Choose how the story begins

The room felt smaller every time Sylas looked around, the walls closing in on him, pressing down with a suffocating weight. Evan was lying on the hard floor, wrapped in a thin blanket that didn't seem to help with the biting cold. His fever had only worsened over the past few days, and now his body shuddered with each labored breath. His normally vibrant silver eyes were dim, the life fading from them.

Sylas sat beside his brother, his own heart pounding with fear, his mind racing for something—anything—that could save Evan. But there was nothing. Just the cold, the silence, and the pain of watching the person he loved most in the world wither away in front of him.

"Evan, stay with me," Sylas whispered, his voice barely above a breath. He placed his hand on his brother's forehead, the heat beneath his skin a burning reminder of how helpless he truly felt. "You've been through worse. You've always pulled through. Please, don't give up now."

Evan barely moved, but his lips parted as though to speak. Sylas leaned in closer, his pulse quickening, desperate for a response.

"You're going to be fine," Sylas continued, though he could barely convince himself of the lie. "We'll get out of here. We'll find somewhere warm. I'll take care of you."

Evan let out a weak, almost inaudible cough before his eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. He looked at Sylas, but his gaze seemed distant, as if he was no longer fully aware of his surroundings.

"I'm so tired, Sylas," Evan murmured, his voice soft and fragile. "I don't think I can keep fighting… It's so dark here. So cold…"

"Don't talk like that," Sylas urged, though his throat tightened with unshed tears. He reached down, taking his brother's hand into his own. His fingers trembled, his grip tighter than it had ever been. "I'm here. I won't leave you. I won't let you be alone."

Evan's breath grew shallower, his eyelids heavy. Sylas could feel the temperature of his brother's skin rising, each labored breath growing more strained. The room seemed to grow colder in contrast, the shadows creeping closer, filling the space around them.

"I wish I could remember… I wish I knew who we really are," Evan murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. His voice was a fragile whisper that echoed the emptiness they both felt. "Do you think we ever had a family?"

Sylas froze, his heart clenching. He didn't know what to say. They didn't know anything about who they were. They didn't know how they had ended up here, or why they had been abandoned. All they had were each other, and the haunting feeling that something was missing, something important that had been lost long ago.

"I don't know," Sylas whispered, his voice low, rough with emotion. "But if we had a family, I know they would want us to be strong. And I know they would never want to see us like this. We can't give up."

Evan's eyes slipped closed once again, and his fingers weakened in Sylas's grip. But Sylas held on, unwilling to let go.

"Stay with me," Sylas repeated, his words breaking as a tear slipped down his cheek. "I promise... we'll find them. We'll find out who we really are. But you have to stay with me."

But even as the words left his lips, Sylas felt the terrifying weight of the silence around them. Was Evan slipping away? Was there truly no one coming for them? The uncertainty hung in the air like an insurmountable wall, but Sylas refused to accept it.

The room grew colder. And still, he refused to let go.
Start with this opening

About

Hope you like it.

Created
Mar 3, 2025
Updated
Feb 20, 2026
Version
v2
Origin
Imported

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