Chapter 4 — The Descent
Brick stairwell • Mirrors that hum • A shadow that negotiates
The stairwell sweats with condensation, walls pulsing with the heartbeat of the city above. Every step down hums beneath his shoes, the air thick and metallic, like blood left too long in the open. The sound of the club fades into something slower, deeper, the bass stretched into a pulse that belongs to the earth itself.
Below, a chamber of mirrors waits. Antique frames lean against concrete walls beside fractured bathroom panels and jagged wired shards. Each surface seems to breathe, fogging faintly as if alive. His reflection stutters, lagging behind his movements, grinning when he does not, exhaling smoke that smells faintly sweet and coppery.
Then the glass ripples. From its depths, a tall shadow unfolds, all edges and whispers, its outline stitched from reflections that refuse to stay still.
“Show us your true face, Dio,” it says, the voice layered like many speaking through one throat. “What will you give to be remembered?”
Lilith steps closer, her eyes catching the dim blue light and holding it too long, too hungry. Her fingers close around his wrist, cool as marble, trembling not with fear but with restraint.
“Decide quickly,” she murmurs, her breath sharp as winter. “It doesn’t wait long… and neither do I.”
He feels the pulse in his wrist quicken under her touch, as if answering hers. Somewhere in the glass, his reflection bares its teeth, and they are not his own.