Aninsa continued to walk aimlessly through the city, feeling with every step how this place grew stranger and more unsettling. The streets shifted before her eyes, and the buildings seemed to breathe like living beings, altering their shapes to match her state of mind.

  The streets stretched out endlessly, each corner promising something new, yet always ending in the same chaos. The traffic lights, stuck on red or on colors that shouldn't have existed—a muddy violet, a blue that seemed to fade into the air—shattered any lingering hope. Green never appeared. If a traffic light had ever shown green, perhaps it would have been a way out. But Aninsa had never seen such a thing.

  She was tired and felt a permanent, painful void within her. It wasn't hunger—ever since she had arrived in the Dark City, she hadn't felt hunger once—but rather a diffuse sensation, as if she felt a nameless lack she couldn't put into words. She felt she was missing something important, but she could never remember what it was.

  Aninsa wandered through the city at random, with no particular purpose other than the faint hope that she might encounter something useful. Or at least something that would show her why she was in this terrifying and lawless place—the Dark City. But the streets she walked continued to wind and change around her, never seeming to lead anywhere specific. Sometimes, Aninsa felt as if she were walking in circles, or as if the streets were twisting around her while she walked in place.

  Eventually, she came upon a small and peculiar shop, its window filled with objects that defied all logic.

  Aninsa looked fearfully at an iron that had a gargoyle instead of a handle, its temperature dial transformed into a faucet. Beside it, a vacuum cleaner had a bronze snake instead of a hose, the reptile’s head carved into a menacing snarl, as if it intended to bite her if she drew too near. The mirrors at the back of the window were warped, reflecting the world at impossible angles—some showed Aninsa's image upside down, others made her appear twice her actual height, and one of them seemed to reflect only indistinct shadows, even though she stood in full light.

  On the shelves, crooked glasses that looked as if they had melted, their mouths sealed shut, stood alongside plates with large holes in them, like objects pulled from an absurd dream. Every item in the window seemed to say something about the place she was in—a place where logic and order were completely undermined, where nothing followed the rules of the real world anymore.

  “Who would ever want to buy such things?” Aninsa whispered, staring at the strange objects.

  But no one answered. The shop appeared abandoned, its door secured with a rusty padlock that seemed to be slowly melting into the city’s darkness. Aninsa turned and continued walking, feeling fear begin to take the place of curiosity.

  Passing a massive, dark building, Aninsa saw a poster plastered onto a brick wall. She stopped immediately to examine it, hoping she might find something useful.

  The poster depicted the head of a robot looking off to one side, and beneath it, the text read: “Vote only for trustworthy people!” Aninsa stared at the poster disappointedly for a few seconds, trying to grasp the meaning of the message, then moved on. After a few moments, she cast one last glance back and realized the poster had vanished. However, she had ceased to be surprised by the permanent changes occurring around her.

  After turning a few corners, she arrived in front of another strange place—something that appeared to be a cinema. The poster on the door was old and scratched, but still visible. On it, the movie title was written in large, bold letters: “ICEBERG,” and beneath it was an impressive drawing: a monstrous glacier sinking a passenger ship into the deep, black waters of the ocean. Along the bottom edge were small images of some of the film’s key scenes. But most disturbing was the poster’s subtitle: “1,600 people saved from suffering.”

  Aninsa stopped abruptly, puzzled. “Saved from suffering...” she repeated in a whisper, her voice trembling. “What does that mean?” Something told her that the name of the film was wrong, but she didn't dare follow that thought to its conclusion.

  The cinema door was slightly ajar, and from within came a faint, intermittent light. The ticket booth was closed, but a piece of paper had been stuck to it: “A film more real than your dreams.” Aninsa hesitated, looking around with a restless expression. But her curiosity was stronger than her fear. “I have nothing to lose by finding out,” she told herself. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

  It took Aninsa a few moments to focus after stepping inside the cinema. The flickering lights within both drew her in and frightened her, acting like invitations to a dance she could not refuse. The door creaked softly, and the air was heavy, thick with the smell of dust and something sweet, like the scent of flowers that had withered long ago.

  The cinema hall was empty. A few rows of old, scratched seats stretched out before a massive screen, covered in a grey cloth that seemed to move slowly. On the screen, the faint light projected by an ancient film projector created trembling shadows, like specters dancing in silence.

  “Is anyone there?” Aninsa called out, her voice echoing through the empty hall. But no one answered. The only sound to be heard was the faint clicking of the projection machine, hidden in a small booth at the back of the hall.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  She slowly approached the first row of seats, looking around carefully. On the floor, she saw scattered cinema tickets, all bearing the same inscription: "Last Chance." They were printed in red ink, like stains of dried blood.

  “What kind of place is this?” she asked herself, picking up one of the tickets and turning it over in her hands. On the back of the ticket, written in small letters, was: "Once you have entered, no returns are accepted." But before she could think any further, the lights in the hall suddenly went out, leaving her in darkness.

  Filled with fear, yet also a strange curiosity, Aninsa sat down in the front row, staring fixedly at the screen before her.

