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lost Viens:

“Where bloodlines fade, silence remembers”

By The Writer...A_AwanPublished about a month ago 3 min read

The medical institution room turned into tiled in pale ivory squares, each one sparkling beneath the fluorescent lighting. To all and sundry else, it'd have appeared sterile, everyday. however to Mara, the tiles seemed to pulse faintly, as although they carried veins below their surface—veins that had lengthy because vanished.

She had come here searching for answers. Her brother, Elias, had disappeared two months in the past, leaving in the back of only a magazine full of cryptic sketches: maps of veins that ended suddenly, arteries that dissolved into nothing. The very last access read definitely: “they're lost, however they may be listening.”

Now Mara stood within the silent room in which Elias had final been seen. The nurses claimed he had walked in for a recurring checkup and never walked out. No cameras, no witnesses, just absence. The tiled chamber was the most effective clue.

She pressed her hand in opposition to the wall. bloodless. Too cold. The tiles regarded to drink the warmth from her pores and skin. She traced the grout traces, noticing faint discolorations—like veins once painted there, now scrubbed away. The silence pressed in opposition to her ears, heavy, unnatural. She whispered Elias’s name, however the sound died right away, swallowed with the aid of the room.

Then she saw it: a crack walking diagonally across one tile, skinny as a hairline fracture. She leaned closer. inside the crack, some thing shimmered—like a thread of mild, pulsing faintly. A vein. misplaced, however now not long gone.

Her coronary heart raced. She pressed harder, and the tile shifted. A whisper slipped via, faint and damaged: “Mara…” It became Elias’s voice. She staggered returned, breath caught in her throat. The room became not empty. It was conserving him.

The tiles began to alternate. patterns emerged, veins sparkling faintly under the floor, weaving into maps that stretched throughout the walls. Mara watched as they pulsed in rhythm, like a heartbeat. She realized the reality: the room become alive. It had absorbed Elias, his bloodline, his very veins, and now it turned into attaining for her.

She tried the door, however it was gone. The tiles had sealed it, erasing any exit. Panic surged, however she compelled herself to respire. Elias’s magazine had warned her: “they are listening.” If the room listened, perhaps it can be reasoned with.

She positioned her palm towards the sparkling vein and whispered, “I’m here. I received’t depart you.” The tile trembled beneath her touch. A flood of pics stuffed her thoughts—Elias trapped in the partitions, veins unraveling, his frame dissolving into the tiled community. He become not useless. He became part of the room.

The silence deepened, pressing in opposition to her chest. She felt her personal veins ache, as although tugged by means of invisible threads. The room wanted her too. It wanted to add her bloodline to its series, to weave her into its countless listening.

Mara fought back. She dug her nails into the crack, prying it wider. The tile resisted, however then gave manner, splintering into shards. at the back of it became darkness, thick and pulsing. A hand reached out—Elias’s hand, pale and veined with mild. She grabbed it, pulling desperately. For a second, she thought she should loose him.

however the room tightened. The veins glowed brighter, wrapping round Elias’s arm, pulling him lower back. His eyes met hers, packed with sorrow. “It’s too past due,” he whispered. “however you could nevertheless depart.”

The tiles shifted, revealing a door that had not been there earlier than. Mara hesitated, torn between escape and saving him. Elias shook his head. “cross. before you’re lost too.”

Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled towards the door. The veins pulsed violently, trying to drag her again, however she pressured herself through. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving her inside the corridor, gasping for breath.

She seemed down at her fingers. Faint traces glowed under her skin, veins shimmering with the same mild she had visible within the room. She found out the reality: she had no longer escaped totally. The room had marked her. part of her bloodline became already lost.

And someplace in the back of the tiles, Elias whispered nevertheless.

MysteryPsychologicalthriller

About the Creator

The Writer...A_Awan

16‑year‑old Ayesha, high school student and storyteller. Passionate about suspense, emotions, and life lessons...

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