The Empty Eyes

 It was a quiet evening when Evelyn heard the knock at her door. She hadn’t been expecting anyone, but when she opened it, a woman stood there, her face unfamiliar but somehow comforting, as if Evelyn had seen it in a dream long ago.

"I know this is unexpected, dear," the woman said with a soft, almost apologetic smile. "But I’m your Aunt Clara. I know you may not remember me, but I’m here now. We need to talk."

Evelyn stood frozen for a moment. Her heart skipped a beat. Aunt Clara? She had no memory of an aunt named Clara. Her parents had never mentioned a sister or any other relatives. She lived alone, in a house inherited from her late parents, and the few family members she knew had all passed away years ago.

But the woman’s eyes were warm, filled with a strange familiarity. Something about her presence—something almost magnetic—made Evelyn feel like she had known her forever.

"Aunt Clara?" Evelyn asked hesitantly. "I—I don’t remember you."

Clara’s smile remained gentle, almost too reassuring. "I know, dear. You were very young when I... left. But I’ve come back to make sure you’re safe. You’re in danger, Evelyn, and I’m here to help you."

Evelyn’s curiosity piqued, her mind racing for answers, yet she found herself inexplicably trusting this stranger. She stepped aside to allow Clara to enter. The woman carried a small, leather-bound bag, which she placed on the kitchen counter without a word. The scent of something strange, sweet yet bitter, lingered in the air.

"I’ve brought something for you, Evelyn," Clara continued as she opened her bag. From it, she pulled out a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid, deep violet in color. It sparkled in the light, almost as if it contained stars swirling inside.

Evelyn took a step back. "What is that?"

"Just a little potion," Clara said, her tone serene and soothing. "It’ll help you sleep, child. You’ve been through so much, and I know it’s been hard on you. You deserve rest."

The vial glinted in Clara’s hand, and Evelyn’s guard dropped. Something about Clara’s soft voice made her feel safe. She had no reason to suspect any ill intentions, and the potion, though strange, seemed harmless in the context of Clara’s calm demeanor.

Without thinking, Evelyn accepted the vial, and Clara gently encouraged her to drink it. As the liquid touched her lips, the taste was overwhelmingly sweet, a warmth spreading through her body like a gentle wave.

"Just relax, Evelyn. Rest now," Clara whispered, her voice melodic.

Evelyn’s eyes grew heavy, her body surrendering to the soothing effect of the potion. She fought the drowsiness for a moment but then gave in, sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When Evelyn awoke, the first thing she noticed was the suffocating stillness around her. The air was thick, cold—unnaturally so. She sat up, blinking rapidly as her surroundings came into focus. She wasn’t in her kitchen anymore.

Her house, the one she had lived in all her life, was gone. Instead, she found herself in a vast, desolate space—an endless, darkened wasteland. The sky above her was a sickly shade of gray, the sun a dull, unblinking orb that hung like a ghost in the air. The ground beneath her feet was cracked, dry, and barren, as if nothing had ever lived there.

Confusion and fear gripped her heart. Where am I?

A voice echoed through the emptiness, the same voice that had comforted her earlier.

"Evelyn..."

She spun around, and there, standing before her, was Clara. Her once warm, familiar face was now cold, hollow, and devoid of the warmth Evelyn had felt earlier. Clara’s smile was gone, replaced with something far more sinister.

"You... what did you do to me?" Evelyn demanded, her voice trembling.

Clara’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as if in amusement. "You are here now, Evelyn. You belong to this place."

"What is this place?" Evelyn gasped, backing away. "Why am I here?"

Clara’s lips curled into a smile, but it was a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "This is the Netherworld, Evelyn. You were never meant to stay in your world. I’ve been waiting for you to join me. And now, you’re finally here."

A shiver ran through Evelyn’s spine. The air seemed to grow colder, more oppressive. The Netherworld? The words felt unreal, like something from a nightmare. But as she looked around at the landscape, she realized there was no denying the truth. She had been taken—somehow, someway, she had been stolen from the world she knew and thrown into a place of death and darkness.

"How... how did I get here?" Evelyn whispered, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Clara didn’t respond. Instead, she turned, beckoning Evelyn to follow.

Reluctantly, Evelyn obeyed, her feet dragging against the desolate earth. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the eerie sound of distant whispers, voices that seemed to float in the air, too soft to catch but too unnerving to ignore.

As they walked, Evelyn began to notice strange figures lurking in the shadows, their forms barely distinguishable against the blackness. As they drew closer, their faces came into view. Hollow eyes, empty of life, stared at her—beings that had once been human but were now nothing more than wandering souls, trapped in the limbo of the Netherworld.

Evelyn’s pulse quickened. "Who are they? What happened to them?"

Clara’s smile returned, but this time, it was twisted, full of malice. "They are the ones who came before you. They were promised a life, a future, but they never escaped. They, too, drank the potion. They, too, thought they were receiving salvation. But in the end, they became nothing but shadows of their former selves, lost to this place forever."

Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest. She had thought Clara was here to help her. But Clara wasn’t her aunt—she was something far darker, a being who had lured her into the clutches of death.

"No..." Evelyn choked out, trembling. "I didn’t want this. I never asked for this."

Clara’s cold laugh echoed in the empty space. "You never had a choice, Evelyn. You never did. You were always meant to come here, just like the others. And now, you’re one of us."

Suddenly, the beings with empty eyes began to move, their bodies shifting unnaturally as they approached Evelyn, their gaze fixed on her.

In that moment, Evelyn understood. There was no escape. She was a prisoner now, trapped in a realm where time did not exist, where nothing but darkness and despair reigned. And as the cold hands of the empty-eyed beings reached for her, Evelyn realized that she would never wake up again.

The Netherworld had claimed her, and Aunt Clara had been its gatekeeper.

And in the endless night, Evelyn would wander, her eyes as empty as the souls before her.