Burning Beneath

The ground pulsed beneath her feet like a slow, deliberate heartbeat.

Sam pressed a hand against the cold, slick wall of the maze, feeling it subtly shift beneath her touch. It wasn’t just stone—it was breathing, alive in a way that made her skin crawl.

The corridors twisted unnaturally, bending into sharp, impossible angles that seemed to rearrange themselves when she wasn’t looking. She didn’t know where to go, but she moved anyway, driven by something she couldn’t name.

Left.

Right.

Straight.

Her choices felt random, but a creeping sensation told her they weren’t her own.

Somewhere far off, metal scraped against stone—a slow, dragging sound. Not a threat, but a presence. Always ahead. Always waiting.

Sam paused.

“Why am I following this?”

Her mind, once razor-sharp, offered no answers. Yet her body moved, like a marionette tugged by invisible strings.

The corridors narrowed. Walls closed in.

In the corner of her eye, something flickered.

A symbol carved into the wall, glowing faintly—a jagged circle with a line through it. She reached out, fingertips hovering just above it.

It wasn’t familiar. Yet it was.

Her breath caught.

The walls shifted again, and the symbol vanished.

But now the air felt heavier, as if watching her.

Sam moved faster, the maze twisting tighter around her.

She wasn’t alone.

Not fully.

It wasn’t footsteps chasing her. It was something deeper.

A pull.

Like gravity, but not.

As if the maze itself was guiding her, nudging her closer to something it wanted her to see. Or become.

She turned another corner—and stopped.

Ahead stood a figure, still and distant.

It wasn’t moving.

It wasn’t breathing.

But it was waiting.

Not her reflection. Not a shadow.

Something else.

The scraping sound echoed again—louder this time, closer.

And Sam understood:

She wasn’t navigating the maze.

The maze was navigating her.

And it was almost ready to show her why.