The cold hit first.
Not the kind of cold that bit the skin, this sank into bone.
Aiden's eyes snapped open to a green-black void. His lungs screamed, ribs aching, bubbles of breath clawing their way up from his mouth. He was under water.
Not just any water, ice water, the kind that felt alive, pressing and squeezing him like it wanted to hold him there.
Above him, a faint shimmer, the warped, dancing image of a moon behind a sheet of ice.
He kicked. His limbs felt slow, syrup-thick. His chest burned. He reached upward, desperate. His palms slammed against the ice. Thin cracks spiderwebbed under his hands. The muffled sound of his own heartbeat pounded in his skull.
Then—
A voice. Smooth. Low. Just behind his left ear.
"Breathe, Aiden."
The voice carried laughter buried in its tone, like it already knew he couldn't.
The ice gave way, not in shards, but in a ripple. The surface didn't shatter; it melted into black smoke that dragged him upward, then flung him forward.
He landed hard on a dusty carpet. His knees stung.
Aiden blinked. The room was small, dingy, lit by a single bare bulb that buzzed with a dying filament. The wallpaper peeled in damp strips.
At the far end, a woman stood in the doorway. Her coat was zipped, a suitcase in her right hand.
The boy, small, no more than six, stood frozen in the center of the room. Bare feet. Pajamas too thin for the winter. His hair stuck to his forehead, eyes too big for his face.
The woman didn't say goodbye. She didn't kneel. She didn't even look back. The door closed with a click.
The boy's breathing hitched once, twice… then he didn't move at all. Just stared at the door.
"She left you too, didn't she?"
the entity's voice slid into his skull, velvet and venom.
"You remember the sound of the lock turning. The way the room smelled of cold dust and cigarettes. You learned something that night."
Aiden's throat was tight.
The floor fell away.
Aiden stood in a brighter room now, the glow of an old television painting the walls in electric blue. Two boys sat cross-legged on the floor, controllers in their hands, plastic clicking under their fingers.
They laughed. Shoved each other. The sound was warm.
Aiden recognized one of the boys, his younger self, cheeks fuller, hair a mess. The other boy had a wide grin, the kind that reached his eyes.
The laughter cut off mid-breath.
The TV screen warped, the colors bleeding until the shapes on it were just… wrong. Faces stretched. The game's background music slowed, distorted into something deeper, wet, and crawling.
The boy next to young Aiden turned his head toward him. His eyes were pits—deep, empty, swallowing light.
"Friendships don't last,"
the entity murmured.
"Not when the world is hungry."
The shadows at the edges of the room surged inward.
Darkness.
From somewhere behind him, high and sharp, a woman's laugh sliced the air. It wasn't a mirth. It was a laugh that knew your secrets.
It echoed from nowhere and everywhere. The sound curled around Aiden's spine.
"She's still laughing, Aiden. Even after all this time."
A flash of light—
The bathroom tile was cracked under his feet.
A woman lay slumped against the tub; her face blurred like an out-of-focus photograph. The only sharpness was in her arm, pale skin stretched thin over bone, a rubber band tube still cinched above the crook of her elbow. A needle dangled from her vein.
Blood pooled beneath her, creeping toward the drain.
The smell was metallic. Sweet in the worst way.
"Do you want to save her?"
the entity asked, mock-innocent.
"Or do you want to admit you didn't try?"
Aiden's knees trembled. The woman's blurred face twitched, like it almost wanted to look at him.
The sound of a gun cocking cracked through the air—
The world tilted.
Aiden was in a dim, cluttered living room now. A man, young, but hard in the face, stood with his hands shaking around a pistol.
Across from him, a woman sat frozen in a chair. Behind her, another figure, a woman older, dressed in shadows, face obscured.
The young man's breath hitched once. Then he pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening. The woman's head snapped back.
Aiden flinched, but the entity only chuckled.
"You can never unhear that, can you?"
Rain. Heavy, relentless.
Through the downpour, fire climbed the sides of an old brick apartment complex. Windows burst, spilling orange light into the night.
Screams cut through the storm. Sirens wailed somewhere far off. The air stank of smoke and wet brick.
Aiden's hair clung to his forehead. Water streamed down his face, but his cheeks burned hot.
"You know this place,"
the voice purred.
"The rain couldn't wash it clean."
Inside.
The walls were blackened. The air so thick with soot Aiden's throat burned with every breath.
A chair sat in the center of the room. In it, a body. A woman, skin blistered and cracked, fused to the fabric. Her teeth were clenched. A single tear track was burned into her cheek.
Aiden's stomach twisted violently.
"She cried for you,"
the entity whispered.
"But you didn't hear."
Rain still fell, but now it pounded against the pavement.
Two men crashed into each other, fists swinging. The sound of knuckles against flesh was wet, rhythmic. One staggered, caught himself, swung back harder.
Then—flash of silver.
The first man drew a gun. The shot was point-blank.
Aiden's ears rang. The smell of cordite filled the air.
Silence.
A vault door loomed before him, its steel face glinting in dim light. Money, bundles, crates of it, lay inside. The air smelled of paper and dust.
The door began to swing shut, slow, deliberate.
"This is where it ends,"
the entity said softly.
"Not in blood. Not in fire. In greed."
The lock spun.
The darkness surged forward, swallowing the vault, swallowing Aiden.
The entity's voice was no longer behind him; it was inside him.
"I'll see you again when you wake. And every night after."
Aiden's scream never left his throat before the world went black.
The images shattered, fragments swirling into nothingness. Aiden felt himself falling through endless darkness, the cold pressing in like a shroud. But then, warmth, soft and irresistible brushed against his skin. A voice, low and honeyed, breathed promises and temptation.
He opened his eyes to find her: a woman with short hair, dark and sleek like midnight silk, framing a face that was at once foreign and achingly familiar. Her misty green eyes held him captive, glowing softly in the hazy light.
She smiled, lips full and inviting, the curve slow and deliberate. Her touch was gentle, fingers trailing along his arm like whispered secrets. The scent of jasmine and rain wrapped around him, intoxicating and dangerous.
"You trust me," she said, voice a velvet caress that wrapped tightly around his mind. "Let me ease your pain."
Her body pressed closer, heat blooming beneath his skin. Her lips met his with a slow hunger, the taste bittersweet, like hope laced with poison.
The entity's voice, now softer, more seductive, wove through the kiss. "Give in, Aiden. Let me be your escape."
And in that moment, tangled in shadow and desire, he almost did.