The vent was too tight for Evan to turn around, too narrow for him to crawl quickly, and too dark for him to see more than a faint outline of metal ahead. His elbows throbbed from scraping against the edges. Sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eyes. Every breath felt loud enough to betray his location.
But none of that compared to the sound coming ahead of him.
Breathing.
Low.
Wet.
Guttural.
Not human.
The kind of breathing that didn't come from lungs—it came from something imitating lungs.
Evan froze, his palms pressed flat against the cold metal. His heartbeat pounded even louder, echoing through the vent like a drum.
It's in front of me, he thought.
It's not supposed to be in front. I heard it behind… so how…?
The breathing grew louder.
Closer.
And then—
A whisper.
"Evannnn…"
It was the same voice he heard outside the maintenance room. But this time… it wasn't angry. It was smiling.
Evan swallowed hard, tasting copper. He forced himself to move backward. Inch by inch. His shoes scraped against the metal, sending soft metallic echoes down the vent.
He had barely moved a meter when something scraped the metal ahead.
S C R R R T T T C H—
He wanted to scream. He wanted to burst through the vent walls and run until his legs gave out. But he kept crawling backward, pushing himself with trembling arms.
Then the metal ahead bowed inward.
Just slightly.
Like something heavy was pressing from the other side.
Oh God. It knows exactly where I am.
The breathing turned into a soft, wet chuckle.
And then—
A hand punched through the vent metal ahead of him.
A hand, but not human. Fingers too long, skin stretched too thin, nails like shards of black glass. Bloodless and gray.
Evan's back hit the vent wall.
The hand groped blindly, searching the narrow space.
Searching for him.
Evan covered his mouth with both hands as a choked sob tried to escape.
The fingers grazed the air just inches from his feet.
Then the wrist twisted, cracking loudly, and the hand reached down the length of the vent, stretching impossibly far.
Evan kicked backward violently, pushing himself deeper into the vent. His heel struck the metal cover behind him—it rattled but didn't break.
The hand groped further.
Its fingertips brushed against his shoe.
Evan jerked his foot upward, twisting his body painfully. He kicked again and again, trying to get away, scraping his back against the vent ceiling. He felt the nails catching the fabric of his jeans—
A loud metallic thud reverberated through the vent above him, startling both him and the creature.
The hand hesitated.
Then retracted fast, dragging against the vent walls, leaving scratches that glowed faintly in the dark like burning lines.
Evan couldn't breathe.
He didn't know why the creature had pulled back.
He didn't care.
He crawled backward faster, scraping and bruising every part of himself in the desperate attempt to escape.
After what felt like endless movement, his foot hit something solid.
Another vent cover.
Locked.
"No no no no—" Evan whispered, pushing at it. "Come on—move!"
He braced his back against the opposite wall and kicked the cover with both feet.
CLANG.
Nothing.
The breathing returned.
From in front of him.
Closer.
Faster.
Like whatever was inside the vent had stopped pretending to move slowly.
Evan kicked again, harder.
CLANK.
The cover dented.
He kicked a third time, screaming despite himself.
CRASH—
The cover burst open, falling into an empty office room below. Evan fell with it, landing painfully on his shoulder.
But he was out of the vent.
For one precious second he felt fresh air brush his face.
Then he heard metal bending above.
The vent grille behind him warped outward—like something was crawling through it.
Fast.
Evan scrambled to his feet, stumbling over broken office chairs and desks. Papers littered the floor, yellowed and brittle. A shattered fluorescent light flickered overhead.
He ran to the office door—locked.
Again.
"Why?! Why is everything—"
The vent behind him split.
A thin, pale arm slithered out first, bending in three places. Then a head pushed through—shapeless, skin stretched tight, no eyes but somehow aware of everything around it. Its face—or the blank stretch that pretended to be one—turned toward him.
The skin wrinkled.
Forming something like a smile.
Evan slammed his shoulder into the office door. "OPEN!"
The door held firm.
