Mike — "99! Why am I back here?! What just happened?! Was it a dream? Was it a nightmare? Huh?!"
He stood there, frozen in front of the door, staring at it in bewilderment. Fear, doubt, confusion… Fear! Doubt! Confusion!
Those feelings were taking over him. His breathing was ragged.
Mike — "Why! Why? Why!"
Voice? — "Re—sis—t… I kn—ow what this mean—s for… but you have to—!"
He didn't seem to be listening—but was he even hearing it?
「Why! Why? Why!」
His head was pounding louder and louder, the only thing he perceived was a shrill jumble of noise that amplified his mental state. The more he heard it, the more his head hurt. The more it hurt, the louder the noise grew. A vicious cycle!
He curled up, covering his ears.
「Why! Why! Why!」
One might have thought he was overreacting for nothing. But he was truly shaken—hurt—deep within his being.
His being?
Deep down… who even was he?
A simple young man lost in a place he didn't know?
Without any clear reason?
Forced to endure, without knowing why he was here.
But what he had just seen awakened far too many memories for his current self—memories he would have preferred to forget.
Forget? Yet he had forgotten everything upon arriving in this world.
「Why remind me of this! Why! Why!」
Voice? — "CALM DOWN!"
With this shout echoing inside his head, everything became clear and silent again. The noise vanished, the headache faded… without disappearing entirely. The flow of thoughts had been cut off abruptly, as if a dam had slammed down inside his mind with a violent crash.
Mike — "Thanks… I'll rest a bit…"
Calmly, he set his bag down and sat with his back against the door.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Time still not being perceivable… he eventually got back on his feet after a long moment spent staring into the void.
「What do I do now… Do I go back in?」
He looked at the door with hesitation. He would've liked to stay there, sitting. But that choice wasn't his to make. He had to keep moving.
He pushed the door open. Nothing had changed; everything was frozen just like the first time—and just like that time, the door closed and vanished behind him.
Mike — "Again… I don't like this place."
He slowly stepped toward the apartment where he had seen the silhouette, then entered more easily than the last time.
He was unfortunately starting to get used to squeezing through all sorts of places.
「What is that… Why is this here?」
On the table, a stack of envelopes was visible.
He stared at them in surprise, then approached.
Mike — "Whose are these?"
The names on the envelopes were unreadable, but the recipient—and the reason they were here—slowly resurfaced in his mind.
He knew who they belonged to. And why…
Voice? — "These are your parents' old bills, aren't they?"
Mike — "Yeah… that's them. The unpaid ones… The charges… The debts… and the one full of threats I never understood."
As he reached out, the envelopes fell and scattered across the floor… even though his hands hadn't touched them yet.
Mike — "What's happening?! I didn't even touch them…"
He bent down to pick them up. But his hands passed straight through. Impossible to grab, impossible to touch. A frustration unlike anything he'd felt surged up.
Voice? — "Calm down, these are just memories. That's why you can't do anything to them…"
He had no choice but to endure and simply watch them, lying on the ground, silently?
Dri—Dring
A regular noise broke the silence.
Mike — "A ringing? Here?"
Metallic, slightly shrill.
Dring Dring
It came closer. He frantically looked around… but nothing. No device, no object.
Mike — "Where is it coming from?!"
DRING DRING
With a dry, clear, slightly vibrating tone, an object began to manifest.
Voice? — "There, on the table!"
Mike — "A phone!"
What looked like a phone—a landline phone, to be precise—was now visible to Mike. A basic object, common to nearly every apartment.
DRING DRING… DRING DRING!
Each ring lasted about a second, followed by a brief silence before resuming louder than before.
「Should I answer? I probably have to for this to continue… But maybe if I don't, all of this will stop?」
He still reached out to pick up the receiver, but his hand went right through it.
Voice? — "Again! This is ridiculous…"
Dri—iiiiiiiiiiiii—
The ringing stopped abruptly, replaced by a new shrill sound. Then came a man's voice—twenties? Thirties? Forties? That detail didn't matter.
