Chris stumbled out of the apartment building, his shoes barely laced and his mind spiraling. As he reached his car, he froze. Sitting on the hood was a crumpled piece of paper. His hands shook as he picked it up. The writing was the same as the note from the night before—dark, jagged letters that seemed to burn into his vision:
"You can't outrun what you refuse to see. 6:30 will come again. And again. And again."
He staggered back, dropping the note as a rush of memories hit him—scenes he didn't recognize but felt like he'd lived. The same conversations with Louise. The same work routine . The same Headache the feeling he was missing something.
Chris's knees buckled as he clutched his head, the world spinning around him. This isn't the first time, he realized. The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming, undeniable. His breaths came in shallow gasps as a horrifying truth clawed its way into his consciousness:
No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, it would always end the same.
"No." He cried as he hopped into his car and slammed the breaks no it's a dream none of this is real it can't be he thought as he accelerated to Louise apartment then his phone buzzed. "Yes it's Chris."
It was Nick. His usual chirpy, too-normal voice. "You good, man? We've got a meeting in half an hour. Where you at?"
Chris’s hands trembled on the steering wheel, his grip slick with sweat. The voice on the other end of the line—Nick’s voice—felt wrong now, hollow and mechanical, like it was playing on a loop.
“Chris? You there?” Nick repeated, a note of forced cheer in his tone.
I…” Chris stammered, his throat dry. He hung up without answering, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat. He didn’t need to hear it anymore. He already knew what was coming next: the same meeting, the same coffee, the same nothingness.
He hit the gas harder, weaving through traffic as his mind raced faster than the car. The memories—or were they premonitions?—flashed through his mind like a movie reel on fast-forward. Louise screaming. Danny’s blade. The shadows. And the clock, always the damn clock, dragging him back to 6:30 AM like a cruel joke.
By the time he skidded to a halt outside Louise’s apartment building, his heart was hammering against his ribs. He bolted from the car, ignoring the strange looks from passersby as he sprinted to her door.
“Louise!” he shouted, pounding on the door with both fists.
After a tense moment, the door creaked open. Louise stood there, perfectly unharmed, a dish towel slung over her shoulder. Her face broke into a bright, welcoming smile.
“Chris? What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice warm but… wrong. Too measured. Too calm.
Chris stared at her, his mouth dry. “Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”
Louise tilted her head, her smile unwavering, as if she didn’t register the urgency in his voice. “Of course we’re okay. Why wouldn’t we be? Did you forget something at home?”
Chris pushed past her into the apartment, his eyes darting around the room. The kids were there, sitting on the floor with a pile of toys. Their laughter filled the air, but it was stiff, rehearsed—like an old recording being played back.
“Hey, Daddy!” his daughter called out, looking up at him with bright, unblinking eyes.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said automatically, his stomach twisting. Something about the way she spoke—the cadence, the tone—felt off. Too perfect.
He turned back to Louise. She was wiping her hands on the dish towel, watching him with a placid expression. Her smile hadn’t faltered once.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said lightly.
Chris took a step toward her, his voice trembling. “I… I thought something happened to you. To all of you.”
She laughed—a hollow, melodic sound. “Chris, you’ve been working too hard. Come sit down. I was just about to make breakfast.”
His head swam as he stumbled back a step. “This isn’t right,” he muttered, his eyes darting between her and the kids.
“What’s not right?” Louise asked, her voice soothing but devoid of depth, like she was reading from a script.
The kids giggled again, their laughter echoing in a way that made Chris’s skin crawl. He looked closer, and for a moment, their faces seemed… blurred, like the edges of a dream. He blinked, and they snapped back into focus, their gazes fixed on him with unnerving precision.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Chris turned back to Louise, his voice rising. “Who are you? What the hell is this?”
Her smile didn’t waver. “Chris, you’re scaring the kids. Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”
“No!” he shouted, his fists clenching. “This isn’t real. You’re not real!”
