They returned to the villa late, silence clinging to them like dust. Dinner was untouched. Nobody wanted to talk about the voices they'd heard at sunset.
Au sat apart, 55třtff ready to follow, but Gems laid a hand on his arm. "Let her be."
Alessandro watched the group with haunted eyes. "This road… it does not forgive. It remembers blood. And it always asks for more."
Nobody answered.
That night, sleep eluded them. Strange thuds echoed in the villa's halls. Shadows crawled under the doorframes. Liz dreamed of standing ankle-deep in black water, Roman chains dragging her down. She woke gasping, Amos clutching her hand.
Only Bob slept soundly — or seemed to. Anaya was in his room.
The next morning, the group gathered in the courtyard. The air was heavy with tension.
Au refused to look at Bob. "I don't know why you're here anymore," she said bitterly. "You promised my family you'd watch over me. Instead, you… you bring her." She jabbed a finger toward Anaya.
Bob's jaw tightened. "Au, I'm still here for you. But Anaya's not the enemy. She's helping us. Can't you see that?"
"Helping?" Au's voice cracked. "She's hollow. She doesn't blink. She doesn't eat. Have you noticed? Or are you too busy—"
"Enough!" Bob snapped, startling even himself. His hand clenched into a fist. Then, softer, "You don't understand. She gets me. She listens."
Anaya touched his arm gently. "Don't fight. That's what the road wants."
Her voice was silk and poison. Gems watched her closely — that too-perfect smile, the way the shadows seemed to cling to her feet though the sun was high.
She doesn't belong, Gems thought. She hungers.
That day, Alessandro led them deeper. Past broken walls, past crypts where ivy strangled carved names, past stones that bore faint red stains no time could wash away.
The further they went, the heavier the air grew.
Liz whispered, "I feel like someone's following us."
She wasn't wrong. Shadows flitted along the treeline. Sometimes, Gems thought she heard sandals slapping the stones, the clink of chains.
Anaya walked lightly beside Bob, her white dress glowing faintly even in shade.
Marky muttered under his breath to Gems, "She's not walking on the road. Look — her feet… they don't even press the dust."
Gems saw it too. And her stomach turned cold.
By dusk, they reached another ruin — a tall arch half-swallowed by weeds.
As they rested, Au tried again, softer this time. "Bob… please. You're not yourself. You look… sick."
He gave her a faint smile. "I've never felt more alive."
His hand slipped into Anaya's.
Au's breath caught, tears brimming. "You're choosing her over me? After everything—after all the years?"
Bob looked away, shame flickering in his eyes — but Anaya tilted his chin back, forcing his gaze to hers.
"Don't look back," she whispered. "The past only binds you. I can free you."
And Bob's shame vanished like mist. He kissed her hand, ignoring the pain in Au's eyes.
Au turned away, sobbing silently. Rica hugged her, glaring at Bob.
Gems whispered to Alessandro, "She's taking him. Piece by piece."
The guide's face was grim. "She won't stop until she owns him. Or until the road claims him."
Night fell as they made camp near the arch. Torches flickered weakly against the dark.
The group huddled together, except Bob — who stood apart with Anaya, just beyond the circle of light.
"Come back," Au begged softly. "Please, just sit with us."
Bob hesitated. Then Anaya leaned close, her lips brushing his ear.
His face slackened. His eyes glazed. Without a word, he followed her into the shadows.
"Bob?" Rica called.
No answer.
"Bob!" Amos shouted, grabbing a torch. He and Marky rushed forward, but the darkness swallowed them.
Gems clutched Alessandro's arm. "Where did they go?"
The guide's face was ashen. "The road took them."
A scream ripped through the night — Bob's voice, raw, terrified. "HELP! AU!"
Then silence.
When Amos and Marky returned, pale and shaking, they carried only Bob's dropped backpack. His phone, his wallet — everything. But no Bob.
Anaya reappeared at the edge of the firelight. Alone.
"I tried to save him," she said softly, eyes glistening with false sorrow. "But the road wanted him."
Chaos erupted.
Au lunged at her, screaming, "You liar! You took him! Where is he?!" Rica and Amos dragged her back as she thrashed.
Liz sobbed, camera shaking in her hands. "This isn't real, this isn't happening—"
Ry slammed his fist against a stone. "We should've left when we had the chance!"
Gems stood, trembling but firm. She pointed at Anaya. "You did this. You fed on him until he broke. And now he's gone."
