"I know," she said. "That's why you're here."

  She tilted her head.

  "Or maybe... it's the other way around?"

  CHAPTER 3 - MY REFLECTION IN FLESH

  The stench of blood and flesh in front of me was nauseating.

  I had read about crime, seen images that would make the average person sick-but this? Seeing it in real life was different.

  It wasn't just terrifying.

  It felt personal.

  The body lay twisted, half-sunken into the damp earth, as if it had been there for days. Flesh peeled away from bone. Eyes long gone. The mouth stretched open in a silent scream.

  This was no longer a mystery to solve behind a screen.

  It was real.

  It's night, and they were digging the grave. He will be buried soon. I hope.

  I myself to swallow the bile rising in my throat. My mind reeled, clinging to her words.

  "That's why you're here."

  What did she mean? That I was here because of that body? Because someone died?

  And then-her next words sent a chill down my spine.

  "Or maybe... it's the other way around?"

  I opened my mouth to ask, to demand answers, but-

  My legs buckled.

  A sharp pain shot through my lower back. My vision blurred. My heart pounded-too fast, too hard-

  What? Why?

  I wasn't running anymore. I wasn't exhausted a second ago-maybe it's the adrenaline dropping.

  My body collapsed.

  I reached out toward her, my fingers barely brushing the air before-

  Thud.

  Blurring vision and then-

  Darkness.

  And then-

  A scream tore through the void.

  A voice, not mine-

  "You killed me-bones twisting, guts spilling-"

  The words blurred, tangled together, melting into a sound that didn't belong in this world.

  I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

  Something wet crawled up my arms.

  And then-

  I shot up, gasping, my hand clutching my chest.

  Bright light flooded the room.

  Sunlight.

  It poured through a nearby window, warm against my skin.

  Warm.

  For the first time since this nightmare began, I wasn't cold. I wasn't wet.

  Wait.

  I looked down.

  The damp, tattered mess I wore last night was gone-replaced with fresh, well-fitted clothes. Almost as if they were made just for me.

  I blinked.

  Not that it mattered. The old ones had no pockets, no phone-nothing useful in a place like this anyway.

  Where am I?

  My throat burned. The taste of salt and bile still lingered in my mouth. But the bed beneath me was soft. The air smelled clean, with a faint, inviting scent-

  Food.

  My stomach clenched.

  When was the last time I ate?

  I forced myself to take in my surroundings.

  A wooden house. Simple. A sturdy roof, smooth walls, a closet in the corner, a few chairs. A door leading to another room. Everything neat, well-kept.

  And then-

  A voice.

  "Oh! You're awake!"

  I turned to the window, squinting as a figure peeked inside.

  The sunlight behind her turned her into a silhouette, but her tone was light, cheerful-too normal.

  It was her.

  "It's almost noon," she said, resting her elbows on the windowsill. "Good for you, it's almost lunchtime!"

  She grinned. As if nothing had happened. As if there hadn't been a body.

  My throat tightened.

  She tilted her head, watching me.

  "You feeling okay? You were pretty out of it last night."

  I swallowed hard.

  Her gaze flickered down, scanning me with something almost like curiosity.

  "You're pretty bruised up, but it doesn't seem serious. I was thinking of asking the doctor to check on you, but honestly, after last night..." She hesitated. "Well, let's not go there. You don't have a fever, so that's good. I kinda kept checking on you the whole night. Why don't you get cleaned up first? Then we can have lunch and visit the doctor together."

  She smiled.

  Gentle, warm, like sunlight filtering through leaves.

  I could listen to it forever.

  And then-

  She disappeared from the window.

  Only to pop back a second later.

  "Oh! I left some clothes for you. They should fit. Just toss the ones you're wearing in that bucket, okay?"

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  Then-gone again.

  And just like that-she was gone.

  I exhaled.

  I hadn't seen her clearly last night. Even now, the light outside was too bright to make out her face.

  I rolled up my pant leg.

  Thin cuts covered my skin.

  Not deep, but sharp. Dozens of them.

  I ran my fingers over them, feeling the sting.

  Last night wasn't a dream.

  It was real.

  And I was still here.

  I reached for the bathroom door and pushed it open.

