The Last Thing I Could Feel – A Gripping Tale of Fear and Mystery

The last thing I could feel was a thundering, unbearable pain crashing through my skull. It was like a lightning bolt had struck me directly. My mind was spinning in a dizzy, disoriented whirl, and my stomach twisted with nausea. I felt like I was falling endlessly from some invisible height, trapped in a downward spiral where I could neither land nor wake.

Where am I? What is happening to me? Where are my friends? Are they okay?

The thoughts raced through my head, tangled and frantic, but no answers came. The pounding inside my head intensified, each pulse like a hammer against my temples. I wanted to scream, to claw my way out of whatever nightmare this was—but before I could, the pain overwhelmed me again.

AAAH!

I bolted upright, gasping for air. I was suddenly wide awake—yet what I saw around me made no sense. I was in a crystal-white room, so bright it almost sparkled. The room wasn’t cold, but comfortably warm, and everything inside looked… expensive. The furniture—ornate chairs, intricately carved tables, and velvet drapes—looked like something from a royal palace. I didn’t just recognize their quality—I obsessed over these designs in magazines I could never afford. But now, somehow, I was surrounded by them.

How did I get here? Is this some rich person’s mansion? Or have I been kidnapped?

I tried to make sense of it, but my mind was still foggy. Then, a scream pierced the air, cutting through my thoughts.

“Help!”

I shot up from the bed, instantly alert. The voice… I knew that voice! But it echoed through the walls, making it hard to pinpoint. My heart pounded against my chest.

“Kate?” I whispered, barely audible. Is that you?

I needed to find a way out, to help whoever was calling. But the room had no visible doors—just endless white walls. Panic settled in my chest like a heavy stone. What if my friends are hurt? What if I can’t save them? Tears blurred my vision as the fear sank deeper. I collapsed to my knees, sobbing in helpless frustration.

Then—footsteps.

Slow, deliberate, growing louder. Someone was coming.

I froze, every muscle tensed, listening to the approaching sounds. Shadows danced under the sliver of light on the far wall. Someone was turning a hidden door handle—it was built seamlessly into the wall.

Through the faint opening, I saw the shadow of a tall, broad-shouldered man. I needed a weapon—anything. My eyes scanned the room frantically until I spotted a grey baton propped next to a peculiar chestbox. I grabbed it with trembling hands, my body shaking but determined.

Step by careful step, I crept towards the door. The light on the other side grew brighter as it opened wider. The figure stepped inside, and in his hand was a bundle of files, bound tightly. What startled me most was that the files looked familiar—almost identical to the ones I had kept from my college project work.

I raised the baton, ready to defend myself, when the man finally stepped into full view. He wasn’t a stranger—not entirely. His face was hidden behind a half-mask, but his eyes… his eyes were familiar.

“You?!” I gasped.

He stared at me, as if equally shocked by my presence. Before I could demand answers, I caught a glimpse of another shadow moving just beyond the door. And then—another scream. Louder this time.

“Kate!” I cried, and without hesitation, I charged past the man, swinging the baton to keep him at bay. The corridor beyond was a winding maze of white walls and bright lights, but the echoes of Kate’s screams guided me forward.

I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know who had taken us or why. But I did know one thing:

I wasn’t leaving without my friends.

And the last thing I could feel—beyond the pain, fear, and confusion—was a burning resolve to survive… and fight.

Moral of the Story

Even in the face of fear and uncertainty, courage arises from the desire to protect the ones we love. When everything feels lost, determination and resilience become our greatest weapons.