One morning, I got a call from my mom asking me to pick up my brother, Felix, from school. But when I got home, Mom turned pale—she’d never called me. Her phone was untouched. The boy I brought home looked like Felix… but something felt off. He was distant. Wrong.
The next day, the real Felix confessed: the boy I brought home wasn’t him. He’d been lured into the old shed at school by something that looked just like him. He escaped only when it got distracted by my arrival—and he followed us home, hiding in the attic.
When I checked Felix’s room, it was empty. He had vanished again. I found him near the woods, whispering, “It’s still here.” We saw the figure—his exact double—humming a strange tune in the dark. We ran and never looked back.
We moved Felix to safety. At the shed, I found his bag—and a chilling note: “If I don’t come out, don’t take him home.”
Years later, I got a call. A child’s voice whispered, “You left me in the dark.” I hung up and changed my number.
Always trust your instincts.
Because sometimes, it’s not what’s missing you should fear—it’s what comes back.