  The first thing I saw was a mirror.

  I froze.

  The person staring back at me-was that me?

  Hollow eyes. Sunken cheeks. Pale skin stretched too thin over sharp bones.

  I looked like I hadn't eaten for days.

  And yet... my hair hadn't grown at all.

  How long has it been?

  I traced the reflection, as if touching it would make things clearer.

  What is happening to me?

  I tore my gaze away. It didn't matter.

  I inhaled sharply. The air smelled clean here. Fresh. A faint fragrance lingered-something calming, almost nostalgic, but I couldn't place it.

  I undressed, tossed my clothes into the bucket, then turned the shower on.

  Cold water.

  The moment it hit my skin, I shivered.

  The sensation was too familiar.

  Saltwater.

  Wet clothes.

  The stench of rot.

  It all came rushing back.

  The ocean swallowing me.

  The suffocating weight of water in my lungs.

  The taste of bile and fear.

  I gasped.

  The air felt thick. My chest tightened. My legs gave out.

  I collapsed under the stream of water. Knees hitting the floor with a dull thud.

  My body trembled. My breath came in ragged gasps.

  Why is this happening to me?

  Why am I here?

  What did I do wrong?

  I forced myself up.

  No.

  I can't keep thinking about yesterday.

  This place is dangerous.

  That dead body yesterday made it clear.

  But what unsettled me the most wasn't the corpse.

  It was the people.

  No shock. No grief. No horror.

  They just stood there. Blank expressions.

  As if this wasn't the first time.

  As if it was normal.

  Or worse-as if they knew it would happen again.

  Which means-I'm in danger.

  I clenched my fists.

  I can fix this.

  And then-

  Fix what?

  The thought slithered into my mind, cold and mocking.

  What is there to fix?

  What do you even know?

  Is there even anything to fix?

  My breath hitched. My thoughts tangled.

  I slapped myself. Hard.

  Snap out of it.

  That girl.

  She knows something.

  No one else was smiling. No one else seemed calm.

  But she did.

  I don't know if I can trust her. But she's different from the others.

  I need to talk to her. I need answers.

  With a surge of determination, I pushed open the door and stepped out-

  Naked.

  The cold air hit my skin.

  Oh.

  A split second later, I rushed back inside, slamming the door shut.

  What the hell was that?!

  I exhaled, pressing a hand to my face. Good. No one saw that.

  There was a towel nearby-flowered and pink. Probably hers.

  It smelled amazing.

  I hesitated.

  What is this scent?

  It wasn't perfume. It wasn't floral or artificial. It was just... warm. Familiar. Safe.

  For a second, I wanted to sink into it.

  But no time for that.

  I dried off and grabbed the clothes left for me. Men's clothes.

  They had no fragrance.

  And-they fit.

  Perfectly.

  Same height. Same build. Same proportions.

  Almost like they were made for me.

  I frowned.

  But that didn't matter. Not right now.

  I stepped outside.

  The noon sun hit my skin. This time, it felt warm. Comfortable, even.

  I took in my surroundings.

  The village stretched before me-larger than I expected. Seven houses, each worn by time, their wooden walls cracked and faded. A few narrow roads, uneven and lined with patches of overgrown grass, snaked between them.

  Now that I had a moment to actually observe this place... where exactly was I?

  The air was thick, heavy. Something about it felt off. The houses were old, but that wasn't what unsettled me. No electrical lines. No streetlights. No technology at all. Had this place never advanced, or had someone erased all traces of it?

  I frowned.

  Then, something unexpected.

  A spark of excitement.

  Curiosity twisted inside me, winding tight, sharper than before. A mystery. An unknown world. Maybe even a case to solve.

  For the first time since waking up here, I wanted to know more. To piece things together.

  Excitement flickered in my chest.

  But then-

  I remembered.

  The feeling was sudden, like cold water splashing over my head.

  The waves, rising higher than 15 feet, swallowing the shore in their merciless black.

  The pitch-dark forest, shifting, alive in the silence.

  And the dead body.

  My stomach twisted. My breath hitched.

  The excitement was gone, snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

  This wasn't a puzzle in some detective novel. No neatly wrapped ending.

  This was real. And that changed everything.

