Devil's Whisper Chapter 67: Voices in the Dark

"Let me go!"

The girl’s scream tore through the silence, her voice shattering the stillness and then quickly dissipating into the vast, suffocating darkness. The air around her felt thick, oppressive, as if it were closing in with each breath. She strained her eyes, trying desperately to make sense of her surroundings, but the inky blackness swallowed everything whole, leaving her with nothing but the taste of fear in her mouth.

"Is anyone there?"

Her voice cracked as she called out, a tremble in every syllable, but there was no response. Only the sound of her own heartbeat hammering against her chest, a frantic rhythm that echoed in her ears. The isolation was suffocating. Her stomach twisted with unease, and she could feel the cold sweat clinging to her skin, mingling with the dirt and grime. Her hands and feet were bound by heavy, unyielding chains that dug into her flesh, the cold metal biting against her skin with every small movement. She tried to wriggle free, but the chains held fast, leaving her feeling utterly helpless.

How long had she been here? Minutes? Hours? It felt like an eternity, a maddening blur of time. Every second felt stretched, suffocating her from the inside out. Her mind raced, but nothing made sense. Her thoughts were tangled in confusion and fear, like trying to grasp at shadows.

A few hours earlier, there had been light. The faintest beam of daylight had filtered through cracks in the walls, casting eerie shadows across the room and offering her a brief moment of clarity. She had seen the cold, bare floor beneath her, the rough texture of stone walls, and the distant feeling of being trapped in a cage. But then, the sun had set, and darkness descended with a finality that made her blood run cold. The light had vanished completely, leaving her in a void that felt alive, as though the darkness itself was watching her.

"Please, let me go!"

Her voice broke, raw with desperation, but this time, it was cut short by a painful cough. Her throat was dry, painfully parched, as though it had been scorched from the inside. She hadn’t had a drink of water—or anything—since… when? She couldn’t remember. The dryness clawed at her, every inhale a struggle. As she coughed again, the sharp sound echoed through the room, and the floor creaked beneath her in response. The sound was faint, almost imperceptible, but it carried an eerie weight, like the room itself was alive, reacting to her every movement.

A chill ran down her spine. She froze. The air felt colder now, unnaturally cold, as if the darkness itself was seeping into her bones. Then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps reached her ears. Slow. Measured. Almost deliberate. Each step seemed to echo, reverberating off the walls, growing closer. Her pulse quickened. Each heartbeat was a loud, frantic thud against her ribs. She couldn’t see anything, couldn’t move, but she could feel the presence drawing nearer. She strained to breathe quietly, but the sound of her breath felt deafening in the oppressive silence.

"Hello, Sasha Paula."

The man’s voice sliced through the air. It was low, cold, and oddly calm, carrying an unsettling echo that made her stomach flip. She flinched instinctively, her body shrinking back toward the cold stone wall behind her, as though trying to melt into it. There was no escape, but her body still reacted with the instinctual need to hide. His voice seemed to loom around her, wrapping itself around her like a tightening noose.

The footsteps stopped. The silence was suffocating. Then, with the press of a button, the room exploded with harsh, yellow light. It wasn't the warm glow of sunlight, but an artificial, sickly illumination that cast long, distorted shadows across the room. The light flickered, casting brief flashes of clarity, only to be swallowed by the darkness again.

Sasha squinted against the harshness of it, but it didn’t fully illuminate the space. Instead, it only highlighted the oppressive emptiness that surrounded her—rusted metal pipes lining the walls, a door far across the room that seemed too distant to reach, and the man standing just a few feet away. His figure was more shadow than substance, his presence looming like an unseen predator.

Her pulse raced, but she forced herself to look at him. Her throat felt tight, constricted with fear, but she swallowed hard and found her voice.

"Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound firm despite the tremor in her words.

"Why did you abduct me?"

The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow step toward the far wall, his boots scraping against the cold concrete floor with a noise that sent a ripple of unease through her. He moved with deliberate slowness as if savoring the tension. Sasha could hear every shift of his weight, every scrape of his boots, each step a reminder that she was trapped.

"Wait... wait... wait," he said, his voice smooth, unbothered, almost amused. The way he spoke, it was as though her questions were little more than a passing curiosity to him. "You’ll get answers to all your questions, but not yet. Not at the right time."