She Thought She Was Trapped… Until She Saw Who Else Was Inside Part 5

She couldn’t feel the floor.

Not really.

It was there—

but distant.

Unreal.

Like everything else.

Elena stood inside the screen.

And the world outside looked… wrong.

Muted.

Flat.

Like a memory she could still see—

but no longer reach.

Her hands pressed against the surface.

Cold.

Unmoving.

Solid again.

“Let me out…”

Her voice barely existed.

A faint echo—

that never returned.

Outside—

she saw herself.

The other version.

Walking through the room.

Touching things.

Living her life.

Perfect.

Unbothered.

Real.

Elena’s chest tightened.

Painful.

Sharp.

“That’s my life…”

But the words didn’t matter.

Nothing did.

Because she wasn’t there anymore.

She pounded against the screen.

Again.

And again.

And again.

No sound.

No reaction.

No change.

Only the separation.

Only the truth.

Her breathing became uneven.

Panicked.

Shallow.

“I’m still here…”

The words felt weaker now.

Fading.

Like everything else.

And then—

something moved behind her.

Elena froze.

Her entire body locking instantly.

Her breath stopping.

Because she felt it.

Before she even turned.

She wasn’t alone.

Slowly—

very slowly—

she looked over her shoulder.

Shapes.

Dark.

Unclear.

Standing in the distance.

Watching.

Waiting.

More than one.

Many.

Her pulse pounded violently.

Her thoughts collapsing.

“No…”

A whisper.

A realization.

Too late.

One of them stepped forward.

Dragging slightly.

Unnatural.

And as it moved into what little light existed—

Elena saw its face.

Human.

Familiar.

Terrified.

Just like hers.

It stopped a few steps away.

Close enough to see.

Close enough to understand.

“You saw it too, didn’t you?” it said.

The voice dry.

Unused.

Almost broken.

Elena’s breath shattered.

Her chest tightening painfully.

“You tried to stop it.”

A pause.

A hollow sound.

“That’s what we all did.”

Elena’s vision blurred.

Her mind unraveling.

“How long have you been here…?” she whispered.

The figure didn’t answer immediately.

Instead—

it slowly turned its head.

Looking past her.

Toward the screen.

Toward the world outside.

Toward the life she had just lost.

And quietly—

almost gently—

it said:

“Long enough to know…”

A pause.

A truth.

Heavy.

Final.

“They never go back.”