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THE BREAK IN THE LOOP
Last Updated:
2025-06-12 06:27:20
Latest chapter
JASMINE THE DOOR
CHAPTER 15 He wasn’t supposed to exist. The way he stood there, head tilted, eyes gleaming too bright under the flickering hallway light—it was like the memory of someone I hadn’t met yet. Or had tried to forget. “Jasmine,” he said again. Gentle. Familiar. Like we were old friends. Like he’d walked me home before. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Remi’s voice echoed from outside—something about keys. The streetlight buzzed. I felt my heart thudding against my ribs like it wanted out. “Who—” I finally managed. “Who are you?” He stepped closer. Not fast. Not threatening. But deliberate. “You should’ve opened Door Three,” he murmured. “You were ready.” I took a step back, heels dangling from my fingers like dead limbs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiled wider. Too wide. Like someone who’d practiced how to look human but hadn’t quit
JASMINE Time
CHAPTER 14 I started spending more time in crowded places—cafés, lecture halls, busy sidewalks—anywhere noise could drown out the quiet that had started pressing in again. There were moments when I caught my reflection in windows or mirrors and didn’t recognize the girl staring back. She looked too calm. Too composed. Like a mannequin that had learned to mimic breathing. Beverly called more often now. Not to talk about what happened—she never brought that up—but to check in. Sometimes she’d send a photo of her breakfast or a random meme she knew I’d laugh at. I appreciated it more than I could say. But I hadn’t asked her what happened in the passage. I was scared she’d say, what passage? Or worse—that she remembered something I didn’t. That she’d seen something behind that wall I was never meant to see. One night, I was alone in my apartment, lights dimmed, music humming low in the background.
JASMINE WALKING HOURS
CHAPTER 13 The ceiling above me was too white. Too quiet. Too clean. I blinked up at the fluorescent panels, the hum of hospital machines cutting through the fog in my head. My throat was dry, raw, like I hadn’t spoken in days. “Jasmine?” The voice was soft, cautious. A nurse stood beside me, middle-aged, kind eyes, clipboard in hand. “You’re awake.” She smiled gently, like she’d been hoping for this moment. My lips moved before any sound came. “Where am I?” “General hospital. You’ve been unconscious for a while.” She leaned forward, brushing my hair away from my forehead. “Do you remember what happened?” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t know. The last thing I remembered with certainty was the hidden passage. The wall closing behind us. The darkness swallowing everything. But that memory felt distant. Dreamlike. “Don’t worry,” the nurse said kindly. “That’s normal. You’ll feel better with rest. I’ll get the doctor.” She left, the door whispering shut beh
JASMINE THE BREAK IN THE LOOP
CHAPTER 12 The sound of the wall clicking shut was too final. We stood in the pitch dark, barely breathing. The air was stale, thick with dust and something harder to name—like the memory of rot. I reached out, instinctively, and found Beverly’s hand. Her fingers were ice cold, trembling. Neither of us spoke. Somewhere ahead, something groaned—a sound like settling wood, or the shifting of something long dormant. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight. The beam cut through the dark like a knife, illuminating a narrow passage with warped wooden walls, slick with condensation in some places and cracked like dry skin in others. “This wasn’t on the blueprint,” Beverly whispered. “Of course it wasn’t,” I said. “This wasn’t built. It was hidden.” We moved slowly, careful with each step. The floorboards creaked underfoot, but not like old wood. The sound was… wet. Swollen. Like the house had been drinking its own secrets for years and was finally full. The walls o
JASMINE THE STILL ONES
CHAPTER 11 I didn’t move for a long time. Just stood there, frozen at the window, staring at the place where the girl had been—where her eyes had met mine like she’d been waiting. Like she knew I’d be here. Like I was late. The street was empty now. Not a single shape moved in the misty light of dawn. But the echo of her presence clung to the air, thick and static. Behind me, Beverly shifted on the couch, mumbling something I couldn’t make out. I wanted to wake her. I wanted to grab her and shake her and tell her I’d seen the girl again. That she was here. But something in me held back. Because even if I told her, even if she believed me, what then? We were running out of names for the unknown. I slipped into her tiny bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to feel real. The tap groaned like it hadn’t been used in days, and the mirror above the sink was cracked in a clean diagonal—one split li
JASMINE VERSIONS OF US
CHAPTER 10 I didn’t sleep. Even after the mirror pulsed and reality shifted back to my bedroom, the weight in my chest didn’t lift. My bones felt wrong—like they belonged to someone else, someone older. Someone who remembered more than I could bear. The photo was still on my desk. The girl in the nightgown. And my mother. Smiling. I stared at it until my eyes ached. Nothing about it made sense. The photo looked decades old, the grain soft, the edges curled like time had tried to erase it. But there they were—side by side. Familiar. Comfortable. I tried calling my mom again. No answer. The last time I saw her, she was humming in the kitchen like nothing was wrong. Like the world hadn’t cracked at the seams. Like red ribbons and disappearing keys were just part of our ordinary life. They weren’t. And now, the one person who might have had answers was gone. I pulled my jacket on, slid the photo into the inner pocket, and left the house before the sun had a cha
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