Snake

The door burst open—slamming backward into me with a violent force. I was thrown several feet back, hitting the ground hard. The air was ripped from my lungs.

The darkness within the doorway was no longer passive. It was alive—a black hole, sucking everything into it. I felt the air being drawn forward, the sound of wind rushing into the void. Before I could react, my stunned body began to slide toward it.

I tried to stand—tried to resist—but the pull grew stronger, overwhelming. My balance broke, and I was dragged inside.

As soon as my body crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind me.

The light—the only light I had—vanished.

Gone.

All that remained was darkness.

I hit the ground. Or something like it. A hard, cold slab, smooth beneath my palms. I tried to get my bearings, to see—but there was nothing to see. No walls. No ceiling. No direction. Just endless black.

I stood slowly, arms outstretched, and turned in circles, hoping to find the door. But when I reached for where it had been—it was gone. Nothing. No frame. No handle. No door.

Left with no other option, I walked forward.

At least, I think I did. With no point of reference, I wasn’t even sure I was moving in a straight line. Time bled into itself. Minutes felt like hours. My legs ached. My mouth dried. My stomach twisted in hunger.

Eventually, I collapsed.

I sat on the cold floor, gasping, dizzy from thirst and confusion. That’s when I saw it.

A glow. Dim, but unmistakable. A light in the dark—not white, but silver-blue, soft and eerie.

Hope—or desperation—ignited in me. I forced myself to stand and stumbled toward it. My legs were trembling, but my will pushed them forward.

As I neared, I saw it clearly: an oval-shaped mirror, tall and freestanding. Light radiated from within its glass, not around it. My curiosity overcame fear.

I stepped closer.

My reflection slowly emerged—a face.

Black hair. Pale skin. Deep, dark blue eyes. A sharp nose.

I stared at the image, but something felt wrong.

Terribly wrong.

My body began to shake. My throat clenched. I dropped to my knees, coughing violently. Bile rose and I vomited onto the stone.

I looked back at the mirror—furious, terrified.

“Who are you?” I shouted.

The reflection stared back.

But I didn’t recognize it.

“That face… that’s not me. I look more like… I…” My voice faltered.

“Wait. What did I look like?”

“Who am I?”

“What is my name?”

The realization hit like a hammer.

I didn’t know.

Not my name. Not my past. Not my face.

Nothing.

My mind cracked under the weight of it. My vision blurred.

And then—

darkness.

I collapsed, unconscious, crumpled before the mirror.