Day 9 — 10:05 AM (Normal World)
"I'm telling you something's wrong with him."
My mother's voice cut through the waiting room like a blade wrapped in worry.
"I've never seen him eat like that. Not even when he was a kid."
"I'm fine, Mom."
I said it automatically.
Too automatically.
My father didn't say anything.
He just watched me.
That made it worse.
10:17 AM — Doctor's Cabin
The room smelled clean.
Too clean.
Like chemicals trying to erase reality.
"Sit."
The doctor gestured casually, flipping through a file that had my name on it like it meant something.
Like it explained anything.
"So," he said, adjusting his glasses, "your parents say you've been experiencing… extreme hunger?"
"…For a few days."
I kept my voice steady.
Controlled.
"Like… nothing I ate was enough."
"And now?"
"…Now it's gone."
He paused.
Looked at me.
Not at my words.
At me.
"Gone?" he repeated.
"Yes."
"How?"
"I don't know."
That part wasn't a lie.
He hummed, writing something down.
"Any dizziness? Hallucinations? Blackouts?"
For a split second—
A cube of endless space flashed in my mind.
A rotten alley.
Blood.
Laughter.
"…No."
10:26 AM — Silence Between Truths
The doctor leaned back.
Calm.
Certain.
Comfortably wrong.
"Your vitals are normal."
He tapped the file.
"Blood pressure, glucose, neurological responses—everything is perfectly fine."
My mother leaned forward. "But the eating—"
"Stress response," he interrupted gently.
"Teenagers go through phases. Sudden metabolic spikes, emotional fluctuations…"
His pen tapped twice.
Decision made.
"You're…"
He smiled.
"Normal."
10:27 AM — The Word
Normal.
The word echoed strangely in my head.
Not comforting.
Not reassuring.
Just…
Wrong.
Because somewhere—
Right now—
Another version of me was sitting in a dead city, counting food like it was oxygen.
But here?
I was just…
Normal.
"…See?" I said, standing up. "Told you."
My mother wasn't convinced.
But she nodded anyway.
Because the world made sense again.
For them.
11:02 AM — Prescription
"Just in case," the doctor added, scribbling on a pad, "take these for a few days."
Tablets.
White.
Small.
Meaningless.
I took them.
Held them in my palm.
"…Thanks," I said.
11:20 AM — Outside the Clinic
The sun felt too bright.
The world too… stable.
"You should still take care," my mother said.
"No more overeating like that, okay?"
"…Yeah."
I looked down at the strip of tablets in my hand.
For a moment—
A thought crept in.
What if I store them?
What if I eat them… there?
Would they work the same?
Would medicine from this world…
Heal that one?
My fingers tightened slightly.
Eat them.
The urge came suddenly.
Sharp.
Unnatural.
Not hunger.
Something else.
Like a memory of hunger.
An echo.
A shadow clawing at my mind.
Take them all.
Store them.
Consume everything.
My breathing slowed.
"…No."
I slipped the tablets into my pocket.
Untouched.
The hunger—
Was gone.
But not really.
It was just…
Waiting.
11:47 PM — Before Sleep
I lay in bed, staring into the dark.
"Normal…"
I whispered.
My lips curled slightly.
"…Yeah."
Somewhere between a smile and something else.
Because now I knew.
The world didn't understand me.
The doctor didn't understand me.
Even my parents—
Didn't understand me.
But the box did.
And the other world?
That world was honest.
That world didn't lie.
Didn't pretend.
Didn't label survival as a "phase."
It just asked one question.
Can you survive?
My eyes slowly closed.
And just before sleep took me—
My hand tightened slightly.
As if holding something invisible.
The box.
.........................
The Hunger That Crossed Worlds
Day 1 — 07:10 AM (Normal World)
I woke up in my bed.
Warm.
Safe.
Alive.
For a moment, I just stared at the ceiling… waiting.
Waiting for the smell of rot.
Waiting for the screams.
Waiting for something to break.
Nothing did.
Day 1 — 11:52 PM
I didn't want to sleep.
Because I knew.
Deep down—
Sleep wasn't rest anymore.
It was a doorway.
I lost.
My eyes closed.
Day 2 — ?? (Apocalypse World)
Cold.
Hunger.
Pain.
I woke up curled beside the dumpster, my stomach twisting so violently it felt like something inside me was trying to eat its way out.
"…Ahh…"
Even breathing hurt.
My throat was dry—no, not dry.
Scratched.
Like I had swallowed sand.
"Food…"
The word came out as a broken whisper.
Day 2 — 06:30 AM (Normal World)
I woke up again.
Back.
Safe.
And then—
I ran to the kitchen.
