Alaric

"Do you have any CCTV footage from the times I came here a few weeks ago?" I asked suddenly.

The two security guards exchanged uneasy looks immediately.

For a few seconds, neither of them answered me.

The older guard finally sighed softly before nodding once.

"We should still have the recordings," he admitted carefully.

My heartbeat immediately quickened. "I want to see them." I had to because whatever was happening had to be fake because there was no way Harold wasn’t with me all those times.

The younger guard looked uncertain now. His eyes briefly shifted toward the older man again like he was silently asking whether this was a good idea.

The older guard hesitated for a moment before eventually stepping aside from the gates.

"Come with us, sir."

I swallowed hard before following them inside.

The moment I stepped past the entrance, another strange wave of familiarity washed over me unexpectedly.

There was something familiar about the quiet hallways, the marble floors, and the faint scent lingering in the air.

It felt like I have been here but I don’t remember when or how I got there.

The guards led me deeper into the building while soft footsteps echoed quietly around us. A few people dressed in pale uniforms passed by occasionally, speaking softly amongst themselves before disappearing down separate hallways.

The atmosphere felt too calm, too organized not like somebody’s private house at all.

A strange pressure slowly settled inside my chest.

I kept trying to convince myself that Harold probably rented part of the building or lived somewhere inside the property.

That had to be it.

Because none of this made sense otherwise.

The guards eventually stopped outside a small security office before opening the door for me.

Several monitors covered one wall while surveillance footage played silently across the screens.

The younger guard pulled a chair out for me politely.

"Do you remember the exact date?" he asked carefully.

I shook my head immediately.

"No. But it was recent. Maybe two or three weeks ago."

The younger guard nodded before typing something into the computer.

Silence filled the room afterward except for the soft clicking of keys and the faint buzzing from the monitors overhead.

Then finally the footage appeared.

My stomach tightened instantly.

"That is my car," I muttered quietly.

The timestamp showed footage from three weeks ago.

I stared at the screen carefully while my car slowly pulled up outside the gates before parking near the exact same spot from earlier.

Then the driver’s door opened.

I stepped out.

Alone.

My eyebrows immediately pulled together.

No.

I kept staring at the screen while my chest slowly tightened.

The footage showed me walking toward the passenger side briefly before stopping halfway like I was speaking to someone sitting inside the car.

But when the camera angle shifted—

The passenger seat was empty.

Completely empty.

A cold sensation crawled slowly down my spine.

"No," I whispered immediately.

Neither guard said anything.

I continued staring at the footage desperately.

Maybe the angle was wrong.

Maybe Harold was sitting too low for the camera to catch him.

Maybe—

The older guard zoomed the footage in slightly.

The image sharpened immediately and it was just my car, myself, and nobody else.

I watched myself standing there smiling faintly at absolutely nothing before nodding like someone had just spoken to me.

Then I got back into the driver’s seat alone.

My breathing immediately turned uneven.

That was impossible.

I knew Harold had been there.

I remembered his voice.

I remembered him laughing.

I remembered talking to him.

The footage continued playing.

I watched myself sitting inside the parked car for almost forty minutes.

Talking, laughing quietly sometimes, arguing at one point but I was completely alone.

My stomach twisted violently and the room suddenly felt too quiet.

"No," I repeated weakly.

The younger guard shifted awkwardly behind me. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

"Sir..."

"That footage is wrong," I said immediately.

My voice sounded rough now. "That is impossible."

The guards exchanged another uneasy glance.

I quickly stood up from the chair before walking closer toward the monitors.

"There has to be another camera angle," I said sharply. "Another recording."

The younger guard quickly pulled up footage from additional cameras outside the gates.

But every single angle showed the exact same thing. It was me alone.

I stared at the screens while my heartbeat pounded violently inside my ears.

Something felt horribly wrong, and the longer I stared at the footage playing across the monitor, the stronger that feeling became. A strange pressure slowly started building inside my head again, heavy enough to make my temples ache painfully.

My breathing turned uneven as fragmented memories suddenly flashed through my mind without warning. I saw rain sliding endlessly down glass windows, heard the distant sound of thunder somewhere outside, and felt the sharp pounding headache that used to leave me nauseous after the accident.

Then Harold’s laugh echoed softly inside my head, familiar and warm, followed by a calm voice telling me to breathe slowly because I was starting to panic again.

I immediately squeezed my eyes shut as if doing that would stop the memories from surfacing any further.

No.

No, no, no.

This did not make any sense.

Harold was real.

I knew he was real.

I had spoken to him countless times. I remembered entire conversations with him. I remembered hearing his voice, arguing with him, laughing with him, sitting beside him during the worst moments of my life after the accident. There was no way all of that could simply be inside my head.

My chest tightened painfully as panic slowly began creeping deeper beneath my skin.

Maybe someone had edited the footage.

That thought latched onto my mind almost desperately, and I held onto it immediately because it was the only explanation that still made sense to me.

Yes.

That had to be it.

There was no other possibility.

I quickly turned back toward the guards, my heartbeat pounding violently inside my chest while I struggled to keep my expression calm despite the growing panic threatening to consume me.