Patrick had no idea how long he had been walking through the winding streets and alleys. The weight of the journal in his jacket pocket was a constant reminder that he was on the edge of something far bigger than he had imagined. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being led into a trap, yet he pressed on, his determination to find his bandmates stronger than the creeping doubts gnawing at his mind.
His path had brought him back to a familiar part of the city—the same area where the train station was. It was strange to think that, even though he had been searching for hours, he had somehow ended up so close to where Pete, Andy, and Joe were. Yet, they hadn’t found him. They were still out there, somewhere, likely searching the same streets, unaware of how close they were to each other.
Patrick ducked into a narrow side street, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of life. The night was quiet, the only sound the distant hum of city traffic. The strange, unsettling feeling hadn’t left him. The journal had warned him about the hidden paths, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing at the edge of one.
He glanced around, hoping for some sort of clue, when something caught his eye. At the far end of the alley, barely visible in the dim light, was a door—old, rusted, and half-concealed by overgrown vines. The symbol from the journal—the one he had seen earlier—was etched into the doorframe, just like it had been in the notes.
His heart skipped a beat.
This is it, he thought. This is where the answers are.
He took a hesitant step forward, the feeling of being watched lingering in the back of his mind. The door creaked open with an almost imperceptible sound, as if it had been waiting for him. With a deep breath, he pushed it further, stepping into the darkness beyond.
Inside was a labyrinth of stone corridors, dimly lit by flickering lights. The air was thick with dust, and the walls seemed to close in on him as he ventured deeper into the unknown. He didn’t know why he felt drawn to this place, but something about it felt like it was meant for him—like it had always been waiting for him to find it.
As he moved through the twisting corridors, the distant sound of footsteps reached his ears, but they didn’t belong to him. They were faint at first, but as he pressed on, they grew louder—closer. His pulse quickened as he realized he wasn’t alone.
He stopped in his tracks, listening. The footsteps came closer, echoing off the walls. His first instinct was to hide, to slip into one of the narrow doorways that lined the corridor, but he hesitated. What if it was Pete, Andy, or Joe? What if they had found him?
He peered around the corner, his breath held, and saw a shadowy figure approaching. It wasn’t one of his bandmates.
The person moved with deliberate steps, their face obscured by the hood of a long coat. Patrick’s gut twisted with unease. He didn’t know who this person was, but they were moving too quickly, too deliberately. And they were headed straight for him.
Patrick’s heart raced, and for a brief moment, he considered turning and running. But something made him stay. Maybe it was the journal’s cryptic warning, maybe it was the nagging feeling that he was on the verge of something huge—but he didn’t move. He couldn’t.
The figure stopped just a few feet away from him. Patrick could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.
“Looking for something, Patrick?” The voice was cold, familiar, but twisted in a way that made Patrick’s skin crawl.
He stepped back, his mind racing. How did this person know his name? And why did it feel like they were toying with him?
The figure lowered their hood, revealing a face Patrick hadn’t seen in years—a face he thought he’d left behind.
It was Lucian.
Patrick’s throat went dry. “You? What… what are you doing here?”
Lucian’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you, Patrick. For a long time.”
Before Patrick could react, Lucian’s gaze flicked behind him, and Patrick spun around, heart hammering. The figure wasn’t alone.
Elara appeared from the shadows, her presence almost ethereal. Her eyes locked onto his, glowing with an unsettling certainty. “We knew you would come,” she said softly. “But you’re too late.”
Patrick’s pulse quickened as he glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Too late for what?” he demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and frustration.
Lucian took a step forward, his expression unreadable. “The paths have already begun to shift, Patrick. You’re standing at the crossroads, but you don’t know which direction to choose. The journal will guide you—but it will also mislead you.”
Suddenly, Patrick felt a weight press down on him, like the very walls were closing in. He didn’t know what game they were playing, but he was no longer sure of anything. Had he been wrong to trust the journal? Had they been watching him the entire time?
Before he could ask any more questions, the sound of familiar voices echoed down the corridor—footsteps. Pete, Andy, and Joe.
Patrick’s eyes widened. They were close. They had found him.
The moment of truth was upon them. Would they find each other in time? Or had the path Patrick was on already sealed their fate?
As the shadows closed in, Patrick took a step forward, ready to face whatever was waiting for him and his bandmates.
YOU ARE READING
Fallout Boy: Heartbreaking Falls Out
HorrorFallout boy were in the middle of recording their new studio album, From Under The Cork Tree, when they were about to open up their studio and clean it, they find a strange bag. None of them knew who owns it, or what was in it, or how it got in the...
