Chapter 17: Nowhere is Safe

We left town at sunrise.

The road stretched ahead, but something about it felt **wrong**—like the air was **too still**, the sky too flat, the trees too **perfectly placed**.

Amy gripped my sleeve, her fingers trembling. Neither of us had spoken since we stepped beyond the last house.

I kept my eyes forward. Kept walking.

We had to get out.

But with every step, a sinking feeling gnawed at my gut—

**It wasn't going to let us leave.**

The farther we walked, the **heavier** it felt.

The weight of the town clung to my back, dragging at my limbs, pressing against my chest like unseen hands. I didn't look back—I was afraid if I did, I'd see the town **growing closer** instead of farther away.

Amy's breathing hitched.

"We're still in it," she whispered.

I didn't answer.

Because I already knew.

We started running.

Amy's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, but she didn't stop. Neither did I.

The town shrank behind us. The sun rose higher. The road stretched on.

But it never **changed**.

It was like running in a loop—like something was folding the space around us, twisting it back in on itself.

Amy suddenly **stopped**.

I turned back. "Amy?"

Her face had gone pale.

She was staring ahead—at the road in front of us.

I followed her gaze—

And my stomach dropped.

The **Welcome to Harrow** sign stood just a few feet ahead.

We hadn't left at all.

The town had looped.

Or maybe—

It had never left.

Amy took a step back, shaking her head. "No. No, no, no—"

Her breath turned frantic, her hands clenching into fists. I caught her wrists before she could scratch at her arms.

"Amy," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "We need to stay calm."

Her eyes darted to mine, wide with fear. "We can't leave, Jack. It won't let us."

I swallowed hard.

The Watcher was **gone**. So what was keeping us **here**?

Then—

A sound.

A low, rhythmic **scraping**, like something **dragging** across the pavement.

Amy stiffened beside me. "Jack."

I turned.

A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision.

I whipped my head around—**nothing**.

But the sound didn't stop.

It was moving. **Circling us.**

Amy grabbed my arm. "We need to go."

I nodded.

We didn't run this time.

We walked. Slowly. Carefully.

And the scraping **followed**.

I didn't know where we were going.

I just knew we couldn't **stop**.

The streets were empty, but I could feel **something** there. Watching. Pressing against the edges of reality, twisting things just enough to make them **wrong**.

Amy leaned closer. "Jack…"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

I turned to her—

And my breath caught.

Her shadow.

It **wasn't hers**.

It stretched too long. Too thin. The edges frayed like unraveling fabric, shifting and twisting—like something **else** was inside it.

Amy followed my gaze—then **froze**.

"…Jack," she breathed.

Her shadow **twitched**.

Then it **moved**.

Not with her.

By itself.

Amy **stumbled back**—and the shadow **lunged**.

I grabbed Amy and **pulled** her away.

The shadow **stretched**, clawing toward her—its edges curling like **fingers**.

Amy let out a strangled gasp, kicking backward. Her foot hit the pavement—then **sank**.

Her ankle—**swallowed** by the road.

I **yanked** her out, pulling her to her feet.

The shadow **snapped** back, slithering along the ground, merging into the others.

Amy was shaking violently. "It's not a town," she whispered. "It never was."

My breath came fast. **She was right.**

This wasn't a town.

It was a **prison**.

And now the thing it was **keeping locked away was loose**.

I turned in a slow circle, staring at the shadows—the way they **moved** at the edges of my vision.

The Watcher was never the true monster.

It was the **gatekeeper**.

The thing it was **guarding**—that's what was still here.

That's what was keeping us from leaving.

Amy grabbed my hand. "Jack," she whispered, "how do we lock it away again?"

I looked at her.

At the town.

At the shifting, breathing **thing** around us.

"I don't know," I said.

But I knew one thing—

If we didn't stop it now, it would **never stop watching**.

And we would never be free.

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