Chapter 9: The Conversation That Shouldn't Exist
Daniel's grip on the photograph tightened.
"Your past isn't real."
The words still echoed in his mind, colliding against every rational thought he had left.
The man standing before him—the man who had the same face as the corpse—watched him with unsettling calm.
Daniel's breath was slow, controlled. But inside, his pulse pounded.
"What do you mean?" His voice was low, careful.
The man exhaled. Like he had answered this before.
"I mean exactly what I said."
"That's not possible."
"Isn't it?"
Daniel's jaw clenched.
The storm outside had softened into a distant rumble, but inside the chapel, the air felt thicker. He could feel the weight of something unseen pressing against him.
Something was wrong.
And he was tired of not knowing what.
The Truth That Keeps Changing
"Let's say I believe you," Daniel said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "That doesn't explain why there's a dead version of you in that pew."
The man turned his head slightly, glancing at the corpse.
No reaction. No shock. Just quiet understanding.
Then, he met Daniel's gaze again.
"Because that's not me."
Daniel's breath hitched.
"Then who is it?"
The man's lips parted like he was about to speak—but then he hesitated.
For the first time, his confidence cracked.
His brow furrowed slightly, like he was thinking too hard.
Or like he was struggling to remember something.
"He was…" The man's voice trailed off.
Daniel watched closely.
"He was…?"
Silence.
The man blinked.
"I don't know."
The Gaps in Reality
Daniel's stomach twisted.
Something about the way the man had answered—like he was experiencing a gap in his own memory.
Like something had been erased.
Just like with Daniel.
A sharp pain flared behind Daniel's eyes. A sudden, jarring rush of images filled his head—but they weren't complete.
🔹 A name spoken just out of reach.
🔹 The weight of something cold in his hands.
🔹 A figure standing in the dark, their face obscured.
🔹 A voice—his own—saying, "Erase it."
The images vanished.
Daniel exhaled shakily.
And when he looked back at the man—
The photograph in his hands had changed again.
The Photograph That Shouldn't Exist
Daniel's pulse stopped.
The background was fading even more—almost completely gone now.
But that wasn't what made his hands tremble.
It was the third person in the picture.
Before, it had just been Daniel and the dead man.
Now—there was someone else.
A shadowed figure stood just behind them, their features obscured, but their presence undeniable.
Daniel knew that figure.
Even if he didn't remember how.
His throat felt dry.
"Who is this?" he asked, turning the photo toward the man.
But the man just stared at it.
His expression had changed.
Not confusion. Not surprise.
Fear.
And then, in a voice barely above a whisper—
"That wasn't there before."
Cliffhanger: The Question That Changes Everything
A heavy silence filled the chapel.
Daniel's thoughts spiraled. Reality itself was shifting.
The memories. The photo. The way details kept changing—like someone was rewriting them in real time.
His chest tightened.
"Tell me the truth."
The man didn't move.
"What am I forgetting?" Daniel's voice was steady, but his pulse wasn't.
The man exhaled shakily.
For the first time, he looked uncertain.
"You really don't know, do you?"
Daniel didn't answer.
The man studied him for a long moment.
Then—
"Then I shouldn't be here."
And before Daniel could react—he turned and walked into the dark.
Vanishing before he even reached the door.