Chapter Three

Chapter Three - His Voice Beyond Mortal Thought

They always say that madness comes quietly.

But in the dark, madness sings.

I don't remember how long I'd been walking.

Time had dissolved into the rhythm of my steps, the scrape of boots against stone, the fading hum of my guitar.

The air was heavy, wet, and cold enough to sting the inside of my lungs.

My flashlight flickered again. I hit it against my palm, muttering, "Don't you dare."

It stayed on dimly, like it was afraid.

The tunnel widened, and then the ground sloped downward into what looked like a natural hall. The ceiling was lost in shadow, the walls glistening as if the stone itself was sweating.

And there at the center stood a vertical beam of wood.

A pillar, tall and ancient, carved smooth as bone like a monolith.

Something inside me tightened. I stopped breathing for a moment, listening.

Nothing.

Then...

Why are you here?

The voice wasn't sound. It didn't pass through the air it sank straight into my head.

It was deep, male and roughened by age and fury.

My flashlight flickered again, catching glimpses of movement.

But there was nothing to see no figure, no shadow, only that wooden beam, dark and scarred.

"Great," I whispered. "Now I'm hearing things."

Answer me.

The words rattled through the chamber, vibrating in the walls. Dust fell from above, trickling down like ash.

I tightened my grip on the guitar strap. "Who are you?"

You trespass.

"I was invited." I took a step closer, voice steady even as my pulse thundered.

"They said there's a fortune down here. Maybe you should've locked your door better."

A low growl rumbled through the stone.

Do you mock me, mortal?

"Kind of." I tilted my head, studying the beam again. "Though, to be fair, I mock everyone."

For a moment, silence. Then something like a breath slow, hollow, ancient.

No one has reached this depth for centuries.

I swallowed hard. "Yeah, well. Guess I'm good at ignoring warnings."

A faint light began to shimmer across the surface of the wood not flame, nor electricity, but something stranger. Words began to appear on it, glowing faintly like letters burned into glass:

You should not have come.

"Oh, I get that a lot." I crouched down, inspecting it closer. "But since I'm here, care to explain what you are? Or do I have to guess?"

The letters shifted.

Leave the torches unlit.

"Why?"

The light hurts.

That gave me pause. "Hurts what? You?"

The glow dimmed. Then the voice again lower this time, almost pained.

This is the only place I can exist. You... ruin it.

I froze. The echo of the words wasn't just in the air it was inside me, resonating like the strings of my guitar when struck.

"You're serious," I said quietly. "You're... trapped here."

Bound.

I exhaled. "What did you do?"

A sound, low and distant like laughter buried beneath centuries of dust.

I disobeyed.

"Who?"

Those above. Those who make the sun burn and the seas move. They sent me here between the living and the dead. I hold the gate closed.

I stared at the dark beam again, a chill crawling up my spine.

"Then what's behind it?"

The air thickened. The sound of weeping returned, faint and scattered, echoing from nowhere.

The end of everything you know.

My flashlight went out, the pure darkness returned. My breath caught, shallow and fast.

Then I heard it, a whisper against my ear, too close to be imagined.

You carry something strange inside you.

Something... familiar.

My heart jumped. "Get out of my head."

You came to me for a reason.

"I came for money."

Liar.

The air trembled, pressing against my skin like a storm about to break.

I stumbled back, the weight of it suffocating.

"Whatever you are," I hissed, "you don't scare me."

The laughter returned quiet, broken, unbearably sad.

Then why are you shaking?

I realized I was. My hands trembled around the neck of the guitar. My knees felt weak but I wasn't going to let it win.

So I strummed.

One single, defiant note.

It sliced through the silence, ringing bright and alive.

The sound echoed, pure and strange, and for a fleeting instant the mourning stopped.

...What is that sound?

"Music," I said softly. "The one thing that still listens to me."

The cave fell silent again then, almost gently.

Dahlia.

The way he said my name made my chest tighten like it wasn't a name, but a memory he was reaching for.

"How do you know my name?" I whispered.

But I received no answer, only the faint hum returning, the mourning of the dead rising once more, swallowing the stillness.

I stood there, staring at the dark beam that seemed to breathe.

And for the first time since stepping into that cave, I felt not fear but recognition.

Like I had finally found something that had been waiting for me all along.

I told myself it was just the darkness getting to me. Lack of sleep, and stress or too much caffeine and not enough common sense.

The dead probably had better things to do than whisper to a half-broke woman dragging a guitar through a nightmare cave.

Yet something kept pulling me forward, deep and unseen, guiding me down through the crumbling stairs until I reached that space where light refused to exist.

That was where I met him...or rather where he decided I was worth noticing.

The silence pressed against my ears.

And then....

***You don't belong here***.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

A soft, steady whisper that slipped into my thoughts as naturally as breathing, that wasn't loud, just knowing. Like someone stating an obvious fact.

I tightened my grip on the guitar strap.

"Oh, really?"

I glanced around the chamber.

"Then where exactly do I belong? The bakery? The morgue?"

A chuckle echoed through my mind.

It sounded neither comforting or warm but rather like wind passing through empty graves.

***You speak easily for someone who's afraid***.

"Afraid?"

I huffed, then nudged a loose stone with my boot.

"Of what? Dust and weird acoustics?"

***No***.

He said, his tone turning smooth, lazy almost teasing.

***Of being seen***.

The words landed harder than I expected, I ignored them.

Instead, I crouched beside my backpack and pulled out one of the emergency torches.

