Splintered reality

The room seemed to pulse with a life of its own, the walls breathing in time with Elena’s erratic heartbeat. She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. The child standing in front of her, her own younger self, swayed slightly, her head tilted at an unnatural angle.

“Elena, it’s time to play,” the little girl repeated, her voice dripping with false sweetness. Her lips stretched into a grin that was too wide, the skin pulling tightly across her cheeks.

Elena took a step back, her hand trembling as she clutched the doll version of herself. “You’re not real,” she whispered, shaking her head as if she could dislodge the image from her mind. “This isn’t happening. You’re just a—”

“Just a memory?” The child interrupted, giggling softly. “Or maybe I’m a warning.” She took a step forward, and Elena noticed something horrible—the little girl’s shadow didn’t match her movements. It writhed and twisted on the floor, a dark stain that seemed to grow larger, more menacing, with each passing second.

Elena turned her gaze away, trying to focus on anything else. Her eyes landed on the row of dolls still lying on the bed. The one of Mark, with its little baseball cap, had shifted. It now faced her, its button eyes gleaming with a sinister light. Another doll twitched, then another, their tiny limbs jerking as if they were struggling to break free.

A wave of nausea rolled over her. The room tilted, the floor bending and stretching as if she were standing on a sheet of rubber. She forced herself to look back at the child—at herself.

“What do you want?” Elena demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.

The child giggled again, a sound like breaking glass. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what you lost.” She leaned in closer, and Elena could feel the icy cold radiating off of her. “Do you remember the day they disappeared? Do you remember what you did?”

Elena’s chest tightened. She had spent years trying to forget, burying those memories under layers of denial and guilt. But now, in this warped place, the memories began to unravel, pulling her back into the past.

“No,” she whispered, backing away until her shoulders hit the wall. “I didn’t do anything. I was just—”

“Watching.” The child’s eyes darkened, turning into twin pools of inky blackness. “You were always just watching.”

The words sliced through her, the accusation laced with venom. Images flashed before Elena’s eyes: Amy’s laughter as they played tag in the woods, Mark’s triumphant grin after hitting a home run during one of their impromptu baseball games, Joshua’s quiet smile as he scribbled in his notebook, always making up stories. And then—the day everything changed.

They had been in the treehouse, all four of them. There had been an argument—about what, she couldn’t remember. But she remembered the shouting, the way Amy’s face had flushed with anger, the way Mark had pushed her, hard. Elena had stood at the edge of it all, frozen, unable to move or speak. The next thing she knew, Amy had stumbled backward, the old wooden railing giving way—

“No,” Elena said again, squeezing her eyes shut as if that could block out the flood of memories. “It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t—”

“You were the only one left.” The child’s voice was softer now, almost sympathetic. “You could have saved them. You could have called for help. But you ran away.”

Elena’s breath hitched. She had run. After the accident, she had fled down the rope ladder, leaving her friends behind. She had been in shock, paralyzed by fear. By the time she returned with the adults, Amy, Mark, and Joshua were gone. Vanished without a trace. The town had searched for days, but no bodies were ever found.

The guilt had consumed her for years, gnawing at her sanity. She had been the last person to see them alive, but she hadn’t been able to tell anyone what had really happened. Not even herself.

“What do you want me to say?” Elena choked out. “That I’m sorry? That I wish I could go back and change it all?”

The little girl’s head tilted further, the smile vanishing from her face. “It’s too late for apologies.” She took a step closer, her shadow spreading across the room like spilled ink. “But it’s not too late to join us.”

Elena shook her head violently. “No. No, I’m not—”

The child’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with an iron grip. Elena gasped as pain lanced through her arm, the cold seeping deep into her bones. She tried to pull away, but the child’s strength was inhuman.

“You’ve already been here for so long,” the girl whispered, her breath icy against Elena’s skin. “Why keep fighting? You belong with us.”

