Chapter 1: The Room With No Exit
By Obsidian_Pen
I woke up in a room with no doors.
The walls were white. Too white. Not the clean, peaceful kind of white. It was the kind that hurts your eyes, the kind that makes you feel like something is... wrong.
There was no sound except for my own breath. My pulse echoed inside my skull like a drum in an empty hall. I sat up slowly, every muscle stiff, as if I hadn't moved in days. Or weeks.
My name was written on the walls. Over and over again.
ADAM SALEH
Scrawled in black ink, hundreds of times—different handwriting. Some neat, some shaky. Some looked like a child's. Others looked... familiar.
I looked down. My hands were stained with ink.
I had written them.
But I didn't remember doing it.
There was a table in the center of the room. A small notebook sat on top of it. Its leather cover was worn out, like it had been handled a thousand times. I picked it up.
"Day 23," it said.
I flipped through the pages. They were all written in my handwriting. Notes. Scribbles. Diagrams. Paranoia. Names of people I didn't recognize. Warnings.
> "Don't trust the man in the mirror."
"They're listening through the lights."
"Memory is a lie you told yourself."
I kept reading until I found something that stopped me cold.
> "If you're reading this again, Adam... it means you forgot. Again."
"You'll wake up in this room until you find the truth."
"She's not dead. But you are."
I dropped the notebook.
What the hell was happening?
Then I saw it.
A mirror on the wall. The only thing not white. Black frame. Tinted glass. I stood up slowly, legs trembling, and walked toward it.
My reflection didn't move.
I froze.
He was staring at me… but he wasn't me.
He smiled.
And whispered:
> "You're not ready yet."
Drawer?
I turned. The table. It had a small drawer I hadn't noticed before. I crouched down and pulled it open.
Inside was a key.
Old. Rusted. Heavy. It didn't make sense—there were no doors.
Then I looked at the mirror again.
And saw a keyhole in the corner of the frame.
No way.
I walked to it, hands trembling, and slid the key in. It fit perfectly. With a click, the mirror shifted slightly outward—like a door.
Behind it… darkness.
Pure black.
No sound. No end.
I stared into it, heart racing, unsure what lay beyond.
Then the notebook flipped one last time.
"Go through. Time's running out."
I took a deep breath, clenched my fists, and stepped into the void.
Chapter 2: The Other Side
Silence.
Cold.
A weight pressed against my chest like the darkness itself had form.
I opened my eyes.
Not the void. Not my world either.
A forest. But not one I recognized. Trees twisted in impossible angles, leaves pulsing faintly with light like they were breathing. The sky above was a deep, violet hue, swirling slowly like ink in water.
"What is this place…?"
The notebook was gone.
But its final words still echoed in my head:
"Go through. Time's running out."
I took a cautious step forward, every branch crunching underfoot too loudly, like the place wasn't meant to be disturbed.
Then, a sound.
Low, guttural breathing.
I froze.
Something—someone—was watching.
Between two trees stood a figure. Tall. Cloaked. Face hidden under a hood.
"Welcome," it said, voice like wind scraping against glass. "You've crossed the veil."
I took a step back. "Who are you?"
It didn't answer. Instead, it pointed behind me.
I turned.
The portal was gone.
Only forest now.
Only him.
"You are part of this story now," the figure whispered. "And stories... always demand a price."