"You aren't supposed to be here, are you?"

The voice comes through the door, full of menace. Your knees tremble, hand still stuck on the doorknob in fear.

"I'll take your silence as a yes."

Terror makes your vision wobble and your head grow light. His voice sounds slightly strained, as if he's masking his real one.

"Who are you?"

You swallow, unable to answer the question. You feel mentally crippled. Sure, you might reboot after this, but... the butterfly isn't anywhere to be seen.

"Are you going to answer me, or are you going to stay quiet?"

Your dry throat wants to scream, but you manage. "Who are you?"

The man is silent for a moment, as if contemplating on how to answer.

"A friend."

You hold tighter to the knob. "Of whom?"

"Karika."

Tingles erupt all over your body at his response. Maybe... if you...

"Me too," you tell him, voice hoarse. Could this intruder really be her friend? Or perhaps an acquaintance? Does he mean friend as in buddies, or friend as in he's on the same side as her?

"You were the one who removed the art off the wall."

It's a statement, not a question.

Guiltily, you answer. "Yes."

"Do you intend to harm her?"

Shocked at the question, you shake your head. "No. I was just looking for answers."

There's a short silence. Then, "You should think twice about searching for answers about Karika."

You can feel your hand sweating against the knob's metal, but you refuse to let go. It almost feels like a lifeline. It's almost like if you let go, you'll be powerless. It's the only thing keeping him out there and you in here. You don't know if that means you're safe, but it feels better in this room. You don't want to see his face—you don't want to make him real.

"Why is that?" you press.

"Because some secrets are deadly."

Your heart pounds in your ears. That's exactly what Oliver had told you. Swallowing your fear, you speak again.

"Who are you?"

He hesitates. "Someone you shouldn't get mixed up with."

You bite your lip. What does he mean by that?

"If you get that safe open, don't let Karika know. Don't leave your fingerprints on any documents, don't tell her you were here... Definitely don't tell her I was here."

"Why?"

You hear him shift on the other side of the door.

"If I were you, I'd stop questioning everything," he says. "You won't like the answers you receive."

You furrow your brow. "Why do you care?"

He scoffs. "Not all criminals are heartless."

Frowning, you relax a bit, your hand falling off the knob.

"So you're a criminal."

"Ninety-nine percent."

"And the other one?" You ask, pressing the button behind the dresser. Luckily, it's within your reach.

A piece of the wall to your right opens and reveals a tiny gun resembling the one Karika carries in her cleavage. You reach for it, the man taking a while to answer. When he finally does speak, it startles you.

"The other one-percent is a genius."

You're thrown off by the joking words. For all he knows, you could be a murderer ready to kill him. You could be tricking him. The same goes the other way around.

You take the gun in one hand and bring it closer to you, watching the doorknob the entire time. No movement. If he decides to come in, he'll have to face you. But... you don't really know how to use a gun. Cock it and shoot, sure, but... that can't be all.

"Five, one, three, seven," he says out of the blue in the deep tone of his.

"What?" you croak.

"Five, one, three, seven. If you honestly believe you can stomach what's in that vault, those are the numbers to open it up. Don't leave your fingerprints on any documents, and if she asks you what you know... lie."

You're speechless. What just happened?

"I'm leaving now. Make sure you lock the door before you leave, and I recommend not going through the front just in case someone who knows her walks by and alerts her. You don't want to make her or her friends your enemy."

Those words echo inside of you like the sounding of a gong. That settles it. Karika is dangerous.

"This town may seem small, but you have no idea how thick the darkness is that lingers around here."

"Why are you telling me all this?" you ask, clutching the small gun.

There's a moment's hesitation at your question.

"Because I'm the root of the problem."

An odd chill takes you over as he releases the knob. After a breath, you reach forward and fling it open. No one is there.

Stepping out into the living room, it's like he was never even here, aside from the curtain blowing in the breeze of an open window.

~

A shudder washes through you as you pull the painting away from the wall once again, overly-aware of every sound in the house. You hadn't closed the window for reasons unknown to you, but you're glad you can hear what's going on outside, too.

With hesitant fingers, you type in the code the man gave you. Five, one, three, seven. The lock clicks and you take a deep breath.

The door reveals a deep cavity in the wall, ducking down as deep and high as you are tall. Stacks of money fill most of the space below, while the shelf up top holds stacks of papers and some more ammo. You reach for the papers as the man's words come back to you.

Don't leave your fingerprints on any documents...

