"She didn't remember how she had gotten there. The world was blurry, a haze of indistinct colors, muffled sounds, and a cold that seeped deeply into her bones. Xara's head throbbed under the intensity of a thousand thoughts trying to surface, but none were clear, none were complete. She stood in the middle of a dark room, the only light coming from a faint, flickering glow of a dusty chandelier hanging above her. The room smelled of mold and time—an oppressive, stale scent, as if it hadn't been inhabited in years. She wrapped her arms around herself, the cotton fabric of her dress feeling thin and unfamiliar against her skin. Her heart was racing, the kind of pounding that echoed loudly in her ears, louder than the whispers she thought she could hear at the edge of her consciousness. Were they whispers? Or were they her own thoughts, looping strangely, like half-formed memories? The room was vast, with high ceilings casting shadows that stretched like claws, scratching at the corners of her vision. She didn't remember entering this room, she didn't understand why her legs felt so weak, her throat so dry. Nothing before this moment was clear. Nothing after made sense. The window at the far end of the room was partially veiled by tattered curtains, the glass behind them cracked but intact. A thin beam of moonlight slipped through the gap, spilling onto the wooden floor in a narrow streak, illuminating a path that led… where? She took a hesitant step forward, her bare feet brushing against the cold, splintered wood. As she moved, the room seemed to breathe with her, creaking and groaning as if it were alive, as if it had been waiting for her. Xara shivered, unsure if the sensation came from the cold or the strangeness that had settled on her like a second skin. The whispers grew louder. No, they weren’t just whispers. They were voices—low, soft, indistinct, but unmistakably voices. They seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, echoing around her. She turned slowly, trying to locate their direction, but the sound was elusive, slipping away from her ears like the memories fled from her mind. “Hello?” she called, her voice breaking the silence. It was swallowed by the vastness of the room, leaving her feeling even more isolated, more lost. There was no answer, only the continuous murmur of the voices. She felt her heart pounding harder against her chest. What was this place? Why was she here? And why couldn’t she remember anything? Xara moved forward again, her legs trembling but driven by a need she couldn’t quite articulate. The beam of moonlight seemed to beckon her, urging her towards the window, towards whatever lay beyond. Her fingers brushed the rough fabric of the curtain as she grasped it firmly to steady herself. The light outside was soft and pale, bathing the surroundings in an eerie glow. The landscape stretched out endlessly, a dense tangle of overgrown gardens and gnarled trees, their twisted branches forming dark silhouettes against the sky. Beyond, she could vaguely make out the shape of a structure or a gate, though it was too far to be certain. A sense of familiarity washed over her, but it was distant, like a half-forgotten dream. Had she been here before? If so, why couldn’t she remember? The voices grew louder, more insistent now, and they seemed to be saying her name. “Xara…” Her name, a whisper in the darkness. She jerked back from the window, her pulse quickening. “Who’s there?” Her voice trembled. There was no response. Only silence. A sense of dread settled over her. She turned back to the room, her eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Nothing. Just the oppressive silence filling the space, heavy and suffocating. Her mind struggled to find answers. Why was she here? What was this place? And why couldn’t she remember anything? A sudden, sharp pain pierced her mind, and she cried out, her hands flying to her temples. Images flashed behind her eyelids—disjointed, fragmented. A woman’s face, smiling. Laughter. The sound of water. Then… darkness. She stumbled backward, her breath coming in ragged gasps. What was happening to her? She had to get out. Now. Without thinking, she moved towards the door at the far end of the room. Her hand closed around the cold metal handle, and she twisted it, praying the door wasn’t locked. It wasn’t. The door creaked open, revealing a long, dimly lit hallway. The walls were covered in old, faded wallpaper, peeling in places, and the floor was thick with dust. The air was stale, and the same oppressive silence filled the space, broken only by the distant echo of her footsteps. Xara hesitated for a moment, her instincts screaming at her to turn back, to run. But where would she go? Back to that dark, empty room with its shadows and whispers? No, she had to keep moving forward. She stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her. The sound echoed through the corridor, louder than it should have been, and she flinched. She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of, but the feeling of being watched crawled over her skin like tiny invisible fingers. The hallway seemed to stretch on endlessly, each step taking her farther from anything familiar. From time to time, she passed a closed door, but something told her not to open them. She didn’t want to know what was behind them. The voices followed her, soft but omnipresent, a constant murmur at the back of her mind. She couldn’t make out the words, but she didn’t need to. She felt their intent, sensed the way they tugged at her, urging her to remember something just beyond her reach. “Xara…” She quickened her pace, trying to outrun the sound, but it only grew louder, more insistent. Panic tightened in her chest, squeezing tighter as the hallway twisted and turned, each corner revealing nothing but more of the same. Then she saw it—a door at the end of the hallway, different from the others. It was slightly ajar, a faint light spilling through the gap. Something about it seemed… important. Her legs carried her before her mind could protest. She reached the door and pushed it open, her breath catching in her throat. The room beyond was small, barely larger than a closet. But in the center of the room stood a large, ornate mirror. It was framed in gold, the edges tarnished with age, but the glass itself was flawless, reflecting the room—and her—perfectly. Xara stepped inside, her eyes locked on the mirror. She didn’t know why, but something was pulling her, urging her to come closer. As she stood before the mirror, her reflection stared back at her, wide-eyed and pale. But something was wrong. The woman in the mirror wasn’t quite… her. The realization hit her like a physical blow. The face looking back at her was hers, but not quite. The eyes were darker, the smile slightly off, the expression foreign. And the longer she stared, the more the differences became apparent. She took a step back, her heart hammering in her chest. The reflection didn’t move. Her breath caught as she watched the figure in the mirror slowly smile—a cold, sinister smile that chilled her to the bone. The reflection raised a hand, pressing it against the glass. Xara’s hand rose involuntarily, mimicking the motion, until her palm was pressed against the cold surface of the mirror. Then the glass began to ripple, like water disturbed by a stone. Xara screamed, pulling her hand away, but it was too late. The reflection’s hand broke through the surface of the mirror, its fingers wrapping around her wrist with an icy grip. She screamed again, trying to pull free, but the reflection’s grip was unrelenting, dragging her towards the mirror. The glass shimmered and swirled, and for a moment, Xara thought she glimpsed something beyond—another room, another world. Then the reflection spoke, its voice cold and chilling. “There’s nothing to remember.” The world went dark. When Xara opened her eyes again, she stood in the middle of a dark room. The only light came from a faint, flickering glow of a dusty chandelier above her. She didn’t remember how she had gotten there. And there was nothing to remember."

There's nothing to remember 

large_1000003246.jpg

Try Premium

Try Premium

There was nothing to remember

Kostakara

Share

There's nothing to remember

Synopsis

Chapters

Word Count

Read Time

Publish Date

Story Updates

This story has no updates.

Reviews

This story has not been rated yet. Login to review this story.

Advertisement

Challenge

About Author

Constantin

Advertisement

Browse