“…Dark.”

She couldn’t see anything. This space was much darker than below. No windows or any openings to the outside, it must have been ages since fresh air made itself at home here.

Before the hatch slammed shut, Etta heard the noise of something falling. Or an object that landed near her.

By the sound, it should be right next to her. And though she still felt the need to sleep, she fumbled around the ground until finding the thing she unknowingly needed.

Muffled voices were heard below, but she couldn’t hear what was being said. She had no clue about what was happening down there.

She touched something with her fingertips, it was glassy and metallic. She held it and felt around it until stumbling across a switch.

Light emerged and passed through dust particles and cobwebs. She could finally see around herself.

This has obviously not been tended to for a while. Her clothes have already begun to collect dust while she sat on the ground. Her footprints could easily be seen just by walking.

There were closed and opened crates and chests, some various tools and winter equipment were stored inside. Other items Etta couldn’t know of were also stored inside. She couldn’t discern anything of the things around here, as if they didn’t originate in the plains of snow.

Worn-out clothing piled up in corners of the attic, clothing in all sizes, even something that would fit her. Ripped cloth and other fabric were also scattered around.

Nothing interested her, except for one unique small box. It wasn’t large, it could maybe hold a few handfuls of small trinkets. And on the ground was an open lock, with a key inserted inside its keyhole. That was the only noticeable item that had no dust covering it. Also, the path towards the small box has been swept of dust.

Etta reached toward the small casket and put it down on the ground. Her lamp was put aside, and she slowly opened it.

Nat told me to find something curious up here. I hope I find something that would make him happy.

There was a glow that came from the casket. A blue color, in all its changing hues. A misty haze flew out and circled the attic, and it surrounded Etta. It turned the air to its color. The color of the crystals. Inside the casket was the cause of the altering air.

If you find a glowing crystal, don’t inhale its toxic air. That’s what she was told. The description of a glowing crystal fits what was inside.

Even as she was drowsy, unable to clear off her tiredness, she knew she needed to hold her breath.

She couldn’t hold it in for long, however. Thinking of a decision was hard. She didn’t know what to do.

I need to breathe. Covering my mouth is fine, the blue won’t pass through.

Etta inhaled. It felt normal. There was no feeling of danger. She was safe. She felt safe.

Her eyes were closed. A touch of comfort was felt. Someone was by her side. She distinctively recognized who it was, though there was no face to remember.

Suddenly that comfort went away as her brother was pulled forcefully towards someone else. That man had no existence, their father also with no face to be seen.

“Why aren’t you wearing the other one! What the hell have I been teaching you the past years! A fucking tape wouldn’t work! Boy, what were you thinking!?” Their father yelled.

It was an all too familiar scene. But never something so much realistic. Etta knew what the boy would respond and the response after that. It was something she couldn’t get out of her head once she had dreams. But once awake, it’s as if they get blurry, too hard to describe.

“But… mother…” the boy answered.

“She isn’t around anymore, how do you still not understand that? That mask was no longer her’s whe-”

The father choked on his words. It was too hard to say, too hard to remember. Etta had no memory of the person they were speaking of. Nothing came to her empty mind.

“The disease is only in your eyes, –––, not in your mind. You only make it think as if it is there, but there is nothing. I told you that countless times, and even with your sister by your side you still cower down. Now keep moving to the shelter.”

They began moving through the fog. The comfort of her brother’s hand in hers kept her moving. Seconds ticked by, and the scene began to worsen. But though it was getting harder to detect what was what, she still saw the entire scene unfold.

“It won’t go away, dad! Even if I shake my head, they won’t disappear!” the boy shouted.

The storm grew harsher and harsher. The heavens gave no moment of silence.

“–––, you can do it. Just focus on us, don’t think about any-”

The scene became more static as it went on. After the fall of something unnatural, the memory faded once more.

She was back in the attic. The blue hue still covered her surroundings. Her mouth and nose were exposed, she didn’t try holding her breath. She didn’t feel as if she was affected by anything. There was a memory of her having experienced using a gas mask before, learning how to strap it perfectly over her head hundreds of times. But that experience was only a distant echo. She should have the quick instinct on pulling out the mask when necessary. But all of that was just something she learned from a dying memory. There was no reaction once the haze flowed around her.

Her father, someone with no existence, taught her the crucial parts of how to survive this horror. But everything she knew was nothing but a broken reflection.

The attic should be similar to when she first entered it, but changes began to appear. The walls and ceiling began to shatter and break, forms of familiar minerals from the forest, covered the splinters. Crystals that glowed blue stuck out like stalactites or icicles. The floor also erupted its crystalline spears, nearly skewering Etta from their speeds.