You shudder, biting your tongue. You open Karika's dresser drawers one by one, looking for a pair of gloves, and then find some. Slipping them on, you see they're a bit small for your fingers, but they'll do.

You reach for the first stack of documents when you hear the front door unlock.

Heart in your throat, you kick yourself for not being faster, and place the stack back where they belong. You shut the panel door quietly as voices sneak under the front door, ones you recognize. The painting finally goes back onto its spot and you dart out into the living room just as the door is opening and practically fall out the window, getting a face-full of dirt and grass.

You hear one of the voices shouting at 'whoever is there,' knowing he'll catch up to you. None of them have realized it's you yet, but you need to go.

You sprint off in the opposite direction you believe Peter's headed and dart around a store close by. He'll catch up with you. He's tall.

You book it to the cemetery against your better judgement and run into the trees. Remembering the bridge you'd seen in the last reboot, you turn in that direction. Keeping your path random but aimed toward the same destination, you try to lose him on foot with agility rather than speed.

Winded, you slip under the bridge just as you come out of the trees, your body uncomfortably warm in the thick sweater he'd purchased for you. You sit down, breathing heavily as you fight the urge to check and see if he followed you beneath.

Heavy footsteps break from the trees and over the bridge, stopping just above where you sit below. The river isn't too loud as it calmly moves beside you, you realize, because you overhear him talking on the phone.

"Karika," he says, breathing heavily. "I'm at the bridge."

You close your eyes as you try to focus on Peter's words, your brain freaking out at his nearness. If he finds you... What then?

"Yeah. Whoever it was is long gone. I couldn't catch up to them; I tripped when I was running through the trees."

A pang of guilt finds you, but you push it down. They can't know it was you.

"Are you sure it wasn't Cora?"

The mention of your name makes your body tense.

"I guess you're right..." he sighs. "Where do you think she is? Do you think she's okay?"

Your heart clenches at his worry.

"Okay. I'm headed back. I think her phone is off or dead... I'll keep trying to reach her until we figure something out."

You hear him sigh again. It takes him a minute to finally pad back down the bridge and back into town, away from you.

You let out the biggest sigh ever and lay back against the ground, your chest heaving as you let out a string of coughs, the cold making your throat prickly. Even though you don't have your memory, you're sure your life had never been this exciting before.

Sarcasm.

A butterfly darts under the bridge, the clear part of its wings nearly making your brain skip over it. Your eyes follow it as it flutters above your exhausted body, worry choking you.

"That was close."

You sit upright, head getting dizzy from the sudden elevation.

You can see the profile of someone right outside the tunnel, but he ducks back behind it with a smirk and a small laugh. Something about that profile, that quiet laugh... They're familiar.

"You're the guy—"

"That, I am," he says in his deep voice. It's somewhat strained out here, as if that isn't his actual voice. So he has been masking it. Why?

"Do I know you?" you ask.

"You could say we've been acquainted," he says as you stand to walk over to him. "Don't come any closer to me or I won't entertain you with answers."

You stop your feet from moving, pulling your hand to your chest. You realize you'd left the gun behind when you jumped out the window and you scold yourself.

"You opened it, didn't you?" he asks.

"I did," you tell him honestly.

"Did you see what was inside?"

You shrug. "Cash and ammunition. I didn't have time to read the documents."

"Mmm," he says. "Too bad. Maybe next time."

"Next time?" you ask, but there's not a single response from the mysterious stranger. He'd said the two of you had been acquainted. That'd explain why he looked so familiar at first glance, but you really only saw his silhouette. The only problem is you've met very few people this reboot. Karika, Peter, Chris, Oliver, and Nick. Peter was with Karika. Chris was probably with her too because they'd all been at the shop together when you left. That leaves Oliver and Nick, but Nick doesn't seem like the type to do this... does he? Neither does Oliver...

But then again, you don't know them very well.

You frown as you step around the bend and see no one there. Anger swells within you.

You sigh and sit again, your muscles protesting your need to leave this place.

Reminding yourself the goons would be out in these trees tomorrow and not today, you stalk your way back up toward the cemetery and onto the road. It's evening now, the temperatures dropping slightly. You're definitely glad you have this sweater on instead of the tank top Karika had given you in the last reboot as a gust of wind whips your hair around and you shiver. Your body really isn't built for the cold.

