The trees were too still.
Kye crouched behind a crooked trunk, its bark cold and moist against his shoulder. Mist slid over the forest floor like a living thing, curling between roots and pooling where the ground dipped. Everything was quiet—no wind, no insects, not even birds. Just the faint tick of his breath catching and the ache in his legs.
He hadn't stopped running since the last ambush. Since...
No. Don't think about that.
He pressed his knuckles into his temple, grounding himself. If he let the memory surface—the look in Jula's eyes before she dropped the knife—he'd freeze again. And freezing was death here.
A flicker of light caught his eye through the fog. Orange. Flickering.
A fire.
He didn't trust it. But hunger gnawed at him now, more concept than sensation. He hadn't eaten in days, or minutes, or both. This world bent time like it bent the truth.
Still crouched, Kye crept forward. Each step was silent on the damp ground, but he imagined footsteps behind him. Always behind. The kind you couldn't prove.
As the fire came into view, shapes took form around it—four figures huddled close, one standing, arms crossed, scanning the darkness. A lookout.
Kye's breath caught again. They were classmates.
"Is that... Kye?" one of them called softly.
He almost bolted. Instead, he stepped into the light slowly, hands raised.
The lookout relaxed. A girl with short hair and a gash across her temple—Mila, from his chemistry group.
"You look like death," she muttered.
"You look like betrayal," Kye thought, but didn't say it. Not yet.
---
The fire didn't warm him. It only cast shadows that moved too much, like they were acting out a separate scene just behind his back.
There were four others: Mila, quiet-eyed Tamo, jittery Bren, and Leila—someone Kye had crushed on once, in a life that felt completely detached from this one. She was wrapped in a filthy blanket, knees pulled to her chest, eyes empty.
"They hunt in waves," Mila explained. "Always after the fire dies down. We light it anyway."
"Why?"
"Because being cold and afraid feels worse than being afraid and warm."
Kye almost smiled. But something about the rhythm of the flames felt… rehearsed.
Leila's voice broke the silence. "Have you seen the sky?"
Kye looked up instinctively. Just mist and black tree branches.
"There is no sky," she whispered. "Only ceiling."
He didn't respond.
---
Later, after some stale crackers passed as food, he sat apart from the group, fingers tracing patterns in the dirt. Tamo joined him quietly, setting a rock between them.
"Do you feel it too?" Tamo asked.
"What?"
"The loop. Like we're not progressing. Just... rerunning."
Kye tensed. "You think we're in a loop?"
"I think the forest is a throat, and we're stuck in it. Sooner or later, it'll swallow."
Before Kye could answer, a sound split the stillness.
Not a growl. Not a footstep.
A high, whining tone, like a distant scream slowed into a single note.
Bren stood first. "It's happening again."
Mila pulled a rusted blade from her coat. "Keep low. Don't move unless they see you."
Leila remained seated.
Kye rose slowly, heartbeat loud in his ears.
The sound stopped.
Too late.
Flames whooshed upward in a sudden gust—and figures emerged from the fog.
---
They weren't classmates.
Not anymore.
Skin stretched too tightly. Teeth visible even when mouths were closed. One had a neck that bent backward as it walked.
The group scattered.
Kye ran. Not toward safety. Just away. Away from the flicker of the fire as it was extinguished. Away from the way Leila whispered his name like it was already a goodbye.
He darted between trees, slid down an embankment, hit the forest floor hard. Pain blossomed in his ribs.
Get up. Get up!
But as he tried to move, a hand caught his arm.
It was Mila.
"They're not real," she hissed. "They're not real. You have to remember that."
"What?"
She pressed something into his hand—a piece of cloth. His own shirt, torn from the fight before. Burnt edges.
"Prove to yourself it happened. Or this place will do it for you."
Before he could ask more, a shape loomed behind her. Fast. Silent.
Mila turned too slow.
She screamed once.
Then silence.
Kye ran again, sob choking in his throat.
---
He didn't know how long he ran. Eventually, the trees parted—and he stumbled into a ravine. Steep cliffs on both sides. No easy way down.
A single option.
Jump.
A distant scream echoed—too familiar.
Kye clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and leapt.
