The rain pounded against the glass of the prison transport, droplets streaming down the windows as the vehicle rolled through the pitch-black road under a starless sky. You sat in the front seat, gripping a ring of keys tightly each key a different size and shape. Everything was deathly silent, save for the sound of your own breathing and the rhythmic patter of rain on the roof.

Behind you, the flickering streetlights briefly illuminated the silhouette of a man in handcuffs—Jack the Eater, a serial killer captured after years of pursuit. You remembered his case files well: over ten victims, no clear motive, bodies found partially devoured.

Now, he sat motionless, his restraints securely fastened to the metal frame of the vehicle. He tilted his head slightly, sharp eyes gazing out the window before letting out a low, quiet chuckle.

"Strange... tonight feels different."

His voice sent an inexplicable chill down your spine. You glanced at him through the rearview mirror, careful not to let him see how unsettled you felt by his words.

The road ahead stretched into darkness, so black that even the headlights barely seemed to penetrate it.

Then it happened.

A shadow darted across the road.

"Hey! Watch out!!"

Everything happened too fast you swerved the wheel, the tires screeching against the pavement. The deafening clash of metal against metal rang out as the vehicle lost control and flipped.

Everything went black

...

Darkness swallowed everything. Only the flickering light from the high ceiling illuminated the vast, empty space that stretched endlessly. The floor was ice-cold. The walls were covered in deep scratches—patterns that seemed to tell the story of something that had desperately tried to escape.

But there were no doors. No windows. Just rooms upon rooms, overlapping in an endless maze.

A suffocating pressure weighed down on you, the very air feeling like it was crushing you into the ground. Jack the Eater still sat there—his handcuffs intact—but the faint smile on his lips felt eerily out of place.

"So... we've finally arrived." he murmured, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

Footsteps.

Not yours. Not Jack's.

They echoed from somewhere deep within the shadows.

You had to do something before it found you first.

PS. This dimension is an endless labyrinth composed of overlapping empty rooms. These rooms are connected in a chaotic, ever-changing manner—a path you once took may no longer exist in the next moment. There is no fixed direction, and no one can create a map of this place.

Some walls bear faint, desperate markings from past victims who were trapped here before. Some rooms are stained with blood, while others are damp and suffocating, as if untouched for centuries. The dim lights flicker unpredictably, and at times... whispers echo from somewhere unseen.