In the darkness of the empty building, sound seemed to take on a life of its own. Each noise echoed and reverberated, bouncing off the walls and creating an eerie cacophony of sound. Even the slightest rustle of a spider weaving its web seemed to fill the building, magnified by the stillness of the space. The chiming of a broken wind chime that hang somewhere sounded like thunder. An undeniable proof of how still and empty the house was. The absence of light only served to heighten the effect, making each noise sound more intense and overwhelming. It's as if sound was the only presence in the room, a tangible, living thing that filled the emptiness and darkness.

But that wasn't truly the case, because, in the attic, a teenage girl slowly regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and were met with nothing but impenetrable darkness. She gasped, then gagged. The air was thick with the stench of decay and it made her stomach churn. The vile scent was enough to fully awaken all her senses and as they did, she felt a heavy weight on her chest and a throbbing pain in her head.

She groaned. She tried to move but her arms felt heavy and her legs appeared to be restrained to the couch on which she lay. Panic set in as she looked around the pitch-black room, unable to see anything beyond her own body.

"H-Helo." She called out. But no one answered. She repeated the word a thousand times over, but nothing happened. The room remained dark and her surroundings remained still.

Her heart sank and tears flooded her eyes.

Another hour. Another minute. Another second passed. She couldn't truly tell time anymore. She sat craning her neck from left to right, tugging at her chains.

Soon, her mind swirled with questions. How did she get here? Why was she bound? Who had brought her here? And most importantly who was she?

Suddenly, she was startled by a voice. "The answer lies beyond the door," it said. "Should I open it for you?"

The teen's heart increased its beating as she strained to see where the voice came from. She couldn't catch sight of anyone or anything, but the sound seemed to be coming from somewhere nearby.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the idea that there might be a way out of this dark, oppressive place was too tempting to ignore.

"Yes," she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please open the door."

A few seconds ticked by, and just when she thought she had hallucinated the voice, she heard a creaking sound, and the door to the dark room slowly swung open. The sound echoed through the stillness, sending shivers down her spine. As the door opened wider, a thin sliver of light pierced through the darkness, casting a pale glow on her surrounding walls.

The light was faint at first, but as the door opened further, it grew brighter and more intense, illuminating the room with an eerie glow. The shadows of furniture danced and flickered in the strange light, creating an almost hypnotic effect.

For a moment, there was silence, as if the entire world had paused to witness the spectacle. Then, a rush of cold air swept through the room that caused a chill to run down her spine.

The door continued to open, revealing more and more of what surrounded her. A strip of light went past the foot of what seemed to be a stool. Then continued to create a narrow bright line on the floor until it reached her foot. It was then that she saw her metal restraints. It looked old and rusty. But it was for sure tough. She had used all her strength to free herself from it but it never gave way.

As the illumination got blindingly stronger she was forced to blink her eyes several times to clear her vision. And as her sight adjusted to the dim light, she began to make out the details of her surroundings. And what she saw made her gasp in horror.

The room was small and cramped, with walls that were covered in a thick layer of grime and gore. There were webs everywhere. A dead rat lay close to her bound foot which made her want to vomit once more. The scent of decay only heightened as that dead rat, a physical representation appeared; a tangible stimulus to solidify the stench and decay in the air.

Unable to stomach what she saw she clamped a hand over her mouth, but when a metallic scent exuded from her fingers she slowly dropped her arm and looked down at her hands. She gasped. The light earlier hadn't shown it because it only reached her foot, but now that everything was in clear view she saw that her hands were covered in blood. Tears filled her eyes. Panic set in as she once again tried to remember how she had gotten there, and what had happened. But her mind remained blank.

Her chest constricted and she gagged. She swung her head from side to side hysterically and just when she thought things couldn't get any worst, a scream escaped her mouth when her sight rested on a stool with someone covered in blood seated on it.

The person was restrained on the chair by a thick chain that circled her body and coiled further at the backrest of the chair. Her head was bent at a weird angle with her chin pressed on her chest. The person's hair curtained the side of her head obscuring a view of her face. She was small and thin. Her body seemed that of a child. Perhaps between ten and thirteen. "Hey, are you okay? Hey," she yelled. But the body on the chair hadn't moved nor said a word.

"She had her chance. Now it's time to take yours," came a whisper from her left. Immediately, she snapped her head in the direction of the voice. But she saw no one. She squinted her eyes and tried to make out a form or anything from the corner where she was sure the voice had come from, but it was empty. However, as weird as it may sound, even in the absence of any physical thing in that corner that she could associate with the voice, instincts told her that the person was there.

"Who are you? Where are you? Show yourself!" She yelled, voice cracking as tears streamed from her eyes.

"In a while, I will but, for now, look around you," the voice answered.

With her heart skipping in beats that made her chest expand unnaturally, she gazed at the person on the chair again. Then she craned her neck to her right, then to her left and then finally she turned her body to look behind her. What she saw knocked the air out of her lungs. It was a hand suspended in the air by a string with blood streaming from where it was severed down to its fingertips.