Stepping into the cafe that Chris had taken you before, you slip into a booth and turn your phone on. It goes crazy with texts from Karika and Chris, the majority of them from Peter. Eight voicemails from him and double that in missed calls. You guess you could see why they'd be worried, especially since you disappeared on them so suddenly.

Your thumb hovers over their texts as a war rages in your mind. Did you really want to return back into their lives, or did you want to distance yourself from them?

Your heart sinks as you remember Karika said you can't leave the town. Plus, you've already seen the butterfly.

You bury your face into your knees as you bring them up to your chest. You feel so weak, so... helpless. Sighing, you finally answer Peter.

The second after you hit send, Peter's name flashes across the screen. With a heavy sigh, you answer it.

"Hey," you say on a breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You're about to have to pretend like everything is okay and that you didn't, in fact, see a severed finger in Karika's kitchen.

"I'm glad you're okay," you hear him say. It sounds so casual, as if he hadn't been calling you like crazy. If you knew better, you'd think you were only acquainted.

The word brings back the stranger's voice and you bite your lip.

"Sorry for worrying you," you apologize, keeping your voice quiet in the nearly empty cafe.

"Did you listen to my voicemails?"

You shake your head. "I just now was able to turn my phone back on."

At least that isn't a lie.

Peter exhales quietly. "Well. Karika's house got broken into. They didn't take anything, but—"

He stops abruptly, a murmuring in the background.

There's a pause before he speaks again into the phone. "Karika thought it was you who broke in, but—"

"Peter!" you hear in the background. The sound of Karika's voice chastising him makes your vision blurry as you place your head on your knees.

Peter doesn't respond to her.

"But I pursued whoever it was and couldn't find them. Karika told me to chase the intruder to the border of the town and if they crossed it, then she was certain it wasn't you."

A chill grazes your skin. You were at the border? Could that explain the butterfly you saw under the bridge? Could it have been a warning that an ending was coming?

"Why is that?" you ask, your voice hoarse as you try to go along with it. You know exactly why—she'd told you. You can't leave this town.

You can't run from the reality of the situation that you might just die over and over for reasons unbeknownst to you.

"She hasn't given me a definite answer yet, but she might tell me if I try harder."

"That's okay," you breathe. "You don't need to know. It's an amnesia thing."

Peter pauses, probably frowning at your choice of words. "What a strange thing to say," he mutters. You can almost see him looking back at Karika with accusations in his eyes. "Where are you?"

Your eyes flutter, the exhaustion finally hitting you as the sun dips lower in the sky. The day is almost over. Where will you sleep?

"I texted you," you say. "I'm at that cafe near Karika's shop."

"Hm," he huffs quietly. "We checked there..."

"I came here when I was done walking," you lie through your teeth. "I thought maybe I'd find a spare chord and that maybe my phone was just dead."

You bounce your leg as you sit crisscross on the seat, nerves eating away at you.

"Alright. Stay there. I'll see you in a minute."

With that, he hangs up and your stomach twists inside you. You place your arms on the table before you and bury your head in them, a stray tear falling to your jeans and darkening them.

I'm trapped here, aren't I?

A minute later, you feel something warm beside you, startling you from your almost-nap. You sit upright and your eyes meet the dark blue irises of Peter. He's close to you as he lifts his hands to touch your face, searching for something that would tell him that you really aren't alright.

Seeing him brings the terrible feelings back and a hand flies to your mouth as his fall away, tears blurring your vision as you choke on a sob. His eyes tell of his surprise and he wraps you in his arms, your free hand clutching the loose fabric of your shirt as you try to keep it all in. You can't lose your composure. Not... Not again.

"What's the matter?" he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. You shake your head and try to pull away but he holds you closer. "It's okay, I promise. I know what you're going through is scary; it was terrifying for Karika, too. Don't be afraid to show it around us. Whether or not we know you well, you can trust us. We're your friends now."

Trust. Friends. Two words that send shocks through your body that are bittersweet. They've been nothing but kind to you, but... there are so many secrets you've yet to uncover, both in your mystery of a life and these people's. How are the other people in the group tied in with Karika, including the mysterious man you had the pleasure to speak to? What is Karika involved in, and are you in danger because of it? Is Peter? Chris? Karika?

You close your eyes and another tears slips out, Peter's embrace warm and comforting, but there are spikes of fear that prick your brain, drawing warnings like blood. You want to run, to get away from all of this forever.

But you can't.

You're stuck.

And now you know there's something off, you have to tiptoe around the truth.