The realization hit harder than he liked. The pain came from pushing his abilities too far. That ghost must be exaggerating it, he thought. Turns out, he just needed to absorb a ghost to feel better. That ghost didn't mention anything about it earlier.
A few more seconds passed. The spirit vanished entirely, drawn into him like water into dry soil.
Matthew didn't waste time. He stepped back again, keeping his eyes on the hallway ahead. Still nothing. Still quiet.
But at least his head had stopped throbbing.
Then he felt it.
Something shifted.
The temperature dropped even lower, a dense pressure creeping into the surrounding air. He couldn't see anything different, but the space ahead… changed. The shadows weren't just dark anymore. They felt thick. Pressed in.
Then came the smell.
It was faint at first, like wet soil and rust. Then stronger. The distinct stench of rot. Old, wet rot. Like flesh that had been buried and forgotten, now exposed again.
