As soon as I saw the shadowy figure and the clock hands spinning backward, I knew I was in trouble. I grabbed the wrinkled rule sheet from the floor and scanned it frantically. Rule 68 glared at me like a death sentence, a terrifying instruction in the midst of the temporal anomaly.
Rule 68: “If time is moving backward, run to the manager’s office as fast as you can. Then turn off all the security cameras and lie beneath the manager’s desk. If you hear any footsteps, ignore them. At some point, you may feel something touching you, but don’t move. After you feel like it has stopped, stand up and continue what you did.”
I didn’t waste any time. I dashed out of the security room and ran through the empty aisles. The world outside the windows looked like a twisted nightmare, as if reality itself were unraveling. I reached the manager’s office and slammed the door behind me, gasping for air.
I quickly moved to the security camera controls. The bizarre events had shaken me to the core, but I had to follow the rules. I turned off each camera, the screens fading to black one by one. The room was engulfed in a deafening silence, and I felt a surge of dread. I crawled under the manager’s desk, hoping for the best.
Under the desk, time seemed to lose all meaning. The usual noise of the security equipment was gone, and I could feel a weird vibration in the air. Then, I heard footsteps approaching the office. My heart skipped a beat, but I stayed still.
The footsteps got closer, echoing in the small space. Then, a cold touch grazed my leg, making me shudder. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to scream or kick. The touch persisted for what seemed like forever, but I didn’t budge.
Eventually, the footsteps faded away, leaving the room in a tense quiet. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, making sure the ominous presence had left. Slowly, carefully, I got up from under the desk. The world around me seemed to return to normal, the time distortion no longer visible.
I checked my watch, and the hands were moving forward again. The horrifying ordeal had left me on edge, but the rules had somehow saved me. As I cautiously turned on the security cameras, the faint light of the screens cast a gloomy atmosphere in the manager’s office.
I was about to leave the manager’s office when I noticed something odd on one of the security screens. It was a blurry image of a man standing in front of the security room, holding a gun. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He seemed to be talking to someone, but I couldn’t hear anything.
I felt a chill run down my spine. Who was he? What was he doing here? Was he the one who caused the temporal anomaly? I decided to investigate, hoping to find some answers. I grabbed the rule sheet and the gun I had found earlier and headed to the security room.
As I approached the door, I heard a loud bang. I flinched and ducked behind a shelf. I peeked through the gap and saw the man lying on the floor, blood pooling around his head. He had shot himself. I felt a surge of nausea, but I forced myself to look closer. There was something else on the floor, next to his body. It was a note.
I gathered my courage, ran to the door, kicked it open, and entered the room. I ignored the corpse and grabbed the note. It was written in shaky handwriting, and it read:
“I’m sorry. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been trapped in this hell for too long. I’ve seen things you can’t imagine. Things that shouldn’t exist. Things that defy the laws of nature. Things that haunt me every night.
I don’t know how it started, or why it happened. All I know is that this place is cursed. It’s a portal to another dimension, a dimension of horrors. A dimension where time is twisted, and reality is broken. A dimension where the rules are the only things that keep you alive.
I’ve tried to escape, but it’s useless. Every time I think I’ve found a way out, I end up back here. It’s like a loop, a never-ending cycle of terror. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve died and how many times I’ve come back. I’ve lost track of who I am and what I’ve done.
I’ve done terrible things. Things I can’t forgive myself for. Things I can’t forget. Things that have changed me. Things that have made me a monster.
I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to be here. You don’t deserve to suffer like I have. You don’t deserve to die like I have.
But you will. You will die, and you will come back. You will die, and you will come back. You will die, and you will come back. Over and over again. Until you lose your mind. Until you lose your soul. Until you become like me.
There’s no escape. There’s no hope. There’s no end.
There’s only one way out.
Goodbye.”
I dropped the note and stared at the body. I felt a wave of shock and disbelief. I recognized the man. I recognized his face. I recognized his clothes. I recognized his gun.
It was me.
I then reread the note and found that it said, “There’s only one way out.” But what way? What did he mean by that? Was he talking about suicide? Or was there another option? A hidden exit? A secret code? A way to reverse the anomaly? I looked around the room, hoping to find a clue. I saw the security screens, showing different scenes of the store. Some were normal, some were distorted. Some showed me, some showed him. Some showed things that made no sense. Things that made me shiver. I saw the rule sheet, lying on the desk. It had a list of rules that I had to follow, or else. Rules that seemed random but were somehow connected to the anomaly. Rules that were sometimes helpful, sometimes harmful. Rules that were sometimes impossible, sometimes inevitable. I saw the gun, still in his hand. It had one bullet left. The same bullet that he had used to kill himself. The same bullet that I had used to kill him. The same bullet that I had used to kill myself. I realized the truth. The horrible, terrible truth. The truth that he had realized before me. The truth that he had written on the note. The truth that he had acted on. The truth that I had to face. There was only one way out. We were the anomaly.
I knew what I had to do. I knew there was no other way. I knew there was no other me. I knew there was only one me. And I knew I had to die. I raised the gun to my temple and pulled the trigger. I felt a sharp pain, and then nothing. I fell to the floor, next to him. Next to me. Next to us. I thought it was over. I thought I had ended the anomaly. I thought I had freed myself. I thought I had freed him. I thought I had freed us. But I was still trapped.