Chapter 19 : The Room
Chapter 19: The Room That Shouldn't Exist
Darkness swallowed everything.
Daniel's body twisted as he fell, the void stretching endlessly below. Wind roared past him—except there was no wind, no sensation of air, only the sickening feeling of plummeting into nothing. The walls of the corridor, the endless doors labeled 19, all had disappeared.
But the whisper remained.
> "Find me."
The voice was distant but growing clearer. And it wasn't his.
Daniel clenched his teeth, bracing for impact—
Then—
He hit solid ground.
---
The Place That Shouldn't Exist
Daniel groaned, his limbs aching as he pushed himself up. The floor beneath him was smooth—too smooth. Cold. Like polished glass.
He blinked.
The space around him was impossible.
A massive, circular chamber stretched endlessly, its ceiling lost in darkness. The walls weren't solid; they shimmered, shifting like liquid, as if reality itself was unstable. In the center of the room stood a single door.
Room 19.
But this one was different.
Not the numbered doors from the hallway. Not the locked asylum rooms.
This door looked… old. Wooden. The paint peeling. The brass handle tarnished.
Daniel's stomach twisted.
He had seen this door before.
But where?
His fingers twitched at his sides, his breath uneven. His own voice had been calling to him, leading him here.
Or was it something else?
> "Find me."
The whisper came again.
Behind the door.
Daniel swallowed hard, his pulse hammering. His instincts screamed at him to run. But something deeper—something buried—pushed him forward.
His hand reached out.
The second his fingers touched the handle—
Everything changed.
---
The Door That Opens Both Ways
A violent shudder ran through the chamber.
The air turned thick, suffocating. The walls rippled like water disturbed by a stone. The ground beneath him tilted—no, it was his mind that tilted, his sense of self unraveling.
> This isn't real. None of this is real.
But his fingers were still on the handle.
And the moment he twisted it—
The door exploded open.
A blinding white light swallowed everything.
---
The Memory That Shouldn't Be Real
Daniel wasn't in the chamber anymore.
The cold, sterile light of a hospital room burned into his eyes. The scent of antiseptic, too sharp, too strong, filled his lungs. The steady beep of a heart monitor echoed in his ears.
He was lying on a bed.
IV lines ran into his arm. Electrodes were attached to his temples.
A metal nameplate sat on the table beside him.
> PATIENT: ELIAS WREN
Daniel's breath hitched. His pulse spiked, setting off a rapid beeping from the machines.
No.
No, this wasn't right.
His name was Daniel.
Not Elias.
Footsteps.
A shadow passed over him.
Someone stood at the foot of the bed.
Daniel's chest tightened.
A man in a suit.
His face was obscured, but Daniel saw the pin on his lapel.
A cracked iris.
The Fractured Eye.
Mnemosyne.
A smooth, calm voice.
> "Welcome back, Mr. Wren."
Daniel's blood ran cold.
No.
No, he wasn't back.
He had never been here.
Had he?
---
The Conversation
The man stepped closer, adjusting his cuffs. "You've given us quite a bit of trouble."
Daniel tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy—like he was drugged. The restraints on his wrists and ankles tightened automatically, responding to his movement.
His throat was dry. "Where—" His voice cracked. "Where am I?"
The man gave a small, knowing smile. "Right where you left yourself."
Daniel's breath came in short, sharp bursts. "You have the wrong person."
The man chuckled. "Do we?"
But something about it was off - too measured, too perfectly timed, as if it had been practiced. The corner of his mouth curled up but , his eyes didn't change.
He turned slightly, nodding to someone Daniel hadn't noticed before.
A woman stood near the monitors. Clipboard in hand. Calm. Observing.
Her face—
Daniel's heart stopped.
He knew her.
But-the wrong way.
Not the way you recognize a friend. The way you recognize a shadow in a nightmare.
Something buried deep inside him recoiled.
Somewhere deep in his mind, buried under erased memories, he knew her.
Her name almost surfaced.
But then—
A sharp, electric jolt shot through his skull.
Daniel screamed.
The room flickered.
For a second—
He saw the chamber again. The endless walls. The shifting reality.
And then—
He was back in the hospital bed.
---
The Truth That Shouldn't Be Known
The man sighed. "You're resisting again."
The woman never took her eyes off him. "We told you, Elias. You're not ready."
Daniel clenched his teeth, his vision swimming. "That's not my name."
The man tapped the nameplate. "That's funny."
Then he flipped it over.
Daniel's pulse stopped.
The other side had a different engraving.
> DANIEL WHITAKER
His name.
His actual name.
His mind splintered.
> Who am I?
> Who am I really?
The woman sighed, flipping a page on her clipboard. "We should reset him again."
The man shook his head. "No. Not yet. Let's see how much he remembers."
Daniel struggled against the restraints. "What do you want from me?"
The man leaned closer, the Mnemosyne symbol gleaming under the light.
"You should be grateful, Elias." His voice was almost gentle. "We let you forget."
Smiled.
> "We just need you to play your part."
The lights flickered.
The room shifted.
And Daniel remembered.
For just a second.
A gun in his hand.
A corpse at his feet.
The symbol of Mnemosyne burned into his skin.
And then—
It was gone.
The machines beeped. The woman scribbled something down.
The man straightened his tie. "Let's begin."
Daniel's mind fractured.
And the restraints tightened.