While everyone in the room was overtaken by panic and horror, like pieces falling in a bizarre, uncontrollable domino effect, Emily remained frozen, staring at the scene with a stunned expression etched across her face. She had no idea what had actually happened.
From her point of view, it all boiled down to the sudden appearance of a new anomaly on the monitors, possibly the one responsible for the current chaos. And then... in the very next instant, it felt as though something had snapped.
Voices rose, chairs scraped loudly as they were shoved back, and screams began to echo throughout the room. Emily was almost certain that, amid the growing turmoil, she even heard someone calling out for their mother, their voice breaking with desperation.
“What the hell is going on?” Emily asked, her eyes darting from one end of the room to the other, taking in every reaction, tense faces, averted gazes, held breaths. The confusion inside her only deepened: “Why the hell is everyone reacting like this?” she added, her voice heavy with disbelief and a faint trace of concern.
Emily kept watching the scene before her, still stunned, her heart racing, until her eyes finally locked onto someone familiar.
Laura was collapsed on the floor, her body curled in on itself, hands gripping her head tightly. Her eyes were squeezed shut with such force that Emily found herself thinking that, if she kept it up...
Without hesitation, Emily rushed over and dropped to her knees beside her, placing her hands on Laura’s trembling shoulders in a desperate attempt to comfort her. Her voice came out filled with urgency and worry: “Laura! Wake up, Laura... what happened to you?!”
Strangely enough, Emily realized that her touch only seemed to intensify Laura’s fear. Laura curled in even tighter, as if trying to hide inside an invisible shell, her shoulders stiff and her entire body rigid. In a low, shaking voice, she began to murmur over and over, barely able to breathe: “I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”
Emily pulled back, her heart pounding, eyes wide as the question of what was really happening hung heavily in the air. A subtle chill ran down her spine when she sensed a presence approaching from behind. Moments later, a painfully familiar voice spoke up, tinged with curiosity: “She looks... scared”
The owner of the voice passed right by Emily, completely ignoring her reaction, and moved closer to Laura. Her feet hovered a few inches above the floor, never touching it at any point. It was the invisible anomaly, the one only Emily could see, wearing her sister’s face, voice, and mannerisms. Ellie’s.
“I wonder what exactly she’s seeing...” the anomaly mused, a smile on her face filled with mystery and a nearly childish amusement. Her gaze slowly shifted toward Emily, as if she already knew the answer: “What do you think, sis? You’ve got an idea, don’t you?” she teased.
Even though she was invisible to everyone else, her presence was unmistakable to Emily, saturated with that nosy, self-assured air Emily hated so much, far too irritating to ignore and yet far too familiar to forget.
Emily deliberately ignored the specter’s question and focused entirely on her own thoughts... or at least as much as she could while trying to drown out the annoying voice that kept echoing in her ears, persistent like an incessant buzz.
“Heeey, you are listening to me, aren’t you?” the anomaly complained, leaning forward: “You know I hate being ignored!” The pout on her face looked almost childish, an absurd contrast to the usually playful and irritating nature of her presence.
Still, setting the distractions aside, Emily forced her mind to focus. Almost instinctively, her eyes drifted back to the monitors, where the image of the anomaly was being displayed with unsettling clarity.
She had to admit it, there was something... different about that anomaly. It wasn’t easy to put into words, but it was impossible to ignore. A heavy sensation crept into her chest. Terror? Horror? Maybe both. Above all else, though, it was fear.
Raw, primal fear, as if it were radiating directly from the anomaly itself, seeping through the screens. The most alarming part was that the moment the anomaly appeared, everyone around her simply lost it. Panic, mental breakdowns, irrational reactions, none of it seemed coincidental.
Based on the few fragmented pieces of information Emily had managed to gather so far, a hypothesis began to take shape. The anomaly wasn’t just dangerous, it was the very embodiment of fear, terror, and dread, all condensed into a single being.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
An entity that, at its core, seemed to be the manifestation of the greatest fears, not a collective fear, but something even more cruel: the most intimate, deeply personal fears of every living being.
The fact that Emily herself didn’t perceive it as something bizarre or terrifying was a separate matter. What truly mattered, the thought hammering relentlessly in her mind, was something else entirely.
“What exactly are they all seeing that’s leaving them like this?...” Emily murmured, her brow slightly furrowed. There was concern in her expression, but also curiosity, almost involuntary, as her eyes swept over the pale faces around her.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
I didn’t have much information about my little sister when I decided to go after her. To be honest, all I really knew was that she was responsible for causing a monumental mess.
