The Day Death Died

The Day Death Died - Chapter 28

The chamber vanished in an instant, swallowed by an all-encompassing darkness that felt suffocating. My body felt weightless, as though I were floating in a void without substance or shape. The air was thick, making it hard to breathe, and every sound seemed to be swallowed by the blackness around me. For a moment, I wondered if this was what death truly felt like—empty, silent, alone.

"Edwin?" My voice was barely a whisper, my pulse racing as I reached out into the void. "Edwin, are you there?"

No answer. Panic began to rise in my chest as I called again, louder this time. "Edwin!"

Still nothing.

I was alone.

The cold seeped into my bones, wrapping itself around me like a shroud. My heart pounded in my ears, the only sound that filled the oppressive silence. And then, from somewhere deep within the blackness, I heard something—a whisper, faint at first but growing steadily louder.

"Maddison."

My name echoed in the void, the voice soft and familiar. It sounded like... my own.

Suddenly, the darkness shifted, and the ground solidified beneath my feet. The disorienting weightlessness faded, and I found myself standing in a dimly lit room—a place I recognized immediately.

It was my bedroom.

But it wasn't just any version of my room—it was the room from my childhood, the one in the house we lived in before everything changed. The faded purple wallpaper, the tiny bed with the unicorn blanket, the shelf of stuffed animals that hadn't been touched in years—it was all there, exactly as it had been when I was ten years old. I hadn't seen this room in years, and yet here I was, standing in it, feeling the memories crash into me like waves on a rocky shore.

I turned around slowly, taking in every detail, a sick feeling settling in my stomach. This place wasn't real. It couldn't be.

"This isn't happening," I muttered under my breath, my hands trembling. "This is just another illusion."

But even as I tried to convince myself, the air grew thick with the weight of memory. I knew what was coming next—what always came next in this nightmare.

The door creaked open.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as the door to my bedroom slowly swung inward. A shadowy figure stood on the threshold, tall and looming, its face obscured in darkness. I couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't do anything as the figure stepped into the room, its footsteps heavy and deliberate.

The figure moved closer, and as it did, the darkness around it seemed to peel away like a veil, revealing a man—my father.

He wasn't the father I remembered before everything went wrong. No, this version of him was different—darker, more menacing. His eyes were hollow, sunken, filled with an anger that sent a chill down my spine. His movements were jerky, unnatural, as if something was puppeteering him.

"You never should have left me, Maddison," the figure said, its voice distorted, like a recording played in reverse.

I backed up, hitting the edge of the bed. "You're not real."

"I'm real enough," the figure hissed, taking another step toward me. "And you abandoned me. You let them take me."

"No!" I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "That wasn't my fault! I was just a kid!"

The figure sneered, its face twisting into a grotesque mask of anger. "You could have saved me. But you didn't. And now... now you will pay."

I screamed as the figure lunged toward me, its hands reaching out like claws. I scrambled backward, my heart racing as I grabbed the closest thing to me—a lamp—and swung it at the figure. The lamp passed through him like smoke, and his form rippled and distorted for a moment before solidifying again.