For the first time, Anaya's smile faltered. Her eyes darkened.
"You think you can accuse me?" she whispered. "It was his choice. He wanted freedom. He wanted me."
Au's voice cracked, ragged and raw. "Then may the road eat you too."
The group turned away from Anaya, grief and rage boiling. She stood in silence, shadows curling around her ankles, her eyes unreadable.
The Decision
The night after Bob vanished, nobody truly slept. The fire sputtered low, shadows shifting unnaturally across the camp. Anaya sat apart, her expression unreadable, while Au clutched Bob's abandoned backpack like a lifeline.
When dawn ^ggbroke gray and sickly, Alessandro stood, his voice grim.
"We cannot leave him behind. If the road has taken Bob, it may not be too late. Sometimes… sometimes the missing can be found beneath."
"Beneath?" Rica asked, her face pale.
"The Appian Way is not only a road," Alessandro said. "It is built over tombs. Families buried their dead beneath the stones. Centuries of bones sleep underfoot. Some say they whisper to the living."
Au stood abruptly, eyes red and hollow. "Then we're going down there. We're finding him."
The entrance was nothing more than a cracked slab near the ruins of a villa, half-hidden under roots. The air that wafted out was foul and cold, smelling of dust, rot, and forgotten prayers.
They lit torches, their flickering flames fighting the dark.
Anaya smiled faintly as the light hit her face. "You will not like what you find down there."
"Shut up," Au hissed.
They descended.
The steps were uneven, worn smooth by time. The walls closed in, damp with centuries of seepage. Carved alcoves lined the passages, each filled with brittle bones.
Liz whispered, "They're watching us."
Nobody corrected her.
As they moved deeper, the whispers began. At first, faint — a sigh, a word in a tongue older than their own. Then clearer, echoing down the halls.
"Come."
"Stay."
"One of you is already ours."
Marky gripped his torch tighter. "It's just echoes. Just wind."
But then Amos froze. "Wait… do you hear that? That's Bob. That's him!"
He broke into a run, torchlight bouncing wildly.
"Amos, stop!" Liz screamed, chasing after him.
The others followed, their breaths ragged.
Amos skidded to a halt before a wall — solid stone, no opening. From beyond it, a muffled sob.
"Bob!" Amos slammed his fists against the rock, his voice cracking. "I'm here, bro, I'm here!"
The sobbing stopped. Silence. Then a low, guttural laugh slithered through the stones.
Amos stumbled back, his face ashen.
The curse grew heavier. Rica swore she heard Ry calling from deeper inside, though he was right beside her. Her hand trembled as she clutched his arm.
Liz's torch flickered. In its glow, she saw a figure standing among the alcoves. "Mom?" she whispered, stepping forward.
There was no one. Only skulls staring back.
Marky wiped blood from his nose, trying to hide it from Gems. His head pounded, filled with words in a language he didn't know but somehow understood.
"March. Die. Bleed. The road remembers."
Gems touched his shoulder, grounding him. For a heartbeat, the whispers receded.
"Stay close to me," she whispered.
They found scraps at last — torn cloth snagged on bone, stained dark. Bob's shirt.
Au crumpled to her knees, sobbing into it. "He was here… he was here!"
Carved into the wall above the alcove was fresh writing, though no hand among them could have carved it. The letters were jagged, gouged deep.
In Latin, Alessandro read aloud, his voice trembling: "Via memorat."
Ry frowned. "What's that mean?"
Alessandro's eyes darkened. "The road remembers."
The torches sputtered all at once, shadows lunging across the walls like hands. For a heartbeat, they all swore they saw Bob's face screaming from the stone, mouth wide in eternal terror.
Then it was gone.
They fled the catacombs, lungs burning, dragging Au with them. When they burst into the gray daylight, it felt like breaching the surface of black water.
But the air outside wasn't clean anymore. It was heavy, tainted.
Something had followed them out.
That night in the villa, sleep was impossible. Rica swore someone kept whispering her name in the dark. Amos rocked back and forth, muttering that Bob was alive, that he heard him.
Liz shook uncontrollably, her camera clutched to her chest. When she finally looked at the photos she had snapped underground, her scream shattered the silence.
Every frame showed them walking through the catacombs — but behind them, row after row of shadowed figures marched, chains clinking, eyes hollow.
And in the last photo, just behind Bob's torn shirt, a woman in white smiled.
Anaya.
But in the photo, her eyes were black pits, and her mouth stretched impossibly wide