Heart of the unknown

A sharp sound sliced through the stillness of the room like a knife tearing a curtain of false safety.

"Clack!"

Cairo and I turned instantly toward the source of the sound, our hearts thundering in unison, our eyes searching for an explanation.

It was the door…

The door had closed.

Not softly, but with a sudden, disturbing force—

as if an invisible hand had yanked it shut, determined to let us know we were no longer free.

Then, without warning,

the candle went out.

Just like that.

Its light vanished as if someone had blown it out deliberately, plunging the room into a thick, suffocating darkness.

The kind of darkness where you can't even see your own fingers in front of your face.

All sounds fell silent.

No light.

No movement.

Not even the whisper of air.

Only… me, Cairo…

and perhaps something else.

Something that had closed the door…

extinguished the candle…

Maybe it was the doll.

I felt the tension flare in my chest, my senses screaming alarms. I whispered, my voice shaky and broken:

"C-Cairo? Are you there?"

I listened into the dark, panic swelling in me, until his voice came—soft, near, and just as shaken:

"Y-Yeah... I'm right beside you…"

His voice trembled slightly, laced with unease—something rare from Cairo, who was always composed, always calm. That alone was enough to tell me this had gone far beyond a joke or passing fear.

I whispered again, trying to suppress the tremble in my own voice:

"W-We have to get out of here... Now."

I began moving slowly, waving my hand in front of me as if swimming through a sea of blindness, afraid of bumping into something... or someone.

The floor was cold beneath my feet, and the air was heavy—filled with something I couldn't name. Not just air… it felt as though the room itself pulsed with a hidden, unseen life.

I reached out, groping until I found the door.

My hand grasped the handle slowly—I took a deep breath… and pulled.

Nothing.

I pulled harder… nothing.

I tried twisting it with force… still nothing.

I went quiet, sweat gathering on my brow—not from effort, but from the slow-spreading terror creeping through my limbs.

I whispered again, voice low and unsteady:

"U-uh, Cairo… I think we're in trouble... big trouble."

His voice came closer, just as tense as mine:

"W-What? What do you mean?"

Then he stepped forward and whispered:

"Step aside… I'll open it."

I felt his hand gently push me back a step.

Then came the sound of him trying the handle.

Once…

Twice…

Then silence.

As if the world itself had paused—leaving only the sound of our shallow breaths.

But the door did not open.

It remained shut.

And I knew.

Cairo knew.

Even the walls around us knew…

We were not alone.

...

Silence blanketed the room like a black shroud.

No light. No sound. Just trembling breaths.

And then, caught in that space between hope and fear, Cairo whispered with a quiver, as he tried the handle again:

"W-What is this? Why won't it open?!"

His voice was a blend of disbelief, anger, and fear—

a tone I had never heard from him before.

As if his usual confidence had fractured.

Suddenly… I heard something being slowly drawn.

The sound of steel brushing against leather.

A sound I knew all too well.

A sword.

Cairo's sword.

Then came a harsh metallic clang—

like steel striking solid iron:

"KROOM!"

The echo rang through the storage room, drumming in my ears like a terrifying war cry.

My body tensed.

I stammered, barely able to speak:

"C-Cairo...? A-Are you alright?"

A heavy silence followed, as if time itself held its breath to make sure he was still alive.

Then his voice came, low and shaken:

"W-Why won't this door open? I hit it with my sword—with everything I had... What kind of door doesn't react to a blade?!"

That's when it hit me.

The sound I heard… hadn't come from the outside.

It was Cairo, trying to break through.

But the question that stabbed through me wasn't about the door...

It was about Cairo.

Didn't he think?

Didn't he realize what could happen if something inside heard us?

I hissed in a whisper, my fear laced with fury:

"You idiot… Why did you do that?! Now the doll might attack us!"

His breath came fast, his reply tight with suppressed panic:

"And what did you expect me to do?! Be trapped in a pitch-black room with a moving, vanishing doll and do nothing?! Hit the wall or hit myself?!"

I was about to fire back…

when a third voice cut through our whispering.

A voice that wasn't mine.

And wasn't Cairo's.

A voice that belonged to something else.

A female voice.

Childlike…

But distorted.

Not the voice of an innocent girl,

but the cracked whisper of a broken doll—

hiding something cruel beneath its cold breath.

"Are you done talking?"

I froze.

It felt like my blood had stopped flowing.

Like the air had been sucked out of the room.

I didn't move.

I didn't breathe.

Even Cairo—solid, unshakable Cairo—stood like a statue beside me.

The voice hadn't been loud…

but it pierced to the core of my chest like a cold dagger driven into a sleeping child's heart.

It didn't come from one clear place…

It felt like it came from everywhere.

From the shadows.

From the floor.

From behind the crates.

From the walls themselves.

Seconds passed…

but they felt like a century.

And just as we stood there, paralyzed by what we'd heard—

The voice came again.

Clearer.

Closer.

More twisted—its tone dripping with malice and mockery, savoring our paralysis:

"So… now that you're done talking…"

A short pause.

Then a long, twisted giggle that spiraled into madness:

"Shall we begin the game?... Heeheeheeheeheeheehee…"

My heart clenched.

Every hair on my body stood on end.

It was real.

There was no doubt anymore.

The doll… could talk.

And think.

And plan.

And it was waiting for us… to play "the game."

In a flash, my life reeled before my eyes.

Memories scattered like an old film spinning out of control—

the faces of those I loved…

my family…

my old world…

the life I no longer knew if I'd ever return to.

Cairo stood beside me, silent.

He didn't need to speak.

Even in the dark, though we couldn't see each other—

our eyes met.

We were frozen.

Powerless.

But we both understood what that voice meant.

The doll hadn't just been watching us.

It had been waiting…

For the right moment…

To begin the game.