chapter 10 The loop begins

Darkness. A dreamless void. And then—light.

Daniel's eyes snapped open.

For a moment, he lay there, breathing heavily, his mind sluggish. The last thing he remembered was burning. The searing heat. The villagers' furious faces. The stench of his own flesh melting. The screams—his screams.

But… there was no pain. No charred skin. He was alive.

He bolted upright, his hands running over his arms, his chest, his face. No burns. No wounds. His skin was smooth, untouched. As if nothing had happened.

His breath came in ragged gasps. No. This wasn't possible. This wasn't real.

Then, the door creaked open.

"Ah, you're awake."

Daniel's entire body went rigid. That voice. That familiar, old voice.

The chief stood at the doorway, offering a small smile.

Daniel's blood ran cold. His eyes widened in sheer terror. It was him. The man he had stabbed in the gut. The man whose corpse he had left on the floor while he…

No. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

The chief tilted his head slightly, watching him. "Did you sleep well?"

Daniel felt his stomach twist. It was the exact same words. The same tone. The same timing.

His breath quickened. His chest tightened. A scream threatened to rip from his throat. He scrambled backward on the bed, his hands shaking. This wasn't real. This can't be.

"Y-you…" His voice came out hoarse. His lips trembled. "You're supposed to be—"

The chief frowned, stepping closer. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Daniel couldn't take it. His mind screamed at him to get out.

He jumped out of the bed, shoved past the chief, and ran.

He dashed out of the house, nearly tripping over himself. His breath was heavy, his body shaking. He needed air. He needed to—

Then, his eyes locked onto her.

Standing outside the room, holding a knife in her hand, was the chief's daughter, Elira.

Daniel froze.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. For a split second, he felt pure fear.

She knows.

She remembers.

His mind was racing. Was she going to kill him? Stab him, the way he had stabbed her father? Take revenge for what he did? He reached for his own knife—but it was gone.

Then, she spoke.

"Are you okay?"

His breath caught in his throat.

She wasn't… angry. She wasn't screaming. There was no hatred, no fear.

Instead, her face was filled with concern. As if she was seeing him for the first time.

"Y-you…" His voice barely came out.

She tilted her head. "You look pale. Did something happen?"

Daniel couldn't move. Couldn't think. She didn't remember.

His hands shook. His mouth went dry.

He sprinted outside.

He turned his head, his eyes darting across the village.

Everything was exactly the same.

A man carrying a bucket dropped it at the exact same spot.

A small boy ran past him, tripping in the exact same way.

A woman sweeping her porch spoke the same words.

Everything was repeating.

Exactly the same.

Daniel's stomach twisted. His hands curled into fists.

This isn't real. This isn't real.

His breathing grew erratic.

The villagers—the same ones who had captured him, tied him to a post, set him on fire— were now acting as if nothing had ever happened.

His heart pounded against his ribs. His knees felt weak.

Either the villagers had forgotten everything, or… or…

Daniel shook his head. No. He couldn't think about this now. He had to leave.

He had to get out of here before something happened.

Daniel stormed out of the village. This wasn't real. It was some kind of nightmare, a trick, a hallucination.

The forest surrounded the village. Thick trees, endless paths. He'd run through them before—he'd escaped the police through these very trees.

He just had to go the opposite way.

He walked. Straight.

The village faded behind him.

The trees stretched endlessly.

He kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

But, the trees never ended.

His breath grew heavy. His heart pounded.

Then—he saw it.

Ahead, past the trees, the village.

No.

His blood turned to ice.

He spun around. He had been walking straight. He was sure of it.

Yet, somehow, he had walked back.

The villagers didn't react. They didn't even notice he had left.

Daniel clenched his jaw. "I must've… taken a wrong turn."

He turned back and tried again.

He walked faster.

Then ran.

Then sprinted.

But no matter what—

He always ended up back in the village.

The same spot. The same villagers. Repeating the same things.

His breath hitched. His hands trembled.

He tried a different path.

Same result.

Another.

Same result.

Another.

Same result.

Panic clawed at his throat. His vision blurred.

It's not possible. That was real, everything that happened, it was all real.

Everything that happened was real.

The sun hung high above. Time was moving forward. But no matter what he did— he wasn't.

Desperation clawed at his chest and Daniel turned to the villagers.

"Tell me the way out," he demanded. "How do I leave?"

An old man chuckled. "The fog is too thick today, boy. You'll get lost in the woods."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "What fog?"

The man waved dismissively. "Just wait till tomorrow. It'll clear up."

Daniel clenched his teeth.

Lies.

He had walked for hours. There was no fog.

They don't want me to leave.

He staggered backward. His body felt weak. His chest was tight.

He turned away, stumbling, hands trembling.

He walked toward the village center, his knees nearly giving out beneath him.

And then—he collapsed onto the grass.

His breath came in short, desperate gasps. His mind was spinning.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hands clutching his face.

His voice came out hoarse, broken.

"I'm stuck… I'm stuck…"

The villagers laughed, chatted, continued their lives. The sun began to set.

And Daniel knew—

Night was coming.

And he didn't know what would happen next.