Nyra's fingers trembled as she held the photograph , her breath fogging the corner of the image.
She stared at it - at herself, younger self , a shadow of the person she used to be - and at Allen, his smile a haunting reminder of the past she couldn't fully remember. He stood beside her , as if he refused to stay buried, his ghost lingering in the dim lights of his thoughts.
The flickering candle flames in the corner of the room danced wildly, casting fleeting shadows across the walls. Once. Twice. Then - snuffed out completely.
A cold breath touched and passed through her cheek.
She froze.
And then - Creeeeeak.
The door opened slowly, quietly, controlled.
A figure stepped into the room, not a ghost but a actual human - a girl. As she came close the noise of her long boots touching the wooden floor echoed in the room. She was wearing a long black coat which was till her knees. Her hair was black and was loosely tightened by a rubber band. Her eyes were too sharp for this place.
Nyra's heart skipped a beat and she immediately started to find a heavy object to defend herself. She found a heavy and old diary, she picked it.
"Relax." the girl said calmly.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"If i wanted to, you would probably be dead till now."
The girl walked past the table , glancing at the photograph without touching it. She stared at the photograph for a little too long but didn't said anything.
"You've been asleep for a very long time, kaira." she said in a soft and low voice.
Kaira.
The name hit Nyra like a slap. Her chest tightened.
"I am not Kaira." she said giving a sharp look, but the girl interrupted her.
"Nyra." the girl corrected coolly. " I know. That's what you go by now. But we both know that names change. What really matters is.......... what you remember."
Nyra's eyes widened and she asked firmly" Who are you?"
"Elira."
Nyra studied her carefully, this time looking at her for the first time clearly. There was something about Elira's face, like she was hiding some sort of pain behind her eyes, that felt like history. Shared history maybe. A kind of pain that was not her alone.
" I have been waiting for a long time." elira continued in a broken voice, "Waiting for someone to wake up."
"Wait.....you mean.....me?"
Elira's lip twitched between sorrow and bitter amusement. "No. I was hoping it wouldn't be you."
Nyra took a shaky breath standing from her place.
"What is this place?"
"Why do i remember pieces of it?"
"Why Allen?"
At the mention of his name, Elira's jaw clenched, with a muscle twitching in her cheek.
"He did this to you."
"But why?" Nyra asked.
" To keep you safe. To make you forget."
Nyra felt like a burn on her hand, her pulse moving stronger, as if it had a life of its own.
"You know him?" she whispered. Almost afraid to listen the answer.
"I trusted him." elira snapped, her voice breaking with barely controlled anger, "I followed him to The Archive, helping him steal the secrets. Watch him tear apart everything just to save you."Silence hung between them.
Nyra asked in a low but scared voice, " Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because you are dangerous when you remember." elira said, while stepping closer.
Nyra backed away, her pulse quickening. She wasn't sure if it was fear or something else.
"You weren't supposed to come back." elira continued, her voice darkening as a sharp glass.
"Not after the sigle. Not after the purge. But now that you have....."
Her gaze hardened, and she leaned in, speaking with a chilling tone.
"There are things in this building that will kill to stay hidden. And you.....you are their unfinished story."
Nyra's throat constricted as she said, " And Allen?"
Elira turned towards the door, her cold smile cutting through the dim light.
"Ask him why he never came back for me."
As she was leaving, elira glanced at her shoulder for one last time.
"This place it doesn't just trap memories," she said in her low voce, "It feeds on them."
She hesitated , her eyes locking with Nyra's warning her for the last time.
"Be careful about what you try to remember Nyra."
And then just like that she was gone.
Nyra was left alone, holding the faded photograph, her mind racing with a thousand questions.
But one name stood above all else.
Allen.
Waiting can feel like slow drowning. Did Nyra's waiting feel like hope... or surrender to you?
Drop a ⌛ if you've ever waited for someone to come back.
💬 Comment what you think she was really waiting for.