THE GIRL WHO NEVER DIED
Part 1: Forgotten Cases
The coffee in Orion's cup had gone cold. He didn't care.
His laptop screen glowed in the dimly lit morgue, illuminating the file that shouldn't exist—CASE #0043, from 2004.
His name was on the autopsy report. Twenty years before he had even become a forensic pathologist.
And the last thing written in the report?
"She wasn't dead."
Orion leaned back, rubbing his temples. His mind was spiraling. He needed answers.
If this case was real, there had to be a detective assigned to it. Someone who handled the investigation back then.
He typed into the police database:
"Lead Investigator – CASE #0043"
A single name appeared.
Detective Henry Mathis.
Orion's breath caught. He knew that name. Everyone in the department did.
Because Henry Mathis had been dead for fifteen years.
Part 2: A Dead Man's Badge
Orion searched deeper. Mathis had been a veteran detective, known for working high-profile murder cases—until one day, in 2009, he had vanished.
A week later, his body was found floating in the bayou. No cause of death determined.
But something was off.
Orion scrolled through the logs. Mathis's police credentials had been used two months ago.
Someone had accessed sealed case files under his name.
Someone was pretending to be a dead man.
Orion's pulse quickened. He needed to find out who.
But first—he needed to know what Mathis had discovered before he died.
Part 3: The Witness Who Never Spoke
Mathis had only interviewed one witness in CASE #0043.
A woman named Margaret Holloway.
Last known address: St. Augustine Nursing Home.
Orion didn't waste time. Within an hour, he was in his car, driving through the rain-slicked streets toward the facility.
The nursing home was a quiet, sterile place. The kind of place where people were left to be forgotten.
A nurse led him to a small room where an old woman sat in a chair, staring out the window.
Margaret Holloway.
Her thin fingers drummed against the armrest. Deep wrinkles lined her face, but her eyes—her eyes were sharp. Watching. Waiting.
Orion sat down.
"Mrs. Holloway," he said carefully. "I need to ask you about something that happened in 2004. A case involving an unidentified woman."
Margaret's fingers stopped tapping.
For a long moment, she didn't speak.
Then, she whispered:
"You mean the girl who never died."
Part 4: Buried Truths
Orion felt a chill creep up his spine.
"The girl who never died?" he echoed. "Who was she?"
Margaret turned her head slowly. Her gaze locked onto his.
"She was already dead when they found her. No pulse. No breath." She hesitated. "But then she woke up."
Orion's fingers tightened around his notepad.
Margaret's voice dropped lower. "I saw it with my own eyes. The police took her body, put her in the morgue… and hours later, she walked out."
Orion's heart pounded.
The missing body. The erased records. The words on the old report.
"She wasn't dead."
Margaret leaned in. Her breath trembled.
"And you want to know the worst part?" she whispered. "They found her body again… a week later. Dead. A second time."
Orion felt ice settle in his veins.
"Where?" he asked.
Margaret swallowed.
"Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital."
Part 5: The Asylum That Shouldn't Exist
Orion gripped the steering wheel as he drove.
He had heard of Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital before—an old asylum, shut down years ago.
But what Margaret had said haunted him.
"They found her body there."
Not just anywhere. Blackwood. His own last name.
Coincidence?
Or something worse?
The hospital had been abandoned for over a decade. But if the missing woman's corpse had turned up there, maybe—just maybe—there were still answers hidden inside.
He took the exit off the main road, following the cracked pavement toward the outskirts of the city.
The asylum loomed ahead.
A massive structure of decayed brick and shattered windows. The gates were rusted, hanging open like a mouth waiting to swallow him whole.
His headlights flickered.
And for a split second—he saw someone standing in the doorway.
Then—gone.
Orion exhaled, gripping his flashlight.
He wasn't leaving until he found out what happened here.
Part 6: The Room with No Name
Inside, the asylum smelled of rot and dust. The walls were lined with old patient records, yellowed with time.
Orion moved carefully through the halls, scanning each room.
Then—he found it.
A door with no label.
His fingers hesitated on the handle.
Then he pushed it open.
Inside—
A single autopsy table.
Old medical tools. Rusted, but recognizable.
And on the wall—photos.
Orion stepped closer.
His breath caught.
They were crime scene photos. Of her.
The woman from CASE #0043.
Dead. Lying on the cold floor of the asylum.
And standing over her body—
Detective Henry Mathis.
Orion's pulse pounded. The man had been dead for fifteen years. But this picture was dated two months ago.
Part 7: The Dead Man's Letter
Orion's fingers trembled as he pulled an old envelope from the table.
On the front, scrawled in fading ink, was a name:
Orion Blackwood.
His breath hitched.
Hands shaking, he tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper, yellowed with age. The writing was rushed, desperate.
He read the first line:
"If you're reading this, it means I failed."
His pulse pounded as he scanned further.
"They tried to erase her. But she came back."
"You have to find the others before it's too late."
"Watch the mirrors. They don't always show what's real."
At the bottom—a signature.
Detective Henry Mathis.
Dated two months ago.
Part 8: The Face in the Mirror
Orion exhaled shakily, his mind spinning.
The asylum. The missing body. Mathis, who should have been long dead.
What the hell was happening?
His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone. He needed to take a picture of this.
But when he lifted the camera—his reflection caught his eye.
In the cracked mirror across the room—
His reflection wasn't moving.
Orion swallowed hard. Slowly, cautiously, he lifted his hand.
His reflection did not.
Then—it smiled.
The light above him flickered.
And the last thing he heard before everything went black—
Was his own voice.
"You were never here."