He fell into the cellar, and the door slammed shut above him. From outside, Seraphin’s voice came—calm as ever:
– “Are you ready for the test?”
He screamed:
– “Open the door, you bastard! I’ll get out and tear you apart!”
No reply—only the same question, repeated:
– “Are you ready for the test?”
The darkness in the cellar was thick, as if it had swallowed the light—and everything else. There was no sign of any source of illumination. The only sounds were his quickening breaths and his heartbeat, which now seemed like drums pounding in his ears.
He groped the walls in fear—they were damp, as cold as ice. He took a step… then another. The floor was hard, yet uneven, as if it had never been paved.
Whispers…
Faint whispers echoed in his ears.
But he couldn’t see anyone.
He took out his lighter and flicked it on. A tiny flame, but it gave a glimmer of hope in the midst of the pitch black. He moved forward slowly until he found a dry twig, resembling a worn-out staff, and lit one end to create a temporary torch.
In the light of the flame, he saw the walls etched with strange symbols—like ancient carvings or religious rites he didn’t recognize. Some were drawn in deep crimson, as if painted in blood.
He took a few more steps and noticed the corridor in front of him was beginning to widen.
Ahead of him… a massive wooden door, dark and old.
He shoved it open with force—the door creaked slowly, then swung wide.
Oh my God…
An enormous underground hall. The walls were covered with huge mirrors, all cracked. In the center stood a stone table, and atop it… an hourglass.
He approached it cautiously.
The moment his hand touched the table, the hourglass flipped on its own, and the sand began to fall.
Suddenly… reflections of him appeared in every mirror.
But what was truly strange… was that each reflection was doing something different.
One was crying. One was laughing hysterically. Another was jumping around like a madman. And one… was glaring at him with a hateful look.
He stepped back.
Then a voice came from above him… from everywhere… Seraphin’s voice:
– “The test has begun…”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He screamed in sheer terror:
– “What’s happening here?! What do you want from me?!”
The same voice replied, but this time it sounded more cryptic:
– “This isn’t madness… this is you. Those mirrors… they’re just reflections of what’s inside you.”
“Enough!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “This is all nonsense!”
Suddenly, one of the mirrors shattered into shards… and from it emerged a distorted creature, a twisted version of him, its face dark, its eyes filled with savagery.
The creature spoke in a raspy voice:
– “I am you… the part you’ve hidden your whole life.”
He froze in place, as if his heart had stopped beating. The body of the distorted version of himself moved closer, and the other mirrors began to crack gradually around them, as if they were about to pounce.
The same voice returned, laced with mockery:
– “The test… is to meet your true self.”
He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, and whispered to himself:
– “I know myself well… this is just a test. I have to pass it.”
He opened his eyes to find the distorted version of himself standing right in front of him. Without warning, he lunged toward it. He grabbed its neck with all his strength, the distorted version struggling in his grip, screaming in rage.
After a moment, the creature’s breath faltered and disappeared entirely, vanishing before him like steam.
Then the other mirrors began to move strangely, as if preparing to attack. His eyes scanned the room quickly, desperately searching for an escape.
Suddenly, he spotted a crack in the wall. He ran toward it, sprinting with all his might, as if time itself were chasing him.
As he entered, he slammed the door shut behind him, then took a deep breath. But the corridor was narrowing around him quickly. He could barely breathe as he continued through it.
When he finally reached the end, struggling, he sealed the passage behind him.
Before him, there was a massive chair—like a throne. He hesitated for a moment, looking around, but the place was completely empty.
He moved cautiously, but suddenly, he fell into the water, and began swimming with intense anxiety. His heart raced, his eyes scanning the darkness for anything to calm his nerves. In an instant, the candle he had been holding flickered out, plunging him into thick darkness.
He continued swimming until he reached what he thought was the chair, pulling himself out of the water, gasping for breath as if he had just survived a brutal battle.
He tried to calm himself for a moment, then decided to taste the water to see if it was salty or fresh. He scooped some with his hands and drank. He tasted it cautiously, then looked around once again.
He pulled the lighter from his pocket and lit it to get some light.
At that moment, he noticed something strange beside him—a damp piece of wood with cotton on it, as if it were a torch. With trembling hands, he lit it and felt a brief moment of relief as the light began to seep into the space.
But soon, his feeling of relief turned into deep terror. He looked at the water in front of him and noticed dozens of floating corpses, the water he had drunk now tainted with strange blood.
His body trembled, and he nearly choked, vomiting into the water immediately. Anger began to show on his face, and his mind grew more and more confused.
He searched for the chair he thought was near him, but it had completely disappeared.
“Was I imagining it?” he murmured to himself. “Or is someone manipulating me?”
As he tried to regain his focus, he spotted a floating corpse near a sword embedded in the water. The sword seemed to be waiting for someone to claim it.
He paused for a moment, then whispered to himself:
“I’ll need this sword to defend myself.”
He plunged into the water again, his trembling hands gripping the sword, but at that moment, he felt something powerful pulling him down. It was invisible, yet its force exceeded all resistance.
He struggled to survive, but he was sinking further. In the final moment, just before losing consciousness completely, he closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to consume him.
He felt cold air brushing against his limbs, and suddenly, he opened his eyes, water rushing from his chest after a loud gasp. He began coughing violently, his eyes filled with astonishment and fear.
After a few moments, he regained his balance and slowly sat up. He looked around and found himself in front of the same café… the cursed café where this whole tale had begun. But now, it was abandoned, as if time had stopped there decades ago.
“What is this?!” he shouted in despair, his steps quickening toward the café, but he suddenly stopped and remembered something. The church! Yes, that abandoned church he had seen earlier.
