The Door Between Us

The knocking grew louder.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Ethan's breath came fast and shallow, his pulse hammering against his ribs.

The door at the end of the street shouldn't exist.

And yet, it did.

Pale, cracked wood. A faint glow seeping through the edges. And behind it—himself. Or something that sounded like him.

"Open the door, Ethan."

The voice sent a chill through his bones. It wasn't just calling to him—it was pulling at something deep inside, as if every part of him that had ever been lost, forgotten, or broken was on the other side.

The girl beside him—the girl from the forest—watched him carefully.

"Don't listen," she said softly. "It's not what you think."

Ethan turned to her, his voice raw. "Then what is it?"

A flicker of emotion crossed her face—hesitation. Fear.

Finally, she whispered, "Something that should never be whole again."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Another knock.

Another whisper.

"Let me in."

Ethan clenched his fists. His mind was screaming at him to run. But his body? His body wanted to step forward.

Like an invisible thread pulling him toward the door.

Like something inside him already belonged to it.

He swallowed. "If I don't open it… what happens?"

The girl didn't look away from the door.

"The thing behind it…" she murmured. "It isn't patient. It will find another way."

Ethan's stomach twisted. "Another way where?"

Her dark eyes met his.

"Into you."

What's Waiting on the Other Side?

A sickening chill slid down Ethan's spine.

"No," he whispered. "That's not possible."

The girl said nothing.

But deep down—he already knew she was right.

Because he felt it.

That same cold, creeping sensation he had felt ever since he came to Whispering Pines. The way the town watched him. The way the shadows whispered his name.

It had been there all along.

Waiting.

Watching.

And now, it was knocking.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

His breath hitched.

The girl's voice was barely above a whisper.

"If you open that door, you'll let it in. And if you don't…"

Ethan swallowed hard. "Then what?"

Her gaze darkened.

"Then it will take you piece by piece."

A heavy silence settled between them.

And that's when Ethan realized—he was already losing time.

The street had changed.

Buildings that had once been crisp and perfect were now cracking. The cobblestones beneath his feet looked older, worn, weathered by time.

Like something was breaking down.

Like reality itself was coming apart.

He turned back to the girl, panic rising in his chest. "What's happening?"

She exhaled. "This place is fragile. It was never meant to hold you. If you stay too long…"

She trailed off.

Ethan's hands curled into fists. "If I stay too long, what?"

Her voice was soft.

"Then you won't be you anymore."

His stomach lurched.

Because he could feel it.

A strange, sinking sensation, like something inside him was being unwoven. His fingers tingled. His thoughts blurred at the edges.

He felt like he was being… rewritten.

And the worst part?

It didn't feel wrong.

It felt natural.

Like it was meant to happen.

"Open the door, Ethan."

The whisper wasn't just coming from behind the door anymore.

It was inside his head.

Ethan staggered back.

"No," he gasped. "This isn't real."

The girl moved fast.

She grabbed his wrist—ice-cold fingers digging into his skin. "Listen to me."

Her voice was sharp, urgent.

"You have a choice. Right now. But you won't for much longer."

Ethan's pulse pounded. "What do I do?"

She exhaled shakily. "You have to leave. Now."

His hands trembled. "How?"

She pointed—not at the door, but past it.

Ethan followed her gaze.

And then—he saw it.

A second door.

Farther down the street.

Unlike the first one, this door was faint. Almost transparent, as if it was only half-real.

His way out.

But between him and it—

Was the other door. The one that was knocking.

The one waiting to be opened.

Ethan's throat was dry.

He could feel something shifting inside him.

Like a coin flipping in midair.

One side real. One side… something else.

And soon—one of them would land face up.

The voice behind the door grew louder.

"Come on, Ethan. Don't fight it. Just open the door."

He took a shaky step forward.

His fingers tingled.

His thoughts blurred.

Two doors.

Two choices.

And only seconds left before one of them was made for him.

But which one was the right one?

And worse—

Was there even a right choice at all?