GhostBusters: Rift In Dimensions

Chapter Ten

Y/N's P.O.V

No one spoke.

Not me.

Not Peter.

Not him.

The silence stretched so long it started to feel deliberate—like we were part of something staged, something waiting for its cue.

I could feel Milo's presence.

Not just in front of us—

Around us.

Watching.

Measuring.

Waiting.

I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe, and took in our surroundings.

Stone walls.

Rough. Ancient.

Torches burned along the sides, their flames bending and flickering like they were reacting to something unseen. Shadows crawled across the walls in ways that didn't quite match the movement of the fire.

Tunnels branched off in every direction.

Too many.

A maze.

No—something worse.

A place designed so you never found your way out.

"...Okay," I whispered under my breath. "I officially hate this."

Before I could think another thought—

My arm jerked.

Peter.

He grabbed me and ran.

No warning.

No comment.

No joke.

Just instinct.

"Hey—!" I stumbled, nearly losing my footing before forcing myself to keep up. "Do you know where we're going?!"

"Nope!" he shot back. "But I know where we're not staying!"

Fair.

Very fair.

We sprinted through the tunnels, boots echoing against stone, breaths coming fast and sharp.

Every turn looked the same.

Every shadow felt alive.

Every second—

I expected to hear footsteps behind us.

Or worse—

Nothing at all.

"Left!" Peter called suddenly, pulling me around a corner.

We barely slowed.

"Peter—" I gasped, "—this feels like a terrible plan!"

"Every plan I've ever had has been terrible," he replied. "This is consistent!"

Despite everything, I almost laughed.

Almost.

The tunnel opened into a wider chamber.

We slowed just enough to catch our breath.

Peter ripped a torch from the wall, holding it out in front of us.

The light pushed the darkness back—but not far enough.

Never far enough.

"Okay," I said, trying to steady my breathing, "we need something better than 'run and hope.'"