June 12, 2039.
The rain returned the next morning— softer now, but persistent, tapping against Theo's window like it refused to let him forget. The rain hadn't stopped since dawn and the city's hum was distant — faint sirens, passing cars, the shuffle of a sleepless world that seemed too busy to notice what it had lost.
Theo's room was a chaos of papers. Notes, photos, and half-burned documents covered the floor. He hadn't slept since the night of the attack. His laptop cast a pale glow across the walls, illuminating the storm-streaked glass and his tired reflection. The faint hum of his laptop was the only sound keeping him company.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. His reflection in the window looked hollow, framed by rain and exhaustion. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of last night — the chase, the crash of furniture, the glint of something sharp in the dark.
But sleep wouldn't bring peace, so he worked.
"Alright, Leonard," Theo muttered to himself. "What were you trying to show us?"
He sat hunched at his desk, the only light coming from a dim lamp that cast his shadow across the scattered pages. Old files, newspaper cuttings, scanned police reports — the aftermath of Leonard's folder lay open like a dissected crime scene.
To others, this would be chaos, but to Theo, it was clarity. Years in journalism had taught him that truth was never found in what people said — but in what they didn't. Every lie left fingerprints, every omission had a pulse. And right now, Linwood's massacre had too many silences.
He reached for a yellowed envelope marked with Leonard's handwriting:
Linwood Archive Copy — June 26, 2029 [Case # 32 record]
Inside were photocopies of the school's final report. He flipped through the pages slowly, eyes tracing the neat columns. Attendance records, parent statements, staff lists — all cross-referenced and numbered. Then, he came into the survivor list.
Theo noticed that something was wrong in this list. He reached out for one of the folder and this was seems to be the first version of this report which according to Leonard's note, this was not published for unknown reason and this file was hidden from anyone.
Linwood Archive Copy — June 16, 2029 [Case # 32 record]
The first file came out 3 days after the massacre while the other came out one week after the report was been made so why does it felt different. He compared both the information of each file and everything match except for the survivor list. He'd read it before, but something about it bothered him. "This can't be right, one hundred survivor had been recorded in the final report but it is stated here in the original that only ninety-eight survive."
Theo pulled the earlier version closer — the one copied three days after the massacre. He compared each name, line by line, finger following the curve of every letter. Everything matched except for the last part of the survivor list.
In the original file, the list ended cleanly at #98, but in the official, printed version, two names had been added at the bottom as if someone added it later after the report was made. He examined it much more closer and he saw that the last two is different from the rest of the list. The font is different from the others— it was darker and it was made in a different yet similar font. Not everyone can see the difference if they don't paid attention much to its detail.
He leaned closer and he saw that the names were faint, smudged by the years, the letters almost unreadable — as if someone had tried to erase them, then changed their mind. Then, he turned the page over, hoping for clarity. Instead, he found a note scrawled in Leonard's familiar, hurried handwriting.
"They said that the survivors were one hundred but I counted the survivors that day when no one was looking and I remembered that I counted only ninety-eight."
When Theo read this, he sat back as the paper trembling slightly in his grip while he tightened his grip on the paper. Those words wasn't just confusion — it was doubt and fear. If Leonard was right then who were the other two.
He saw a photo beside Leonard's note and a text was written on it, [SURVIVOR PHOTO]. picked up one of the old group photos that Leonard had copied — the last known picture of their class after everything went wrong. Those picture were taken by the media to show the survivor of that massacre. In those picture, Ninety-eight faces were standing beneath the academy's banner, but, in the corner of the frame, behind the others, two faint silhouettes stood — blurred, almost erased.
Theo's throat went dry. He'd seen doctored photos before — edited faces, missing people. But this… this was different. The shadows looked almost natural— almost most human.
He whispered, "They weren't supposed to be there."
The air seemed to grow heavier as the rain tapped against the glass. He couldn't stop staring at that photograph, at the shadows that didn't belong. He could only thought on who were they and why were they added later. Especially on what kind of person could change an official report — one sealed by the police, the academy, and the city itself — without leaving a trace. He pressed his fingers against his temple again and he could almost hear Leonard's voice from that night, trembling but determined: "My father didn't do it… someone tampered with the evidence."
A bitter laugh escaped him as he remembered his words. "You were right, Leonard… there's more to this."
Outside, a shadow passed near his window so Theo turned sharply — but when looked at the window, there was nothing there. He doesn't know if it was just an illusion due to his tiredness but he couldn't help but feel like someone was watching him in his room and it didn't felt friendly at all.
He exhaled slowly, his pulse calming. He thought that maybe it was just his exhaustion coming in as he doesn't want to put fear in his self but he didn't let his guards down since there is a possibility that maybe it wasn't his exhaustion at all.
Theo grabbed his notepad and began to write.
