The lunch bell chimed, but Aurex barely noticed. He sat alone in his usual corner, pushing around the same bland meal he'd been eating for what felt like an eternity. He certainly didn't expect Torren, the boy from yesterday, to appear, let alone slide into the seat beside him.
"Mind if I join?" Torren asked, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Aurex blinked, caught off guard. "I thought you weren't going to talk much."
"We never properly introduced ourselves," Torren said with a faint smile. "What's your name?"
"Aurex. Yours?"
"Call me Torren," he replied. "Nice to meet you, Aurex. We're in this together now. We've got to help each other out."
"Yeah," Aurex nodded, a hint of something he hadn't felt in days stirring within him. "I agree."
Aurex leaned in, lowering his voice. "Let me ask you, when did things start to feel… off? Was it after you woke up and saw that wound on your body?"
Torren paused, his gaze distant. "Yes. That was the moment. Everything felt normal before that. Like nothing was wrong. Then it all shifted."
"Same here," Aurex whispered. "Before that day, this world looked fine to me, like I was part of it. Then suddenly, I wasn't. I saw it from the outside. That cut changed everything."
He hesitated, then pressed on. "Do you think it's possible to change them? My family, I mean."
Torren let out a long, slow breath. "You have to prepare yourself for the worst."
"What do you mean?" Aurex's stomach twisted.
"I mean… you can try," Torren said, his voice laced with a strange weariness. "But don't expect too much. My family's like yours. Strange, quiet, perfect smiles, but dead behind the eyes. You'll know when it's time. Just… don't hope too hard."
Aurex frowned. "You keep saying things like that, but you're never specific."
"Because I don't know how much I'm allowed to say," Torren answered, his eyes flicking away. "Some things, if you hear them too soon, they eat at you. You have to see them for yourself."
The rest of lunch passed in an uncomfortable silence. Aurex didn't push him; he could tell Torren had already shared more than he intended.
That night, the familiar routine reasserted itself. After dinner, after the hollow warmth and polite chatter, Aurex retreated to his room and locked the door. The bells chimed at 6 p.m.,three slow, even tolls.
He sat at his desk, a pen in hand, and began to write. Every detail of the day, his conversation with Torren, the bland food, the subtle cracks in the facade,he meticulously documented it all. He tried to reason with himself, to find a logical thread in the unraveling tapestry of his life.
Why him? Why had he woken up? If everyone else was caught in this horrifying loop, what made him different? He'd followed the routine like the rest, laughed, smiled, obeyed. Why had he broken free?
He stood and walked to the corner of his room where the sealed window sat. His family had nailed it shut months ago, but a small crack remained, just wide enough to peer through.
He pressed his eye to the gap.
Just like the night before, he saw them. Wandering the house, their movements mirroring yesterday's precisely. Timed. Patterned. Perfect. Around 7 p.m., they descended the stairs. By 8, his father, sister, and brother stepped outside, but his mother didn't. Again.
He made a mental note. She always stayed inside.
He watched for hours, shifting between the peephole and the window. It had become his own grim routine. At 10 p.m., mentally exhausted, he finally lay down. He'd intended to stay awake, to resist the pull, but sleep swallowed him instantly.
The bells woke him at 6 a.m.
Again.
This time, though, his mind was sharp, focused. Something was different. He remembered his plan: today, he would investigate his mother.
He slipped out of bed and crept silently down the hallway. The old house creaked under his weight, but he moved slowly, deliberately. His heart pounded louder than his soft footsteps.
He reached the kitchen door and peered through the narrow slit.
His mother stood at the stove, humming quietly. Across the room, his father sat at the table, sipping coffee. His sister and brother were already there, eating. Calm. Smiling.
Aurex stared, his eyes wide.
It was six a.m.
When did they sleep? When did they wake up? How long had they been sitting there? How had his mother cooked an entire meal already?
He backed away quietly, his mind reeling, and returned to his room. He lay in bed, the questions swirling. When the usual call came for breakfast, he followed it.
They were still there. His father still sipping his coffee. Nothing had moved.
He took his seat, trying to keep his hands from trembling. After a long moment, he turned to his little brother. "You always look tired in the morning," Aurex said carefully, testing the waters. "But today you seem… awake."
His brother looked at him, his smile soft and unchanging. "I'm the same as usual."
Aurex couldn't respond. He simply stared down at his plate, his heart frozen in his chest.
The people in this house,his family wore his family's faces. They said the same things. Moved the same way. Smiled with the same lips.
But he was starting to believe something truly terrible.
The people he loved might be gone.
And whatever had taken their place… didn't sleep.