Chapter 1

My Brother Disappeared at the Cinema. I Found Him Five Days After It Happened.

I don't know if I should be writing this.

For a long time, I thought that if I told anyone what happened, someone might find me.

Now I'm twenty years old.

And I'm still afraid.

My name is George Black.

When I was fifteen, my little brother disappeared.

His name was Mario.

He was eight years old.

He was the kind of child who couldn't stay still for more than thirty seconds. He talked too much, asked questions about everything, and always found some way to get into trouble.

My sister Cindy was six years old. She was completely different. Shy around strangers, but she talked nonstop whenever the three of us were together.

We were orphans.

Our parents had died five years earlier in a car accident.

I barely remembered that night.

But I did remember something my mother had told me.

Something I can still hear sometimes when I'm about to fall asleep.

"George, always take care of your little siblings."

She had also given me a necklace.

It was my birthday.

The necklace had a small metal plate with words I never fully understood.

"Andhere mein ladane vaalon ke lie taakat."

My mother told me it meant something like:

"For those who fight in the darkness."

I never understood what she meant.

Until that night.

—

We lived in an orphanage in the city of Tempus.

It wasn't a terrible place.

In fact, for several years, I managed to convince myself that we were happy.

And we probably were.

Mario and Cindy were my world.

I was the oldest, and I felt that I had to protect them.

Not because anyone had forced me to.

But because they were the last thing I had left of my family.

A week before everything happened, Mario found a flyer for the cinema.

"George, we have to go."

"Why?"

"Because there's a monster movie."

"You don't have any money."

"You do."

"And how do you know that?"

He pointed at my pockets.

"Because you always keep money there."

Cindy started laughing.

We ended up going.

The three of us.

It was the last time I remember seeing Mario smile without fear.

—

We arrived at the cinema shortly before the showing began.

I don't remember exactly which movie we wanted to see.

What I remember is a man.

He was standing across the street.

He was dressed entirely in black.

A long coat.

A hat.

I couldn't see his face clearly.

I thought he was simply someone waiting for another person.

But when we entered the cinema…

he entered too.

I saw him reflected in one of the glass doors.

I stood there watching him.

He did nothing.

He was just standing there.

Watching me.

I looked away.

When I looked back, he was gone.

I didn't think much of it.

I wish I had.

During the movie, Mario wouldn't stop talking.

Cindy fell asleep on my shoulder.

For a moment, I thought that night was going to be perfect.

Then the movie ended.

And Mario disappeared.

—

I was only gone for a few minutes.

Cindy wanted candy.

Mario said he wanted popcorn.

I told him to wait.

"Don't move from here."

"I'm eight years old, George."

"Exactly."

I left with Cindy.

We were gone for no more than eight minutes.

When I came back…

Mario was gone.

At first, I thought he was playing a game.

"Mario."

Nothing.

I looked under the seats.

Nothing.

I asked the people who were leaving.

No one had seen him.

Cindy started crying.

Then she told me something I still remember perfectly.

"George…"

"What?"

"There was a man."

"What man?"

"The one outside."

"Which one?"

"The man in black."

I felt cold.

I looked for a cinema employee.

Then a security guard.

Then we called the police.

They told me we had to wait.

That Mario had probably left on his own.

That he would surely turn up.

I couldn't wait.

He was my brother.

So I went out to look for him.

—

I found his watch a few blocks from the cinema.

It was broken.

There was blood on one of the straps.

I stared at it for several seconds.

I couldn't breathe.

Mario always wore that watch.

Always.

Then I smelled something strange.

Sweet.

Chemical.

I didn't know what it was.

But years later, I realized it had probably been chloroform.

I kept walking.

I found a few small drops of blood.

Then more.

And more.

Until they disappeared.

That night, I found something else.

An old photograph.

It was a photograph of my parents.

But someone had torn part of it away.

Right where another person should have appeared.

At the bottom was a date.

The date of the accident in which my parents had died.

I don't know why.

But at that moment, I understood something.

Mario's disappearance wasn't an accident.

Someone had planned it.

—

The trail led me to Dard Forest.

I don't know why I went in.

Probably because I was fifteen and desperate.

There was fog.

A lot of it.

The forest seemed different at night.

The trees looked taller.

The silence was too deep.

I walked for hours.

Until I heard something.

A woman.

She was standing among the trees.

She was dressed in white.

Her hair was long and black.

And she was covered in blood.

I couldn't see her face.

"Where is my brother?"

She didn't answer.

Then she began walking toward me.

I stepped backward.

She kept coming.

Then she ran.

I ran too.