Her head tilted again, her smile finally fading as her eyes darkened, her voice dropping into an emotionless monotone. “You need to calm down, Chris.”
The kids stopped playing, their heads swiveling toward him in perfect unison. Their faces were blank now, their eyes glassy, like dolls waiting to be posed.
Chris’s breath came in sharp gasps as he stumbled out of the apartment, the world around him blurring. The air felt thick, pressing against his chest like an invisible weight. He turned toward his car, desperate to escape, but the note on the hood flashed in his mind. His hands trembled as he ran, his only thought to put distance between himself and that… thing masquerading as his family.
Halfway down the street, he skidded to a stop. A sleek black car idled at the curb, its windows tinted so dark he couldn’t see inside. Two figures stood in front of it—a man and a woman, both dressed in black suits that seemed to absorb the light. Their expressions were cold, unreadable, their movements unnervingly synchronized as they stepped toward him.
Chris’s instincts screamed to run, but his legs refused to move. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.
The woman spoke first, her voice calm and clinical. “Christopher Holloway?”
Chris swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. What’s it to you?”
The man pulled a small, sleek device from his pocket and scanned him with it. The device emitted a faint hum before the man nodded to the woman. “Confirmed. He’s awake.”
The woman stepped closer, her piercing gaze locking onto Chris’s. “We’re here to help you.”
“Help me?” Chris barked out a laugh, his fear mixing with anger. “You think I need help? My brother murdered my wife! My kids aren’t… they’re not even human anymore!” His voice cracked, and he took a step back. “Who the hell are you people?”
“We’re Redeemers,” the man said flatly, tucking the device away. “We locate individuals like you—those who’ve woken up to the cycle.”
Chris shook his head, his fists clenching at his sides. “What cycle? What are you talking about? None of this makes any damn sense!”
The woman’s expression softened, just slightly. “The world you know isn’t real, Mr. Holloway. It’s a construct, a prison designed to keep you complacent. Most people live their entire lives within it, blissfully unaware. But some—like you—wake up. You’ve seen the cracks, haven’t you? The patterns? The way everything resets?”
Chris stared at her, his chest heaving. “This is insane.”
“Insane?” the man interjected, his tone sharp. “Your family is gone, Holloway. Not just dead. Gone. Their souls have been erased. Your brother—Danny—he’s dangerous. He’s broken the rules He’s a rogue element now, that needs to be neutralised .”
The woman took a step closer, her voice dropping to a softer tone. “We need your help to stop him.”
Chris barked a hollow laugh, his body trembling. “My help? I couldn’t even save my wife. My kids—whatever they are now—they don’t even look at me like I’m a person anymore. And you want me to help you take down the psycho who did this?”
The man’s gaze was icy, unrelenting. “You don’t have a choice. If Danny continues, more people will get hurt, he doesn’t understand the system, and that’s what needs to be done before anything else understanding the system.”
“What!” Chris spat, his voice shaking. “Fuck the system! This place is a nightmare anyway!”
The woman grabbed his arm, her grip firm but not cruel. “We understand your anger, but there’s more at stake than you realize. If the cycle collapses, you won’t escape. You’ll be wiped out along with everyone else. The only way to truly break free is to help us get danny.”
Chris wrenched his arm away, taking a step back. “Why should I trust you? For all I know, you’re just part of this… this construct too.”
The woman sighed, exchanging a glance with her partner. “We were like you once. Awake. Lost. Angry. But we found a way to fight back. To protect the ones who can’t see the truth.”
Chris hesitated, his mind racing. “And my family? Are they… can I save them?”
The man’s face remained impassive. “Their physical forms are gone. Their souls were consumed by the system when Danny killed them. They’re beyond recovery.”
The words hit Chris like a sledgehammer, knocking the air from his lungs. He stumbled back, his legs nearly giving out. “No… no, you’re lying.”
