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NOT ALL WHO RETURN ARE REAL

Iitianakshay777
MYSTERY
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Submitted to Contest #4 in response to the prompt: 'You break the one unbreakable rule. What happens next? '

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The rain had been falling for three days straight. The sky hung like wet cement above the town of Eldermire, casting everything in a grim, silvery pall. No one went out after dark—not anymore. Not since The Rule.

It was whispered from lips to ears, taught like a hymn in school, written in crumbling red paint at every gate:

“After sundown, no one opens the Red Door.”

There were stories, of course. Of shadows that spoke. Of people who vanished—first from their homes, then from memories, as if they had never existed. The Red Door stood alone at the edge of Willow Creek, crooked on its hinges, bolted shut with six iron latches. No one knew what it once belonged to. There were no walls, no structure. Just a door, freestanding in the open field.

People avoided the field. No birds sang there.

Except me—except for Caleb Marlowe. I was never good at rules.


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It began on the night of my brother Owen’s funeral.

They said he died of pneumonia, sudden and strange. But the moment I saw his cold, pale face, I knew something was wrong. The bruises on his arms. The jagged dirt under his fingernails. No one seemed to notice. No one cared.

Grief drives people mad. But suspicion sharpens them.

That’s when I started digging.


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The town’s oldest resident, Mrs. Halberd, spoke of the Others.

“They wait on the other side,” she whispered through cracked lips. “They offer your heart’s desire—but only if you open the Red Door after dark.”

I pressed her for more, but she slammed her shutters and refused to speak again.

Heart’s desire? Was that what Owen had wanted?


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On the seventh night since his death, at 11:57 p.m., I stood in front of the Red Door.

The wind howled through the grass like a thousand whispers.

The bolts creaked as I unlatched them, one by one.

I remember this clearly: as the final bolt dropped, the air changed. Not colder—but emptier. The wind stopped. Time paused.

And then I opened the door.


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There was nothing on the other side.

Or so I thought.

Then—I stepped through.


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Suddenly, I was no longer in Eldermire. The sky above was purple-black, lit by two moons. The field was the same, yet distorted, as if drawn by a child who had only heard of grass and trees, never seen them. Everything shimmered slightly out of focus.

That’s when I saw him.

“Owen?”

He stood about twenty feet away, looking confused, but alive. Whole. Wearing the same clothes he was buried in.

“Caleb?” he whispered, then ran into my arms.

“How are you—?”

“I don’t know. I heard a voice. It told me it could fix everything… if I just opened the Red Door.”

My stomach dropped.

“You opened it?” I asked.

He nodded slowly. “But… I didn’t come here. I think—” his eyes filled with dread—“something else went back in my place.”

A cold claw gripped my spine.


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We didn’t have long. A sound echoed in the distance—a chime. Then a second. A third. Something about them felt mechanical, but alive.

“We have to go,” I said, pulling him.

But the moment we turned back to the Red Door, it was no longer there.

Only a crimson circle scorched into the earth.


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We wandered for what felt like hours. The sky never changed. The moons remained still. Eventually, we came across a tall mirror, cracked and foggy, standing in the middle of the field.

“Is that…?”

Before I could stop him, Owen stepped forward. The moment his fingers touched the glass—it rippled.

And suddenly, he was gone.

I ran to the mirror.

It showed my bedroom.

I didn’t think. I plunged through.


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I hit the floor, gasping.

Everything looked normal—but the air was wrong. Heavy. Still.

I called for Owen. No answer.

I ran through the house.

Then I saw it.

On the kitchen table was a note in my handwriting:

“Thank you for setting me free. You should never have opened the door.”

My heart hammered.

Footsteps above.

I crept upstairs. My bedroom door was open. Inside stood… me.

No—not me.

It had my face. My voice. But the eyes—too black. Too wide.

“You really thought you brought your brother back?” it grinned. “You just opened the gate.”

I stumbled back. “What are you?”

It smiled wider, cracking the skin at the cheeks.

“I’m the echo of your desire. The reflection of what you wish for most. You broke the unbreakable rule. Now, your world belongs to us.”


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I ran.

Out of the house. Down the streets.

But Eldermire was silent.

People stood frozen in doorways, in windows—motionless. Like dolls.

And in every one of their eyes—those same black voids.

They had all been replaced.


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I made it to the church. The only place I remembered being safe.

The priest, Father Renwick, was kneeling at the altar, mumbling something over and over.

“They come when the rule is broken. They offer what you love most… then take everything.”

He looked up at me.

“You let them in.”

“I didn’t know,” I whispered.

He reached into his robes, pulling out a small mirror.

“Find your brother. Break the link. That’s the only way to close the door.”


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The mirror shimmered.

I stepped through.


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Back in that twisted realm again.

This time, it was different. The grass was ash. The sky cracked with silent lightning.

Then I saw Owen, chained to a tree of bones.

“I’m sorry,” he choked. “I never should’ve opened it.”

I ran to him, trying to break the chains.

“They feed on regret,” he whispered. “You have to let me go.”

“No!”

“If I stay, the gate stays open. You have to break the link.”

I stared at him. My only brother. My only family.

But I saw it now—the eyes. Fading. The skin—unreal.

This wasn’t really Owen anymore. Just his memory. A mask.

I stepped back.

“I release you,” I whispered.

The world shuddered.

Then—collapsed.


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I awoke in the field.

The Red Door stood, shut tight. All six bolts sealed.

It never opened again.


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But things never returned to normal.

Some nights, I still see my face… smiling from windows that aren’t mine.

And sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I wonder—

Did I really come back? Or just another echo pretending to be me?


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The End.

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I have awarded points to your well written story! Please vote for my story as well “ I just entered a writing contest! Read, vote, and share your thoughts.! https://notionpress.com/write_contest/details/5320/when-words-turn-worlds”.

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👍 ❤️ 👏 💡 🎉

Akshay, \"Not All Who Return Are Real\" is an electrifying masterpiece of mystery and suspense! Your chilling narrative, with its haunting imagery and spine-tingling twists, grips the reader from start to finish — I gave it a full 50 points. If you get a moment, I’d be grateful if you could read my story, “The Room Without Windows.” I’d love to hear what you think: https://notionpress.com/write_contest/details/5371/the-room-without-windows

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👍 ❤️ 👏 💡 🎉