I had died.
Both of us… had died that night.
—
I jolted awake.
The wind howled through the treetops. A bone-chilling cold wrapped around me, making me shiver uncontrollably.
John was still kneeling in front of me. His eyes never left mine, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite grasp.
"You remember now, don't you?" His voice was hoarse, raw with something that sent a shiver down my spine.
I opened my mouth to answer—
But I didn't know what to say.
I remembered.
But that didn't mean I wanted to.
My hands trembled as I glanced down at my wrist. Beneath the fabric of my sleeve, I knew what was there—a scar, faint but undeniable. A scar that carried the weight of a promise.
A cursed promise.
A bond that could never be broken.
I shook my head in frantic denial. "No… That's impossible. I—I couldn't have died before! That doesn't make any sense!"
John didn't say anything at first.
And then, he smiled.
A bitter, sorrowful smile.
"You still don't believe me?" he whispered.
I couldn't answer.
I didn't dare to.
John rose to his feet, his movements slow, deliberate. He took a step back, hands reaching up to the collar of his shirt.
And then he pulled it down.
Revealing his neck.
A scar.
A long, jagged mark—like the trace of a blade that had once severed something vital.
My entire body froze.
That scar…
That scar was from my own hand.
A sharp breath caught in my throat. Ice crawled through my veins, numbing me from the inside out.
No.
No, no, no.
But I couldn't deny it.
We had died.
We had been trapped between two worlds.
And John had come back—
To fulfill the promise.
The promise that we would never be apart.
I gasped, scrambling backward. "No… I can't… I don't want this…!"
John took a step forward. His dark eyes gleamed in the night.
"You don't have a choice."
The darkness thickened. The air grew heavy, suffocating, like unseen hands closing around my body.
I couldn't move.
And then I heard him.
John's whisper, right against my ear—
**"A promise must be kept."**
The world shattered.
**Darkness consumed me.**
**Laughter echoed in the void.**
**And I disappeared.**
John paused, his gaze thoughtful. "You really don't remember anything?"
The pain in my head suddenly flared up, stronger than before, nearly suffocating me. A throbbing sensation spread throughout my body, and I had to clutch my temples, gasping for air. Flashing images appeared—a sense of something familiar, yet foreign, at the same time.
A promise. A promise I had forgotten. I could feel it like an invisible thread, tightly binding my soul to some distant memory.
A rainy night. The raindrops fell relentlessly, as if trying to tear everything around apart. A cold, trembling hand gripped mine. I couldn't remember the face of the person, only a deep sensation inside, as if that person was a part of me. And a whisper in the night: "I won't let you forget."
That feeling rushed back in an instant, like a powerful wave crashing into my chest. I opened my eyes, my body drained of all strength. Everything around me blurred, and all I could hear were my heavy breaths and see John standing there, staring at me, his deep eyes filled with an unexplainable sadness.
John stood right in front of me. I could feel his breath, so close it felt like I might lose my composure. He raised his hand, his cold fingers touching my forehead. Cold. But strangely familiar, as though I had lived through this moment countless times before.
In that moment, the world around me seemed to shatter. Everything dissolved like broken pieces of an old painting. This world—or perhaps my memories—vanished. The images of the past began flooding back, vague yet strangely clear.
I saw the past. It wasn't the dark forest I had imagined. It wasn't the long nights, the nightmares. Instead, I stood in a small room, where dim yellow light cast shadows on the old walls. Those walls seemed to have witnessed countless stories of the people who had once lived here. Outside the window, the rain fell, each drop quietly hitting the roof, blending with the sound of thunder in the night.
On the bed beside me, two children sat closely together, gazing at each other as though they were the only two people in the world. One of them was me. The other—was John.
But not the John of now. This was the John of a past life, from a time I couldn't explain. In his eyes, I saw something—something I couldn't understand, a sadness that words couldn't describe.
I couldn't breathe. Too much information. Too many things I couldn't comprehend. I wanted to step back, to run away from it all, but my legs wouldn't move, frozen as if some unseen force was holding me in place.
John—or rather, the version of him from the past—looked at me. That child had big, clear eyes, but there was an immense sadness in them, making me feel like I was trapped in a place with no escape.
"I'm scared," John whispered.
I don't remember what I said. I can't recall the emotions I felt, only that a part of me, deep inside, reached out and grabbed his hand. Suddenly, warmth spread through me, an unusual sense of comfort. And I made a promise. A significant promise. A promise I have now forgotten.
John squeezed my hand tightly, his eyes filled with despair. "I don't want to leave you." His words felt like a knife cutting into my heart, making me feel the fear that loomed over us. An invisible fear, as though something terrifying was about to tear him away from me.
I saw myself—promising John. What did I promise? That question spun around in my head, but I couldn't remember the promise.
Everything suddenly became hazy. I felt like I was falling into an endless void, where time and space no longer mattered.
Then everything went dark.
I returned to the present. I collapsed to the ground, my heart pounding in my chest. Cold sweat drenched me, and it felt as though I had just escaped from a nightmare I couldn't understand. John was still standing there, staring at me without blinking. His eyes still filled with pain, but also with an unspoken expectation.
"You remember now, don't you?" His voice was rough, as though it had been worn down by the years.
I opened my mouth to respond—but I didn't know what to say. I remembered. But that didn't mean I wanted to. A part of me, deep down, wanted to deny everything I had just experienced, but I couldn't.
I looked at my hand. On my wrist, under my sleeve, was a faint scar. A promise cursed. A bond that could not be broken. I could feel it, as if it was a part of me, a piece of the past I couldn't escape.
I shook my head, panicked. "No… That can't be… I—I couldn't have died before!"
John was silent, his gaze unchanged. Then he smiled. A sad smile, as though he knew I wouldn't be able to understand everything right away.
"You still don't believe it?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. Inside, a growing sense of confusion and fear overwhelmed me. The memories, the promises, all swirled in my head, making it impossible to find an escape.
John stood up, slowly backing away. He lifted his hand, pulling his shirt down, revealing his neck. A long scar, like the mark of a fatal knife wound. A scar… that I had created with my own hands.
I froze. My whole body went cold as though I was being submerged in a deep, icy pit. I couldn't believe my eyes. I couldn't believe what was happening before me.
No. It couldn't be.
But I couldn't deny it any longer.
We were dead. We had been trapped between two worlds. And John had returned to fulfill the promise. The promise that we would never be apart.
I gasped, trying to step back. "No… I can't… I don't want to…!"
John stepped forward, his eyes glowing in the darkness, as if something mysterious was shining through these moments.
"You have no choice."
The darkness around us thickened. A cold draft enveloped me, rendering me motionless. I could feel it, like an invisible string pulling me closer, with no way to escape.
And then I heard John's voice, whispering in my ear—
"The promise… must be kept."
The world collapsed.