The woman’s voice softened, almost apologetic. “We’re sorry, Chris. Truly. But you need to understand: Danny is using the shadows to feed his power. Every life he takes strengthens his power, he thinks he can break the system, but he’s wrong.”
Chris’s mind reeled, memories of Louise’s blank smile and the children’s glassy eyes flashing through his head. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “If I help you,” he said through gritted teeth, “what happens to me?”
The woman hesitated, her eyes searching his. “We’ll tell you in due time, right now we’ve thrown a lot on to you, and you need time too process it.”
Chris stared at the two of them, his heart pounding. The weight of everything he’d lost—and everything he might lose—pressed down on him like a crushing wave.
“I’ll help you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “But not for your system. Not for your rules. I’m doing this for them. For Louise. For my kids.”
The man nodded. “Then let’s begin.”
As the black car door opened, Chris caught one last glimpse of Louise’s apartment in the distance. A shadow passed across the window, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw Danny’s face, grinning back at him.
Chris’s stomach churned as he climbed into the black car. The interior smelled faintly of leather and something metallic, and the windows seemed to swallow the outside world, leaving him in a cocoon of muted silence. The man and woman slid into the front seats, their movements precise and synchronized. The engine purred to life, and the car glided away from the curb.
Chris stared out the tinted window, his mind a storm of grief and fury. Louise. The kids. Their laughter. Their love. All gone. And Danny… the image of his brother’s twisted grin burned into his mind like a brand.
“Where are we going?” Chris asked, his voice hoarse.
The woman glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “To a safe house. We need to assess how much you’ve seen and prepare you for what’s coming.”
Chris leaned forward, his fists clenching. “No. No safe houses. No assessments. I want to find him. Now.”
The man’s voice was cold and steady. “It’s not that simple. Danny is an s class threat he’s killed two other redeemers before up in the city, it’s why he’s wanted it’s why he’s dangerous his power is very powerful in the fact that there’s so much you can do with it we need to be very precise about how we try to find him.”
Chris’s jaw tightened. “You think I care about precision? He slaughtered my family, and you want me to sit around while you play chess?”
The woman turned slightly in her seat, her expression calm but firm. “We understand your pain, Chris. But rushing in blind will only get you killed—and we don’t want that so you’ll do it our way.”
Chris’s breath hitched, the weight of their words pressing down on him. He slumped back in his seat, his head falling into his hands. “This isn’t real,” he muttered to himself. “None of this is real…”
“It feels real, doesn’t it?” the woman said, her tone softer now. “That’s the point. The cycle is designed to keep you invested, to keep you from asking questions. To keep you trapped.”
Chris raised his head, his eyes burning with grief. “And Danny? How did he escape? How did he—” His voice cracked. “—how did he do this?”
The man hesitated, then spoke. “Danny well you see we’re not quite sure how we broke out the cycle, some people think it’s random a sign the system is collapsing, there’s been many theories Danny thinks he’s be chosen for some higher purpose we’re not quite sure.”
Chris laughed bitterly. “Chosen? He’s a butcher. A monster.”
The woman’s voice turned grave. “That’s what makes him so dangerous. To Danny, every life he takes is a step toward salvation. He sees himself as a prophet, and anyone who stands in his way is expendable.”
The car fell silent as Chris stared out the window, his fists trembling. “And my family?” he asked after a long pause. “Their… souls. You said they’re gone. Forever. Is that true?”
The man glanced at the woman, then back to Chris. “Yes,” he said simply.
The word hit Chris like a punch to the gut. He closed his eyes, the tears coming unbidden. He saw Louise’s smile, the way she’d laugh at his terrible jokes. The kids’ voices, their giggles echoing in his mind like ghosts.
“It doesn’t matter,” Chris said finally, his voice hollow. “I’m going to end this. I’m going to stop Danny and this cycle . Even if it kills me.”
The woman nodded, her expression unreadable. “Good. Because it might.”