I didn't look back.

I don't know how long I ran.

I only remember falling.

And losing consciousness.

—

I woke up in front of a cabin.

The door was open.

I went inside.

It was the worst mistake I made that night.

There were photographs.

Dozens of them.

Children.

All different.

Some looked about my age.

Others were much younger.

And then I saw a photograph of Mario.

He was sitting in a chair.

He looked frightened.

He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing that night.

I heard a noise behind me.

I turned around.

A masked man was standing in the doorway.

The same black coat.

The same man.

"Where is my brother?"

He didn't answer.

He lunged at me.

We fought.

I don't know how I managed to take off his mask.

But I did.

And when I saw his face…

I stopped fighting.

"Uncle Albert?"

It was him.

My uncle.

A man I had believed had disappeared from our lives many years ago.

—

Albert told me the truth.

Or at least part of it.

He told me that my parents' accident hadn't been an accident.

It had been caused.

By him.

According to Albert, my parents were responsible for something that had happened to him years earlier.

Something that had left scars on his face.

He wanted revenge.

And he decided to get it by destroying what my parents loved most.

Us.

Me.

Cindy.

Mario.

"Where is Mario?"

Albert smiled.

"Close."

He said nothing else.

And that was worse.

—

I found Mario locked in a room.

When I saw him, I barely recognized him.

He was weak.

Frightened.

But alive.

"George…"

It was the only thing he said.

I ran toward him.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

"I'm scared."

I hugged him.

"So am I."

It was the first time I had admitted it.

I found a way out.

I managed to open the door.

And we started running.

But Albert found us.

—

We ran through the forest.

Mario could barely stay on his feet.

I carried him whenever he got tired.

Albert was coming after us.

He didn't seem to be in a hurry.

That was what frightened me most.

He knew he could catch us.

At some point, I heard a gunshot.

I fell to the ground.

I felt terrible pain.

Mario screamed.

I tried to get up.

I couldn't.

Then I touched the necklace.

My mother's necklace.

It was hot.

Far too hot.

I gripped it tightly.

And I heard her voice.

I don't know if she was really there.

I don't know if it was a hallucination.

But I heard her.

"Always take care of your little siblings."

The necklace began to glow.

And everything disappeared.

—

I woke up in a room.

Cindy was sitting beside me.

Mario was on the other side.

Alive.

They were both alive.

I thought I was dreaming.

Until I looked at the calendar.

October 1.

I froze.

Mario's disappearance had happened on the 8th.

Seven days remained.

I had gone back in time.

Or so I thought.

For a week, I didn't let Mario get away from me.

Not for a second.

I didn't explain anything to him.

How could I?

Who would have believed that his older brother had died and then woken up a week earlier?

I wouldn't have believed it either.

Until October 8 arrived.

—

I told Cindy to stay home.

I told Mario not to go outside.

And I went to the cinema.

Alone.

I waited.

He didn't take long to appear.

Albert.

The same coat.

The same look.

This time, I wasn't going to let him take my brother.

I followed him.

I waited for the right moment.

And when his back was turned…

I attacked him.

Albert fell.

For a moment, I thought it was all over.

But when I approached him…

he was gone.

He had disappeared.

Only his coat remained.

And a photograph.

I picked it up.

It was a photograph of my parents.

Albert was standing beside them.

But there was someone else.

A fourth person.

Someone I had never seen before.

On the back of the photograph was a sentence.

"This is only the beginning."

—

Five years have passed.

Mario is alive.

So is Cindy.

We live together.

We have a normal life.

At least, that's what I try to tell myself.

We never talked about Albert again.

We never found his body.

We never learned who the fourth person in that photograph was.

And the necklace…

I still have it.

A few months ago, it grew hot again.

Only once.

I was in my room when I felt it.

I pulled it out from beneath my shirt.

The small plate was glowing.

I thought it was a reflection.

Until I heard something.

A voice.

Very low.

On the other side of the door.

"George."

I froze.

It was Albert's voice.

I didn't open the door.

The voice spoke again.

"Did you really think you could change what happened?"

I didn't answer.

Then I heard three knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

And then silence.

I haven't slept well since.

Because there's something I can't stop thinking about.

If I really traveled into the past…

and changed what happened…

then maybe Albert isn't the only thing that changed.

Maybe something else came back with me.

Something that was in that forest.

Something that was in that photograph.

Something my mother knew about.

And if that's true…

then maybe the night at the cinema wasn't the beginning of this story.

Maybe it was only the moment I finally realized that it had already begun.

My name is George Black.

And I'm afraid of hearing those three knocks again.