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Shiver Line

🇮🇳TheChosenOne2
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Chapter 1 - Part 1

Victor Morrow woke up at 6:00 AM, like he always did. The sound of the alarm was a familiar hum that reverberated through his skull, a reminder that the day was about to begin, whether he was ready for it or not. He reached over and slapped the snooze button. Another five minutes. That was all he needed.

It was a routine, a comfortable one. The kind of life that people like him aspired to: predictable, safe, secure. He had a wife, two kids, and a house in the suburbs. A job that paid the bills. He could count on his job. It had its fair share of stress, but it was nothing that couldn't be dealt with. It was the kind of work that didn't demand much from you, but it was reliable. The office had a strict hierarchy, and he had been there long enough to have figured it out. He kept his head down, avoided conflict, and did what was expected.

But this morning, something felt different. Something was off.

Victor sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. His wife, Karen, was still asleep beside him, her steady breathing the only sound in the room. He watched her for a moment, the way the sunlight from the window caught in her hair, the way her face softened in sleep. She had always been beautiful to him, but there was something distant in the way he looked at her now. It wasn't that he didn't love her—he did, in his own way—but it felt like a fog had settled between them. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but it was there, hanging in the air.

He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a man who looked like he was still in his thirties, though he felt older. His hair was starting to thin, and his once youthful face had begun to show the signs of age—fine lines around the eyes, the faintest hint of a sagging jawline. He splashed cold water on his face and looked at his reflection.

Is this all there is?

The thought was sudden, unexpected, and it lingered longer than it should have. Victor stared at himself for a moment longer, as if expecting the answer to come from the man in the mirror.

But there was no answer. Just the same tired eyes, the same empty gaze.

He dried his face and dressed quickly, donning his usual gray suit and tie. He didn't need to think about it anymore. This was his life. It wasn't thrilling, but it was stable. It was… safe.

By the time Victor finished his morning routine, Karen was up, preparing breakfast for the kids. The aroma of bacon and eggs filled the house as he sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone. He had a few emails to respond to, but nothing that demanded his immediate attention.

His son, Nathan, was already eating at the table, his attention buried in a video game on his phone. Nathan was a typical 16-year-old—quiet, distracted, and moody at times, but otherwise harmless. His daughter, Emily, was sitting next to him, coloring in one of her books. She was 12, and though she had a tendency to act older than her years, there was still an innocence to her that made her seem younger.

Victor watched them as they went about their morning routine, the hum of family life surrounding him. He felt a pang of something—guilt, maybe? Or regret? But he quickly pushed it aside. This was what he had always wanted. A family. A home. A career.

But even as he thought that, a dark thought flickered in his mind.

What if it wasn't enough?

He stood up and excused himself, grabbing his keys and heading out the door. He kissed Karen on the cheek as he left, but she didn't look up from her phone. Her attention was elsewhere, absorbed in whatever text or message she was reading.

Victor's commute to work was uneventful. The streets were quiet, the traffic light. The familiar rhythm of his drive was almost hypnotic, the sound of the engine, the hum of the tires on the asphalt. It was a time for him to think—or rather, not think. His mind was often empty during these drives, a brief reprieve from the mundane routine of his day-to-day life.

But today, his mind wandered. It drifted to the thought he'd had earlier, the one that had nagged at him when he looked in the mirror. Is this all there is?

Victor had never been an ambitious man. He didn't dream of grand accomplishments or wealth. He didn't yearn for fame. All he had ever wanted was a simple life, a quiet life. But lately, the silence in his life had begun to feel oppressive. Like a weight on his chest that he couldn't shake off.

When he arrived at the office, he was greeted by his secretary, Karen (another Karen, he couldn't help but note), who gave him a bright smile. She handed him a cup of coffee and a stack of papers to sign. Victor gave her a polite nod and walked to his desk, where he began to sift through the documents.

It was all very routine. The same numbers. The same spreadsheets. The same meetings. Nothing stood out. Nothing made him feel alive.

And then, he saw the article.

It was a news story, buried in the local section. A woman had gone missing. It wasn't the first time. Missing persons, especially women, seemed to be a recurring theme in the local news, though they rarely amounted to much. But this time was different. There was something about the woman's face in the photo, something that made Victor pause.

Her eyes. They were wide and terrified, and yet there was something almost *inviting* about them. As if she were pleading for someone to notice her. To see her.

Victor felt a stir of unease in his stomach, something he couldn't quite place. He read the article, then read it again. The woman had been last seen walking near a park at night. No witnesses. No leads. She had just vanished.

And as he read, the strangest sensation washed over him. *What if I could find her?* The thought was so sudden, so intrusive, that Victor almost stopped reading altogether. He shook his head, dismissing it as nonsense.

But the thought lingered, and as he sat at his desk, it began to gnaw at him. What if he could solve it? What if he could be the one to uncover the truth behind these disappearances?

Victor wasn't sure where the thought came from, but as the hours dragged on, it refused to leave him. It wasn't just curiosity. It was something deeper, something darker that stirred within him.

That evening, after a long day at work, Victor couldn't shake the feeling. He had driven by the park where the woman had gone missing, but there was nothing unusual about it. It was a quiet area, the kind of place where families went to relax. Nothing out of the ordinary, and yet, something felt wrong. He hadn't even meant to go there, but his hands had steered the wheel anyway.

The park was empty now, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights. There was something eerie about it, something that made Victor's skin prickle. He stepped out of the car, his footsteps muted on the grass.

For a moment, he simply stood there, listening to the wind rustling through the trees. The place was peaceful, but in his mind, it had become something else—something darker.

He had been following the story for days now, reading about the missing woman, about the strange patterns in the disappearances. Something wasn't right, he felt it in his bones. But more than that, he realized he was searching for something. The missing pieces of his own life, perhaps.

He wasn't sure what would happen next. But the pull of the unknown, the sense of something lurking just beneath the surface, was too strong. Victor wasn't just looking for answers anymore. He was searching for a way to break free from the life that had started to suffocate him.