I didn't think.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't even sit down.
I grabbed bread.
Ate it.
Grabbed more.
Ate faster.
Jam. Biscuits. Leftover rice. Cold curry. Milk straight from the packet.
"Slow down!" my mother shouted.
"What's wrong with you?!"
I didn't answer.
Because I couldn't.
I wasn't eating because I was hungry.
I was eating because I was dying somewhere else.
Day 3 — Pattern
It continued.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Sleep.
Switch.
Survive.
Repeat.
Two worlds.
Two bodies.
One mind.
Day 5 — Realization
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my hands.
"…I have two bodies."
The words felt unreal.
But they were true.
"One lives here…"
I clenched my fist.
"…and one is dying there."
Sleep wasn't rest.
It was transfer.
Every time I slept—
I woke up in the other world.
No delay.
No overlap.
Just—
Switch.
Day 6 — 02:14 AM (Apocalypse World)
I couldn't stand anymore.
My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed against the cold ground.
My stomach had stopped growling.
That was worse.
Much worse.
"…No…"
My voice trembled.
"…not like this…"
I had been torn apart by zombies.
I had felt my flesh being eaten.
But this—
This slow, creeping death…
This hollowing out from the inside…
It was worse.
Every second stretched longer than the last.
Every heartbeat felt like it might be the final one.
"…I'm… dying…"
Day 6 — 02:17 AM
And then—
A thought.
Small.
Fragile.
But sharp.
The box.
My eyes widened.
"…The box…"
"If I can store things…"
My breath quickened.
"…then can I send them?"
Day 6 — 02:40 AM (Normal World)
I woke up with a gasp.
Didn't waste a second.
Kitchen.
Fridge.
Storage.
Everything.
Bread.
Biscuits.
Cookies.
Jam.
Rice.
Flour.
Water bottles.
Anything I could grab.
One by one—
They vanished in my hands.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" my sister shouted.
"Nothing!" I snapped.
Too fast.
Too desperate.
My hands trembled as I grabbed the last bottle.
"…Please work."
I swallowed a sleeping pill.
Dry.
No water.
No hesitation.
And lay down.
Day 6 — ?? (Apocalypse World)
I woke up—
Gasping.
Shaking.
Barely conscious.
"…Food…"
My hand trembled in the air.
I focused.
Not on the hunger.
Not on the pain.
On the box.
"Give it… back…"
And—
It appeared.
Bread.
Water.
Real.
Solid.
Alive.
For one second—
I just stared.
"…It worked."
And then—
I broke.
I lunged at the food like a starving animal.
No—
Worse.
I didn't chew properly.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't think.
I tore into the bread.
Drank water so fast it spilled down my chin.
My teeth bit into my own lips—
I tasted blood.
Didn't stop.
Didn't care.
I ate everything.
Everything.
Enough for ten people.
Gone.
Gone in minutes.
Silence
My chest rose and fell.
Slowly.
Heavily.
"…I…"
My hands trembled.
My body felt heavy.
Full.
Alive.
"I…"
A laugh escaped me.
Weak.
Broken.
Then louder.
"I survived…"
Louder.
"I SURVIVED."
And then—
I couldn't stop.
I laughed.
Loud.
Wild.
Uncontrolled.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!"
The empty streets echoed with it.
A broken, manic sound.
Half relief.
Half madness.
"I'M ALIVE!"
Again.
And again.
And again.
"I'M ALIVE!"
Because in that moment—
That single moment—
I understood something terrifying.
This wasn't over.
This wasn't luck.
This wasn't a second chance.
This—
Was survival.
And I had just learned my first rule.
.........................
Before the two worlds
03:17 PM
I shouldn't have turned into that alley.
The thought came too late.
My shoes slipped against broken concrete as I ran, breath tearing out of my chest in ragged bursts. Every inhale tasted like rust and rot
Behind me—
They were still coming.
Not running.
Not rushing.
Just… coming.
Slow. Relentless. Inevitable.
"Why… why won't you just—"
My voice broke mid-sentence.
Because they don't stop.
They never stop.
03:18 PM
Dead end.
A wall.
A rusted dumpster.
A pile of black garbage bags leaking something that moved.
I turned around slowly.
"…Right."
A laugh escaped me. Dry. Hollow.
"So this is it."
The horde filled the alley entrance now—twisted faces, sunken eyes, mouths hanging open like they'd forgotten what being human felt like.
One of them dragged its leg.
Another had no jaw.
And yet—
They moved toward me.
Together.
03:18:27 PM
My hand moved before my brain did.
The dumpster lid screeched as I ripped it off and raised it in front of me.
A shield.
