The Edge Of The Thread
955 Words
The knocking stopped.
But the silence was worse.
Then—
The floorboards groaned. Above. Below. All around them.
The walls expanded and contracted—like the house itself had learned how to breathe.
And then—
The attack began.
Something slammed into the hallway door with a sickening crack. The wood split at the edges, splinters flying into the air.
Another hit.
Another.
The hinges screamed.
The chandelier trembled overhead. Light bulbs burst in sharp, staccato pops—glass falling like deadly rain.
Mika screamed.
Max shoved a desk against the door. His hands were shaking.
“What the hell is out there?!”
Dylan stood in front of Aya.
Unmoving. A silent shield. His muscles tense like drawn wire.
“It’s trying to break through.”
“No,” came Mang Ramon’s voice, low and certain, pulling a dagger from beneath his coat. The blade shimmered with runes that pulsed faintly.
“It already has.”
The wallpaper blistered, curling and tearing as if something beneath it was pushing out.
Veins.
Throbbing, flesh-colored veins.
The shadows in the corners stretched unnaturally, rising—becoming figures.
Twisted doppelgängers.
Malformed.
Mocking.
They pounded the windows. Their mouths grinned too wide.
They screamed in voices not their own, repeating the group’s names, laughing with distorted echoes.
Tiana dropped to her knees, covering her ears.
“Make it stop! Please, make it stop!”
Dylan’s eyes flashed crimson.
He grabbed Aya’s hand. The mark between them glowed faintly, like a distant heartbeat.
“Stay with me. No matter what happens.”
But Aya was slipping.
The locket around her neck trembled violently. The pulse quickened—like it recognized something.
Her vision blurred.
The shadows weren’t just outside.
They were inside her.
Calling her. Pulling.
---
Morning
The attack ended with the coming of dawn.
Not that anyone slept.
The resort was silent. Too silent. Like the quiet after a scream.
The wallpaper was normal again.
The veins were gone.
But every mirror was cracked, spiderwebbed like ice.
The air stank—like something had died and begun to rot.
Lance found a closet at the end of the hall.
Inside: a torn staff uniform, soaked in dried blood.
In its pocket: a crumpled hand-drawn map.
Circled in red: The Garden.
Max discovered something else—scratched into a wooden bedpost, nearly rubbed away:
“It waits beneath the roots.”
Aya sat on the floor, unmoving, staring at the locket in her hand.
She hadn’t spoken in hours.
She didn’t eat. Didn’t blink.
“Aya.”
Dylan knelt in front of her.
Nothing.
He reached out to touch her hand—
Cold.
Her head slowly tipped backward.
Then she collapsed.
Her body slumped into his arms.
No scream.
No sound.
Just stillness.
Her lips parted slightly in a shallow breath—
But her soul was gone.
---
The Dream Realm
Aya opened her eyes.
A crimson sky loomed overhead. Silver trees stretched into the clouds. The ground beneath her feet shimmered and pulsed with quiet breath.
And he was waiting.
The other Dylan.
White hair. Crimson eyes.
Beautiful. Familiar.
Wrong.
“You came back,” he whispered.
Aya tried to run.
Her limbs didn’t move.
“I never left,” she whispered back—and hated herself for it.
He stepped closer, smiling like a lover.
“You belong here. With me.”
---
Back in the Room
“No… No—No!”
Dylan cradled her body, his voice breaking.
The mark on her neck—once vivid—was fading. A ghost of what it was.
“She’s not breathing,” Mika choked out, her hands trembling. “She’s—”
“She’s not dead!” Dylan barked, clutching her tighter. “She’s not. She’s not—!”
Mang Ramon knelt, placing his hand over her locket.
He closed his eyes. Whispered a prayer.
“Her soul has been pulled. She’s trapped in the dream realm. The locket… it was the doorway.”
“How do we get her back?” Tiana’s voice was small.
But Dylan already knew.
He dropped to his knees.
Pressed his forehead to hers.
The bond flickered weakly—like a thread stretched too thin.
“There’s no other way to bring her back,” Mang Ramon said softly.
Everyone else looked away, helpless.
Mika was crying. She whispered, “I said I would protect her…”
“We need to keep moving,” Mang Ramon said. “Find anything that might help. Weapons. Wards. Clues.”
“We can’t let the same thing happen again,” Lance added, pale but firm.
“We’ll split into three groups,” Mang Ramon instructed. “Time is against us.”
“Mika, Lance, and I will search the Garden—this map might hold answers.”
“Lauren, Tiana, and I will search for weapons,” Max said, already moving.
“I’ll stay here,” Dylan said, not looking away from Aya. “I won’t leave her again.”
---
Alone
The others left. Their footsteps faded down the hallway.
Now it was just Dylan. And Aya.
He stared at her body—so still. So cold.
The connection between them was fading.
He couldn’t feel her anymore.
Couldn’t hear her in his mind.
Couldn’t reach her in the dreams.
She was slipping away.
Out of desperation—anguish—he leaned down and kissed her.
Her lips were cold. Unmoving.
No response.
He kissed her again.
Still nothing.
His hands were shaking now.
His voice cracked with a cry.
He kissed her again, harder—“Please… come back.”
Light exploded from his chest.
The bond surged.
His soul ripped free—
—And followed hers into the dream.
- Writer
