Sleep felt like an impossible concept.
After what happened last night—the siren, the fog, and the version of me that spoke like he came from another plane of existence—I spent the hours before dawn lying wide-eyed in bed, trying to make sense of it all.
I wasn't sure what disturbed me more—the fact that I saw my own doppelgänger or that he spoke with a calm certainty I didn't recognize in myself.
When the first light of day crept into the cottage, I tried to act normal. I stepped out into the lounge and found Ambrose already there, sipping coffee, wrapped in a blanket like some ancient monk.
"Morning," I said, keeping my voice even.
He grinned through his messy hair. "You look like you fought a demon in your sleep."
I smirked, but inside I felt like I kind of had.
Jacob and Bobby joined us a few minutes later, both complaining about cereal and lack of proper tea. The casual bickering was oddly comforting.
We spent the morning lounging around—Ambrose cracking jokes, Jacob arguing about the best survival gear, and Bobby glued to his laptop, still obsessing over local legends and forums about strange forests. It almost felt like things were back to normal. Almost.
But when the sun began to dip below the trees, I knew it was only a matter of time before the forest came alive again.
We decided to have dinner together in my room. Nothing fancy, just some food ordered from the resort kitchen. Everything was fine until one of the staff members knocked on the door and asked to speak with me outside.
"Just a reminder, sir," he said in a hushed tone, avoiding my eyes. "Please ensure none of your group steps out between 3 AM and 5 AM. It's… not advised."
"Because of the cold?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
He gave me a half-hearted nod. "And… there won't be any staff around then. Just best to stay in."
"But why that window?" I pressed.
"I don't ask questions, sir. Management's rules."
I watched him walk away, his head down like he'd just confessed something forbidden.
Back in the room, I sat beside Bobby and Ambrose, watching Jacob complain about how much spice was in the food. The atmosphere was light. Forced, maybe, but better than letting the tension win.
As the clock approached 2 AM, my phone buzzed. Anita.
My chest tightened. After last night, I didn't know what to expect. But I picked up anyway.
It escalated quickly.
Same argument. Same miscommunication. Same sharp tone in both our voices.
It was a mirror of the call we had during that first night—almost word-for-word.
I ended the call with my hands shaking. Bobby looked at me from across the bed.
"Round two?"
I nodded. "Exactly the same. I swear it's repeating."
"Maybe you're just tired, man."
"No, Bobby. This was… identical."
He didn't respond immediately. That was Bobby's thing—he processed everything before speaking. The guy could've been a scientist if he wasn't so interested in myths and dimensions.
He leaned forward, his tone softer. "Maybe it's not the world repeating. Maybe it's you. Maybe you're being pulled into the same moment again and again."
His words chilled me more than the siren had.
Still, I tried to sleep. So did he. But as expected, the siren came again—at 3:30 AM sharp. Piercing. Unnatural. Too clean to be a machine, too organic to be explained.
I sat up immediately and tried shaking Bobby awake.
"Wake up, man. It's happening again!"
He wouldn't move.
I yelled louder.
Nothing.
Then my phone buzzed—Anita, again.
"What is going on?" I muttered and answered the call. "Why are you calling again?"
"Alex?" Her voice was soft. "You okay?"
"We just talked."
"No, we didn't. I just woke up."
My skin crawled.
I tried to keep it together. "Can we just… talk normally?"
And we did. This time, without the argument. Without the repetition.
When the call ended, I checked the logs.
One call. Just one.
In the morning, I dragged Bobby to the lounge and explained everything. Again.
He looked unsure until I forced the call log in front of his face. That's when the gears in his brain really began turning.
Ambrose and Jacob joined us. I told them the entire story—again.
Jacob, ever the skeptic, scoffed. "You're dreaming this stuff, man. Probably mixing up your days."
That's Jacob. Hyper-logical, emotionally unavailable, and constantly annoyed by anything that doesn't fit his framework of reality. But he's the guy you want when you're panicking—because he never does.
Bobby stood up. "Something is off, and you know it."
I looked at the others. "Let's stay in the same room tonight. All four of us. Whoever wakes up to the siren, wakes everyone else."
They agreed.
Jacob and I went into town later in the day to get supplies. Jacob grabbed a couple of torches. "Phones suck at night. This might help."
We returned to find Ambrose and Bobby back from the forest. They'd found something.
"There's a hut," Ambrose said. "In the middle of the forest. Empty. Quiet. Creepy as hell. And an old guy said he's 'stuck in a loop.'"
"Did he say anything else?" I asked.
"Nope. The moment I probed, he shut down."
Ambrose may act like a fool, but he's sharper than people realize. That's always been his trick—hide your intelligence behind jokes, and no one sees you coming. But I could tell this shook him.
We shared theories over dinner. Bobby had gone full deep-dive into the internet—he found myths about time loops, interdimensional forests, people vanishing and reappearing unchanged.
It all sounded crazy. Until Ambrose mumbled, "The old man… said he's stuck in a loop."
No one laughed after that.
We all slept in the same room.
At 3:00 AM, the siren blared.
Ambrose woke first. He tried shaking us.
None of us moved.
He picked up one of the torches and stepped out alone.
We didn't remember it. Not until he told us.
The fog.
The strange markings on trees.
The sudden cold.
And then… a hand on his shoulder.
When he turned, it wasn't what he expected.
It was us.
All of us.
Standing there.
Frozen. Silent.
As if we were statues pulled from another reality.
Ambrose didn't scream.
He just closed his eyes—and waited for the dream to end.
But it never did.