THE OTHERS

Part 1: The Files That Shouldn't Exist

Orion sat at his desk, Mathis's letter still clutched in his hands.

"Find the others before it's too late."

He didn't know who "the others" were, but Mathis had clearly been onto something before he died.

Or was murdered.

Orion pulled up the police database again, this time searching for similar cases—bodies that had vanished from morgues, people who had been declared dead but were later found again.

The system processed for a moment.

Then—a list appeared.

Six names.

Each belonging to a woman who had died under "unexplained circumstances." Each case marked as incomplete.

And every single one had one thing in common—

They had all died twice.

Part 2: The Letter from the Dead

Orion started with the most recent name on the list.

Eleanor Finch. Age 29. Declared dead two months ago. Cause of death: drowning.

Then, a week later—her body was found again.

Not in the river. Not at the morgue.

In her own bedroom.

Orion's stomach twisted as he read the report. No signs of forced entry. No explanation for how a dead woman had reappeared in her locked apartment.

Her family had refused to talk to the police after that.

Orion needed to know why.

He grabbed his coat and headed for his car.

Part 3: The Warning

Eleanor Finch's parents lived in a run-down house on the outskirts of the city. The curtains were drawn, the air thick with decay.

A frail-looking man answered the door. His eyes were sunken, his face hollow.

"Mr. Finch?" Orion asked.

The man nodded warily.

"I need to ask you about your daughter."

The old man flinched. "Eleanor is gone."

"I know," Orion said carefully. "But she—she came back, didn't she?"

A long silence. Then—the door slammed shut.

Orion knocked again. "Mr. Finch, please, I just need—"

A voice came through the door.

Low. Shaking.

"She wasn't Eleanor anymore."

Part 4: The Empty Grave

Orion drove straight to the cemetery.

If Eleanor Finch had died twice, then her body had to be buried somewhere.

He found her headstone easily. A fresh grave.

Orion's breath came in short bursts as he knelt down, brushing dirt from the inscription. "Eleanor Finch, 1994 - 2023. Beloved daughter."

Something about the date sent a chill down his spine.

2023. Two months ago.

But her police file said she had died twice.

Which meant—this was her second grave.

Orion's gut twisted. He had to know.

He needed to see what was inside.

He started digging.

Part 5: The Coffin That Wasn't There

The soil was damp, clinging to his clothes as he worked. His hands ached, his breathing ragged.

Then—his shovel hit something hard.

The coffin.

Orion hesitated. His heart pounded.

He reached down, brushing dirt from the edges, gripping the lid—

And he pushed it open.

Inside—

Nothing.

The coffin was empty.

Orion's pulse roared in his ears. He staggered back, his mind racing.

A woman who died twice. A body that disappeared again.

Then—his phone rang.

Unknown number.

He swallowed hard and answered.

No voice.

Just breathing.

Then, a whisper:

"You should've left her alone."

The line went dead.

Part 6: The Man in the Black Car

Orion's fingers tightened around his phone.

Someone was watching him.

He turned, scanning the cemetery. At first, nothing seemed out of place. Just rows of headstones, bathed in pale moonlight.

Then he saw it.

A black car, parked at the far end of the lot. No headlights. No movement.

Just waiting.

Orion's stomach twisted.

Then—the driver's side door opened.

A man stepped out.

Orion couldn't see his face. He was dressed in black, his features obscured by the shadows. But something about the way he stood—the way he watched—sent ice down Orion's spine.

A warning.

Or a threat.

Orion didn't wait to find out.

He turned and walked away.

Behind him, the man never moved.

Part 7: The Second Time She Died

Orion spent the next hour back at his apartment, digging through old news archives.

There had to be something connecting these women.

Then—he found it.

A hospital record.

Not for Eleanor Finch.

But for her mother.

Margaret Holloway.

Orion's breath hitched. The woman he had spoken to earlier—the one who told him about the girl who never died—was Eleanor's mother.

And according to the records—she had been admitted to Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital in 2004.

The same year as CASE #0043.

His blood ran cold.

Everything—**the missing bodies, the erased reports, the whispers of the dead—**it all traced back to that place.

And he had been there before.

He just didn't remember.

Part 8: The Locked Room

Orion barely slept that night.

He kept hearing breathing outside his apartment door.

At 3:33 AM, his phone buzzed again.

One new voicemail.

He hesitated, his finger hovering over the play button.

Then—he pressed it.

Static. Then—his own voice.

"Don't trust them."

His breath caught.

A sound came through the recording.

A creak.

A door opening.

Then—a single knock.

And another.

And another.

Slow. Rhythmic.

Coming from—

Inside his closet.

The voicemail ended.

Orion turned his head.

The closet door was slightly open.

And inside—

A pale hand, pressing against the wood.