The Stranger in the Loop

Cael woke again to the same morning sun falling in golden rays through his window. He sat up. Same racing thoughts, but something was off. The room is charged with electric tension that sets the skin crawling. He turned his head toward the desk and saw the diary lying unwrapped and open.

But today, a strange feeling tugged at him before he even touched the book. He stood up slowly, moving toward the window.

There was someone outside.

A man leaned casually against the lamppost across the street, his back straight, his gaze fixed upward—directly at Cael's window. He was tall, strikingly handsome, with the kind of sharp jawline and bright eyes that belonged to some idealistic hero. His clothes were simple but pristine. Yet something about him felt too out of place, like he didn't belong in this ordinary street.

Cael's heart began to race. This had never happened before. The day always played out the same—until now.

Without thinking, he threw on his clothes and bolted out of his room, skipping his mother's usual greeting and ignoring his sister's complaint about school. He flew out the front door, determined to reach the stranger who had broken the routine.

As he neared the man, a deep sense of unease mixed with curiosity. The stranger stood tall and serene, watching Cael approach with an amused smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You're not supposed to be here," Cael blurted out, his voice shakier than he intended.

The stranger's smile widened, showing perfect, gleaming teeth. "Neither are you."

The response hit Cael like a splash of cold water. His breath caught in his throat. The man's words, so casually spoken, confirmed what Cael had feared—this loop, this repetition wasn't just in his head. And this stranger knew it.

"Who are you?" Cael demanded, his voice barely holding back his desperation.

The man chuckled softly, a sound that might have been charming under different circumstances. "That's a complicated question, don't you think?" He pushed off the lamppost and took a step closer, his eyes locking onto Cael's. "But I suppose you should be asking, why are you here?"

Cael's hands tightened into fists. He could feel the diary, heavy in his pocket, like a lifeline he wasn't ready to reveal just yet. His pulse thudded in his ears, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

"Have you been through this? Do you know why I'm stuck?"

The stranger's eyes flicked down at Cael's pocket, and across his face went something unmistakable for just a heartbeat. Then he smiled again—that perfect, unsettling smile. "Let's just say… I just know a bit more than you do. But it's not my job to free you. I don't have the power to do so".

"Then why are you here?" Cael snapped, frustration boiling over into anger. "Why do I keep dying? Why does everything reset?"

His face softened, almost pitied, but his eyes were just that fraction too sharp, too calculating. "You're stuck because you're supposed to be. You're here because you haven't learned what you need to do." He leaned slightly into me, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "And I'm here because you're running out of time.

The words sent a shiver down Cael's spine. He took a step back, his mind racing. "Running out of time? What does that mean?"

The man straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze was piercing, as though he was measuring Cael's every reaction. "You think the loop is endless? That you'll keep waking up every day until you magically figure it out? That's cute, really."

Cael's mouth went dry. The man's tone had shifted, the playful edge giving way to something darker, more dangerous.

"Each time you die," the man continued, "you lose a little more of yourself. Your memory. Your will. Eventually, there won't be enough of you left to break free."

Cael's stomach twisted. He could feel panic rising in his chest. "But—how do I stop it? How do I figure it out before—"

Abruptly, the man covered Cael's mouth, cutting him off. "That's the tricky part, isn't it? You've been asking the wrong questions. You keep trying to escape, but you haven't even begun to understand why you're here."

"Why am I here, then?" Cael's voice cracked with desperation.

The stranger's eyes narrowed, his smirk fading into something more serious. "You'll find out. Or you'll die trying. Again and again." He glanced around, as if suddenly aware of something unseen. "I've already told you more than I should."

Cael's head spun with confusion and fear. "What does that mean? Who are you really?"

The stranger's gaze softened, almost as if he felt a twinge of sympathy. "I'm just a... reminder." He gave Cael one last look, his face unreadable. "And maybe, next time, I won't be so generous."

Before Cael could respond, a sharp pain shot through his chest. His vision blurred, the world around him dimming as the familiar sensation of death overtook him. He gasped for air, but his lungs wouldn't cooperate. The last thing he saw was the stranger's face, calm and unbothered, as darkness swallowed him whole.

Cael's eyes flew open, The sun streamed through the window it had opened; everything else was the same, each morning reset of some kind of loop. Hard he panted, clawing at the bedsheets with his hands, desperate to remember.

He turned his head toward the desk. The diary was there, but it was different. The silver wrapping was gone, and the book looked worn, as if it had aged decades overnight. His hands trembled as he reached for it, flipping open the cover.

His handwriting across the page. Words he didn't remember writing.

"He's coming."

Cael's blood ran cold.

A knock echoed from downstairs.