They say madness creeps in like fog. Silent. Soft. Familiar.
But I didn't feel mad. I felt awake. More than I had ever been.
So why was I back in the woods? Why were the trees taller? Why did the sky feel closer—like it wanted to crush me?
---
I walked. Or maybe I floated. Everything under my feet felt unstable. Like memory.
Eli appeared beside me. No warning. No sound. His voice was calm:
> "You were never in Fairhill. You were under it."
My mouth opened—but nothing came out.
Nathan joined from the other side. No emotion on his face. Just a single sentence:
> "The truth was too loud. So your mind made walls."
I stopped walking. They didn't. They kept going, like shadows on repeat.
---
A door appeared. No building around it. Just a frame. A handle. A rusted keyhole.
The key from last night pulsed in my pocket. I pulled it out—inserted it. It fit.
When I opened the door—
White.
Hospitals don't look like this in real life. Too bright. Too clean. Too empty.
I stepped in. Shoes echoing like heartbeats.
Room numbers lined the hallway.
22.
23.
24.
I stopped. 33.
Inside: a chair, a journal, a mirror. And a man.
Back turned. Writing.
He looked familiar. He was familiar. He was me.
---
> "They gave you pills to forget," he said, still writing. "But the story kept leaking out. Even silence has its cracks."
I stepped forward. He didn't turn.
> "You made Eli to hide. Nathan to fight. But you never made someone to heal."
My head throbbed. I saw flashes:
The knife. The cave in Petra. The hand. The silence.
Then— Mr. Thorne. In the hallway. Smiling. But his smile was stitched. His eyes— So tired. So broken.
> "He tried to warn you," the other me whispered. "But even Thorne knew... no one leaves this place whole."
The lights above flickered. Then died.
All I saw was my own reflection. And behind me—
The man from Petra.
Older now. Respected. Powerful.
But his eyes hadn't changed.
The same predator. The same fear. The same dagger.
I froze.
---
I stumbled back, gasping—but there was no air. The walls folded inward, paper-thin. Voices echoed from every corner:
> "Wake up, Qussai." "You're still inside." "You were always inside."
I turned. Eli stood in the mirror now. No reflection—just him. Smiling, sad.
> "We were never real. We were what you needed."
I shouted. Screamed. Begged.
But silence swallowed every sound.
The journal on the chair burst into flames. The coin melted. The key snapped.
Nathan appeared one last time, standing in the doorway, whispering:
> "The hill isn't fair... the fare is hell."
Then everything fell away. The world collapsed inward. Darkness roared. And I remembered.
Everything.
---
To be concluded in Chapter 15.