CHAPTER 4: THE AUTOPSY
1519 Words
“Close it.”
The command came out of Elias like a reflex.
Two of the men moved instantly, rushing past Sera toward the cracking sarcophagus. One grabbed the edge of the lid, the other braced his shoulder against the stone.
“Now—push!”
The lid resisted.
Not like stone.
Like something on the other side was pushing back.
Sera felt it.
That pressure again.
Inside her chest.
Inside her skull.
Like something was trying to line up with her.
Her breath hitched.
“Don’t—” she whispered.
No one heard her.
The crack widened.
Just a fraction.
But enough.
A thin line of darkness showed through—
Not shadow.
Not absence.
Something deeper.
Something that swallowed light instead of hiding from it.
And then—
A sound.
Not from the room.
From inside her head.
A low, wet inhale.
Sera staggered.
Her hand flew to her temple.
“No—no—no—”
“Sera.”
Elias’s voice snapped sharp.
“Look at me.”
She didn’t want to.
She couldn’t.
But she did.
Because something in his tone—
It cut through everything else.
Her gaze locked onto his.
“Breathe,” he said.
“I am breathing—”
“No. You’re syncing.”
The word made no sense.
And yet—
Her chest seized.
Because it felt true.
“What does that mean?” she choked.
“It means it recognizes you,” he said, voice tight now. “And you’re responding.”
Behind him—
The men strained harder.
Stone ground against stone.
“Hold it—!”
“I can’t—!”
The lid jerked again.
Sera’s head snapped toward it.
And for one horrifying second—
She saw inside.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
Just—
A shape.
Too many edges.
Too many angles.
Like something wasn’t meant to exist in one form but was being forced into it anyway.
Her vision blurred.
Her knees buckled.
“Stop looking at it!” Elias barked.
Too late.
The thing inside shifted.
And something shifted inside her.
A memory—
No.
A feeling pretending to be a memory.
Hunger.
Not for food.
For something else.
Something alive.
Sera gasped.
Her hand dropped from her head to her chest.
“I—”
The word died.
Because she felt it again.
That pull.
Stronger now.
Like gravity.
Like something was trying to drag her forward.
Toward the sarcophagus.
Toward—
“Get her out of here,” Elias said sharply.
“No,” Sera snapped, the word coming out faster than she expected. Stronger. “No, I need to see—”
“You don’t.”
“I do—”
“You always think you do.”
Something in her chest snapped at that.
“I am not—whatever version of me you think I am!”
The men behind him grunted.
The lid shifted again.
Another inch.
A sound slipped through the opening.
Soft.
Almost gentle.
“…come…”
Sera froze.
Her heart stuttered.
It wasn’t loud.
But it was clear.
And it wasn’t speaking to the room.
It was speaking to her.
“…come back…”
Her breath trembled.
“No,” she whispered.
The pull intensified.
Her body leaned forward before she could stop it.
Elias grabbed her arm.
Hard.
“Don’t.”
She jerked against him.
“Let go—”
“You don’t understand what happens if you go closer—”
“Then explain it!”
His grip tightened.
For a second—
Just a second—
She saw something raw in his eyes.
Not calm.
Not control.
Fear.
“For once,” he said, voice low and sharp, “just listen.”
That stopped her.
Not because of the words.
Because of the way he said them.
Like he was begging.
Sera swallowed hard.
Her body still leaned forward.
Still pulled.
Still—
Hungry.
“I need data,” she said, forcing the words out, forcing logic back into place. “If that thing is reacting to me, then I need to understand why—”
“You will,” Elias cut in. “But not like this.”
The lid shifted again.
A crack split wider across the stone.
Dust rained down.
The men slipped—
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
The lid jerked.
Opened.
A hand shot out.
Not human.
Too long.
Too thin.
Joints in the wrong places.
It grabbed the edge of the sarcophagus with a sound like bone scraping bone.
Sera’s breath vanished.
The air in the room seemed to collapse inward.
Everything slowed.
The hand tightened.
Pulled.