  The air carried a strange mix of scents-earthy dampness, the faint sting of smoke, and something warm. Savory.

  Food.

  It was coming from the longhouse nearby. A communal hall? So they all eat together.

  My eyes scanned the area, searching.

  And then-I saw her.

  For the first time, I saw her clearly.

  Brown eyes - warm and deep, like earth after rain. They seemed to catch the sunlight, soft and golden, turning her gaze into something that lingered - something that held you. Her hair, dark and smooth, spilled down her back in a loose braid, with stray strands curling gently around her face. It framed her features in a way that made her look both delicate and strong - like someone who knew how to smile through storms.

  She wasn't striking in the way that turns heads on crowded streets - no sharp angles, no exaggerated curves - but there was something else. Something quieter.

  Her figure was slender but not frail, her shape graceful yet grounded. The way she moved, like the wind playing over calm waters, made it impossible not to watch her. Her skin, sun-kissed and smooth, seemed to glow in the light - not with brilliance, but with warmth. A warmth that felt safe. Familiar.

  What is she?

  It felt like I was seeing a woman for the first time - not just looking, but seeing.

  I've known beautiful women before - the kind that steal your breath in an instant. But this was different. She wasn't just beautiful - she was... pleasant. Easy to look at, yet impossible to turn away from.

  Like staring at still water on a quiet morning - the kind of stillness that makes you forget the world was ever loud.

  I was still caught in that thought when she spoke.

  "You look good," she said, her voice soft yet certain - a voice that felt like a hand on your shoulder, steadying you before you even knew you were falling.

  I blinked.

  "Are you feeling better now?"

  I nodded.

  She laughed. "Boy, are those cheeks hollow! Ha! Let's get you something to eat."

  Before I could respond, she grabbed my hand and pulled me along.

  I frowned. Do you really have to do that? I can just follow you, you know.

  But I didn't say it. Obviously.

  I couldn't remember the last time I held a girl's hand.

  It felt strange. Soft and squishy.

  By the time we reached the longhouse, the scent of fresh bread and soup filled the air.

  Nothing fancy. Just as she said.

  But to me, it smelled delicious.

  Inside, I noticed a single woman serving food. The cook, maybe?

  The girl led me to a table.

  "Sit here. I'll get you food."

  And with that, she walked off.

  I sat, scanning the room.

  I didn't know her name. I didn't know anyone's name.

  People glanced at me for a second, then returned to their meals.

  Soon, she returned with a plate-bread and soup.

  Before eating, she prayed.

  It was almost funny-praying in a place like this.

  When she finished, she looked at me.

  "What's your name?"

  I hesitated. Just for a second.

  "Black."

  Her head tilted. "Black?"

  "Yeah. Black."

  She frowned. "That's it? Your full name is just... Black?"

  "Yeah. That's all."

  I was about to ask her name when her expression shifted.

  The smile - the one that had felt so warm, so easy - was gone.

  For the first time, she wasn't smiling.

  I followed her gaze.

  In the distance - a figure.

  A man.

  Why does he look... familiar?

  Have I seen him before?

  Do I know him?

  No.

  Wait - his clothes.

  Am I wearing his clothes?

  He looked like me. Too much like me. Same build. Same height. Same frame.

  What the hell.

  He didn't look at me. Didn't even acknowledge me.

  I stared, my thoughts racing, tumbling over one another.

  And then -

  "I'm Grace."

  I turned back to her.

  "What?"

  She smiled again. That warm, gentle smile - like nothing had happened.

  "My name. It's Grace."

  But I barely heard her. My eyes were back on him.

  This time, he looked up.

  And he saw me.

  Maybe the others couldn't tell - my hollow cheeks, the bruises, the way I looked now - maybe that was enough to throw them off.

  But he knew.

  When his eyes met mine -

  He smiled.

  Not just any smile. A knowing smile. A practiced one - the kind I'd learned to wear when I was lying, bluffing, or forcing myself to look calm when my stomach was in knots.

  The corners of his mouth curled just enough - like a quiet dare. Like he was telling me, I know what you're thinking.

  And in that instant, I knew -

  We weren't just similar.

  We were the same.

  That smile told me that.