The elevator lurched violently, slamming Rhea against the mirrored wall. She winced as the dim fluorescent light flickered, then died, swallowing her in darkness. Her breath hitched as the hum of machinery went silent, leaving only the echo of her ”acing heartbeat—and Dominic’s slow, measured breaths from across the small, suffocating space.
“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, fumbling in the dark for the panel, pressing buttons that no longer lit up. “Stuck in here with you.”
Dominic’s voice drifted out of the shadows, calm, but with an edge that made her skin crawl. “You say that like I’m the one who planned it.”
Her stomach tightened. Dominic always had a way of making her uncomfortable, of twisting every situation into something darker. Something unnerving.
“Why wouldn’t you?” she snapped, trying to hide the unease creeping into her voice. “You’re always pulling something. Coasting by with that smug grin, making everything worse.”
There was a long silence. Then, slowly, Dominic’s voice slid through the dark, closer now. “Worse for you, maybe. Not for me.”
Rhea’s breath quickened, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The space around her felt smaller, the walls pressing in. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Always trying to get under my skin.”
He chuckled, the sound low, dangerous. “Maybe I don’t have to try so hard.”
The elevator creaked, the sound of metal grinding against metal making Rhea’s skin prickle. She reached out blindly, her fingers brushing something cold—Dominic’s arm. She snatched her hand back as if burned, her pulse spiking.
“You alright?” His voice was soft now, almost caring, but there was something too smooth, too practiced about it.
“I’m fine,” she lied, her voice barely audible.
“Are you?” he whispered, and she swore she could feel his breath on her skin.
The darkness seemed to grow thicker, swallowing her whole. Her fingers fumbled, trying to find the wall, the panel—anything to ground her. But the space felt wrong, too tight, too close. Was it shrinking? Or was that just her mind playing tricks on her?
“It’s funny,” Dominic said, his voice floating through the blackness. “How you think you’re in control of everything. But look at you now. You can’t control a damn thing.”
“Shut up,” Rhea hissed, the panic rising in her chest.
“Why?” he asked, his voice curling around her like smoke. “You’re not scared, are you?”
Her throat tightened. He was closer now. She could feel it. His presence was oppressive, overwhelming, filling every inch of the tiny space.
“I said shut up, Dominic,” she snapped, but the words came out weaker than she’d intended.
A soft chuckle. “You know what’s funny, Rhea? I’m not even here.”
The words hung in the air, twisting around her like a noose. She blinked, confusion and fear tangling together. “What?”
“I’m not real,” he whispered, his voice turning cold, sinister. “I never was.”
Her heart pounded. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Think about it,” he said, the words dripping with amusement. “All those times you thought you saw me, heard me. All those moments where you blamed me for everything going wrong. It wasn’t me, Rhea. It was never me.”
Rhea pressed herself against the cold wall, her mind racing, fragments of memory flashing before her eyes. Dominic laughing at her frustration. Dominic smirking when things went wrong. But was he ever really… there?
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, you’re real. I’ve worked with you for two years.”
His voice was soft now, almost pitying. “Have you? Or have you just been seeing what your mind wants to see?”
The elevator let out a groaning creak, and the lights flickered, dimly illuminating the space for just a second. In the flash of light, Rhea looked across the elevator—only to see that it was empty.
Dominic wasn’t there.
The lights died again, plunging her back into darkness, and she felt the world tilt beneath her feet.
“I’m always with you, Rhea,” Dominic’s voice whispered, but this time it wasn’t from across the elevator—it was inside her own head.
The walls felt like they were closing in, the air thick and heavy. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her knees buckled, and she slid down to the floor, gasping for air, her vision swimming.
“It’s your mind, Rhea,” he continued, his voice softer, closer. “You’ve been alone this whole time. I’m just the voice you created, the one that feeds on your fear.”
“No,” she whimpered, clutching her head, trying to drown out the sound of his voice. But it was everywhere. Surrounding her. Inside her.
“Yes,” he whispered. “You’ve always been alone. And now? Now you can’t escape me.”
Her chest constricted, panic clawing at her throat. The elevator felt like a tomb, the darkness pressing in from all sides. She couldn’t escape. Not from this. Not from him. Because he wasn’t real.
But he was. He had to be.
Right?
The lights flickered on again, and she looked up—only to find herself alone in the elevator. There was no sign of Dominic. No sound. No presence.
Just her.
Rhea staggered to her feet as the doors slid open, revealing the bright, empty lobby. But the suffocating weight of Dominic’s voice lingered, coiling inside her like a parasite, feeding on her fear.
And as she stepped out of the elevator, her breath shaky, her hands trembling, she knew the truth.
He would always be with her.
Because Dominic wasn’t a person.
He was her darkness. Her fear. The manifestation of everything she couldn’t control.
And now, he was a part of her.
Forever.
