Chapter 7: The Other Me
The note was still warm.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The paper lying on the hospital bed wasn’t old.
It wasn’t some forgotten document from thirty years ago.
It had just been printed.
Just written.
Just placed there.
By someone.
By me.
The handwriting was mine.
The words were mine.
But the message was from someone I had never met.
"If you are reading this, it means I lost."
I stared at the sentence until my eyes hurt.
A strange feeling crawled through my body.
Not fear.
Something worse.
Recognition.
Like some part of me already knew what this meant.
I flipped the paper over.
Nothing.
No date.
No signature.
Only one sentence on the back.
"Do not trust Daniel Carter."
My breathing stopped.
Because just seconds earlier, Daniel was the only person trying to explain what happened.
The only person admitting the truth.
The only person who seemed to regret what he had done.
But now…
My own handwriting was warning me about him.
A sound came from behind me.
I turned quickly.
Nothing.
Room 214 was empty.
The lights flickered above.
The old machines beside the bed were still running.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
But there was no patient.
No doctor.
No nurse.
Only me.
I walked toward the door.
I grabbed the handle.
It didn’t move.
Locked.
I pulled harder.
Nothing.
“Open!”
My voice echoed through the room.
No response.
I looked through the small glass window on the door.
The hallway was empty.
But something was wrong.
The clock outside the room had stopped.
The second hand wasn’t moving.
It showed:
4:00 A.M.
I checked my phone.
The screen was black.
Dead.
Impossible.
It had been fully charged.
I looked back at the room.
The computer monitor turned on.
A message appeared.
MEMORY RESTORATION IN PROGRESS.
I stepped away.
“No.”
The screen changed.
REMAIN STILL.
I laughed nervously.
“Very funny.”
Then another message appeared.
YOU HAVE DONE THIS BEFORE.
My smile disappeared.
A sharp pain suddenly hit my head.
I grabbed the edge of the bed.
Images exploded into my mind.
A hallway.
A little girl.
A machine.
A voice.
“Subject One is responding.”
Another voice.
“Begin memory suppression.”
A scream.
My scream.
I fell to my knees.
Then I heard someone whisper.
“Don’t remember.”
I looked up.
A little girl was standing near the corner of the room.
Around eight years old.
Wearing a hospital gown.
Long dark hair.
Pale face.
I knew her immediately.
Elizabeth.
Except this wasn’t the older woman from the CCTV.
This was the child.
The child from my memories.
She looked at me sadly.
“You weren’t supposed to wake up.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Are you real?”
She tilted her head.
“That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Which one of us you mean.”
The lights flickered.
She disappeared.
Then appeared closer.
Standing beside the bed.
I backed away.
“Who are you?”
She looked hurt.
“You really don’t remember me?”
A memory returned.
A hospital room.
Two children sitting together.
Me.
And Elizabeth.
She was holding a toy rabbit.
She gave it to me.
“Keep it.”
“Why?”
“Because if I disappear, someone needs to remember me.”
I shook my head.
“No…”
Elizabeth looked at me.
“You promised.”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“You promised you would come back.”
The room suddenly changed.
The walls disappeared.
For a second, I wasn’t inside Room 214.
I was somewhere else.
A laboratory.
Doctors behind glass.
A young Daniel Carter screaming at them.
“Stop the procedure!”
Thomas Reed standing beside a machine.
A child lying inside.
Me.
And Elizabeth.
The little girl wasn’t just watching.
She was connected.
The machine had two tubes.
Two heart monitors.
Two lives.
Then a doctor spoke.
“Separation failed.”
Thomas answered:
“Then combine them.”
My blood went cold.
“No…”
The memory continued.
The doctor hesitated.
“You mean merge them?”
Thomas nodded.
“They are compatible.”
Daniel shouted:
“She’s my daughter!”
Thomas looked at him.
“If we don’t do this, both children die.”
The memory stopped.
I returned to Room 214.
Elizabeth was standing in front of me.
“You know now.”
I stared.
“You and I…”
She nodded.
“We were never separated.”
A cold feeling moved through me.
“What does that mean?”
She touched my chest.
“You are carrying my memories.”
I stepped back.
“No.”
“You hear my voice.”
“No.”
“You see my past.”
I covered my ears.
“Stop.”
Elizabeth looked at me.
“And sometimes…”
She whispered:
“I see yours.”
The door suddenly unlocked.
It opened.
Mark rushed inside.
He stopped when he saw me.
“You’re okay.”
I stared.
“Where were you?”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“You disappeared.”
Mark frowned.
“I was outside the entire time.”
“No.”
I pointed around the room.
“You were gone.”
He looked at me strangely.
Then he looked at the clock.
His face changed.
“What time do you think it is?”
I frowned.
“4:00.”
Mark slowly lifted his phone.
The screen showed the time.
4:07 A.M.
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
Mark looked concerned.
“You were alone for seven minutes.”
Seven minutes.
But inside Room 214…
It felt like hours.
I looked toward the corner.
Elizabeth was gone.
Mark noticed my expression.
“What happened in here?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know what was real anymore.
Then Daniel appeared behind Mark.
His face was pale.
He was holding an old photograph.
A photograph of two children.
Me.
And Elizabeth.
Standing together outside Room 214.
I stared at it.
“That’s impossible.”
Daniel looked at me.
“No.”
His voice trembled.
“That’s the truth.”
I took the photograph.
On the back was a date.
Twenty years ago.
And underneath:
PROJECT 214 FINAL TEST
I looked at Daniel.
“Why was I in this photo?”
He swallowed.
“Because you were never a patient.”
“What?”
Daniel looked at me.
“You were part of the experiment.”
The room went silent.
“You weren’t brought here to be saved.”
My hands tightened around the photo.
“Then why?”
Daniel looked at Room 214.
“Because they needed someone who could carry Elizabeth.”
A cold wave passed through me.
“They needed a body.”
I whispered:
“A host.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
“Then what am I?”
Nobody answered.
The computer behind us suddenly printed another page.
Mark grabbed it.
His face changed.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
A new medical report.
This one was different.
It wasn’t about my past.
It was about the future.
SUBJECT 001: ORIGINAL HOST
STATUS: UNSTABLE
RECOMMENDATION: TERMINATION
I looked at the bottom.
A signature.
The person who approved my termination.
Daniel Carter.
I slowly turned around.
Daniel wasn’t looking at the paper.
He was looking at me.
And he whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Then the entire hospital went into lockdown.
Every door slammed shut.
Every light turned red.
And the emergency announcement began playing.
A voice echoed through the speakers:
“Attention.”
“Project 214 has entered final phase.”
“Subject One has been located.”
“Begin extraction.”
Then the voice added:
“Warning.”
“Subject One is resisting.”
A pause.
Then:
“Subject One has identified himself as…”
The speakers crackled.
May you like
And said my name.
End of Chapter 7
