Discussing The Ordeal:


    It was a gloomy, rain-soaked day. Heavy droplets fell endlessly from the sky, the tears of the heavens matching the solitude of the short girl sitting on a bench in the park. She was in her late teens, her only company the cold, humid air that seemed to seep into her bones.


    "What the hell is taking this guy so long?" she muttered under her breath, her irritation growing as her eyes scanned the empty surroundings. A deep scowl began to form on her face.


    Eventually, her frustration boiled over. Letting out a disgruntled sigh, she yanked her phone from her pocket, quickly scrolling through her contacts until she found the name "Martin." She jabbed at the screen aggressively to call him.


    The line rang twice before a cheerful voice answered on the other end. "Hello, Guardian''s HQ, how may I help y—"


    "Martin! Where the heck are you?!" she interrupted, her voice sharp with rage.


    There was a pause. "Whoa, easy there, Mei. What are you even talking about?"


    "What am I talking about?! You told me to meet you at 8:00 A.M. in Rainbow Park! It''s been an hour, and you''re seriously asking me that?!" Mei''s voice rose in pitch, anger and confusion coloring her words.


    "Meet? Park? I... don''t recall doing any of that. I don''t even remember calling you yesterday. Are you sure this wasn''t just another one of those weird dreams or something?"


    "What?! No! Of course not! How the hell would this be a dream when you even sent me that VHS tape? I literally still have it with me!" she snapped, reaching into her bag to double-check that the tape was indeed there.


    "VHS tape?" Martin''s tone shifted, becoming uneasy. "Okay, this is getting weird. I''ve never even had one of those."


    "You''re kidding, right?" Mei''s voice dropped, a quiet anger simmering beneath her words.


    "Look, let''s just calm down and—" Martin suddenly stopped mid-sentence. "Huh?"


    "What now?" Mei asked impatiently.


    "The light''s out... Wha—AAAAAA—!" Martin''s scream cut through the line, loud and blood-curdling. Then came the abrupt beep of the call ending.


    "Martin?! Answer me!" Mei shouted, her voice trembling with panic. She redialed his number, but each attempt failed, met with the automated message: This line is occupied.


    "Goddammit!" she yelled, nearly throwing her phone in frustration. Her hands trembled as she forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to steady herself.


    Our Home:


    The Guardian''s headquarters were steeped in darkness, the power evidently out. Only the security cameras remained operational, their faint feeds capturing glimpses of the interior through the pervasive gloom.


    Four cameras monitored the space: one in the hall and the others in the west, north, and east wings.


    The hall''s camera revealed the reception desk at the center, its surface streaked with bloodstains. The crimson trail stretched up the double-sided staircase, leading to a wide-open door at the top. Beyond the door lay nothing but impenetrable blackness.


    In the east wing, the feed showed a small corridor with three doors. Each bore a name: "Mei," "Cassandra," and "Gabriel." A portrait hung near the door labeled "Gabriel," but the darkness obscured its details.


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    The west wing''s camera displayed a living room of sorts. A couch with throw pillows sat opposite a large TV, separated by a small rectangular table. An old fridge stood in the northeast corner, and a broken microwave rested precariously on a bookshelf below the TV.


    Finally, the north wing''s camera showed little more than a faintly lit figure standing beneath a single, flickering torchlight. A doll sat ominously beside the figure, the details unclear through the grainy footage.


    Nyctophobia:


    The hall camera suddenly captured movement: a young woman entering the building. It was Mei, her expression taut with a mix of annoyance and unease.


    "Martin? Where are you? What happened?!" she called out, her voice echoing through the empty space. She repeated his name several times, but the silence was unyielding.


    Frustrated, she pulled a flashlight from her brown, multi-pocketed handbag. As she flicked it on, the piercing beam illuminated the reception desk, revealing the bloodstains more clearly. Her breath hitched, and her complexion turned pale.


    The blood trail led her gaze up the staircase toward the ominous open door. A broken phone lay abandoned on the desk beside a dormant computer.


    With shaking hands, she pointed the flashlight toward the dark doorway. Slowly, she began to ascend the stairs, her footsteps heavy with dread.


    The north wing camera captured her entering the room. The flashlight cut through the gloom, revealing a horrifying sight: a statue standing prominently in the center of the space.


    It was disturbingly familiar.


    Mei froze, her jaw dropping as she stared at the grotesque figure. Tears streamed down her cheeks as memories she''d fought to bury came rushing back, overwhelming her.


    Her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, the flashlight slipping from her grasp and casting jagged shadows across the walls. The camera feed flickered, then cut to static.


    Oblivious:


    "Good morning, my dear students! It''s me, Thomas, and welcome back to Mon Petit Connaisseur!" The cheerful voice of a man filled the screen. He stood in front of a chalkboard, gesturing animatedly toward the camera.


    "Today, mes chers étudiants, we''ll learn about one of the greatest wonders of the human body: the soul crystal!"


    "And today, we have a special guest, a professor of great renown. Please give a warm welcome to Walter Miller!"


    Seated across from him was a tall man in a dark suit. A nameplate pinned to his chest read "Walter Miller." He glared silently at the camera, his expression cold and unwelcoming.


    "W-well, anyway..." Thomas continued nervously.


    (Why didn''t he say anything?) he thought.


    "A soul is what makes a living being, well... alive. But did you know that—"


    Walter abruptly interrupted. "How long?"


    "Huh? I-uh—what do you mean?"


    "How long has it been, Thomas? Three years? Five?"


    "W-what are you talking about? (Whisper) Hey, this isn''t in the script!"


    Walter''s eyes narrowed. "What script? Who were you even talking to?"


    "Who wa—the audience, of course! Who else?!"


    "What audience?"


    Thomas glanced nervously toward the camera. "What are you talking about? The audience is right there!"


    Walter sighed as he stepped closer, his shadow stretching unnaturally long.


    "Take off your glasses, Thomas. They''re worsening your eyesight. Take them off, then look at me," he said as he bowed down.


    Thomas hesitated, then slowly removed his glasses. As he looked up, his face turned ashen as he saw:


    Nothing. No matter where he looked, Thomas did not see anything besides the radio in front of him.


    "Now, now, no need to be so surprised. It was always like this, you know," said the radio.


    "He''s right, Thomas," declared a small doll in a blue dress sitting beside Thomas''s chair. "Nothing changed. You just were never the observant type," it continued, chuckling.


    "Wh-who are you?! What is this?!"


    "Come on, Thomas. I never befriended an idiot. You already know the answer to those questions!"


    Thomas gasped in surprise as a faint shadow appeared to replace his.


    "G-get away from me!" His breath grew heavier by the second as he tried to move, to no avail.


    "Holy crap, no need to be so dramatic," it said.


    "We don''t want to hurt you... (murmur) Well, I do, but that''ll have to wait," the shadow continued.


    "He is right, Thomas. We do not mean any harm. However, she does," the doll confirmed.


    "W-who''s she?" he asked, his heart still beating faster than ever.


    "We don''t have time to explain. She will find us beforehand. All we ask is that you stay still and listen to what follows. And please, if you value your soul, don''t talk when the doll starts," the radio answered.


    "What the heck do y—"


    "I said SHUT UP!"


    "..."


    The doll began:


    "To conquer fear, step forth and see,


    The realm of shadows welcomes thee.


    Yet heed this truth, for once it is spoken,


    Peace shall fade, and bonds be broken."


    The moment the doll finished, the three entities disappeared, leaving no trace. Only two things remained in the void of that unsettling place: Thomas and a strange, faintly glowing violet door.