A stupid, desperate shield.
"…Captain America, huh?" I muttered under my breath, a cracked smile forming.
"If I die… at least let me die cool."
03:19 PM
The first one lunged.
CLANG!
The impact shot up my arms, nearly breaking my grip.
"BACK OFF!"
I slammed the lid forward again, knocking it down. Another came from the side—I kicked it, felt something snap under my shoe.
Didn't matter.
They didn't feel pain.
03:20 PM
Time stopped making sense.
Seconds stretched.
Every movement became instinct.
Hit. Block. Push. Run out of space. Hit again.
A broken pipe in my hand. A shard of glass. My own fists.
"I'm still alive," I whispered between breaths.
"I'm still—"
A hand grabbed my shoulder.
Another my leg.
03:21 PM
They overwhelmed me.
Bodies piled in.
Hands clawed.
Teeth snapped.
Pain—
White.
Blinding.
All-consuming.
"AHHH—!"
They tore into me like starving animals.
And somewhere between the screams and the tearing flesh—
Something inside me snapped.
"If I'm dying…"
My voice turned quiet.
Cold.
"…then I'm not dying alone."
I bit back.
Hard.
My teeth sank into rotten flesh, tearing, ripping like I was one of them now. My hands moved without thought—grabbing, smashing, gouging eyes that didn't blink.
I became something else.
Something feral.
Something desperate.
03:21:46 PM
Then—
Something… different.
My teeth hit something solid.
Not bone.
Not flesh.
Something… hidden.
"…What—?"
Before I could pull away—
It melted.
It melted.
The substance dissolved on my tongue like burning metal turning into liquid light.
And then—
Everything exploded.
03:21:50 PM
Electricity surged through my veins.
Not pain.
Not exactly.
It was like my body was being rewritten from the inside.
My vision fractured.
Sound stretched.
Reality… slipped.
"…what… is… happening…"
My voice didn't sound like mine anymore.
Then—
Silence.
??? — The Box
I was standing.
But not in the alley.
Not anywhere I recognized.
A cube.
Perfect.
Endless.
Five meters in every direction.
Its walls… weren't walls.
They were space.
Actual space.
Dark. Infinite. Silent.
Tiny stars flickered across the surface like they were alive.
"…Am I dead?"
My voice echoed—but the echo didn't return the same.
It came back… distorted.
As if something was listening.
I took a step forward.
The ground felt real.
Too real.
"Hello?"
Nothing answered.
But something shifted.
Not outside.
Inside me.
Then—
Darkness swallowed everything.
06:42 AM — The Morning That Shouldn't Exist
I woke up gasping.
My ceiling.
My bed.
My room.
"…No."
I sat up too fast, nearly falling over.
"No no no no—"
I ran outside.
The street was clean.
No blood.
No bodies.
No silence filled with death.
Just—
Morning.
Normal.
Peaceful.
"Mom?" My voice trembled.
She turned from the kitchen.
"Why are you shouting so early?"
I froze.
"…You're alive."
She frowned. "Of course I'm alive. Did you hit your head?"
I laughed.
Then I cried.
Then I laughed again.
Throughout the Day — Something Is Wrong
I saw my sister.
Annoying. Loud. Alive.
I saw my school.
Normal. Boring. Safe.
I saw…
Her.
My crush.
She smiled at me like nothing had ever happened.
"…Hey," she said.
"Hey…" I replied, staring a second too long.
Then—
My bully.
He shoved past me in the hallway.
"Watch it."
I didn't react.
Didn't fight back.
Didn't care.
Because all I could think was—
You're alive too.
11:58 PM — False Peace
I lay in bed.
Staring at the ceiling.
"…It was a dream."
It had to be.
There was no other explanation.
Right?
"…Right?"
I closed my eyes.
For the first time in what felt like forever—
I felt safe.
??:?? — The Return
I woke up—
Cold.
Wet.
Rotten smell filling my lungs.
The dumpster.
I shot up.
"…No."
My body—
Perfect.
No wounds.
No pain.
No bite marks.
"…That wasn't a dream."
And then—
I felt it.
The cube.
Not outside.
Inside my mind.
Silent.
Waiting.
04:12 AM — The First Experiment
Back in my hideout.
Hands shaking.
Mind racing.
"A box…" I whispered.
"What do you do with a box?"
Silence.
Then—
A thought.
Simple.
Obvious.
"You put things in it."
I picked up a piece of bread.
Stared at it.
Focused.
"Go."
It vanished.
Gone.
My breath hitched.
"…Holy…"
I looked around.
Then back at my empty hand.
"…I have a space… inside me."
And for the first time since the apocalypse—
I smiled.