---
He fell into darkness.
The world slowed.
Light twisted.
The sound pulled thin.
And for just a moment, Kye swore he heard a voice—not a scream, not a threat. A whisper.
"You're almost there."
---
He landed on his shoulder.
Pain lanced through his chest, blooming hot across his collarbone. For a long, heavy moment, Kye just lay there in the dark.
Breathing.
Listening.
Nothing moved.
No echoes. No mist. No forest.
Just the soft crunch of grit beneath him and the faint crackle of some broken bone trying to whisper its complaint.
He rolled over slowly, groaning. His surroundings had changed—utterly. No more trees. No more fog.
The walls were closed now. Stone. Damp. Carved with marks.
Not natural.
He blinked hard, adjusting to the dim glow that hung in the air like dust motes suspended in syrup. There was no visible light source. Just that unnatural glow, like dying embers, had been smeared across the cave ceiling.
"A cave."
The word didn't help.
He sat up, forcing his shoulder into position with a grimace, then looked around.
There were scratches in the walls. Not random gouges—intentional. Some of them were names. Dozens. Hundreds. All scratched with trembling hands, faded by time, or something worse.
He moved closer.
AYANDA, T.M.
LOUIS B. // LAST REAL THOUGHT: "I'm still dreaming."
KYE.
He froze.
His name was there. Already.
It shimmered faintly, like ink on skin before a tattoo sets.
"I didn't write that."
A shaky breath.
"...Did I?"
He staggered back, and the cave shifted. Just slightly. The names pulsed, stretched. Some vanished, others appeared mid-lettering.
Like the wall was listening.
---
He turned and walked deeper.
The silence became weighted. Like it had mass. Every step felt slower, the air clinging to his skin. The walls narrowed. Soon, the path was no wider than his shoulders.
But something pulled him forward. Not physically. Something... internal.
The deeper he went, the more real his thoughts became. Whispered doubts began echoing.
"They were never your friends."
"You should've fought back sooner."
"You hesitated. Mila died."
His jaw clenched.
"Shut up."
Another voice replied. His own, distorted.
"You brought this on yourself."
The sound wasn't in his head anymore.
It was coming from ahead.
---
Kye emerged into a larger chamber.
In the center stood a figure, back turned, facing the stone wall. Tall, thin, trembling. The same build as—
Him.
The figure turned.
Same face. Same scars. Same torn shirt. But the eyes were hollow. Reflective. Like shards of mirror.
"Who are you?" Kye asked, though he already knew.
The reflection smiled.
"You. Without lies."
---
It charged.
Kye barely dodged, the swing missing his face by inches. He staggered, slammed into the wall, scrambled for footing.
His double moved inhumanly—flickering between steps like frames missing from a reel.
Kye grabbed a rock, swung—
The mirror-Kye caught it.
"You're not brave. You're desperate."
Another blow—this one landed. Kye hit the ground hard, pain flashing white behind his eyes.
"You let her die."
Kye screamed and lunged—tackling the reflection. They rolled, fists flying, both gasping.
He didn't care about form. He hit until his knuckles split. Until the reflection coughed a laugh that sounded like glass shattering.
"You're learning."
Then the thing stopped moving.
And dissolved.
Into sand.
---
Kye sat there, panting, bleeding. The sand of his other self trickled between his fingers.
In the stillness, something clicked in his mind.
"This place feeds on belief. On guilt."
He looked down at his bleeding hands. "And maybe... it fears self-awareness."
---
He stood slowly.
The cave behind him began to rumble—stones falling, walls closing.
But ahead, a faint light—real sunlight, this time—seeped through a crack.
Kye squeezed through.
---
He emerged into something new.
A concrete ledge. Tall buildings in the distance. Faded billboards. A ruined overpass tangled in vines.
A city.
But...
The skyline flickered. Just for a moment. A ripple, like a bad render.
Then it solidified.
He walked forward, steps cautious, breath unsteady. The silence of the forest was gone—but the city's silence was heavier. No birds. No vehicles. No humans.
Only the wind whispering through broken glass.
Kye looked up.
In the glass of a half-collapsed skyscraper, he saw his reflection.
It smiled back.
---