I remember only up to the moment I screamed.
After that—
there is nothing.
When I opened my eyes, the very first thing I felt
was pain.
A sharp, stinging burn spread across my entire body,
especially near my chest and shoulders.
It felt as if someone had just pressed a red-hot iron against my skin.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
The ceiling.
My room's ceiling.
I was lying on my bed.
For a brief moment, I thought—
perhaps everything had been a dream.
The underground chamber.
Ales's burned face.
Her whispering voice—
all of it.
But then
the smell reached my nose.
The bitter scent of burnt ash.
I slowly sat up.
The left side of my chest felt heavy.
When I lifted my hand and touched the spot—
I flinched.
The skin was hot.
Unnaturally hot.
I rushed to the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror,
I slowly lowered my clothes.
And then—
Right over my chest,
exactly above my heart,
there was a burn mark.
It looked exactly like a fire burn.
But the strangest thing was—
there were no blisters,
no blood.
Only a dark, ash-colored imprint.
The shape of the mark curved like a tongue of flame.
My breath trembled.
"H-how… how did this happen?"
The sound of my own voice scared me.
I had not fallen into fire.
No one had touched me.
And yet—
this mark was here.
Suddenly, a faint humming echoed inside my ear.
It felt as if someone far away was calling my name—
"Na… zi… ba…"
I spun around in front of the mirror.
No one.
The bathroom door was open.
The room was empty.
Everything was normal.
Except the mark on my chest.
That was real.
I didn't go to the office that day.
I took leave.
My body felt weak,
and every now and then my head started to spin.
But the most terrifying part was this—
Every so often,
flashes of fire would appear before my eyes.
One moment I would be in my room.
The next—
I would be standing before an iron post,
fire all around me,
people screaming.
Then everything would dissolve again.
I understood—
These were not my memories.
These belonged to someone else.
To Ales?
Near noon,
I gathered my courage and went to the library.
In daylight, the place felt relatively normal.
Not as terrifying as it did at night.
The moment I looked at the desk,
my chest tightened.
The book was open again.
I was sure—
I hadn't even touched it last night.
I walked closer, slowly.
Today, the pages were not violently turned.
They were opened with care.
And the writing was new.
"Last night, the fire left my body and searched for another.
Someone saw me.
Someone stood on the other side of the door."
My hands began to shake.
"She was afraid.
But she did not run.
So the fire touched her."
The burn mark on my chest suddenly felt as if it flared alive.
"I will remain near her heart.
That is where the fire is strongest."
I could read no more.
I slammed the book shut.
That evening, something strange happened again.
I was sitting on the sofa
when suddenly, on the glass of the window,
my reflection trembled.
As if another face
was sliding over mine.
For a single moment,
instead of my own reflection,
I saw a burned face.
Shriveled lips.
Eyes blazing with fire.
Then everything vanished.
I jumped up with a scream.
Gasping, I said—
"That's not me… that's not me…"
But my voice—
for one second—
did not sound like my own.
For a fleeting moment,
it sounded as if two people were speaking together.
That night, I couldn't sleep at all.
The moment I closed my eyes,
I saw fire.
The moment I covered my ears,
I heard whispers.
And the mark on my chest—
with every breath—
was growing slowly, unbearably hotter.
In the middle of the night,
a crystal-clear voice spoke from inside me—
"I am entering…
little by little…"
Trembling,
I pressed my hand tightly over my chest.
And then I understood—
The door is not only in the underground chamber anymore.
The door…
now exists inside my own body.