Chapter 11
The Maze of Minds
The facility's layout seems to shift. Hallways lead back on themselves. The presence uses illusions, preying on their growing paranoia and anxieties.
The metal door groaned shut behind us, a sound that seemed to swallow the last vestiges of daylight. Liam, ever the first to act, was already fumbling with the flashlight, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "Come on, this thing's a piece of junk," he grumbled, tapping the casing. Chloe, typically calm, was scanning the corridor ahead, her brow furrowed. "It's just old, Liam. Give it a second."
But it wasn't just old. The air in here was thick, cloying, like dust and something else… something metallic and faintly sweet, like overripe fruit. A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature seeped into my bones. We’d been so focused on finding a way out, on the sheer, overwhelming panic of being trapped, that we hadn’t stopped to consider where we were trying to escape to. This place was a labyrinth, and the further we went, the more I felt its oppressive weight pressing down on us.
"Which way?" Chloe asked, her voice barely a whisper.
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