The Beneath
Copyright© 2025 by Heel
Chapter 4: The Shadow in the Mind
Stella’s chest tightened as she crutched forward, each step a labor of will. Her heel dragged slightly on the gravel from time to time, the cast heavy and unyielding. Every muscle in her arms burned, but the dark pulse ahead pulled her onward, irresistible and terrifying.
She reached the edge of a small clearing and saw the source: a man slumped against a park bench, his face pale and sweat beading at his hairline. Even from a distance, Stella could feel it — the sickness, hot and crawling, clawing outward from him like a living shadow.
But there was more.
Beneath the illness, there was anger. Sharp, cold, directed at her. Accusation coiled through her chest like a steel wire, pulling and twisting. Her mind flashed: he thinks something’s her fault. Somehow, in the swirl of her fragile telepathy, the man’s panic and resentment wrapped around her, suffocating.
“I ... I can’t...” Stella whispered to herself, gripping the crutches tighter. The world felt too heavy, too loud. Even the positive emotions she had gathered earlier — the warmth of laughter, the softness of kindness — felt thin against this storm.
She shifted cautiously, leaning her weight on both crutches, and edged closer, careful not to tip over. The cast forced her leg straight and rigid; her heel dragged lightly on the gravel with each motion, reminding her of her fragility.
She focused on gentle thoughts — hope, calm, care — sending them outward in a trembling pulse. She imagined sunlight on her face, the quiet warmth of a mother laughing with a child, the soft reassurance of a stranger’s smile. Each image was a fragile shield she extended toward the man’s storm.
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