The Nether Eclipse

The Tunnel Calls

They arrived at the tunnel at exactly 5:00 PM. Elliot’s stomach churned with unease, a cold prickle crawling up his neck, but he swallowed his worries. This was his chance to get closer to Clara, and he wasn’t about to ruin it by chickening out.

“I bet this place will fetch me massive followers when I slam today’s events on i********:,” Sandra said, her eyes gleaming. “If we catch ghosts, I’ll be famous!” [1]

“Daniel, stay in the car,” Clara instructed her security detail. “If we’re not back by 6:30, come look for us.”

“My orders are to stay with you at all times, ma’am,” Daniel replied, his voice firm.

“That’s an order, or I’ll make sure Dad fires you,” Clara snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Hey, Julius, take a shot of me,” Sandra called to Elliot, already posing with the tunnel’s dark mouth behind her.

“It’s Elliot,” he corrected, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, just do it.”

He filmed as they stepped into the tunnel, the air growing damp and heavy, like breathing through a wet cloth. The walls glistened faintly, and a low hum, almost imperceptible, vibrated underfoot, making Elliot’s teeth ache. They reached a crossroad—three paths branching left, right, and forward.

“Which way now?” Elliot asked, his flashlight beam dancing across the graffiti-scarred walls.

“Which path looks scarier?” Clara asked Sandra, her smirk daring.

As they debated, a voice sliced through the hum—a low, echoing whisper, like a child trapped in a well. “Remember… remember me…” Elliot froze, his heart hammering.

“Did you guys hear that?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Hear what?” Sandra frowned, checking her phone.

“Ghosts? Are there really ghosts here?” she added, her excitement spiking. Sandra, a self-proclaimed net fiend, lived for her social media presence, turning every moment into content.

“You know ghosts can be scary, right? Stop getting needlessly excited,” Clara scolded, her eyes narrowing.

“I love you, Clara, but this could get me a thousand new followers. I can’t miss a second!” Sandra’s screen flickered, then went black. “What the—? I’ve got no bars. Hey, Julius, move, I might get signal here.” She shoved Elliot aside.

“Still nothing. Clara, you got any?” Sandra turned to her right.

“Nope,” Clara said, checking her phone. “Elliot?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, his gaze darting to the shadows. “Guys, we still haven’t picked a path. Left, right, or forward?”

“Personally, I think we should head back,” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. The hum grew louder, and the voice returned, clearer now, laced with desperation. “Remember who you are… REMEMBER ME!” A faint symbol—a double edged triangle—flickered in his mind’s eye, like a memory he couldn’t grasp.

“Uh, guys, for real this time, am I only one who heard that?” Elliot’s hands trembled, the flashlight beam shaking.

“Heard what?” Clara and Sandra yelled in unison.

“I’ll… keep quiet,” he mumbled, but the whispers persisted, slithering through his thoughts like smoke. Instinctively, he spoke, his voice unnaturally steady, almost menacing. “If you want a sight you won’t believe, go left. If you don’t want to return home in one piece, go right. If you don’t want to return home at all, go forward.”

“Left it is,” Sandra and Clara said together, exchanging a glance.

Elliot’s skin crawled. How do I know this? he wondered, trailing behind them.

They walked on, the tunnel narrowing, the hum now a pulse that synced with Elliot’s heartbeat. Shadows seemed to writhe at the edge of his vision, and a cold breeze brushed his neck, carrying the faint scent of ash. They reached a rusted door on the left, its surface etched with the same triangular structure he'd always draw as a kid. .

Clara pushed the door open, revealing a cavernous room. Root-like structures pulsed with blue light, twisting across the walls like veins. At the far end, a glowing sphere shimmered, its surface rippling like liquid starlight—an entrance, a doorway, or something else entirely.

“Woah, check this out!” Sandra gasped, filming frantically. “My followers are gonna lose it when I post this. Too bad I can’t livestream.” Her camera glitched, the screen flashing with a distorted face for a split second—a hollow-eyed figure that vanished when she blinked. She paled but shook it off, muttering, “Stupid phone.”

“Does anyone know how long we’ve been in here?” Elliot asked, his voice tight. “I told you, Clara, I can’t be out after 7.”

“No way to tell since we lost service,” Sandra snapped. “Don’t be such a pussy.”

