Chapter 16 : The Door
**Chapter 16: The Door That Shouldn't Exist**
Daniel's breath came fast, ragged.
The chair was no longer empty.
The figure—his blurred reflection—sat there, watching him.
The rain was gone. The streets were gone. The chase was gone.
Yet his coat was still damp. His shoes were still caked in mud.
Like he had truly been outside. Like it had actually happened.
But he never left Room 19.
He never opened the door.
He never ran.
His hands trembled. His mind twisted.
What was real?
---
### **The Figure That Watches**
The figure in the chair sat perfectly still.
The blur on its face flickered, like an old television screen struggling to hold a signal.
Its hollow eyes locked onto him. Watching. Studying.
Then, in his own voice, it spoke:
> "This is where you wake up."
Daniel's heart lurched.
Wake up?
The lights flickered. The room wavered, shifting like melting glass.
And for the briefest second—
—he saw another place.
A dark room. Strapped to a table. Machines humming.
A shadowy figure standing over him. A voice whispering something.
And then—
It was gone.
The room snapped back into focus. The figure was still in the chair.
> "You need to leave."
Daniel's breath hitched.
"Who are you?" His own voice felt foreign in his throat. "What is this?"
The figure twitched. Its head tilted slightly.
The blurred face rippled.
And then—
> "You already know."
A surge of nausea rolled through Daniel.
His mind screamed at him to run. To get out.
But the door—
The door wasn't there anymore.
---
### **The Room That Closes In**
The walls shifted.
They moved closer.
The room was shrinking.
No. Not shrinking.
Collapsing.
Like reality itself was breaking down.
Daniel stumbled back. His back hit the wall—except it wasn't solid.
The wall rippled under his touch, like water.
He yanked his hand away. His fingers tingled.
Something was wrong.
Daniel whipped around. The figure hadn't moved. But something was different.
There were shadows now.
In the corners of the room. Long. Twisting. Writhing.
> "They are always watching."
The whisper wasn't from the figure.
It came from the shadows.
Daniel's breath hitched. His pulse slammed against his ribs.
Something was coming.
Something outside his vision.
His head throbbed.
His memories flickered—like a broken film reel skipping frames.
He saw himself kneeling. Holding something.
A gun?
No—a scalpel.
And in front of him—
A nameplate.
> ELIAS WREN
---
### **The Name He Shouldn't Know**
Daniel's legs buckled.
That name.
He didn't know why, but it made his entire body scream.
Like something inside him was rejecting it.
Like he wasn't supposed to remember.
The shadows in the room thickened. The walls were no longer solid.
The figure in the chair finally moved.
It stood up.
And as it did, the blurred face sharpened.
Not into Daniel's.
Into someone else's.
A man. Cold eyes. A scar across his cheek.
A man Daniel had never seen before—
But knew.
Knew deeply.
> "I told you not to look for me."
Daniel's vision tilted. His pulse spiked.
The figure stepped closer.
> "You need to forget."
The shadows lunged.
---
### **The Fall into Nothingness**
A force slammed into Daniel.
He hit the floor, hard.
The room dissolved.
The shadows wrapped around him, pulling him down.
Falling. Falling. Falling.
> "Forget."
> "Forget."
> "Forget."
And then—
Nothing.
---
### **The New Beginning**
When Daniel opened his eyes—
He was in a hospital bed.
His arms were strapped down.
A beeping monitor. IV lines running into his arm.
A woman stood beside him. Clipboard in hand.
She looked familiar.
Too familiar.
She smiled.
> "Welcome back, Mr. Wren."
Daniel's chest clenched.
No.
No, that wasn't his name.
It wasn't.
Was it?
The woman leaned closer.
> "You've been gone a long time."
Her voice—he knew it.
> "We have a lot to talk about."
The door behind her opened.
A man in a suit stepped in.
Daniel's stomach turned to ice.
On his lapel—
A symbol.
A cracked iris.
The Fractured Eye.
Mnemosyne.
Daniel's throat tightened.
The man smiled.
> "Let's begin."
---
### **The Fractured Eye**
The man stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking against the tiled floor. His presence was suffocating, his cold eyes fixed on Daniel like a predator sizing up its prey.
"You've been through quite an ordeal," the man said, his voice smooth and calculated. "But don't worry. We'll help you remember."
Daniel's pulse quickened. His mind raced. Remember what? Who was this man? And why did the symbol on his lapel feel so familiar?
The woman with the clipboard stepped forward, her smile never wavering. "You've been under our care for some time, Mr. Wren. We've been working hard to help you recover."
Daniel's chest tightened. "That's not my name," he said, his voice hoarse.
The man's smile widened. "Isn't it?"
The woman glanced at her clipboard, her pen tapping against the paper. "You've been through a lot. It's natural to feel disoriented. But we're here to help you."
Daniel's head throbbed. Fragmented memories flickered in his mind—a scalpel, a nameplate, a shadowy figure whispering, "Forget."
He clenched his fists, the straps cutting into his wrists. "What do you want from me?"
The man leaned closer, his cold eyes boring into Daniel's. "We want you to remember. But not too much. Just enough."
The woman nodded, her smile fading slightly. "You've been through a lot, Mr. Wren. But we're here to help you."
Daniel's vision blurred. His head pounded. The room seemed to tilt around him, the walls closing in.
And then—
The lights went out.
---
### **The Darkness That Consumes**
The darkness was absolute.
Daniel's breath came in short, panicked gasps. He strained against the straps, his heart pounding in his chest.
And then—
A voice.
Low. Distorted. Familiar.
> "You're not ready."
The lights flickered back on.
The man and the woman were gone.
The room was empty.
Except for the figure.
It stood at the foot of the bed, its blurred face flickering.
> "You need to leave."
Daniel's breath hitched. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head. Its voice echoed in Daniel's mind.
> "You already know."
The lights went out again.
---
### **The Escape That Doesn't Make Sense**
When Daniel opened his eyes—
He was no longer in the hospital bed.
He was standing in a dark hallway, the walls lined with doors.
Each door was identical, their surfaces scarred and cracked.
The air was thick with the scent of mildew and something sharper—chemical, almost medicinal.
Daniel's pulse quickened. He looked around, his mind racing.
Where was he?
And then—
A sound.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
Coming from behind him.
Daniel turned, his heart pounding. The figure from Room 19 stood at the end of the hallway, its features still blurred, its hollow eyes fixed on him.
It took a step forward.
Daniel's breath caught. He backed away, his shoes slipping on the wet floor.
The figure spoke, its voice echoing in his mind.
> "You can't escape."
Daniel turned and ran.
---
### **The Chase**
The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, the doors on either side identical and unchanging.
Daniel's chest burned. His legs ached. But he couldn't stop.
He glanced over his shoulder.
The figure was still there, following him at a steady pace. It didn't run. It didn't need to.
Daniel turned a corner, hoping to lose the figure, but the hallway was the same. Empty. Endless.
And then—
A door.
It stood in the middle of the hallway, incongruous and out of place. A simple wooden door, its paint peeling, its handle rusted.
Daniel didn't think. He grabbed the handle and pulled.
The door opened.
Inside was darkness.
He stepped through.
---
### **The Room That Shouldn't Exist**
The door slammed shut behind him.
Daniel was back in Room 19.
The desk. The chair. The file.
Everything was exactly as he had left it.
But something was different.
The figure was sitting in the chair, its blurred features shifting, its hollow eyes fixed on him.
It spoke, its voice low and distorted.
> "You can't escape."
Daniel's breath hitched. His vision blurred. His head pounded.
And then—
The lights went out.
---