure stretching into darkness. The faint wind brushing her face told her the sides were open, though she couldn’t see far into the void. A strange metallic smell lingered in the air, sharp and bitter.

Ahead, the bridge sloped downward into a pitch-black passageway. A shiver ran down her spine.

Mira clutched her phone tightly, fumbling to dial Ryan’s number with trembling fingers.

“Ryan!” she cried out as soon as he answered. “I... I followed Sonia. She’s gone. I don’t know where I am. It’s some kind of bridge, but it’s too dark to see anything, and I’m scared!”

“Mira, listen to me carefully,” Ryan’s voice was urgent. “Don’t move any further. Stay where you are. We’re coming to get you. Which way did you go?”

“I—I think it was near the restrooms,” Mira stammered, glancing around the shadowy space. “But, Ryan... I think something’s here with me.”

Ryan’s tone sharpened. “Close your eyes, Mira. Close them now and don’t open them until we get there, no matter what you hear or feel. Do you understand? *Don’t look.*”

Her knees buckled, and she pressed her back against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as instructed. The oppressive silence returned, heavier now, as though the darkness itself were breathing around her.

And then, she heard it—a low, guttural growl, deep and resonant, vibrating through her bones.

“Ryan,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “It’s here. It’s close.”

“Keep your eyes closed, Mira,” Ryan urged. “We’re coming as fast as we can. Just hold on.”

The growling grew louder, closer. Mira’s breath hitched as she felt the floor tremble beneath her feet. Suddenly, hands clamped down on her shoulders, cold and impossibly strong. She let out a choked scream as the force pushed her forward, nearly sending her tumbling across the bridge. Her phone slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground, sliding out of reach.

Blindly, she crouched down, feeling around for the device. Her fingers scraped against the rough surface of the bridge until they brushed against something—something large and unyielding.

It wasn’t her phone.

The texture was rough and coarse, like the hide of an animal, but the shape was unmistakable: a massive foot, far larger than anything human. Mira froze, her breath caught in her throat as she realized it wasn’t alone.

A second growl, louder and more menacing, echoed through the void. Mira felt the air shift as the creature leaned closer, its rancid breath hot against her skin.

She stifled a sob, tears streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, “Sonia? Please... where are you?”

But there was no response—only the sound of the creature’s heavy breathing and the slow, deliberate scrape of its claws against the floor.

And then, out of the darkness, came a faint beam of light.

“Mira!” Ryan’s voice cut through the suffocating silence like a lifeline. Footsteps echoed across the bridge, fast and purposeful.

“Mira, keep your eyes closed!” Ryan commanded as she felt strong hands grab her arms, pulling her to her feet.

More footsteps followed, hurried and frantic. Mira heard Nora’s voice now, tense but comforting. “We’ve got you, Mira. Just don’t open your eyes. Not yet.”

They half-carried, half-dragged her away from the bridge, their pace quickening with every step. The growls and scraping sounds receded, though Mira could still feel the oppressive weight of the thing watching her, its presence lingering in the back of her mind like a shadow that wouldn’t leave.

“We have to hurry,” Nora muttered. “It’s almost 3:30. We don’t have much time.”

Mira felt the air grow warmer, the darkness lifting slightly as they moved. Finally, Nora whispered, “Okay, Mira. You can open your eyes now.”

Mira hesitated, but when she finally opened them, she found herself outside the university gates. The sight of the familiar streets brought a flood of relief, and she collapsed into Nora’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “I should’ve listened. I thought I knew better, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry for putting you all in danger.”

Nora held her tightly, her voice shaking. “It’s okay, Mira. You’re safe now. But this has to stop. You can’t take chances like that anymore. This place... it isn’t normal.”

Ryan stepped forward, his face pale but determined. “Who is Sonia, Mira? How long have you known her?”

Mira shook her head, still trembling. “I don’t know her. She said she saw me yesterday and wanted to help me see the garden. I thought... I thought she was just being nice.”

Nora’s face darkened, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mira, there is no garden. There hasn’t been one for decades.”

Mira stared at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about? I saw it—through the window in my classroom. The flowers, the grass... it was beautiful.”

Nora’s voice cracked as she explained, “There are no windows, Mira. They were all sealed off years ago. What you saw wasn’t real.”

Ryan added grimly, “The stories are true. People see what they want to see here. That’s how it lures you in.”

Mira’s mind reeled, her thoughts racing. She thought back to the strange photo she’d received the night before—the one of her smiling in a garden she’d never visited.

Nora continued, her voice heavy with sorrow. “There used to be a garden, sixty years ago. But it was built over when the university expanded. They turned it into a cemetery. Whatever is here now... it isn’t human.”

Mira felt a chill run through her as the pieces fell into place. The garden, the photo, Sonia—it had all been a trap, a carefully laid snare to lure her into the darkness.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again, her voice breaking.

Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe now. But you need to listen to us from now on. This place doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

Mira nodded, her resolve hardening. She had made a mistake, and it had nearly cost her everything. But she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

As the group walked away from the university, Mira glanced back one last time.

For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a figure standing at the far end of the bridge, its shadow stretching impossibly long.

And then it was gone.