Chapter 5 : The Name That Shouldn’t Exist

Chapter 5: The Name That Shouldn't Exist

The note trembled between Daniel's fingers.

"You knew me."

The ink was slightly smudged, blurred at the edges as if the words themselves had been erased and rewritten.

Daniel's stomach twisted.

He looked down at the body, then back at the note. Whoever this man was, he had recognized Daniel before he died.

But Daniel… didn't recognize him.

Or at least, he didn't think he did.

He swallowed hard, his pulse drumming in his ears. No. It was more than that.

It wasn't that he didn't recognize him.

It was that he almost did.

A faint, nagging familiarity—like a dream half-remembered upon waking. A name at the tip of his tongue that refused to come.

And that was what scared him the most.

The Dead Man's Identity

Daniel crouched beside the body. The man's face was pale, frozen in an expression of something between fear and understanding.

His clothes were damp from the storm, but there was no sign of a struggle. No defensive wounds, no blood spatters around the scene.

A clean death.

Too clean.

Daniel forced himself to take a slow breath. He had seen bodies before. He had seen death in many forms.

But something about this felt… different.

Like the body was placed here deliberately.

Like it was left for him to find.

Lightning flashed again outside, illuminating the ruined chapel for a fraction of a second. The shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls.

Daniel exhaled, shaking off the unease creeping up his spine. He needed answers.

He reached into the man's pockets, carefully searching for any form of identification.

His fingers closed around something cold.

A wallet.

He pulled it out, flipping it open with a slow, deliberate movement.

His breath caught.

Inside was an ID card.

The name printed on it made his chest tighten painfully.

The Name That Shouldn't Exist

"David Ellis."

Daniel's pulse stopped.

His fingers clenched around the wallet. That name.

It wasn't just familiar.

It was his.

Or rather—it had been.

A long time ago.

Daniel's mind spun, his vision blurring slightly. His own name was Daniel Hale. But years ago—before he had taken his vows, before he had chosen this life—he had been David Ellis.

A name he had left behind. A name that shouldn't exist anymore.

He looked down at the body again, his throat dry.

This man. Was he supposed to be him?

Or was he someone from his past—someone he had forgotten?

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through his skull.

Flashes of memory.

🔹 A darkened alleyway.

🔹 The metallic scent of blood.

🔹 A whispered phrase: "You were never meant to remember."

Daniel gasped, pressing his fingers against his temple. The images were gone as quickly as they had come, slipping through his grasp like sand.

No. No.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

A Memory That Feels Like a Warning

Daniel forced himself to steady his breathing.

The note. The name. The familiarity that made his skin crawl.

Everything pointed to one terrifying possibility.

This man had known him.

Not as Father Daniel.

But as someone else.

And whoever had left this body here—whoever had written that note—wanted him to know it.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to think.

But as he turned toward the chapel doors, the wind outside slammed them shut.

The storm raged harder now, the windows rattling violently. The candles near the altar flickered, the flames bending unnaturally as if caught in an invisible breath.

The air felt wrong.

Daniel's chest tightened.

Then—

A whisper.

Soft, distant, yet so close it felt like it was inside his head.

"You were here before."

Daniel spun, his breath hitching.

The pews stood empty.

The shadows remained still.

And yet—he wasn't alone.

Cliffhanger: The Shadow That Remembers

A movement.

Not in the chapel.

Not in the present.

But in his mind.

A memory—half-formed, fragmented—surfaced like something breaking through water.

🔹 A voice calling his name—his old name.

🔹 A figure standing before him, their face blurred, but their presence overwhelming.

🔹 A feeling—not fear, but… recognition.

And then—a gun in his hand.

The memory shattered.

Daniel staggered back, his breath ragged.

No. That wasn't real. That wasn't his.

Was it?

The shadows in the chapel deepened.

Daniel's gaze flicked toward the mirror near the altar—

And froze.

His reflection was standing there.

Watching him.

But it wasn't following his movements.

It was staring. Waiting.

And then—

It smiled.