🕯 The Whisper Room

You always dream of that room.

There are no windows, no doors, only four mottled gray walls and a lone candle in the middle of the floor.

The candle is burning, and the weak light can hardly dispel the darkness around.

In your dreams, you are always attracted to the candle, as if there is some answer hidden there.

But every time you reach out your hand, the darkness will crawl, the walls seem to come alive, and whispers come from all directions.

You can't hear the content clearly, you can only feel the coldness penetrating your bones.

When you wake up, you are always covered in cold sweat.

The doctor said it was just the product of stress.

But you know in your heart that it is not a dream.

It is a memory. It's just that you forgot - or rather, you dare not remember.

One sleepless night, you finally made a decision.

Following the memory in your dream, you found the house.

It is located in the most desolate corner of the city, almost completely swallowed by vines and dust.

The dilapidated door is half open, as if waiting for you.

You push the door open and enter.

The smell of decay hits you in the face, and there is thick dust under your feet. With every step, the dust struggles in the air like the gasps of a drowning person.

Following the vague route in the dream, you walk through the narrow corridor and push open an almost rotten wooden door.

The room is surprisingly small, and the walls are covered with black mold, like a distorted human face.

In the center, just like in the dream, there stands a faintly burning candle.

As you approach, the whispers come back.

This time, they are clear.

——"Remember us."

——"Don't leave."

——"You promised."

Your head begins to hurt violently, as if something is struggling to break out from the depths of your mind.

Memories are like tearing lightning, splitting your mind in an instant.

That year, you were still very young.

Locked in this room.

Crying, asking for help, calling for your parents with a torn throat.

But no one came.

Only darkness, only candles, only those... voices in the wall, accompany you.

They said they could save you.

As long as you promised to stay and accompany them.

At that time, you were too afraid of loneliness.

You promised.

Later you were found and taken away from here.

But you never really left.

Your shadow, your voice, a part of you - have long been left in this room.

Now, you are back.

The candlelight seems to be dancing happily, welcoming you who have been lost and found.

The wall trembles slightly, and countless blurred figures appear on it, opening their mouths and laughing silently.

You instinctively step back, but the door has already closed silently.

The lock snaps shut, like a long-planned gentle hug.

You understand.

It was never you who left.

Outside, the sky is getting brighter.

The first ray of morning light shone into the dilapidated corridor, and dust floated in the light, like countless silent souls.

But no one came out from behind that door.