"Possible interference. Tampering occurred between June 16–20, 2029. They added two survivors and there were no record of the survivors names in the press archives."
He opened his laptop, typing quickly through old databases since as a journalist, he'd learned how to dig where others couldn't, so using an old contact at The Gazette, he bypassed paywalls and outdated police archives. His fingers moved with muscle memory — search, cross-verify, trace metadata.
Then, it suddenly appeared through his screen. The report made on June 18, 2029 which contained the information of the two added survivor.
Survivor count corrected to 100. Two additional students located after hospital confirmation.
The article states the proof that two new students have been found as one of the survivors of the massacre but still, there was no name of the two survivors had been stated here. The hospital name is not stated either and there are no records to back up this information.
He dug deeper, tracing the metadata trail. In his research, the editor who had uploaded the article wasn't from The Gazette's usual staff — an unfamiliar user ID, deleted days later. He clicked on the source of the article and embedded in the article's hidden code were words almost erased by time:
Update authorized by: [REDACTED].
Theo leaned closer, eyes narrowing. Even through the missing text, he caught the faint trace of a letter — an R. He froze and with only just one letter, it felt like the start of something much larger.
Theo sank back into his chair, the tension in his body finally giving way and he remembered Leonard's words from their last meeting, that quiet desperation in his tone:
"My father acted strange that night. Like someone else was controlling him."
Theo had brushed it off then. But now… he wasn't so sure. Maybe Leonard had found something — something too dangerous, and maybe whoever changed the records didn't just want the truth buried— They wanted the past rewritten.
He stared at the two faintly smudged names, unreadable, letters blurred and half-erased. He could only thought of: Who were they? And why hide them?
As he was thinking those words, a dull ache pressed against his temples. He leaned back, rubbing his face — and then it hit him. The sound, the smell, and the memories he tried so hard to bury came crawling back to him.
---
Linwood Academy.
June 13, 2029.
Theo still remembered the screams of terror that escaped from each students mouth and the sound of running feets echoing down through the polish hall as gunshots filled the hall. The once school full of laughter became a school ot terror. He saw it again — the chaos, the flashing lights from shattered bulbs, the air thick with dust and fear. He was eighteen then, just a student. Yet somehow, he had lived when others didn't. He didn't know what to do that time but on his mind, he needed to protect Mia.
He remembered clutching the side of the wall, breath ragged, Mia's voice trembling beside him. "Theo, we have to go—"
He had nodded his head before she could finish her sentence and he grabbed her hand, pulling her down the hallway as the fire alarm wailed. They ran until they reached the library doors, only to find them chained shut. Behind them, distant footsteps echoed — slow, measured, not running but walking.
The sound of confidence. Of someone who already knew every exit. He knew that the killer was close so he grabbed Mia's hand again and ran away again, far from the library door. They kept on running while Mia's small hand was clutching his sleeve, the corridor vibrating with the noise of panicked footsteps and screams.
"Stay close," he had said — his voice trembling but calm. "Don't stop no matter what happens and I'll protect you no matter what."
They'd turned a corner and almost collided with someone. A girl — Lia — pale and shaking, clutching a chair leg like a weapon. Her eyes widened when she saw them. "Lia, thank goodness you are alight." Theo breath out a sigh of relief when he had seen another person that they both know so he hug her fast while Mia followed next.
Lia broke from the embrace and looked at them with terror on her eyes. "The west wing is blocked," she had cried. "They're coming from that way!"
Theo didn't ask who they were, but he didn't want to know. All he knew was that person might be the killer so there is no time to waste.
"Mia," he said, kneeling so their eyes met. "Go with her. Follow the stairs to the library wing. Don't look back, no matter what."
"But—" Mia was about to object when she saw the expression on Theo's face, she knew that there is no way to convince him if he already decided it himself.
He forced a smile, even as the distant screams grew louder. "I'll find another way out. Go."
Mia hesitated only a second before Lia grabbed her hand. The two ran down the hall, disappearing behind the corner as the emergency lights flickered red.
Theo exhaled then he heard a sound coming behind him so he turned toward the sound. He had footsteps coming closer to his direction and it was slow, even, and not panicked like the others. He hide against the locker and he peeked through the corridor. The corridor was empty except for two figures emerging through the haze of dust and flashing alarms.
He grabbes a broken pipe next to the locker and he squinted his eyes through the flickering light. He examined the two figures and he saw that both wore dark uniforms — maybe students of this school, maybe not. One was taller, moving with a strange precision, like every step was measured, while the other stayed close behind, smaller, calmer.
Theo's eyes met the taller one's for half a second, his gaze were sharp gaze, empty of emotion, and almost curious. He could had point his direction to the other or even attack him but he didn't. He just stared at him and looked away after a while.
