UNNAMED CHAPTER 6 — “The Silent Hall”

“In the silence, I could hear my own heartbeat echoing, as if it were the only sound in a world that had forgotten how to breathe. This place, this white room, seemed to swallow time whole, leaving nothing but stillness and the quiet weight of a thousand unspoken words.”

The next moment, I regained consciousness.

The crimson was gone. No traces of red, no remnants of what I had seen before. Instead, I was in a white room — sterile, almost lifeless.

There was little to no furniture, just a single bed with a plain white sheet. A broken mirror lay on the floor, its shattered pieces scattered like remnants of something lost. I stepped closer, peering down at the fragments.

My reflection stared back — dead eyes rimmed with red. My cheeks bruised, my skin burned, as if scorched.

I couldn’t look away. Time felt suspended, the silence suffocating.

No sound. No movement. Just coldness, stretching into every corner of the room. The metallic bed frame stood rigid and unwelcoming. The air was sterile, biting against my skin.

My body ached from walking for so long. My eyes were heavy with exhaustion. I needed rest… just a little.

I turned toward the bed. And froze.

A figure had appeared — unknown, yet strangely familiar. A girl.

She looked about twelve, dressed in a frilled blue spring dress. Thin, almost fragile, yet her stillness was deeply unsettling. Dark circles clung to her eyes — unnatural, like shadows that didn’t belong on a child’s face.

She wore a smile, but it was wrong — too fixed, too practiced. A mask perfected long ago.

I stepped closer, my heart tightening. “Who are you?” I whispered.

She didn’t react. I called out again, louder this time. Still nothing. No flicker of recognition. No sign she had heard me.

I stood right in front of her, but it was as if I didn’t exist.

I called her again. My voice felt swallowed by the silence.

Then, she began walking toward the bed and sat down, still silent, staring at her hands. A grin slowly crept across her face — one of mischief, innocent yet wrong. Something magnetic about her. I found myself smiling too.

After a while, she stood up and walked slowly. I matched her pace. We stepped into a larger room — a hall. She sat again. I stood beside her, eyes tracing her every move.

She seemed impatient. She stood, then sat again. Fidgeted with her fingers. I moved closer and sat beside her.

Up close, she looked even younger. Twelve? Fifteen? I couldn’t tell. Her body seemed weightless — like a bird’s feather, delicate and brittle.

I held her hand. She turned her head toward me.

“Finally, you can see me. Hello,” I said quickly.

She kept staring.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

After a moment, I realized — she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking through me. Her gaze fixed on something behind me.

A clock.

I turned.

She was staring at a clock on the wall.

I looked back at her. She closed her eyes and leaned back.

“Ah… night, girly,” I murmured, waving gently.

I glanced around the room. Another clock — above the fireplace. Two clocks, in the same room. It felt… strange.

Behind me, something caught my eye. At first, it looked like a digital clock. But it wasn’t.

It was a monitoring system.

On the screen were unfamiliar terms:

Heart rate variability. Emotional metrics. Stress index. Pulse rhythm distortion. Dream entropy map.

And something scribbled — UMDNEV14…

None of it made sense.

What was it measuring? And who?

The numbers began to rise.

Red. Then dark red. Then black.

A chill shot through me.

“What… is all this?” I whispered.

My hands clenched. Panic bloomed in my chest.

“Where am I? What is happening here? Who is she? Should I even be here?”

I needed to leave. But where to? How did I even get here in the first place?

My heart began pounding, faster. Louder. Panic spread like wildfire.

Then — I heard something.

Footsteps.

Rhythmic, in sync. More than one person. They were coming toward me.

I gasped, holding my breath, pressing my palm against my chest to calm myself.

The footsteps reached the hall. A man and a woman appeared, formally dressed, white coats in hand.

They walked toward the girl lying on the couch.

“Woke up 140,” the man said gently.

She opened her eyes and smiled faintly.

“They must be her parents… Or are they doctors? Scientists?” I whispered to myself.

She took their hands and pulled them along.

“Where are you taking us?” the woman asked, amused.

“Just follow me. You’ll find yourself, hehe,” the girl giggled.

“Well, someone’s excited,” the woman said.

“Do you think it’s the effect of the drug?” the man asked.

“Come on, hurry,” the girl tugged at them.

“Don’t rush, we’re not going anywhere,” the woman chuckled, holding her other hand.

She was taking them somewhere.

Should I follow?

Things didn’t feel right.

“1..4..0” — that’s what they called her. That doesn’t even sound like a name. Drugs? Why?

That monitoring system — was it for the girl? Or is someone else here too? A patient?

Should I go with them? No. It would be like walking into a lion’s den.

I need to leave this place. But how?

Where’s the exit?

It struck me — since entering, I hadn’t seen a single window.

I couldn’t even see the outside world.

I began searching for a way out.

One room after another. Surgical tools. Strange fluids. Chemicals.

In another room, metal pieces bathed in crimson.

My breath grew unsteady. My legs weak.

My head spun. It became harder to breathe.

Then — I saw a door. Painted black. Behind it, a narrow passage.

“Maybe this is the exit,” I thought. “There should be one. After all, those two came from outside. Yes… maybe this is the exit.”

I stepped through.

The air shifted.

A strange smell — chemical, sterile, wrong.

The hallway narrowed, sloping downward like an alley.

I stepped on something.

Slipped.

I fell hard.

Afraid to look at what I’d stepped on, I quickly got up, desperate not to lose sight of them.

I entered a large room — some kind of storage area… or a lab?

They were there.

They were all looking at something.

I stepped forward, pushing past them —

And then —

My heart thundered. My breath shattered.

A body lay twisted on the floor, like a discarded doll.

Skin pale and tight over bones.

Gashes jagged and cruel — not accidental, not surgical. Deliberate.

A steel spike had been shoved through the torso, then twisted.

Ripped open. Flesh hanging loose.

The blood pooled — thick, blackened. Staining the floor, the clothes.

The smell hit me. Iron. Rot.

The chest wound was gaping, oozing slowly.

An open mouth. A final scream.

One arm bent unnaturally — bone jutting out through torn skin.

A gash marked the neck, dried blood caked around it.

The eyes were wide open. Lifeless.

But aware.

Around the body — chunks of flesh, pieces scattered, clawed, torn.

Dark handprints streaked across the walls, stained with blood.

Marks of something — someone — fighting, screaming, dying.

The air was thick, choking.

The silence pressed in, deafening.

Above the body, the iron rod still hung — gleaming, cruel.

I looked around.

Body parts. Everywhere.

Jars filled with intestines.

A shelf lined with ripped lungs, muscle tissue, torsos… all jumbled. Indistinct. Human. Animal. Bird.

I dropped to the ground, as if the weight of it all had dragged me down.

My knees folded. The cold tiles bit into my skin.

This can’t be real.

It has to be a nightmare.

“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up, you cursed thing,” I muttered.

My heart throbbed violently. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

I had to leave. I had to wake up.

This isn’t real. It can’t be.

A lab like this — inside a house?

No. It doesn’t make sense.

I panicked.

I began hitting myself — hoping the pain would jolt me awake.

I slammed my head against the floor, crying.

“Wake up, wake up,” I sobbed.

“Please… just let me wake up.”

— to be continued…

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Genre : Psychological Horror, Surrealism, Dark Fantasy, Psychological Fiction, horror