chapter 11 Desperation

Daniel opened his eyes. Again.

For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling.

A familiar ceiling. A familiar bed. A familiar room.

His fingers dug into the blanket. His breathing was steady, but his body was tense.

He knew what was coming next.

Right on cue—

The door creaked open.

Footsteps. A shadow stretched across the wooden floor.

And then—

"Ah, you're awake."

The exact same words. The same calm tone. The same casual expression.

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

Daniel didn't react. His mind was already prepared.

He had been stuck in this same morning for—how long now? He wasn't sure— maybe days, maybe weeks. The passage of time had become meaningless.

The day kept resetting. No matter what he did.

Morning always came again.

And the same nightmare began anew.

Daniel sat up slowly, his body feeling heavier than before. His mind was filled with a dull exhaustion.

The chief's eyes studied him with curiosity. The exact same look every morning.

Daniel exhaled.

"Help me leave."

The words felt pointless coming out of his mouth.

The chief tilted his head, his response instant.

"The fog is too thick today. You'll get lost in the woods. You can go tomorrow."

Daniel clenched his jaw. He knew, tomorrow is never coming.

Never.

He stood up abruptly, ignoring the chief's gaze, and walked out of the house.

Standing at the edge of the forest, Daniel scanned his surroundings.

The trees stretched into the distance, their dark forms twisting and shifting in the early morning mist.

He needed to try something new.

His fingers curled around his knife.

A man passed by, carrying a small sack over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, Daniel stepped forward, grabbed the man by the collar, and pressed the cold steel of his blade against his neck.

The man froze, his breath hitching.

Daniel's voice was low, firm.

"You're going to take me out of here. And if you try anything stupid, I'll slit your throat."

The man shuddered, his eyes wide with terror. He swallowed hard and gave a shaky nod.

Daniel tightened his grip on the man's collar. No escape.

"Move."

The man hesitated, then stepped into the forest.

Daniel followed closely behind, his knife still pressed against the man's skin.

The trees loomed overhead, their twisted branches blocking out the sky. The air felt heavier the deeper they went.

Daniel's eyes stayed locked on his hostage. He wasn't about to let him pull any tricks.

The man walked in silence, his breaths quick and nervous. His pace was steady. Nothing seemed wrong.

Until—

He vanished.

It happened in an instant.

One second, Daniel was watching his every movement.

The next—he was gone.

No sound. No struggle.

Nothing.

Daniel stiffened.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

His breath hitched.

He spun around, knife raised.

The man was nowhere.

His eyes darted through the trees. He took a cautious step forward, then another.

Nothing.

The forest was silent.

Daniel's fingers clenched around the hilt of his knife, his knuckles turning white.

He knew what was waiting for him.

He walked forward.

And there it was.

The village.

Staring back at him as if he had never left.

Daniel didn't waste time.

He grabbed another man. This time, he held onto him.

One hand clamped over the man's wrist, the other held the knife firmly against his throat.

"You're not going anywhere," Daniel hissed.

The man trembled but nodded.

They walked. Slowly.

Deeper.

And deeper.

The trees pressed in around them.

Daniel's grip on the man never wavered.

Then—it happened again.

Daniel felt nothing.

One moment, the man was in his grasp.

The next—he was gone.

Daniel froze.

His fingers still held the air where the man's arm had been.

As if he had never existed.

The forest was silent.

Daniel slowly turned around.

His breathing was ragged. His mind raced.

He started walking back.

And, like before—

The village was waiting for him.

His desperation grew.

If he couldn't walk out—he'd climb.

Daniel picked the tallest tree he could find and began to ascend.

The bark was rough beneath his palms. His arms ached as he pulled himself up, branch after branch.

Higher.

Higher.

Until—he reached the top.

And what he saw made his stomach drop.

The forest stretched endlessly, in every direction.

There was no end.

And in the very center…

The village. The prison.

He climbed down slowly, his hands shaking.

The day passed in a blur.

He tried many thing.

Every path. Every direction.

Many plan failed.

By the time the sun set, he was exhausted.

Yet—he couldn't sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, a deep unease settled in his chest.

As if something was watching.

As if the night itself was alive.

So, he stayed awake.

Waiting.

Listening.

As the moon hung high in the sky, a single thought echoed in his mind.

I have to get out.

But the village wouldn't let him.

And he was starting to realize—

Maybe, it never would.