Then — the lights went out and Theo stumbled back into the shadow of the lockers, holding his breath. The sound of the footsteps stopped right in front of him and then he heard two people whispering. A voice too soft to hear.
Another responded — lighter, younger. He had felt the air felt cold and Theo didn't wait to find out what came next so he turned and ran before they could notice him.
---
He didn't know how long he'd been running when he finally burst through the double doors of the gymnasium. There, near the broken bleachers, he saw him — Richard. He was holding something in his hand then it suddenly vanished, he thought he was holding a weapon but maybe it was his own illusion during that time.
"Richard!" he shouted, stumbling forward. "You're alive—thank God!"
Richard turned, his expression blank for a moment, it was an expression that Theo never seen on Richard's face, then after a while his expression suddenly softened when he saw him. "Theo?"
Theo stopped when he saw the blood on his arm and his clothes. "You're hurt—"
"It's not mine," Richard interrupted but his voice was steady— Too steady. Theo understood that Richard must had gained it from the other students while he was escaping and he must have seen those dead bodies.
Theo frowned and looked at him with a worried yet soft expression on his face. "Where's Mia? I sent her with Lia—"
Richard's gaze darkened, unreadable. "I know, they won't make it too far."
"What do you mean?" Theo looked at him and his gaze hardened when he heard this.
Richard stepped closer, his eyes gleaming in the flicker of red light and he grabbed Theo's shoulder. "They won't get far. None of us will so you need to leave. I'll create a distraction so that you could escape."
Theo's breath caught and his expression become worried as he grabbed Richard's hand to stop him from going "What are you talking about? Richard—"
Richard's jaw clenched, and his tone dropped low — almost mechanical. "Run."
Theo hesitated, then turned toward the emergency door. The moment he looked back, Richard was already gone, as if he was never there in the first place. After he had escaped, he remembered the explosion next — the deafening roar that shattered the glass ceiling, the rain of debris, the screams. Then the flashing lights of emergency responders came hours later and the city was flooded with police and press.
Theo had stood there, numb, clutching a blanket someone had draped over his shoulders. The world around him moved in fragments — voices, sirens, cameras.
Until he heard someone shouted, "Another one! Over here!"
He was curious and worried for his friends so he turned around to check if it was someone he knew but what he saw made his blood ran cold. He saw that they were pulling a body from the wreckage— it was Richard's body.
He was wearing the same clothes with the same torn sleeve, the same wound on the arm, and the same shoes. But how can he be dead? He was still alive earlier, it hasn't been an hour before he escaped and saw him so how could it.
Theo stumbled forward and looked at the corpse infront of him. "That's—no, that's not—"
A medic blocked him and looked at him seriously. "Sir, please step back."
"But that's—he's—he was alive!" Theo's voice broke. "He was alive! I just talked to him—he told me to run!"
The medic shook his head, pity in his eyes. "He's been gone for hours."
Theo's legs nearly gave out. "No… no, I saw him…"
He stood there, soaked in rain and disbelief, staring at the sheet being pulled over Richard's face. He just stood there while he clenched his fist tightly and countless of thoughts began to fill his gead. Mia appeared moments later, her uniform torn, her face streaked with soot and tears.
When she saw Theo, she ran toward him and she hugged him tightly while tears began to fall down her face. Her voice was shaking as she tried to say the news to him. "Theo—Richard's—"
"I know," he cut her off sharply, eyes wide and glassy, then he push her away. "Don't say it. He's not dead."
She was surprised from his action and her voice broke. "Theo—please, he—"
"I said he's not dead!" he snapped as his eyes narrowed slightly and his face darkened.
The words came out harsher than he intended, slicing through the chaos around them. Mia flinched, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You didn't see what I saw, You weren't there when he died but I was and," she whispered. "He's gone."
Theo clenched his fist and looked at her as he couldn't believed her words. "Maybe it wasn't Richard! Maybe it was a different Richard that you saw! I just saw him so don't you dare tell me that he is dead."
For a moment, neither of them spoke and the sound of sirens filled the gap between them. That was the first crack on their relationship and the first fracture between them. Mia backed away, trembling, her father calling her from across the debris field. She gave Theo one last look — full of grief and pity — before turning and leaving with the others.
Theo stayed in the same spot as he couldn't move and he couldn't think either as minutes later, he watched as emergency workers loaded Richard's body into a black bag. The rain fell harder, drowning out the rest of the world. He stared until the van doors closed and in the reflection of the shattered window beside him, he thought — just for a second — he saw someone standing in the dark, watching. Someone with Richard's silhouette, he blinked his eyes then that silhouette dissapeared.
---
The rain outside Theo's apartment now sounded almost identical and he blinked back into the present, his pulse still uneven. He looked at the photo again and he just stared at the ninety-eight students standing then a thought came to his mind.
"If Richard really died that day…" he whispered, voice low, "then who was the one who told me to run?"