The wind howled through the dark streets, carrying with it the scent of rain yet to fall. Raiden walked alone, his hood pulled low over his face, shielding him from the world he had learned to hate. His footsteps echoed through the empty alleyways, each step heavier than the last, as though something inside him was dragging him down.
It had been days since Kaia had last tried to reach out, her final words replaying in his mind. "We'll find a way to put you back together."
Raiden scoffed under his breath. She didn't understand. She couldn't. No one could. The fractures in him weren't the kind you could just glue back together. His heart wasn't made of fragile glass—it was stone, eroded by the relentless waves of life.
But tonight, something felt different. The air itself was charged, alive with an energy Raiden couldn't explain. The voice had been quiet for a while now, but he could feel it lurking, watching him, waiting for the perfect moment to whisper again. He didn't know whether to dread it or crave it.
As he rounded a corner, he found himself standing in front of an old, run-down building. Its windows were broken, and graffiti marred its once-pristine walls. The place had been abandoned for years, left to rot like so many forgotten things in this part of the city. Yet, there was something about it that drew him in tonight—something in the way it loomed above him, imposing and silent.
'Why am I here?' Raiden asked himself, but his feet were already moving, carrying him closer to the entrance. The door hung crookedly on its hinges, but it gave way with a soft creak as he pushed it open.
Inside, the air was musty, thick with dust and decay. Broken furniture littered the floor, and the walls were smeared with grime. It was the kind of place no one cared about, no one bothered to fix. A forgotten shell of what it once was.
Just like him.
Raiden wandered through the dilapidated rooms, his mind drifting. This place felt like a reflection of his own soul—cracked, broken, and filled with shadows. He paused in what used to be a living room, staring at the remnants of a shattered mirror on the wall. For a moment, he could almost see his reflection in the fractured glass, staring back at him with the same dead eyes.
Suddenly, the voice returned.
"This is what you are now," it whispered, echoing through his thoughts. "A ruin. A hollow shell. But it doesn't have to stay this way."
Raiden's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "What do you want from me?" he growled, his voice low, dangerous. He was tired of these games, tired of being haunted by something he couldn't understand.
"I want to show you the truth," the voice replied, soft and persuasive. "I want to show you what lies beneath the surface. You've been hiding from it, but deep down, you know what you're becoming."
Raiden felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The voice wasn't lying. He could feel it—the darkness creeping closer, its tendrils wrapping around his thoughts, pulling him deeper into its embrace.
"What if I don't want to know?" Raiden muttered, his voice barely audible.
"But you do," the voice insisted. "You've always wanted to know. That's why you come here. That's why you're standing in this place. You're ready to see what lies beneath the surface of your own soul."
Raiden's breathing quickened as the shadows in the room seemed to shift, coalescing into something more tangible, more real. The darkness around him deepened, pressing in from all sides. His vision blurred, and the room seemed to warp and twist, as though reality itself was bending under the weight of something far more sinister.
Then, the world went black.
Raiden woke with a start, gasping for breath as he found himself lying on the cold, hard floor of the abandoned building. His heart pounded in his chest, and his hands were trembling. The voice was gone, but the weight of its presence still lingered in the air, like the faintest echo of a scream.
For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming. But then he noticed the blood.
It was smeared across his hands, dark and sticky, as though he had clawed his way through something viscous and alive. Panic surged through him, and he scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. What had happened? What had he done?
His eyes darted around the room, and that's when he saw it—the door in the far corner, half-hidden behind a pile of debris. It was slightly ajar, as though someone—or something—had recently passed through. Raiden's instincts screamed at him to run, to get out of this place, but his feet moved on their own, drawing him closer to the door.
The air grew colder the closer he got, each step sending a chill down his spine. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering above the door handle. Every fiber of his being told him to turn back, to leave this place behind and forget whatever was waiting for him on the other side.
But he couldn't. He had come this far. He had to know.
With a deep breath, Raiden pushed the door open.
What he saw on the other side made his blood run cold.
It was a room unlike any other in the building—pristine, untouched by time or decay. The walls were lined with strange symbols, glowing faintly in the dim light. In the center of the room stood a stone altar, and lying on the altar was something—or someone—bound in chains, their body limp, blood pooling beneath them.
Raiden staggered back, his stomach churning as he took in the sight. Who—or what—was this? And why did it feel like the scene was meant for him?
Before he could process the horror of what he was seeing, the voice returned, louder and more commanding than ever before.
"This is who you are, Raiden. This is what you've been running from. The darkness is part of you, and it's time to stop pretending otherwise."
Raiden fell to his knees, clutching his head as the voice grew louder, more insistent. The symbols on the walls pulsed with a sickly light, and the room seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with its weight.
"You've been fighting it for too long," the voice hissed, wrapping itself around his thoughts. "But you can't fight who you are. You are the darkness. You are the rage. You are the chaos."
Raiden's vision blurred, his thoughts spiraling out of control. He didn't know how much longer he could hold on, how much longer he could resist.
But deep down, he wasn't sure he wanted to anymore.
As the symbols flared brighter and the voice whispered its final command, Raiden felt something snap inside him.
And in that moment, the boy he once was ceased to exist.
The next day, Raiden didn't go back to school. He didn't see Kaia. He didn't return to his old life at all.
Because that life was over.
The darkness had finally claimed him.