Alaric
"Do you have any CCTV footage from the tis I ca here a few weeks ago?" I asked suddenly.
The two security guards exchanged uneasy looks imdiately.
For a few seconds, neither of them answered .
The older guard finally sighed softly before nodding once.
"We should still have the recordings," he admitted carefully.
My heartbeat imdiately 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 all those tis.
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 mont before eventually stepping aside from the gates.
"Co with us, sir."
I swallowed hard before following them inside.
The mont I stepped past the entrance, another strange wave of familiarity washed over unexpectedly.
There was sothing 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 rember when or how I got there.
The guards led 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 sobody’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 sowhere 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 .
Several monitors covered one wall while surveillance footage played silently across the screens.
The younger guard pulled a chair out for politely.
"Do you rember the exact date?" he asked carefully.
I shook my head imdiately.
"No. But it was recent. Maybe two or three weeks ago."
The younger guard nodded before typing sothing 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 tistamp 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 sa spot from earlier.
Then the driver’s door opened.
I stepped out.
Alone.
My eyebrows imdiately pulled together.
No.
I kept staring at the screen while my chest slowly tightened.
The footage showed walking toward the passenger side briefly before stopping halfway like I was speaking to soone sitting inside the car.
But when the cara angle shifted—
The passenger seat was empty.
Completely empty.
A cold sensation crawled slowly down my spine.
"No," I whispered imdiately.
Neither guard said anything.
I continued staring at the footage desperately.
Maybe the angle was wrong.
Maybe Harold was sitting too low for the cara to catch him.
Maybe—
The older guard zood the footage in slightly.
The image sharpened imdiately and it was just my car, myself, and nobody else.
I watched myself standing there smiling faintly at absolutely nothing before nodding like soone had just spoken to .
Then I got back into the driver’s seat alone.
My breathing imdiately turned uneven.
That was impossible.
I knew Harold had been there.
I rembered his voice.
I rembered him laughing.
I rembered talking to him.
The footage continued playing.
I watched myself sitting inside the parked car for almost forty minutes.
Talking, laughing quietly sotis, 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 .
"Sir..."
"That footage is wrong," I said imdiately.
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 cara angle," I said sharply. "Another recording."
The younger guard quickly pulled up footage from additional caras outside the gates.
But every single angle showed the exact sa thing. It was alone.
I stared at the screens while my heartbeat pounded violently inside my ears.
Sothing felt horribly wrong, and the longer I stared at the footage playing across the monitor, the stronger that feeling beca. A strange pressure slowly started building inside my head again, heavy enough to make my temples ache painfully.
My breathing turned uneven as fragnted mories suddenly flashed through my mind without warning. I saw rain sliding endlessly down glass windows, heard the distant sound of thunder sowhere outside, and felt the sharp pounding headache that used to leave nauseous after the accident.
Then Harold’s laugh echoed softly inside my head, familiar and warm, followed by a calm voice telling to breathe slowly because I was starting to panic again.
I imdiately squeezed my eyes shut as if doing that would stop the mories 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 tis. I rembered entire conversations with him. I rembered hearing his voice, arguing with him, laughing with him, sitting beside him during the worst monts 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 soone had edited the footage.
That thought latched onto my mind almost desperately, and I held onto it imdiately because it was the only explanation that still made sense to .
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 consu .
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