The One Who Seeks Death

This is an original work that I created. It is also an urban dark fantasy from the Philippines. Because it is fantasy, certain history or mythology from the Philippines may vary slightly. Also, in my narrative, the government does something, which is how you know it is fantasy. Am I kidding or not? Note: then excuse my grammar and the storyline is a bit fast paced, especially in the earliest chapter. This is designed to depict Gehan (protagonist) how life keeps giving her a hard time, but it will slow down later. If you don’t like it, then drop it. Thank you.

Ps: My characters Drawings are on my wall go to my profile (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

:Psychological horror thriller urban dark fantasy

CHAPTER ONE: The Girl with the Wrong Reflection

I woke up with a weight in my chest tired, uneasy, like I’d been running in my sleep. I sat up slowly, my limbs heavy, heart thudding for reasons I couldn’t name. Strands of my dark brown wavy curls clung to my face; my breathing was shallow.

The silence in the room was loud enough to make my ears ring.

I turned toward the vanity.

My reflection was already smiling.

I wasn’t.

For a long moment, we stared at each other me and the thing in the glass.

Purple eyes met purple eyes, but something about it felt wrong. It wore my face, but not my fear.

Not again,I whispered.

It had been happening more often now. Moments that didn’t make sense. Things that couldn’t be real.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I saw them.

When I opened my eyes again, the reflection was still smiling.

I leaned closer to the mirror, studying it studying myself.

Then I froze.

The mole.

On the reflection, it sat on the tip of her nose.

Mine was under my right eye.

It was such a small detail. So small. But it cracked everything.

My breath caught.

She looked like me. Same purple eyes. Same curls clinging to damp cheeks. But that smile didn’t belong to me. It had never been mine.

And the mole just wrong enough to make the whole face unfamiliar.

Almost like someone was wearing my skin… but hadn’t copied it perfectly.

Figures. Shapes. Faces that didn’t belong.

I had always seen things.

Not always clearly. Not always fully. But ever since I was young, there had been glimpses. Flickers no one else noticed. Shadows that shape like monsters reflection on mirrors that lingered too long.

I learned not to talk about it. People got uncomfortable. Called me strange.

I wanted to believe it wasn’t real. That my mind was just tired. Overactive. Lonely.

But when your reflection smiles before you do when something else looks back at you through your own eyes

It’s hard to pretend.

Harder still when you don’t know if the fear comes from what you’re seeing…

…or from the thought that maybe you’re going mad.

I was terrified, I whispered to myself. I couldn’t look away. That smile it wasn’t mine.

My fingers moved backward slowly until they found the door handle. I gripped it tightly, anchoring myself.

Then I turned.

And I ran.

Down the stairs, my heart slamming against my ribs, breath catching in my throat. By the time I reached the bottom, I doubled over, coughing hard. My lungs burned too weak for this kind of panic. The sleeve of my puffy white blouse stuck to my skin.

Even though it’s hot, especially in my tropical country, I adore this fluffy blouse.

If Mom had seen me running like that, she would’ve scolded me immediately.

But the house was quiet.

Too quiet.

Mom? I called.

No answer.

I checked the kitchen. The living room. Nothing.

Just the low hum of the TV.

I picked up the remote and turned up the volume.

Then I froze.

My face was on the screen.

Gehan Phantom, 22, missing since December 3, 2025.

My stomach dropped.

Missing??? I whispered. The name didn’t even feel like mine.

I grabbed my phone, my hands shaking. The lock screen lit up.

March 18th.

My breath stopped.

March? No… that’s not right. Last I remember, it was December…

I sat up fast, like I could shake the truth loose from my head.

What the hell happened to me?

I scrolled through my contacts and tapped Mom’s name.

The line rang.

Once.

Twice.

Hello? Her voice sounded cautious. Careful.

Mom, it’s me. My voice cracked. Why am I on the news? They’re saying I’m missing

Silence.

Then a shaky breath.

Who is this?

It’s me. Gehan. My throat tightened. Please… what’s going on?

I heard the catch in her breath. The disbelief.

Gehan? Is it really you? Her voice broke. Oh my God… where are you? We’ve been looking for you for months

What are you talking about? I stood up, panic rising in my chest. just woke up! I don’t understand what’s happening. What do you mean I’ve been missing?

I looked around my room. Everything was where it should be. Clothes on the chair. My charger still plugged in.

I’m in the house, Mom. I’m home. I never left… I think.

I didn’t even sound like myself anymore.

She gasped.

Oh my God, Gehan… I’m so happy. You’re home. You’re really home.

Then her voice turned urgent.

Stay there, okay? Just stay. We’re coming right now. I’m messaging everyone. You’ve been found. At last.

The call ended.

I sank into the chair, trembling, and reached for a glass of warm water. The heat steadied me.

Then something shifted.

A memory.

Sharp. Raw.

I saw myself that night crying alone, wishing I could disappear because my life felt like nothing but pain.

Then the image changed.

I was standing in a gloomy village. Old, muted buildings lined the streets. People wore black or faded colors, their faces somber and silent. The air felt heavy, thick with sorrow.

In the center stood a wishing fountain carved with angelic figures baby angels with delicate wings, tears streaming down their cheeks. The water shimmered, reflecting their grief.

Before I could understand more, pain stabbed through my head.

Voices.

Dozens of them.

Whispering. Overlapping. Shouting.

They came from everywhere and nowhere inside my mind and right beside me at the same time.

Please… stop!!! I screamed, pressing my hands over my ears.

But the voices only grew louder.

Then suddenly

Silence.

I opened my eyes.

She was standing in front of me.

A woman who looked like my mother… but wasn’t.

Her face was half-hidden behind a delicate black lace veil. She wore a long black dress, old-fashioned, almost from another era.

Slowly, she reached out her hand.

You need to focus, she said softly, her voice gentle but firm. This will only stop if you find a way to remove her.

The moment her fingers touched my skin, the voices vanished.

Gone.

Like they’d never existed.

I reached toward her, desperate to hold on

But the door burst open.

My family rushed in.

Gehan! Mom cried.

She ran to me and wrapped me in a tight hug, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

For a moment, I let myself sink into the warmth.

But even in her arms…

The questions still burned.

Gehan, where have you been? We’ve been so worried!

I swallowed hard as the shock settled into my bones. Tears welled up before I could stop them.

I… I don’t remember. Nothing at all, I said, my voice trembling.

A few tears slipped down my cheeks.

You’re crying too hard, Mom said gently. You know you can’t have too many emotions right now

your lungs are weak. You could trigger an asthma attack.

She took my hand, her grip firm but careful.

We need to take you to the hospital. Just to be safe.

I nodded. I felt overwhelmed, confused, but I trusted her.

Together, we rushed to catch a tricycle . The city noise blurred around me as I held onto her hand. I felt fragile.

But safe.

At the hospital, the doctors said my asthma and anxiety had likely caused me to lose some of my memories. That explanation felt too simple, but I didn’t argue.

Later, as we were leaving the building, I paused by the window.

That’s when I saw it.

A strange, bright light in the sky.

The air suddenly tasted like copper. bitter and sharp, like sucking on a penny. It made the back of my throat itch, a dry, static heat that signaled my lungs to tighten before the ground even began to tremble.

Before I could say anything, the ground shook violently.

An earthquake.