Adrian stood at the center of the maze.
He hadn't moved in what felt like hours. The walls surrounded him. No doors. No openings.
He had tried walking. Every path curved back.
He had tried calling. His voice died.
He had tried touching the walls. They were cold.
So he stood still.
And he thought.
*The maze is a spiral. The silence deepens the closer you get to the center.*
He remembered the first corridor. He had been able to hear his own footsteps. Then the footsteps disappeared. Then his breathing.
Now, at the center, there was nothing.
*The witnesses can't speak because speaking makes them disappear.*
He had seen them in the corridors—shapes at the edge of his vision that fled.
*The center is a secret.*
He looked at the walls. Marks were scratched into the surface. Countles
