The word "eat" hung in the air, heavy and cold, an out-of-place concept next to the sweet scent of cookies. The silence returned to the living room, broken only by the sound of the movie that Chloe completely ignored.
(Y/N) felt a chill that had nothing to do with Chloe's words. It was a slow, painful realization: Chloe did not seem to be making up a story to scare them. She believed every word. And if Chloe believed the subway "ate" parts of people, it meant she believed that a part of Alex – and perhaps a part of (Y/N) after their "accident" – was still there.
— (Y/N): What did you see, Chloe? — (Y/N)'s voice was a whisper.
Chloe stopped looking at the screen and finally fixed her eyes on (Y/N). They were clear, analytical, and, for the first time, did not bear the trace of the obsession she always showed. They looked scared.
— Chloe: I didn't see anything. I didn't want to see it. I just... was there. Near the service exit, that night. He called me, said he had found something in one of the abandoned carriages. I tried to stop him. I yelled at him over the phone. — Her voice cracked slightly, a fleeting fissure in her perfect façade. Then she composed herself—. He told me he was finally going to stop being imperfect. And he left. The next day I found out.
(Y/N) noticed the detail, the subtle but crucial inconsistency: if he had committed suicide, why was Chloe insisting on the idea of "imperfection"?
— (Y/N): If you didn't see anything, how do you know there are things moving under the tracks, or that the place eats people? Did Alex tell you?
Chloe took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling barely perceptibly. She leaned toward (Y/N), the movie music now a distant murmur.
— Chloe: They are not just stories, (Y/N). You weren't the only one who had that "nightmare". Alex sent me a message hours before... it was a photo. A photo of the tracks in the darkness. And just before the time it... happened, he sent me one last message: "They are here, they are looking for me."
That message. That phrase. It shifted the conversation from personal tragedy to something actively dangerous.
— (Y/N): What do you think it is? What is "hidden in that place"?
— Chloe: I don't know. And I don't want to know. What I do know is that I was there, and the next day, when the police questioned me, I felt... empty. As if the capacity to feel anything other than the need for things to be in order had been drained from me.
(Y/N) swallowed. The idea that Chloe, with her obsession with perfection, was linked to a being or force that devoured emotions and mental clarity was terrifying.
They got up from the sofa. The time for confiding was over. (Y/N)'s curiosity was dangerous; it was a need for survival. They needed to go back to the place that had given them back their life.
— (Y/N): I need to go there.
Chloe abruptly stood up.
— Chloe: No, (Y/N). The police closed the investigation. There is nothing to see.
— (Y/N): There is something in my head, Chloe. There is something that won't let me rest, and if it took a part of you or Alex... I need to find out how to get it back.
Chloe approached, and for the first time, her touch felt more like a desperate warning.
— Chloe: Listen to me, (Y/N). Something in that place doesn't want you to return. Be grateful you're still alive. If you go back, it will take you too. And there will be no turning back.
(Y/N) gently pulled their hand away. They saw the fear in Chloe's eyes, a genuine fear they couldn't deny. But behind that fear, (Y/N) saw the shadow of the train, the cold of the night, and the inexplicable sense of vitality that had returned with their nightmare.
— (Y/N): I'm sorry. I have to do this. If that place made you who you are now, I have to know how to fix it.
They headed for the door, feeling Chloe's piercing gaze on their back. They knew Chloe wouldn't physically stop them, but the warning resonated in their mind like the bell of an approaching train: Curiosity is dangerous.
Outside, the city night seemed darker, and the lights of the streetlamps cast elongated, twisting shadows... as if something were moving underground.
Autor:
The last chapters have been shorter because I have too many school exams and I work all the time, I'm sorry.