The lighter sparked, the torch hissed before flames caught. Gold light spread across the chamber.

***You think that will save you***?

"It'll save me from walking into walls," I muttered. "Which is more than your voice ever did."

He laughed again, quieter this time like he'd forgotten what laughter sounded like and was trying it out.

***You hide behind jokes remarkably well***.

I lit another torch.

"You hide behind dramatic entrances."

He didn't respond, instead...

***Tell me, little wanderer***.

His ancient voice drifted around me.

***Why carry an instrument into the belly of grief***?

I glanced at my guitar, although, I still wasn't sure.

"If I died," I said eventually, "my relatives would probably wreck it while fighting over whatever I left behind."

...***Pardon***?

"Long story."

I adjusted the strap.

"Besides, since I already brought it, I figured I might as well use it."

***You believe it protects you***?

I unconsciously plucked a string, letting the note rise between us.

"I don't know."

I shrugged.

"But if all those whispers are just sound messing with people's heads, maybe another sound can interfere with them."

***Interfere***.

"Exactly, counterattack."

***You intend to fight an ancient force with music***?

I thought about it.

"When you say it like that, it sounds stupid."

***It is stupid***.

"Well, screaming didn't seem very productive."

..***Intriguing***.

I blinked.

"Intriguing?"

***You mortals are absurd***.

"You just noticed?"

***You burn yourselves simply to spite the dark***.

"Yeah, well," I said, lighting another torch, "we're dramatic that way."

He went quiet for a while.

I moved through the chamber, torch by torch, until light began to chase back the endless black.

My hands were shaking, but I didn't stop.

I needed to see to prove this place was real and not some hallucination cooked up by fear and caffeine withdrawal.

The altar came into view, cracked marble, its edges etched with symbols I didn't recognize.

I moved to place the last torch near it.

***Stop***.

The word cracked through the air like a whip.

I froze, and instinctively look up to the monolith.

***What do you think you're doing***?

His voice sharpened sounding like a thunder, like ancient authority.

"I'm lighting the place up," I said slowly, "because unlike you, I like seeing where I'm about to die."

***You mock***,

He said, voice rougher now.

***But I told you, it hurts***.

"You really don't want mood lighting?"

The hum beneath the mountain deepened.

***It hurts***.

I frowned, his voice after he said that almost a hint of pain and melancholy hidden by layers of stones.

"Does it actually hurt?"

"Or are you just being dramatic?"

That earned me a long, deliberate silence.

***You think you understand pain***?

He whispered finally.

***You have no idea what it means to exist without form, without touch, and without the passing of time***.

The torchlight flickered and the chamber grew colder.

"Yeah," I muttered, lowering the torch. "Try living with rent and hunger. Same difference."

***You insolent creature***.

"And you're loud."

The air trembled a cold draft sweeping through the room as if the cavern itself was offended.

I set the torch down anyway.

***You should be grateful***.

"Should I?"

***I haven't killed you***.

"You've only judged my life choices."

***Your life choices are terrible***.

"You met me five minutes ago."

***They were terrible before that***.

I snorted, then sat down against one of the pillars.

"Would you shut up?" I sighed,

"Can you at least point me toward something valuable?"

...***Valuable***?

"I'm trying to make money here."

***Money***,

He echoed, as if testing the word. Then, sharper:

***How dare you mock my temple for your so-called money***.

I glanced around.

"Temple?"

I tilted my head, staring up at the shimmering ceiling. "More like a prison. Don't flatter yourself."

There was a long pause, the kind of silence that had weight.

Then softly, almost petulantly

***Can you stop picking your nose? It is disgusting***.

I blinked, my hand froze."...You can see me?"

***Unfortunately***.

"Oh, good," I said, flicking the offending finger. "Then you can see me not caring."

He sighed, the sound like wind through a crypt.

***That is revolting***.

"You've existed for thousands of years and this is what bothers you?"

***What bothers me is your utter lack of etiquette***.

"But you live in a cave."

***It is not a cave***.

"Right."

I looked around.

"It's an aggressively decorated cave."

The silence that followed somehow felt offended yet there's still a trace of amusement to it.

Finally.....

***Fine***. ***Take whatever you wish. Just not from the altar***.

"I'm not interested in cursed junk," I said, already scanning the floor.

***Not interested***?

He said, voice curling like smoke.

***Or too scared***?

I laughed under my breath.

"Scared my ass. I just have a policy: don't touch anything that glows and whispers."

...***Reasonable***.

"I know."

A low chuckle brushed against my thoughts, deep, ancient and maddeningly calm.

***You amuse me, Dahlia***.

I froze, my hand hovered over a pile of crystals. "...What did you just call me?"

***Your name***,

He said simply.

***It suits you. Thorns wrapped in silk***.

"Cute," I muttered. "But also creepy. You stalk all your intruders like this?"

***Only the ones who play lullabies to the dead***.

Something shivered inside me not fear, not quite but something stranger.

"Whatever," I said, forcing a smirk. "I'm taking your shiny rocks and selling them to the highest bidder. Try not to cry about it."

***Cry***?

His tone turned low, almost smiling.

***You think I have tears left, little thief***?

"Then laugh," I said, pocketing a shard of violet stone. "I'd rather you haunt me with style."

And he did, a quiet, velvety laugh that echoed across the chamber, soft as a heartbeat.

Beautiful in a way that unsettled me.

I didn't look back. I didn't dare.

But I knew he was still there, watching, waiting the dark pressing closer every time I moved toward the light.

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