Adrian didn't turn around.
He couldn't.
Every instinct screamed at him to run, to move, to do something but his body refused to obey. It was as if the air itself had thickened, pressing against him, holding him in place.
Behind him, the presence lingered.
Close.
Too close.
He could feel it like a shadow leaning over his shoulder, like breath that wasn't there brushing against the back of his neck.
"You hear it now, don't you?" the voice whispered.
Adrian's throat tightened.
It was his voice.
Not similar.
Not close.
Exact.
Same tone. Same depth. Same subtle rasp at the end of each word.
"I'm not turning around," Adrian said, forcing the words out.
A soft chuckle followed.
"You already have."
Adrian's heart slammed against his ribs.
Slowly
Against his will
His eyes drifted downward.
To the puddle at his feet.
The reflection stared back.
But this time
It wasn't mimicking him.
It was ahead of him.
Smiling.
Breathing.
Alive in a way that felt wrong.
And behind the reflection
Another figure stood.
Right where Adrian knew nothing should be.
The reflection spoke first.
"You're starting to remember."
Adrian clenched his fists.
"I don't remember anything."
The reflection tilted its head.
"That's the problem."
A sudden rush of wind tore through the street
And everything snapped.
The frozen tension shattered.
Adrian spun around
But there was nothing there.
No figure.
No presence.
Just the empty street and the sound of rain crashing down again.
He staggered back, breathing hard.
"No… no, no…"
He looked around wildly.
Gone.
All of it.
As if it had never been there.
But the body
The body was still there.
Lying exactly where it had been.
His body.
Adrian turned slowly toward it.
This time, something felt different.
Before, it had been shock.
Denial.
Now
It was recognition.
Not of the sight.
But of the feeling.
Like déjà vu—but deeper.
Darker.
As if his mind had brushed against this exact moment before.
"You've been here," he whispered.
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
And the moment he said them
Something shifted.
Not outside.
Inside.
A flicker.
A memory
But not fully formed.
Just a fragment.
Rain.
A scream.
A flash of light.
And then
Darkness.
Adrian staggered slightly, grabbing his head.
"What… was that?"
The memory slipped away before he could grasp it.
Gone.
Like it had never existed.
His breathing grew uneven.
"No. No, I'm not losing it."
But even as he said it
He wasn't sure anymore.
He forced himself to focus.
Think.
This was still a case.
A situation.
Something that could be solved.
Right?
He looked at the body again.
If this was happening
If he was somehow stuck in something repeating
Then this body mattered.
It wasn't just a warning.
It was evidence.
Slowly, cautiously, he approached again.
This time, he paid attention.
Every detail.
The position.
The angle.
The expression.
Something caught his eye.
A mark.
On the wrist.
Adrian frowned and knelt down.
It was faint—but there.
A number.
Carved.
Not deep—but deliberate.
27
Adrian's breath hitched.
"That wasn't there before…"
Or had it been?
He couldn't remember.
His mind felt… unstable.
Like pieces were shifting.
He reached out and touched the mark.
Cold.
But not like a dead body.
Colder.
Like something preserved.
Unnatural.
Suddenly—
The body's hand twitched.
Adrian jerked back violently.
"No—"
The fingers moved again.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And then—
The eyes snapped open.
Adrian stumbled backward, falling onto the wet pavement.
The version of himself on the ground stared up at him.
Not blinking.
Not breathing.
Just… staring.
Its lips parted.
And when it spoke—
The voice didn't match the face.
"You're not supposed to see this yet."
Adrian's pulse exploded.
"What are you?!"
The body didn't move.
Didn't sit up.
Didn't breathe.
Only the mouth moved.
"You keep breaking it."
"Breaking what?!"
"The order."
The words echoed unnaturally, as if more than one voice spoke at once.
Adrian scrambled to his feet.
"This isn't real—"
"It is," the body interrupted. "That's why you keep dying."
The words hit harder than anything else.
Adrian's mind raced.
"Then tell me how to stop it!"
For the first time—
The body smiled.
A slow, unnatural stretch of lips.
"You already know."
"I don't!"
"You did."
The rain intensified suddenly, pounding harder than before.
The streetlights flickered violently.
Adrian's vision blurred—
And then—
The body was gone.
Just—
Gone.
No movement.
No transition.
One second it was there—
The next—
Empty pavement.
Adrian stared at the spot, frozen.
"No… no…"
His breathing became ragged.
This was beyond anything logical.
Beyond anything explainable.
And yet—
There was a pattern.
There had to be.
The number.
The file.
The repeated death.
"You keep breaking it…"
The words echoed in his mind.
"What order?" Adrian whispered.
And then—
Another memory flickered.
Stronger this time.
Clearer.
A room.
Dimly lit.
Stacks of files.
Dozens of them.
Each labeled the same way.
Case File: 27.
Adrian's eyes widened.
"No…"
He stumbled back toward his car.
He needed to get out of here.
Needed to think.
Needed—
A sound cut through the rain.
Not footsteps.
Not movement.
A click.
Adrian froze.
Slowly—
He turned his head toward the sound.
His car.
The driver's side door—
Was open.
Adrian's breath caught.
"I closed that…"
He knew he had.
He remembered it.
Didn't he?
A faint glow came from inside.
The dashboard light.
Illuminating the interior just enough.
And then—
He saw it.
Something was sitting in the passenger seat.
A file.
Another one.
Thicker.
Darker.
Waiting.
Adrian hesitated.
Every instinct told him not to go near it.
But something stronger—
Pulled him forward.
Step by step.
He reached the car.
The rain seemed quieter here.
Muted.
Like the world was holding its breath again.
He leaned in slightly.
The file was open.
Already open.
As if it had been waiting for him to read it.
At the top of the page—
A title.
CASE FILE: 28
Adrian's heart dropped.
"No…"
His hand trembled as he flipped the page.
A photograph.
A new scene.
A different location.
And in the center—
A body.
He didn't need to look closely.
He already knew.
But he looked anyway.
And when he did—
His stomach twisted.
Because this time—
The face wasn't his.
It was someone else.
Someone he hadn't seen before.
But something about them—
Felt familiar.
Too familiar.
And at the bottom of the page—
Written in the same red ink—
"You failed again."
Adrian staggered back.
The rain roared louder.
And somewhere in the distance—
A scream echoed.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Cut off too quickly.
Adrian's head snapped toward the sound.
His pulse surged.
Because deep down
He knew.
That scream
Belonged to the person in the file.
And it had just happened.