Kael hadn't slept in three days.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw him.
A boy with no face. Trapped in a dark hallway. Bleeding from the eyes. Clawing at walls that whispered in languages Kael couldn't understand. Screaming—not in fear, but in agony.
Last night, Kael woke up with his hands covered in blood.
No wounds.
Just blood.
Not his.
And carved into his wall, deep and shaky:
"I want my life back."
---
He sat in the abandoned library now, fingers trembling over the red notebook. Pages were missing. Others were written in handwriting that wasn't his.
He flipped a page.
It was blank.
Then words appeared—slowly—like they were being scratched from the inside:
"She remembers me."
The watch ticked violently.
A high-pitched whine screamed in Kael's ears. His nose bled. The world around him flickered.
He looked up.
Aria stood in the doorway.
She looked… distant. Pale.
"I had a dream," she said softly, "You were crying, but it wasn't you."
Kael's throat tightened. "What did he say?"
She stared at him.
"He said he wants out. And… he said your body wasn't meant to hold him."
Kael's breath caught. His fingers dug into his temples. "I'm not crazy."
"You're not," she said. "But you're not… whole either."
Then—
The lights exploded.
Books flew from the shelves.
The library twisted. Bent in impossible ways. A mirror cracked across the floor, but there were three reflections of Kael.
One crying.
One smiling.
One… grinning, eyes pitch black.
"Do you see it now?" Aria whispered.
And Kael finally heard it:
A second heartbeat inside his chest.