Behind him, the creature began dragging itself out of the vent, limbs contorting unnaturally to fit the narrow passage. Wet scraping sounds filled the room.
Evan stepped back from the door, took three shaky breaths—then kicked the doorknob with every bit of strength he had left.
CRACK.
The lock snapped.
The door swung open.
Evan stumbled into a long corridor lit only by emergency strips along the floor. The darkness above seemed endless. Red lights pulsed slowly, as though the building were breathing with him—no, worse—breathing against him.
He sprinted down the hall.
Behind him, the office door creaked.
Then swung open.
The creature stepped out silently.
Its feet didn't touch the ground.
It hovered.
Evan didn't look back again.
He kept running until the hallway forked into three directions. No signs. No labels. Only shadows.
Left hallway: dead silent.
Middle hallway: something dripping.
Right hallway: the faint outline of an EXIT sign flickering.
Evan ran right.
He didn't know if it was a real exit or a trap, but he chose the only direction that suggested hope.
Halfway down the hallway he saw a door with the glowing red sign above it.
EXIT
He laughed—actually laughed—in disbelief. "Thank God—"
The lights flickered.
The exit sign blinked once… twice… then went dark.
"No. No, don't—don't you dare—"
He grabbed the exit door's handle.
It wasn't locked.
A miracle.
He pulled the door open—
And recoiled instantly.
There was no staircase.
No outside.
No escape.
Only more hallway.
A perfect copy of the hallway behind him.
Same walls.
Same shadows.
Same emergency lights.
It was like stepping into a loop.
Evan stumbled backward, chest tight. "This isn't real. This can't be real."
Footsteps sounded from the original hallway behind him.
Slow.
Dragging.
Evan slammed the exit door shut and ran blindly down the new corridor. His breath wheezed in his throat, his lungs burning with the effort. The air grew colder the further he went, so cold frost began to spread across the walls.
The hallway ended at a giant observation window.
Behind the glass was a huge room.
An underground chamber.
Dozens of monitors, all flickering with static.
A chair positioned at the center.
Straps attached.
A faint glow pulsed from the screens, and Evan felt something pulling him—something heavy, like pressure inside his skull.
He pressed a trembling hand against the glass.
Every monitor flickered at once.
Then images formed.
Each screen showed him.
Different angles.
Different moments.
Some from earlier tonight.
Some from the vent.
Some from the maintenance room.
Some from the lobby he didn't even remember passing.
One screen showed a hallway camera feed—
Except in the feed, Evan wasn't alone.
A tall shadow stood behind him.
Looming.
Watching.
Breathing.
Evan spun around.
No one was there.
But the air behind him was colder… as if something had just moved away.
The monitors changed again.
Now they showed footage of other people.
Dozens of them.
Different ages.
Different clothing.
All crawling through the same building.
All screaming.
All being dragged into vents.
All vanishing.
Evan staggered back from the glass. "What is this place…?"
A whisper echoed across the hallway—not from behind the glass, not from the vents, but from all around him.
"You're next, Evan."
He bolted in the opposite direction, not caring where he went, not caring what he smashed into. He found stairs—real stairs this time—spiraling downward into blackness.
He didn't think.
He descended.
Faster.
Faster.
Until he reached the bottom where a massive metal door waited. Faded letters marked the front:
RESEARCH SUBLEVEL 3 – ACCESS RESTRICTED
Evan hesitated.
Only a second.
Behind him, something clicked in the dark above—like claws tapping the railing.
He shoved the metal door open and sprinted inside—
Straight into a room filled with broken containment chambers.
Each chamber had a number.
Each chamber had scratch marks on the inside.
Each chamber was shattered.
And on one of them was a word smeared in dried black:
RUN
Evan stumbled back as another word began to appear—slowly—across the fogged glass of the chamber beside it.
As if written by a finger on the inside.
TURN AROUND
Evan froze.
His breath stopped altogether.
He closed his eyes.
Then he slowly turned—
The creature was inches from his face.