The Truth Box

The forest we walked through was cloaked in darkness. A thick mist enveloped us, winding through the trees and pressing against our skin like a cold breath. It was hard to see where we were going—every step forward was shrouded in uncertainty. With each crunch of dry twigs beneath my feet, a flicker of fear surged through me, as if the forest itself were whispering secrets I wasn't meant to hear. Birds could be heard in the distance, but their songs weren't like the ones from my childhood memories. These sounded warped, distant, almost wrong—as though sung by creatures mimicking life rather than living it.

"We're almost there," said Merlin, who walked ahead of me. Her voice cut gently through the silence, like a thread of familiarity. She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes shadowed. "You don't remember this path?"

She slowed her pace just enough for me to catch up.

"We used to sneak away down this trail every day when no one was watching," she said, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips. "We were so happy. So free. We had our place... hidden from them all. Just the two of us."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I felt a shiver ripple through my body as we drew nearer to that so-called place of ours.

Then, suddenly, it appeared—a small, weathered cabin tucked among the trees like a forgotten relic. It looked as if no one had been there in years. Moss and tall grass had overtaken the wooden beams, nature reclaiming what had once been a refuge. Merlin stepped forward and tried the door.

"I haven't been here since you..." she began, her voice faltering.

"Since I what?" I asked, helping her push the door open.

"...Since you disappeared," she whispered, just as the old wooden door gave a reluctant creak and swung inward.

That word echoed in my mind. Disappeared. Was this another of her games meant to drive me to madness—or was there something else at play? Something deeper?

Inside, the cabin was steeped in shadows and silence. Dust clung to every surface. Shelves sagged under their own weight, barely holding on. On one shelf sat an old box sealed with a rusted padlock. It immediately drew my attention. Nearby stood a small table with two rickety chairs and a handful of colored chalks, some half-moulded over by time. I brushed the dust from one chair and sat down. Merlin mirrored my action and sat across from me.

"Do you really not remember anything?" she asked softly. "Or are you just pretending?"

"I... I truly don't," I admitted, my voice trembling. "And I'm scared." My eyes darted back to the box on the shelf. Something about it filled me with an unplaceable dread. My heart began to race, skipping beats like it was trying to warn me.

Merlin noticed. She stood, walked to the shelf, and gently placed her hand on the box.

"This..." she said, her voice quiet but steady, "this holds our photos. Our family."

Our family? The words echoed strangely in my head, unsettling me. I hesitated.

"Can I see them?" I finally asked, my hands trembling, fear clawing its way up my spine.

She handed me the box. I stood and approached the shelf, unsure why my body moved before my mind could think.

"Oh... you do remember where the key is," Merlin said with a faint smile. But that smile quickly faded into something more serious. "There's a hole in the shelf—you always used to hide the key there. Check if it's still there."

With reluctant fingers, I reached into the hollow and pulled out the old key. I turned back toward the table, the box now in front of me like a locked truth.

Taking a deep breath, I turned the key in the padlock. It clicked open. The box yielded immediately.

Inside were photographs. Dozens of them. Children, arranged in neat rows, all dressed in white uniforms. Surrounding them were soldiers—Nortons. The most striking figure among them was a man in a black uniform, wearing glasses, with a neatly trimmed beard. He looked familiar in a way that made my stomach twist. Each uniform bore a double-woven letter "N", just like the one from my vision—when Merlin held my hand, wearing that same outfit.

Panic gripped me. My hands trembled. I pulled out another photo.

It was me.

I jumped to my feet so suddenly the box slipped from my hands, spilling its contents across the cabin floor. The photo of myself, standing among the other children, was still clenched in my hand. I dropped it.

Then I saw another photo on the floor—the same man in black, holding my hand, his smile a cruel mockery of affection. It was too much. Who am I? The question screamed inside my head.

I threw the photo away and broke into tears.

I needed to act, to scream, to smash something. Everything I thought I knew was turning to ash. None of this made sense. Who were these people?

