We slipped out of the manor like thieves.
The estate garden was quiet, the kind of silence that made every footstep feel like a mistake.
The moon hung low above us, pale and watchful. I led the way, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure someone would hear it.
I stopped near the exit.
Slowly, carefully, I lifted my hand and pressed it forward.
The air pushed back.
That same invisible resistance—soft, springy, wrong. Like touching the surface of deep water without breaking it.
"It's still there," I whispered.
Rose swallowed. "Then… how do we get rid of it?"
I didn't answer.
I didn't have one.
Amily stepped closer, her face pale and tight with frustration. She reached out and touched the barrier herself, pulling her hand back quickly.
"What is this?" she demanded. "This isn't possible. You're saying the air just… stops?"
That's when it hit me.
I hadn't questioned it.
Not really.
I had accepted the barrier the way you accept pain in a nightmare—without logic, without resistance. But now, hearing Amily say it out loud, my mind finally caught up.
How was this possible?
What kind of place builds walls you can't see?
What kind of authority allows this?
Before I could speak—
BANG.
The sound cracked through the night.
I turned.
My breath left my body all at once.
Rose stood frozen, her face twisted into an expression I had never seen before—pure, animal horror. Her eyes weren't on me.
They were on Amily.
Amily blinked, confused.
Something dark dripped from her mouth.
She lifted her hand to her lips, staring at her fingers as if they belonged to someone else.
Then she looked down.
Her clothes were soaked. Too much.
"Amily…" Rose whispered, taking a step forward.
Amily looked at us—at me—her eyes wide, searching for an explanation I couldn't give.
Then her knees buckled.
She collapsed onto the grass.
Rose screamed.
Gunshots rang out again—sharp, controlled, close.
One pierced the tree behind us, I grabbed Rose's arm and pulled her away.
"Run!" I shouted.
We didn't look back.
We ran blindly through the estate garden, branches tearing at our clothes, breath burning our lungs. My mind was empty except for one thought repeating over and over:
They're killing us.
Suddenly, my foot pressed down on something that clicked.
The ground vanished and we fell.
The earth swallowed us whole.
We landed hard, the impact knocking the air from my chest. Rose cried out beside me.
For a moment, I thought my legs were broken.
But the ground was solid.
Stone.
I sat up, coughing, my hands shaking as I pulled my phone from my pocket and turned on the flashlight.
The beam cut through darkness, revealing narrow stone walls.
A tunnel.
Hidden. Purpose-built.
Rose was behind me, sobbing quietly.
"What is this place?" she whispered. "What's happening?"
I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
Because the truth was—I didn't know.
And worse, a part of me already understood something else.
We weren't meant to leave this island.
We walked for what felt like forever. Time lost its meaning underground. My phone clock flickered uselessly. Fifteen minutes passed—or maybe an hour.
Then we found a door.
Metal. Old. Heavy.
We stood in front of it, breathing shallowly.
"What if…" Rose began, then stopped.
I swallowed and reached for the knob.
The door creaked open.
Darkness poured out.
My flashlight flickered.
Dimmed.
"No—no, no," I whispered, shaking it.
I felt along the wall until my fingers brushed against a switch.
I flipped it.
The lights came on. The room was small.
And it was wrong.
The air smelled sharp and metallic. The walls were lined with tools—rusted, stained, arranged neatly. Tables stood in rows, their surfaces darkened by old, dried marks that no amount of cleaning could erase.
And in the center—
Oh, my god…..