The cold was unlike anything Alex had ever felt. It wasn’t just physical—this was a chill that seeped into his bones, into his very soul. The shadows closed around him and Clara, blotting out all light, all sound except the whispering voices that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The ancient words they spoke were indecipherable, but the tone was clear—anger, hunger, and something else—expectation.
Alex clutched the key tighter in his hand, its cold metal biting into his palm. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat thundering in his ears. Clara’s grip on his arm was the only thing that kept him grounded, her voice faint in the overwhelming darkness.
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