Echoes of the Abyss.... again
Diane's Perspective
The darkness was suffocating. It stretched beyond sight, beyond comprehension, an endless void that pulsed with unseen horrors. Diane floated weightlessly, her body suspended in a realm that did not obey the laws of reality. The air—if it could be called that—was thick with whispers, voices layered upon voices, each one murmuring her name in tones both reverent and accusing.
She tried to move, but her limbs felt distant, as if they belonged to someone else. The sensation of weightlessness wasn't just physical—it was spiritual, an unraveling of the self. The Abyss wasn't merely consuming her; it was dissecting her piece by piece.
A voice—his voice—rose above the others, deep and mocking.
"Welcome home, Diane."
Her breath hitched. The voice was familiar in a way that sent ice crawling down her spine. It was her own voice, twisted and layered over with something greater, something vast.
She struggled against the nothingness, her memories flickering like dying embers. Where was she? How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was—
Ren.
His cryptic words. His knowing smirk.
"You should be careful what truths you seek."
A terrible realization clawed its way into her mind. This wasn't just the Abyss. This was something else, something deeper. And it wanted her to see.
Fragments of a Forgotten Life
The void around her trembled, rippling like disturbed water. Suddenly, she was no longer floating—she was standing in a cell, the stone walls slick with a faint luminescence. Chains hung from the ceiling, etched with unfamiliar symbols. The air smelled of ozone and something acrid, something wrong.
A woman stood before her, draped in tattered robes. Her hair was matted, streaked with silver. Shadows clung to her skin like living things, writhing and whispering.
Diane took a step forward, her heart hammering.
The woman looked up.
And Diane was staring at herself.
Her breath left her in a rush. The other Diane—her mirror image—was older, worn by time and suffering. But the real horror wasn't the age—it was the emptiness in her eyes.
"You're not real," Diane whispered.
The prisoner Diane tilted her head. "Neither are you."
The chains rattled as she moved, stepping closer, her expression unreadable. "Do you know why you're here?"
"I—" Diane faltered. "I don't understand."
Her counterpart gave a hollow laugh. "No, you wouldn't. Not yet."
The shadows around the cell thickened, coiling like smoke. Images flickered within them—scenes that sent a violent chill through Diane's spine.
A boy wielding a golden roulette wheel, spinning it with a flick of his fingers.
A girl laughing beside him, her eyes bright with power.
A man—Mike?—standing in the distance, his features blurred, lost in time.
Diane staggered back. "No. That's not real. That's not—"
Her double's gaze sharpened. "Isn't it?"
The roulette wheel spun, glowing brighter with each rotation, until it was the only thing left in the darkness.
The Weight of Choices
Diane gasped, her body jolting as if she had been struck. The cell was gone. The void returned, vast and unrelenting, but the images still burned in her mind.
Tom. Stacy. Mike.
Gone.
But not just gone—erased. By her.
"No," she whispered, her hands trembling. "That's not true."
Isn't it?
The voices taunted her, feeding on the doubt she could no longer suppress. Had she destroyed them? Had she rewritten existence itself, reshaping reality with her own hands?
Ren's words echoed in her mind. "The truth is not always kind, Diane."
She clenched her fists, forcing the tremors in her body to still. "Then I'll change it. I'll fix it."
Laughter rippled through the void, cruel and knowing.
"You already tried."
A force wrenched her downward, dragging her deeper into the Abyss. The darkness devoured her scream, and the last thing she saw was the golden roulette wheel, spinning endlessly, deciding the fate of worlds.
Awakening
Diane's eyes snapped open. Cold stone pressed against her back, the scent of damp earth filling her lungs. She was back. Somehow, she was back.
But the whispers still lingered, curling around her mind like phantom hands.
She pushed herself up, her limbs shaking. The images from the Abyss hadn't faded—they burned behind her eyes, demanding to be acknowledged.
Tom.
Stacy.
Mike.
And the roulette wheel that determined the fate of all things.
Her breath shuddered. She had spent so long believing she was in control, that she understood the nature of time, of cause and effect.
But now… she wasn't sure of anything.
A shadow moved at the edge of the cavern. She tensed, instincts kicking in. But as the figure stepped forward, the tension in her body gave way to something else—
Hope.
"Nisse," Diane breathed.
The woman rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside Diane. "You're alive."
Diane swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I think so."
Gar loomed behind Nisse, arms crossed. "You disappeared into the Abyss. We thought you were gone."
"I almost was," Diane admitted, her fingers curling around the damp stone beneath her. "But I saw something. Something I don't understand."
Nisse searched her face. "Then let's figure it out. Together."
Diane exhaled slowly, nodding. "Together."
But in the back of her mind, the whispers remained.
"You can't outrun the past."