The city had transformed overnight. What had once been a place of life, of motion and purpose, had become a graveyard of forgotten promises. The streets that Royce walked now were deserted, lifeless, as if the soul of Royce's home had been stolen, piece by piece, leaving behind a hollow shell. The air tasted like decay, thick with the stench of rot and desperation. A storm was coming; he could feel it in his bones.
Royce's footsteps echoed loudly on the empty streets, a jarring sound that seemed to mock the eerie silence surrounding him. His eyes darted to the shadows, his senses heightened, though he knew deep down there was nothing left to fear from mere darkness. It was the shadows within that terrorized him now. He could still feel the touch of the cloaked figure on his skin, cold and unyielding, like a stain he couldn't scrub away.
The city knew him now. But it wasn't the city he remembered. The buildings were more oppressive, their silhouettes looming like watchful eyes. The alleys whispered, but it was a language Royce could no longer understand, one that dripped with malice and regret.
In the distance, the old clock tower rang, its chimes deep and hollow, as though the bell had been struck by the very hands of death itself. Royce stopped, his gaze shifting to the tower. It was taller now, towering over the skyline, a dark sentinel amidst the decay.
I have to know. I have to understand, Royce thought, his fists clenched, his heart pounding in his chest.
He had been given a second chance, but the price was steep. The figure had warned him. There were consequences, and he had yet to see the true cost of his decision. But that didn't matter now. He was drawn to the tower, to the pull that it had over him, like a magnet pulling at his very soul.
He walked toward it, his body moving almost mechanically. Each step felt like a burden. As he neared the base of the tower, a faint voice reached his ears, muffled and distorted, like a distant cry for help.
He hesitated, unsure of whether it was a trick, a hallucination brought on by the twisted world around him. But then he heard it again, louder this time.
"Help… help me… please."
Royce spun around, his breath catching in his throat. The voice seemed to be coming from a narrow alley beside the tower, a place he had never noticed before, despite his countless years in the city. The shadows there seemed to move unnaturally, swirling like smoke, beckoning him closer.
Against his better judgment, Royce entered the alley, his heart racing. The rain had stopped, but the ground beneath him was slick with mud, and the scent of wet earth filled his nostrils. As he moved deeper into the alley, the air grew colder, the darkness pressing in on him from all sides.
"Help me… Royce…"
His name. The voice knew his name. It was not a cry from a stranger. It was a call, personal and familiar, filled with a desperate longing. Royce stumbled forward, his mind reeling.
He turned the corner, and there, lying in the middle of the alley, was a figure. It was a woman, her form twisted and broken, her limbs contorted in unnatural angles. Her once-beautiful face was now a mask of anguish, her skin pale and mottled with bruises. She reached toward him with trembling hands, her eyes wide and filled with terror.
"Please… help me," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Royce knelt beside her, his chest tight with fear and confusion. He wanted to pull her to safety, to make her pain go away, but something told him this was no ordinary woman. Her presence felt wrong, like a shadow cast over the world, something that shouldn't exist.
"What happened to you?" Royce whispered, his voice barely audible.
The woman's lips curled into a twisted, painful smile.
"You're not supposed to be here," she hissed, her voice suddenly distorted, as though someone else was speaking through her. "You opened the door, Royce. You accepted the price. Now… now you'll pay."
The words struck Royce like a dagger. His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.
The price…
Before he could react, the woman's form began to flicker, like a broken light. Her body trembled, and in a blink, she was gone, vanishing into the air as though she had never existed.
Royce sat frozen, his mind racing. What had just happened? Was this some sort of trick? Or was it something worse—something that had already begun to unravel around him?
A cold laugh echoed from the shadows, chilling him to the bone.
"Fool," the voice whispered. "You have made a pact, and now the city will bleed. It will bleed for you."
Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath him, and the distant sound of breaking glass filled the air. Royce's eyes darted around, but there was nothing there. Only the darkness, stretching like an endless abyss, pulling him deeper. The shadows seemed to close in on him, wrapping around his body like chains.
He stood up, his heart pounding harder now. He had to get out of this alley. The city was coming alive, but not in the way he had hoped. The curse he had invoked was beginning to take form, and it was not one he could escape.
As Royce turned to leave, he heard one final whisper, barely a breath against his ear:
> "There is no escape, Royce. Not anymore."
And the darkness swallowed him whole.
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