And something inside began to rise.
Elias moved.
Fast.
He shoved Sera backward, hard enough that she stumbled and nearly fell.
“MOVE!”
She didn’t argue this time.
Her instincts finally caught up.
She turned—
Ran—
Boots, bare feet, didn’t matter—
The sound behind her exploded into motion.
Stone cracking.
Men shouting.
Something wet.
Something tearing.
She didn’t look back.
Not again.
Not this time.
The corridor swallowed her as she ran, the air thinning, the pressure easing just enough for her lungs to drag in a full breath.
One step.
Two.
Three—
Her vision blurred.
Not from speed.
From something else.
Something building again inside her.
Her pace faltered.
“No—”
Her hand slammed against the wall to steady herself.
The carvings beneath her palm—
Shifted.
No.
That wasn’t right.
They didn’t move.
They responded.
Her touch sent a ripple through them.
Like water disturbed by a stone.
Sera froze.
“What…”
Her fingers pressed harder.
The symbols glowed faintly.
Just for a second.
And then—
A voice.
Clear.
Not from behind her.
Not ahead.
Inside.
You’re waking up too fast.
Her breath hitched.
“That’s not real,” she whispered.
It is.
Her heart slammed.
“That’s not my voice.”
It is.
She shook her head violently.
“No. No, I’m not doing this. I’m not—”
You already are.
Her knees buckled.
She dropped to the floor hard, breath shaking, hands clutching her head.
“Stop—”
You wanted to know what we are.
Her vision flickered.
Flashes—
Blood.
Light.
Something screaming—
Look.
“I don’t want to—”
Look.
Her body locked.
Her eyes—
Refused to close.
And suddenly—
She was somewhere else.
Same room.
Same sarcophagi.
But different.
Not broken.
Not abandoned.
Alive.
Twelve figures stood around her.
Not human.
Not entirely.
Shapes wrapped in meaning.
Power humming through them like breath.
And she—
She stood among them.
Not as Sera.
Not as she was now.
But as something else.
Something older.
Stronger.
Wearing a name that pressed against her mind—
Cass—
The vision snapped.
Sera screamed.
Her body jerked violently as she slammed back into herself, into the corridor, into the present.
Her breath came in ragged gasps.
Her hands shook uncontrollably.
“No—no—no—”
Footsteps approached.
Fast.
Real.
Elias.
He dropped to one knee in front of her, gripping her shoulders.
“Sera—look at me.”
She didn’t want to.
But she did.
Because grounding herself in him—
In something real—
was the only thing keeping her from slipping again.
“What did you see?” he demanded.
She shook her head.
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.”
His voice cut through her.
Sharp.
Urgent.
“Every time you lie about this, it gets worse.”
Her breath hitched.
“…Every time?”
He didn’t answer.
Of course he didn’t.
Her chest tightened painfully.
“…I saw them,” she whispered finally.
His grip on her shoulders tightened.
“Who?”
Her lips trembled.
“…All of them.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Elias exhaled slowly.
Like something had just confirmed his worst fear.
“And you?” he asked quietly.
Sera’s throat went dry.
“I wasn’t… me.”
A flicker of something crossed his face.
Recognition.
Dread.
“…What were you?” he asked.
Her voice barely came out.
“…One of them.”
The words hung in the air between them.
Impossible.
And yet—
Too real to deny.
Elias closed his eyes for a brief second.
When he opened them again—
Whatever calm he had left was gone.
“…Then we’re out of time.”
Sera’s heart stuttered.
“What does that mean?”
He stood.
Pulled her up with him.
“We skip the explanations.”
Her pulse spiked.
“What—no, you don’t get to—”
“We don’t have that luxury anymore.”
His voice was final.
Cold.
Certain.
“Because if you’re remembering already—”
He looked past her.
Toward the chamber.
Toward whatever had just broken free.
And when he spoke again—
There was no doubt left.
“…then it’s not waking up.”
Sera’s breath caught.
“It’s calling you back.”
And somewhere behind them—
Something answered.
- Writer