Etta stood up and wandered through the suddenly expanded attic without better caution. She didn’t know what to think. Perhaps she was too sleepy, too tired to know what was happening.

It began to look like a cavern, but wooden pieces hid behind the crystals. The crates with various equipment froze over, the fabric of clothes the same. She was still in the attic but also wasn’t.

Cold. So much colder. She should be in the house, where it was just enough to be livable for her. But the air wasn’t false, this feeling was the same as being outside.

Her breath was visible when breathing. She inhaled and exhaled. She needed to do this if she wanted to keep her life. Yet it stung, her lungs felt as if they were burning, icy flames erupting inside her.

A screech. A loud and familiar screech. It gave sounds of breaking glass, with glimmering icicles to support that horrible howl. Its eyes stared from the abyss, the static void appeared from the back of the attic. Its reality, still questionable, an existence similar to that of her hazed father and brother. But its sounds were far too real.

It was too hard to stand up against, she needed to hold her ears shut. It was too loud. So agonizing. It wasn’t a continuous screech, it came out every other second, or longer. But it was enough to make you hear ringing in your ears, or could even cause you to go momentarily deaf.

How this being manage to create such horrid sounds was a mystery. It should have some form of a physical body, yet it looked only to be static, hiding in its toxic fog.

She suddenly felt more awake than ever. And she began to scream. She cowered down, holding both of her ears as tightly as she could. But that did little to nothing to hide its shattering voice.

“Brother! Brother!”

She called out to her brother, even tried calling his empty name. But there was no response. She could only remember something she remembered many times over.

The disease is only in your eyes, –––, not in your mind. You only make it think as if it is there, but there is nothing.

She didn’t quite understand. What was her father saying at that moment to her brother? Is this fake? What disease?

There is something wrong with the air. The mask. Someone told me about them. They said I should use one when the air is bad.

But I don’t have one. Should I not breathe? But I would die. I don’t want to die. But this is so painful. I don’t like this sound. I don’t like what I see. I want to see brother. I want to see… Nat.

The lost girl didn’t stop screaming, even as she continued her train of thought.

“Go away! You… are fake!”

Just a disease. It’s only in the eyes. It’s only real if I think it’s real.

“You aren’t here! I’m alone!”

The screams continued. The void expanded and got ever closer. This sinister being wasn’t going to stop. Etta fell on her back. She prepared for the cold hard surface of crystals, but she felt the cold liquid instead. Her back got drenched in whatever pool she landed in. She opened her teary eyes to see that the color blue has faded sometimes in the middle of her screaming. Everything suddenly has turned red, and the crystals were nothing but distant thoughts.

She hasn’t seen anything like this before, she knew that for sure. It was so red, too red. The floor felt soft beneath the pool of red liquid. The walls pulsated in the rhythm of her quick heartbeat. Every surface visible had no wood or crystals, it has all turned into intertwined organic material. Etta knew nothing of the inside of living things, just the sight of this made her close her eyes even more than she actually could.

“Nat! Naaat! Brother!” She whimpered out his name, every time louder than the last. “NAAAT!”

She writhed on the pool of red liquid. Twisting and turning her head to the right and left, holding her ears, keeping her eyes shut. But nothing to keep the air away. She cried, the lost girl didn’t know what to do but cry. This moment felt like it has been going on for eternity. It was painful, so painful. She was afraid, scared. She just wanted to wake from this dream, from this hellish nightmare. She has slept enough, she felt more alive, the drowsiness was felt no more.

Something pulled her up from the pool. She couldn’t know what was happening. It felt as if someone, or something, began to haul her away. Was it that void? The thing that caused the horrible shrieks? The thing that caused her to see the red?

The touch felt familiar. It was more comforting than she thought it would feel. It was someone, not something. But she couldn’t make herself look with her false eyes to see who it was, and she couldn’t let go of her aching ears. Yet she wanted to. Someone was holding her tight.

“-ry. I’m sorry. Please, Etta, I’m so sorry!” Someone was giving forgiveness through their own tears. “I shouldn’t have looked into the attic. I shouldn’t have made you go up there. I didn’t think it would end like this.”

That, someone, was a boy. The lost girl recognized him. Even though he wasn’t her brother, it felt as if he was. This comfort was too familiar. And the echoes of voices from that dark abyss began to fade. The shrieks were going away. She barely managed to open her eyes and see through her tears to know she was no longer in the attic. She was just below the closed hatch. On the ground, no longer wet from the red, still cold as always.

Finally, after finding the curiosity up in the attic, she allowed herself to go to sleep.