Man on the phone — "Khh… khhrr… Hello Mr. and Mrs. "__", as usual, you're not answering. Khh… This is really exasperating and tiring haha. You owe us money. You promised that if we gave you more time, you would pay, and yet you keep running away? Huh? Khh… I'll end up sending my men. You know, the ones who always get back what's owed to me. You live at"__" on "___" Street, right? Easy to find. Even a bounty hunter with terrible sense of direction could find it. khhrr… I know your child isn't your greatest pride, but be careful with him, something bad could happen to him. Hahaha Beep beep be—"
With a few final beeps, the message ended.
Mike slowly stepped back… gripping his knife tightly.
Mike — "What was that?!"
He barely had time to ask the question before the silhouette reappeared, staring directly at him.
Mother? — "So you heard everything… Why didn't you keep walking? You should never have known! Never!"
The silhouette gestured wildly, speaking sharply.
Mother? — "Look at the floor! I told you never to touch the mail, it's not for you! Unless you can pay for all that? Anyway, it's your father's fault! He never did anything! He was never here! Never!"
Each word was raw, harsh, cold, devoid of compassion—the lack of love was obvious. You could practically feel it from miles away.
She approached, continuing her tirade.
Voice? — "Stay calm. Don't worry, she can't hurt you."
Mike — "Yeah… Thanks, it's hard… but—"
He inhaled slowly, trying not to be swept away by the intense emotions rising within him.
Mother? — "Talking to yourself again? Did I really give birth to a lunatic? No, that's impossible! This should never have happened. Never!"
Just like with the armor earlier… she couldn't hear the voice? Was it because she was just a memory?
Either way, Mike was still the only one who could hear it.
Mother? — "Useless? Lazy? Since the day you were born, I've taken care of you! Ten years taking care of you for nothing? For you to talk to yourself? For you to—"
Mike — "Huh."
Her words echoed in his mind. But one sentence grabbed his attention more than the rest.
「Ten years? But I'm sixteen…」
He was strangely certain of it. Even though he didn't know why, the information resurfaced—along with a returning headache.
So why was she giving him a lower age? In the end, wasn't this just an image from the past? A distorted memory? A buried echo?
In a moment of inattention, she touched him. Grabbed his left arm.
But she wasn't supposed to be able to…
Mother? — "Better to end it. That way, I'll never have to suffer again. Never!"
A shadowy knife appeared in the silhouette's right hand, ready to swing down toward Mike.
??? — "HEH You're letting it happen again! We already did it once! We can do it again, right?!"
Another voice echoed in his head, and from that moment on, he no longer controlled his body.
「What was that… My body! No!」
The knife in his hand plunged into the silhouette's chest.
??? — "HEHEHEHEH"
Mike's knife then stabbed into the silhouette's right leg.
Mother? — "AHHHH!"
She stabbed her own knife into Mike's neck—but it caused him no harm. Meanwhile, Mike's body continued stabbing.
Again! And again! More and more blows, violent and uncontrollable. All aimed at the silhouette.
Hands! Legs! Arms! Feet! Torso! Every limb was pierced with stab wounds—but none of the vital spots were targeted.
「What is this? No! What's happening, damn it!」
When he regained control of his body, he could only fall to his knees.
Mike — "___"
Unable to understand. Unable to utter anything but the same words, over and over…
Mike — "NO! I didn't kill her?! It wasn't me… It wasn't me… It wasn't… me…"
Images of his mother flashed through his mind.
One day she smiled, the next she hit him, the next she cried… and the cycle repeated.
Smile, hit, cry.
Hit, smile, cry.
Cry, smile, hit.
Smile while hitting, then cry.
Smile, then hit while crying.
Cry-laugh while hitting.
Hit until crying.
His traumas resurfaced. Tears streamed down his face.
An immeasurable sadness crushed him.
He blinked heavily under the weight of the tears.
And suddenly… he was in front of a door again.
Mike — "98…"