**Author's thought**
Sorry for the previous mess up. I had accidentally posted a chapter from the future. Do support my work and tell me what you feel for the story in comments.
And thank you for reading till here. Please enjoy!
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Knock! Knock!
Markiv rapped on the door twice and waited. He was wearing a mismatched pair of a t-shirt and trousers he had grabbed off the balcony of some house. They were tight and uncomfortable, but infinitely better than roaming around naked.
The air was thick with the musty scent of mold wafting up from the wooden staircase beneath his feet. Each creak of the old boards sent shivers down to him, a constant reminder of their precarious state. The dilapidated state of the house puzzled him. Who would willingly live here? Yet, his own circumstances argued against questioning anyone's choice of shelter.
His brows furrowed as silence stretched from the other side of the door.
"Atis?" he called out, his voice low yet urgent.
Still no answer.
Instinctively grabbing the doorknob, he twisted it carefully. To his surprise, it opened without resistance.
He stepped inside, cautious, his senses on high alert. The room before him was as bare as a hermit's dwelling. A simple cupboard, a single bed, and a plain desk with a chair were the only furnishings. No signs of luxury or personal touch. It was as if the occupant had stripped life down to its essentials.
Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the desk in a soft glow. There was no one inside. Not even the shadow of anyone.
He was bewildered. Where is she?
But a glance at the clock on the desk reassured him. 8:00 AM. She must have left for college, he thought, letting out a small sigh of relief.
Collapsing onto the bed, Markiv tried to calm his restless thoughts. For the first time since waking up the previous night, he found a moment of stillness. Yet, with that calm came questions—questions he had avoided in the urgency of his escape.
What had happened to him?
The memories flooding his mind last night felt incomplete, riddled with gaps and contradictions. And within those gaps, the most troubling mystery lay: what happened after he had visited his sister's place? The last thing he remembered was coming here to visit her before her new semester began. Yet, how had that visit led him to waking up naked on a deserted street under the crimson moonlight?
As his mind churned, his eyes fell on the desk. A small, worn diary lay open in the center, almost beckoning him. He hesitated before moving to the desk, pulling the chair closer. He picked the diary up and flipped through its pages until he reached the last entry.
16/03.
That was two weeks after the day he remembered. His brows knit together as he turned back to the date burned into his fragmented memory.
01/03
"The new semester started today. I'm happy to see Sir Yohan Kant's lectures on my schedule. He has a strange way of pulling people into his stories. I wonder why he became a teacher?
Oh, speaking of teachers—Brother said he would visit tonight. I'll tell him then about my plans to go to the capital and become one. I hope he takes it well."
Markiv clenched the diary tightly as he read on.
02/03
"Something is wrong with Brother. There's definitely something wrong. He came last night all stiff and strange. At first, everything was fine, but then he started mumbling: 'None's left... all gone.'
Then he grabbed my hand, his eyes burning with something I didn't understand, and said: 'It's all your fault.'
What is my fault? I don't know. I was terrified, but after a while, he calmed down and everything seemed normal.
Did he do needles? His roommates are garbage—I've heard rumors about them. He even muttered in his sleep: 'I see the stars. Mother? Father?'
He must be exhausted from work. I'll help him once I become a teacher."
Markiv felt a chill run through him as he turned the page. Despite the deep seated foreboding urging him not to.
03/03
"Brother went missing. I don't know what happened. It's as if my memories of last night were wiped clean. I have a bad feeling. Where are you, Brother?"
Markiv slammed the diary shut, leaning back in the chair. His head felt heavy, weighed down by an unease he couldn't shake. His foot tapped rhythmically against the floor, a nervous tic he couldn't control.
What exactly happened to me?
The question looped in his mind, yet he knew that the answer lay beyond his grasp. He clutched his head, the faint sound of ringing echoing inside his ears. Growing louder and louder. Tiredness crept over him, like a lullaby sung by a presence, unseen.
"Let me sleep a bit…" he muttered, his voice barely audible as his body relaxed against the chair.
And just as he was about to drift off—
Knock! Knock!
His eyes snapped open, his body stiffening as he turned toward the door.
"Atis?" he whispered, half-hopeful, half-dreading.
Rising from the chair, he moved to the door, his hand outstretched to grasp the knob. Yet, for some reason, he froze.
A chilling sense of déjà vu washed over him.