  As her eyes adjusted to the dark, the screen began to glow slowly. At first, the film was in black and white, showing vague images of a giant ship sailing through dark waters. The monstrous glacier from the poster emerged from the mist, its cold eyes staring directly at her, as if it wanted to tell her something.

  Then, colors began to appear gradually, bringing life to the static images. The people on the deck were now clearly visible, their faces full of excitement as they looked toward a glacier rising threateningly in the distance.

  Aninsa watched, fascinated, as the scenes unfolded before her. There were images of the passengers on the ship—women in elegant dresses, men in black suits, and children playing on the deck. But as the glacier drew closer, their expressions changed. The initial commotion gave way to a strange serenity, as if they had accepted their fate.

  At one point, the camera focused on a small girl with long blonde hair, standing alone at the ship’s railing, staring fixedly at the glacier. She didn't look more than eight years old. Her face was familiar, but despite all her efforts, Aninsa could not remember where she had seen her before. The girl slowly turned her head toward the camera, her blue eyes shimmering in the dim light. A faint smile, full of sadness, appeared on her lips.

  The colors had become increasingly intense, and the projection screen began to look more like a window into the world of the film. Aninsa felt a wave of cold air coming toward her, as if flowing out of the screen. She flinched, feeling the cold hit her skin, but she did not move from her seat.

  Suddenly, Aninsa felt reality beginning to shift around her. Before she realized it, the ground beneath her feet was no longer dusty carpet, but a cold, hard metal deck. The air of the cinema had vanished, replaced by a salty, freezing wind that blew with power, tearing cold tears from her eyes. She felt every detail—the vibrations of the ship beneath the soles of her shoes, the sound of the waves crashing against the hull, and even the sensation of heaviness brought by the dense, cold air.

  She was now on the deck of the ship.

  The freezing air whipped her face, and the hiss of the steam engines roared in her ears. The passengers around her seemed fascinated by the approaching iceberg. They laughed and cheered, as if this spectacle of nature were merely a scene in a lavish ball. The mountain of ice exerted a strange attraction over them, like a lamp drawing in moths.

  The Captain, a tall man with white hair and an impeccable uniform, gave the order to increase speed. "Full speed ahead!" he shouted with a determined voice. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for us!"

  Aninsa looked around, hoping to find a sign of hesitation or panic. But no one seemed to see the danger. The people on deck laughed and talked with enthusiasm, as if the iceberg were their final destination, not a warning of the end. Some women raised their hands toward the icy colossus, shouting words of welcome. A few couples began to dance on the edge of the deck to the music of a waltz that was both triumphant and sad at the same time. From where she stood, Aninsa could not see the orchestra, but she could hear them perfectly, playing from a deck above her.

  Aninsa felt her heart beating faster with emotion. She felt chilled, but it wasn’t just the cold of the air—it was something deeper, something coming from within her. Her gaze fixed upon the iceberg, which now seemed to move on its own, breathing exactly like a living creature. It was no longer just a mass of ice—it was like an immense being, with sharp ridges that looked like fangs and deep cracks that resembled eyes frozen in the ice. They seemed to stare at her intensely, as if trying to pull her toward it.

  Scanning the crowd on the deck, Aninsa saw the eight-year-old girl again, with her blonde hair and sad eyes. She wore a coat that was much too large for her shoulders and clutched a small teddy bear tightly in her arms.

  Aninsa tried to shout, but her voice was lost in the clamor of the passengers who continued to dance and acclaim the glacier. With determined steps, Aninsa pushed through the crowd until she reached her.

  "I don't want to be with the others," the girl said in a weak voice when their eyes met. "I didn't choose to go with them. Please, help me."

  Aninsa approached her, drawn by the fragility and sadness in the girl's eyes. "Who are you?" she asked, unable to control the emotion that overwhelmed her.

  "Don't you remember me anymore, Aninsa?" she asked. "I haven't even left yet, and you've already forgotten who I am."

  Aninsa wanted to tell her that she felt she knew her from somewhere, but emotion choked her words.

  "But the people here... what do they want?" she finally asked.

  "They paid for their tickets and they want to go all the way to the end. But I feel like I can still give it up. I want to be how I was before. Do you think I could return the ticket?"

  Before Aninsa could answer, the ship collided violently with the iceberg. A loud sound of tearing metal and shattering ice filled the air. Large chunks of ice began to fall onto the deck among the people. The cold became unbearable, and water began to pour into the ship. The people laughed and applauded, as if they were happy that their lives were about to end. The Captain shouted: "Do not panic! We will reach our destination soon! We will be free of our worries!"

  As the deck began to tilt, the little girl looked up at Aninsa with a sad smile on her face. "I'm sorry," she said. "You couldn't save me." Then, she handed her the small teddy bear. "Don't forget me, Aninsa."

  Aninsa tried to pull her away, to save her from death, but the girl’s hand slipped from hers as if it were made of smoke.

  Suddenly, Aninsa woke up again in the cinema hall, her breath shallow and her heart pounding wildly. On the screen, the final images of the film continued to roll. The ship was sinking completely; people were freezing in strange positions with serene expressions, as if they had found peace in death.

  Aninsa stared fixedly at the screen, tears streaming down her cheeks. In her hands, she was still holding the small teddy bear.