The passageway stretched endlessly before me, its walls rough and damp under my fingertips. The further I ventured, the more the air grew stale, tinged with a metallic tang that made my stomach churn. I wasn't sure what I expected to find, but every step seemed to carry me further from the reality I thought I knew.
The faint glow of my phone's flashlight danced along the walls, revealing deep scratches gouged into the surface. Some resembled random marks, but others… others looked deliberate, almost like words. I paused, angling the light to make sense of the carvings.
HELP ME.
The words were jagged, etched with desperation. My breath hitched, and a shiver ran down my spine. I moved faster now, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.
The passage opened into a small, hidden chamber. The space was cluttered with strange items—a worn armchair, stacks of yellowing papers, a rusted lantern that hadn't been lit in years. But what caught my attention most was the large trunk in the corner.
It was old, its leather exterior cracked and its brass fittings tarnished with age. My hands trembled as I unlatched it, the hinges creaking ominously.
Inside, I found more photographs, most of them featuring Karen and David. But unlike the ones in the chest upstairs, these told a different story. David's expressions grew darker, more strained. Karen, too, looked tense, her smiles forced.
And then there was the final photo—a Polaroid of the two of them standing in this very chamber. Karen was holding something—a bundle wrapped in cloth. It took me a moment to realize it was a baby.
Me.
Beneath the photos lay a stack of notebooks, their pages filled with David's handwriting. I flipped through them, my heart sinking as I read.
"Karen is hiding something. She won't tell me where she goes when she disappears for hours. I'm starting to think she's lying about the baby."
"She keeps saying it's ours, but I know it's not. The timing doesn't add up. And now… now she's acting like I don't exist."
"If anything happens to me, it's Karen's doing."
I froze.
The final entry was short, scrawled in hurried letters.
"She said I'd never leave her. That we'd be together forever. I don't think I'll survive this."
The pages fell from my hands as a wave of nausea swept over me. My mind raced, piecing together fragments of a story I didn't want to believe.
When I returned to the main part of the house, Karen was waiting for me. She stood at the foot of the stairs, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.
"You've been snooping," she said, her voice calm but laced with menace.
"I found the passage," I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I found David's notebooks."
Her eyes darkened. "You shouldn't have done that, Alex."
"Why?" I demanded. "Why were you hiding all of this? What happened to him?"
Karen took a step toward me, her movements slow and deliberate. "David was weak," she said, her voice cold. "He couldn't handle the life we were building. He tried to leave us, Alex. He tried to abandon you."
"That's not what his notes said," I shot back. "He was scared of you."
She laughed, a bitter sound that sent a chill through me. "You don't understand," she said. "Everything I did, I did for you. For us."
"This isn't normal, Mom!" I shouted, my fear finally spilling over. "None of this is normal!"
Her expression softened, and for a moment, I saw the woman I had known all my life—the woman who had raised me, who had been my world. But then she spoke, and the illusion shattered.
"Normal doesn't matter, Alex," she said softly. "All that matters is that we're together. And no one can ever take you away from me."
Her words sent a surge of panic through me. I backed away, my mind racing for an escape. But before I could move, she reached out and grabbed my arm, her grip ironclad.
"You're not leaving," she said, her voice low and menacing. "Not now. Not ever."