She wanted to scream. But she choked instead. Her lips quivered and once more tears escaped her eyes. Her heartbeat accelerated in ways it never had before. She was losing her mind. The situation was breaking her from the inside out. But it wasn't just the gore and blood surrounding her that was pushing her mind to near collapse, or the strange body-less voice that kept on talking as if it were coming from within her own head. It was the thought that even with the presence of luminance there seemed to be impenetrable darkness in her surroundings. And something told her that there was something more sinister lurking around her. Something worst than her, hearing a body-less voice or being surrounded by death.

She almost jumped off the couch when she felt a breath ghost by her nape and the words, "Look at it, doesn't the hand remind you of anything," was whispered to her ear.

"Who the hell are you? Leave me alone. Leave me alone," she yelled. But her cry was answered by laughter that thundered inside the room.

"Look at the hand and answer me! Does it remind you of anything!" The voice commanded.

She knew, despite not knowing who she was, where she was, and how she got there, that she at that moment, was dealing with something paranormal. It was too damn real to be her mind playing tricks on her. She was drowning in fear, yet still functioning properly. Nothing made sense. Nothing.

"Tell me. Does it remind you of anything?" The voice asked again.

Resigning to accept whatever it was that she was experiencing. She gazed at the hand. It did look familiar. Not its physical appearance but how it was suspended in the air. There was a familiarity with its position. Even the pool of blood below it nudged at her with a sense of overwhelming normalcy. It felt like the hand was supposed to be there, and not an anomaly.

She felt like she was about to lose consciousness not only because of her heartbeat which was beating too fast but also due to the overwhelming fear that consumed her mind. She was breaking, falling apart, and splitting.

"Please." She whispered. "Who are you? Where are you? Who am I? What is this?"

The voice did not answer. But the temperature inside the room suddenly dropped and icicles formed on crevices, furniture, and on the metal restraints around her ankle.

She was barely conscious when the voice finally spoke and said, "I'm right here."

Her hardly conscious mind followed the voice and it led her eyes toward the open door. There she saw a young man.

Forcing herself to remain lucid. She snapped her eyes open and shut. Then she took a deep breath and stared at the figure in the doorway.

He was tall and lean, with chiseled features and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. His hair was a wild mess of dark curls, and he had a rugged, unshaven look that only added to his enigmatic appeal. He was handsome but it wasn't that which caused her mouth agape. It was the blood that smeared his face from what she perceived was a long angry looking wound across his forehead.

He stood in the doorway with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance, and his gaze was heavy and calculating as he surveyed her.

Her body jerked when he started to move and stepped forward. She couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine. She tried to run away, but the chains on her ankle held her firmly in place.

She shivered and gazed mutely as his eyes flicked over her, gauging her worth with a cold detachment. His wound continuously oozed blood down his left cheek, but he seemed unfazed by it. In fact, it only added to his dangerous allure that had her heart skipping in weird beats.

She was petrified, unable to move or speak as he drew nearer. His gaze was unwavering, and she felt as if he could see right through her, straight into her soul.

As he finally came to a stop, two meters in front of her, she felt her pulse pounding in her ears. She braced herself for the worst, unsure of what was about to happen.

For a moment, there was silence as the two of them regarded each other. Then he smiled and said, "Hello Diana." His tone was jolly and his smile was bright. But it did nothing to ease her fear. She kept her eyes on him wide and filled with dread.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that. Did I scare you earlier? Did I? Did I?" He asked grinning. His tone was high and cheerful as if he found amusement in the situation.

She didn't respond. Her heartbeat and fear drowned everything.

"Are you broken," the young man asked, tone dropping. His voice turned cold and detached.

She nodded her head. Why she did so, only her splitting tortured mind could ever perceive.

"I guess it's time to get you out of here," she heard him say. "I'll release you from your binds."

He breached the remaining distance between them. Every one of his movements was executed with measured, yet effortless grace as he knelt in front of her and easily broke the metal restraint around her ankle.

Then he looked up and gawked at her face. He seemed to be studying her. Soon his gaze traveled down to her lips. His eyes glimmered into something more than curiosity. Then his hand reached out, tentatively attempting to touch her face, but he pulled away at the last minute. She saw desire his eyes. But the desire he exuded didn't expel sweetness, it felt dangerous.

His action brought her consciousness to life. She immediately raised both her feet on the couch and folded them close to her chest. Her action caused her to wince in pain. One of feet hurt. But she paid it no mind. The man knelt in front of her seemed to have been started by her reaction. His gaze shifted to something keen to a surprised expression. Then that expression was instantly replaced with a cold stare.

It made her flinch. It made shivers run down her spine.

He didn't linger long and stepped away from the couch without having said a word to her. She was thankful. Because the proximity they had was enough to make her heart beat like she ran a mile through the harshest desert under the midday sun.

"Your name is Diana. Now stop gawking. We have a lot to do," he said to her. There was coldness in his tone. He wasn't smiling anymore. His lips were in a grim line.

Diana, she thought to herself. The name didn't ring a bell. Was that really her name? She wondered.