“That’s enough, Sandra,” Clara cut in sharply. “He’s my friend, even if he’s new. I don’t appreciate you talking to him like that, and his name’s E-L-L-I-O-T, not Julius.” She stepped closer to Elliot, her hand brushing his. “I think it’s been about 30 minutes,” she said softly, squeezing his fingers. “You’re okay now.”

The room lurched. Elliot’s vision blurred, and he was back in the lava-filled wasteland, the air choking with sulfur. Faceless figures loomed, their silhouettes flickering. One stepped forward, its voice a hollow rasp. “Wake up. Remember who you are. Break free from this fantasy. Return to your glory. Forsake this mortal herd.” The triangular symbol burned in the sky above, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Back in the tunnel, Sandra’s voice cut through. “Can I fit in there?” She eyed the glowing doorway, her bravado faltering. “I’m a bit… busty. Think I can?”

“A bit’s an understatement,” Clara said, her tone dry. “But it’s unwise to jump into random phenomena. Let’s test it first. Find some rocks.”

They tossed pebbles into the doorway, but nothing happened. Sandra spotted a rotting wooden table and, with Clara’s help, shoved it through. The sphere rippled, swallowing the table without a sound.

“Still nothing,” they groaned, exasperated.

Elliot snapped back to reality, his breath ragged, eyes wide with terror. The air thickened, the hum now a deafening drone. He whispered, “We need to go. *Now.* Something’s coming, and it’s not here to welcome us.”

Sandra scoffed. “What are you—”

*Thump.* A heavy footfall echoed from the tunnel’s depths. *Thump. Thump.* Closer now.

“Run!” they screamed, bolting back the way they came. Clara glanced back, her eyes locking on a face emerging from the shadows—pale, eyeless, with a mouth stretched too wide, etched with the a symbol across its cheek. She froze, her breath hitching, the face somehow familiar, like a distorted memory.

“Clara, move!” Elliot yelled. Seeing her paralyzed, he hoisted her onto his back and ran, Sandra stumbling beside him. They reached the crossroad, skidding to a halt. A mangled body lay sprawled across the path—torn to shreds, unrecognizable, blood pooling beneath. Sandra gagged, nearly vomiting.

“Keep going!” Elliot urged, his legs burning as they sprinted toward the tunnel’s mouth. They burst into the open air, collapsing on the ground.

“Finally, we’re safe,” Sandra gasped, clutching her phone.

“You've just jinxed us,” Elliot snapped, his voice raw. The stars above were too bright, too many for early evening.

Sandra retched, her bravado shattered. Clara remained silent, her eyes distant, still frozen. The *thump-thump* of footsteps grew louder, approaching the tunnel’s entrance.

“What time is it?” Elliot demanded.

Sandra fumbled with her watch. “It’s… 7:15. But we weren’t gone that long!” Her voice cracked, fear overtaking her.

“It’s coming,” she whimpered. “What do we do? Where’s the driver?”

Elliot’s heart sank. The shredded body at the crossroad—Daniel. “Oh, crap,” Sandra sobbed. “I’m dead. I’ve got a whole life ahead of me!”

Elliot rifled through Clara’s bag, finding the car keys. He shoved Sandra into the front seat, laid Clara gently in the back, and fumbled with the ignition. The engine sputtered, then roared to life. As he glanced up, a face loomed at the tunnel’s edge—eyeless, its too-wide mouth curling into a grin. It stared, locking eyes with Elliot, then melted back into the darkness.

Elliot’s hands shook as he drove, the car swerving until he found his rhythm. “We’re safe now,” Sandra said, her voice hollow. “I hope Clara snaps out of it when we get her home.”

Elliot’s mind raced. “Maybe it’s all connected,” he muttered. “The missing people, the tunnel, that doorway, my visions…” He glanced at Sandra’s phone, still clutched in her hand. “Check your footage. Did you catch anything weird?”

Sandra hesitated, then played the video. The glowing doorway flickered, but at one frame, the distorted face from before stared back—hollow-eyed was caught.

“How’d you know which way to go back there?” Sandra asked, her tone suspicious. “And how’d you know something was coming before the footsteps?”

“Paranoia,” Elliot lied, forcing a laugh. “Guess my fears were spot on. Just a hunch to pick the less creepy path.” He couldn’t risk Sandra spreading rumors, not when he was already the “freak” at school.

But as they drove, the prickle on his neck returned. “It’s all connected,” he whispered. “My visions, the tunnel, the missing people… nowhere’s safe.” The symbol burned in his memory, and he knew the city—was in harm’s way. Little did he know how deep the darkness ran.