The red lights didn't just illuminate the tunnel; they felt like they were bleeding into my skin. Every time the light pulsed, I could see the veins in my hands, glowing with that unnatural, electric blue tint.
"Don't stop," Maricha hissed behind me, her hand gripping my shoulder. "If you stop, the rhythm takes over. You have to keep your mind separate."
"The rhythm?" I asked, my voice echoing against the damp, curved walls. "What are they chanting, Maricha?"
I stopped. I had to. The sound was getting louder, a low, guttural vibration that made my teeth ache. It wasn't just my name. It was a sequence. A series of numbers and sounds that felt like they were unlocking doors in the back of my brain.
"Christine... Seven... Nine... Zero... Christine..."
"They aren't people," Maricha whispe