The words seemed to vibrate in the air, resonating in Elena’s skull. For a moment, everything around her blurred—the walls melting, the dolls dissolving into shadows. The little girl’s eyes widened, the darkness within them expanding, pulling Elena in.

And then she heard it.

A voice. Low and distant, calling her name.

“Elena…”

She blinked, the world snapping back into focus. The child’s grip loosened, and she stumbled backward, clutching her wrist. The doll fell from her hand, landing on the floor with a soft thud. The little girl’s form flickered, like a weak signal on an old television set.

“Elena, get out of there!”

The voice was real, urgent. She spun around, searching for its source, but the room was empty. Empty, except for the little girl—her echo—who was staring at her with a look of pure hatred.

“Don’t listen to them,” the child hissed, her voice warping, becoming deep and guttural. “You’ll never leave. You’re mine.”

“Elena!”

The voice was closer now, and she realized with a start that it was coming from outside the house. With a burst of adrenaline, she turned and ran. She heard the child scream behind her, a sound of rage and despair, but she didn’t look back. She flew down the stairs, the walls closing in around her, the floor shifting and buckling beneath her feet.

She burst through the front door and into the street, gasping for breath. The town outside was no longer silent. The wind howled through the empty buildings, carrying with it a chorus of whispers, the same voices that had haunted her dreams for years.

“Elena! Over here!”

She spun around and saw a figure standing at the edge of the street. A man, his face hidden by the shadows of a hooded jacket. She hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to stay away.

“Who are you?” she shouted, her voice cracking.

The man stepped forward, his features coming into view. Elena’s heart stuttered. It couldn’t be.

“Joshua?” she breathed.

He nodded slowly, his eyes sad and filled with an emotion she couldn’t place. “It’s me, Elena. We don’t have much time. You have to leave, now.”

Elena shook her head, backing away. “No, you’re not real. You can’t be—”

“Listen to me!” he shouted, his voice breaking through her panic. “The town is awake. It’s feeding off your memories, your guilt. If you don’t leave now, it will trap you here forever.”

She stared at him, the world spinning around her. Joshua looked just as he had the day he disappeared—same unruly hair, same piercing blue eyes. But there was something else there, something dark and hollow lurking behind his gaze.

“Please,” he whispered, holding out his hand. “Trust me. This is your last chance.”

Elena’s mind reeled. Nothing made sense. Was she going insane? Was any of this even real? But as she glanced back at the house, at the darkness spilling out from the doorway like a living thing, she knew one thing for certain: staying here meant death—or something worse.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out and took Joshua’s hand.

A jolt of cold shot through her, and the world around them seemed to bend, the buildings warping and melting like wax in a fire. Joshua pulled her close, his grip the only solid thing in the chaos.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered urgently. “And whatever you do—don’t let go.”

Elena obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut as the wind roared around them, carrying with it the screams of the lost. The ground shifted beneath her feet, the world spinning faster and faster until she felt like she was being torn apart.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the chaos stopped. The wind died down, the air grew still. Elena opened her eyes slowly, her heart hammering in her chest.

They were no longer in Wescroft.

They stood in a clearing at the edge of the woods, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. The town lay behind them, a dark smudge on the horizon. She let out a shaky breath, her legs threatening to give out beneath her.

Joshua released her hand, stepping back. “You’re safe now. For a little while, at least.”

Elena turned to face him, confusion and fear warring within her. “What—what just happened? What are you?”

Joshua’s expression was unreadable. “I’m just a memory, Elena. Like everyone else here.” He glanced back at the town, his eyes shadowed. “But I can still help you. If you’re willing to face the truth.”

“The truth?” she whispered, a fresh wave of dread washing over her.

“Yes,” he said softly. “About what really happened. And why you can’t leave.”

Elena shivered, her gaze drifting back to the cursed town that had been waiting for her all these years.

“What do I have to do?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

Joshua’s smile was sad and full of regret.

“You have to go back.”

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