So, as the older brother, I felt it was my responsibility to deal with the chaos her awakening had unleashed. You could call it a sense of fraternal duty, and you wouldn’t be far off.
In any case, the point I’m trying to make is simple: I didn’t have a clear image of Tenebrya formed in my mind before actually meeting her. Still, considering how much my sisters and I resemble one another, my first thought was inevitable... another beauty was on her way.
Reality, however, was quite different from what I had imagined. Don’t get me wrong: it was impossible not to notice that Tenebrya would be considered beautiful wherever she went. The features were all there, delicate, well-defined, almost flawless. And yet, that was all they were: features.
They suggested beauty, hinted at harmony, but never fully brought it into being. She wasn’t ugly, not at all, still, something essential was missing. Beyond those promising contours, I simply couldn’t make out her face clearly, nor grasp her physical form as a whole.
More precisely, to me, Tenebrya was nothing more than a humanoid figure completely shrouded in darkness, as if the shadow itself had taken shape. Two solitary points of bright white light marked where her eyes should have been, silently observing me.
I thought about calling out to her, about saying something, anything. After all, this was our first reunion. I was genuinely happy to see her. My memories of her hadn’t fully returned yet, they were scattered fragments, loose sensations drifting through my mind.
Even so, the nostalgia that washed over me was intense and unmistakable. There was a strange warmth there, familiar, almost comforting. It was clear that, in the past, we had shared a strong bond, a relationship defined by closeness.
Carried by that nostalgic feeling, I parted my lips. Even though my form of communication was mental, I still carried this strange habit of moving them when I spoke. Personally, it felt wrong to express myself without at least mimicking the gesture. It was a useless habit, I knew that, but a hard one to break. Still, that was exactly what I was about to do.
Before I could form a single word for my little sister, however, a sequence of subtle metallic sounds spread through the area. The muted clinking came accompanied by uneven breathing, some short and alarmed, others deep and heavy, echoing just behind me and abruptly shattering the moment.
My little sister, Tenebrya, tilted her head slightly to the side, the movement small and almost innocent, as if she didn’t understand what she was seeing. Her gaze was fixed on something behind me. Puzzled by her reaction, I turned as well.
That was when I realized it: for reasons I couldn’t comprehend, every member of the anomaly response team had their weapons raised, aimed directly at Tenebrya. Any trace of professionalism had vanished from their faces, replaced by expressions of pure terror and panic.
Sweat streamed relentlessly down their foreheads, tracing shaky lines across their faces, while their hands could barely keep their weapons steady. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably, frail and unstable, like newborn animals facing a predator.
The only ones who still managed to maintain some semblance of composure were Victor, Rupert, and Arthur. Even so, it was clear they weren’t faring much better than the rest of the response team.
Rupert, in particular, stood out. His weapon wasn’t exactly aimed at Tenebrya, but the rigidity of his posture and the constant trembling in his hands betrayed his condition.
There was no relaxation in his movements at all, on the contrary, everything about him suggested an almost painful effort to restrain himself, as if at any second he might give in to the urge to grant Tenebrya a mercy shot. I shifted my gaze between my little sister and the response team, trying to understand what the hell was going on.
Yet everything felt unreal. A small army formed a semicircle behind me, bright and dangerous laser weapons raised with frightening precision, all of them trained on her. My little sister, oblivious to the tension weighing down the air, merely stared back at them with curiosity, unable to grasp what that gesture truly meant.
First, I decided to try to calm everyone down, raising my hands in a placating gesture while attempting to understand the broader context of this unsettling scene, one that, within moments, seemed on the verge of turning into an open confrontation: (Why did you all suddenly start acting as if the bogeyman himself were standing right in front of you, accompanied by his entire horde of terrifying monsters?)
Several minutes of heavy, almost suffocating silence followed. No one seemed willing to answer me. The wind whistled faintly in the distance when I heard Rupert swallow hard, the dry sound giving away the panic he was trying to suppress. Only then did his words, shaky and hesitant, finally come.
“Hah... if it were the bogeyman, that’d still be better... honestly...” He paused briefly, as if gathering the courage to continue took an enormous effort: “I’m so scared I can’t even move. Even with my brain screaming at me to turn around and face that thing in the ravine... still... this, right here, right in front of us, is worse”
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