Merlin rushed to her feet, panic in her eyes.

"Easy!" she shouted. "You're not dying. You're okay…" Her tone softened. "You're okay..."

I looked at her. Then we both noticed something fall from the shelf behind her.

A yellow envelope.

Merlin bent down and picked it up. Her eyes narrowed.

"This... I don't know what this is," she said cautiously, turning it over. "It's addressed to... Devin Timoni?" She handed it to me, confusion written across her face. "I've never seen this before."

I took the envelope and opened it, heart pounding. The handwriting inside was... familiar.

Dear Devin,I hope you never find this letter, and that you stay safe. But if you do find it—and if you've ended up back here, whether by choice or by force—I need you to listen. Help Merlin. She needs you. You likely already know the Nortons are conducting experiments. So many innocent children… all gone. Only ruin remains.

Don't trust anyone. If you're there, get out. Take Merlin with you and head north. You'll know the path. If you go that way, we will find each other. I'll explain everything. You're old enough now, but even so, I pray you never read this letter, because if you are... it means your life is about to become a nightmare I tried to rewrite.

I'm sorry I left you. Had I stayed, they would have killed you. I hope you found the address to my cabin. Look after Keli. He's the only one I could leave to watch over you.

Your uncle,Roi.

As I read the final line, tears spilled freely down my cheeks. I clutched the letter tightly.

Merlin said nothing. Her head was bowed, her silence heavier than words. She sat, staring blankly at the shelves.

"He's alive!" I whispered, overwhelmed, my heart caught between hope and anguish.

And then I heard it—his voice. A memory, soft and distant, like the echo of a dream.

"It's going to be alright…"He reached out his hand."We're leaving…"

I remembered the warmth of his touch, the crushing fear in my chest, the fog. Always the fog. Then—nothing. A void.

Am I living a lie?

He was the only truth I had left. The only source. I had to follow it.

Merlin was still sitting there, tapping her fingers absently on the table and floor. Then she looked at me.

"The day you disappeared…" she began slowly, "Gordon summoned everyone to the main hall. He ordered them all to kill you."

"Who is Gordon?" I asked, picking up the photo again—the man in black.

"That's him," she said, with a sigh. "He claimed you escaped and murdered innocent people. I couldn't believe it. Not you. Never you."

She stood, moved to the shelves, scanned the room, and continued, "I hoped they wouldn't find you. That you'd come back. But years passed. And Gordon kept telling us stories of horrific murders in nearby towns—he said you did it."

She sat back down, elbows on her knees.

"Autin and I were assigned to bring you in after Gordon learned you were hiding at his brother's. I was furious. I waited so long for you. I believed the stories…"

"My uncle…" I whispered. "He's Gordon's brother."

She nodded. "Yes. He was exiled. Accused of treason. He and Gordon were once very close…"

"Why didn't you kill me?" I asked, my voice flat.

She rose and came closer.

"I couldn't. I just couldn't. Seeing you again… it woke something in me I'd lost a long time ago. Hope. Connection."

She reached for my face, but hesitated and looked away.

"You remember nothing. Not even a fragment," she said softly, her head bowed.

I said nothing. Only tears answered. I dropped the photo and stepped toward her. I pulled her into an embrace.

It was warmth I had forgotten existed. Familiar. Safe.

She placed her hand on my head, fingers gently stroking my hair, and I rested against her shoulder.

"It was all an act," she murmured. "Autin was nearby, hidden—just in case. Gordon never fully trusted me."

"I'm sorry for that," she whispered, holding me tighter.

I met her eyes.

"Thank you. This is all just... too much."

"I understand," she said gently, patting my shoulder with a faint smile.

"I think we need to head north. What do you say?"

"Definitely," I said, exhaling with a mixture of relief and dread, like a swimmer breaking the surface of water—gasping not from drowning in a wild river, but from a life I never truly knew. A life that had always belonged to someone else.