Chapter 1
THE BOY WHO WAS NEVER BORN
Chapter One: The Birthday That Never Happened
11:47 PM — October 17
Elias Vale hated birthdays.
Not because he disliked cake, presents, or the attention people gave him.
He hated birthdays because every year, on the night before his birthday, his mother cried.
And every year, when he asked her why, she gave him the same answer.
"Some things are better left forgotten, Elias."
He had heard those words so many times that he had stopped asking.
Until tonight.
"Elias?"
He looked up from his phone.
His mother stood in the doorway of his bedroom, wearing her usual white nightdress. Her face was pale, and her fingers were wrapped tightly around the doorframe.
"Yes, Mum?"
She stared at him.
For a moment, she looked as though she wanted to say something important. Something she had been carrying for years.
Then she smiled.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart."
Elias glanced at the clock.
"It isn't my birthday yet."
"I know."
"Then why are you wishing me happy birthday?"
His mother swallowed.
"Because I might not get the chance tomorrow."
A strange silence settled between them.
Elias sat up.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing." She stepped into his room and kissed his forehead. "Get some sleep. And whatever happens tomorrow, don't leave this house."
He stared at her.
"Mum, you're scaring me."
She brushed his hair away from his forehead.
For one brief second, her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry, my love."
Then she left.
Elias watched the door close.
He wanted to follow her, but something about her expression stopped him.
Instead, he picked up his phone.
11:52 PM.
Six minutes until his birthday.
He opened his messages and found one from his best friend, Noah.
NOAH: If you don't save me a piece of your birthday cake tomorrow, our friendship is officially over.
Elias laughed.
ELIAS: You're the reason I regret having friends.
NOAH: And yet you love me.
ELIAS: Unfortunately.
NOAH: Happy birthday in advance, idiot. ❤️
Elias smiled and placed the phone beside his pillow.
For the first time that evening, he felt normal.
Then his phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
UNKNOWN: Don't let your mother open the door.
Elias frowned.
He sat up and read it again.
ELIAS: Who is this?
The reply came almost immediately.
UNKNOWN: You have six minutes.
ELIAS: Six minutes until what?
No answer.
Elias called the number.
It didn't ring.
Instead, a recorded voice whispered through the speaker.
His own voice.
"Elias, if you're hearing this, it means I've failed again."
He dropped the phone.
The recording continued.
"Listen carefully. At midnight, someone will knock on your front door. Whatever you hear, whatever they tell you, don't let your mother answer it."
Elias stared at his phone as though it had grown teeth.
The voice sounded exactly like him.
Not similar.
Exactly.
Even the little hesitation before certain words was the same.
He snatched the phone off the floor.
"Who are you?"
The recording paused.
Then his own voice answered.
"I'm you."
A chill crawled down his spine.
"That's impossible."
"I know. You said the same thing last time."
Elias stopped breathing for a moment.
"Last time?"
"Three minutes, Elias. You need to listen to me."
The voice became quieter.
"If you see a boy standing outside the window, don't look at his face."
Elias slowly turned toward his bedroom window.
Nothing.
Only darkness and the reflection of his room.
He laughed nervously.
"This isn't funny."
"I know."
"Whoever you are, I'm calling the police."
"Do that if it makes you feel better. Just don't let her open the door."
The recording ended.
Elias stood motionless for several seconds.
Then he checked the time.
11:59 PM.
He grabbed his phone and hurried into the hallway.
"Mum?"
No answer.
He reached the staircase.
"Mum!"
A floorboard creaked behind him.
He spun around.
His mother stood at the end of the hallway, staring at the front door.
Her face had gone completely white.
Someone was knocking.
Three slow, deliberate knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Elias rushed toward her.
"Mum, don't open it!"
She didn't move.
Instead, she whispered something that made his stomach turn cold.
"Not again."
The knocking stopped.
A man's voice came through the door.
"Mrs. Vale?"
His mother covered her mouth.
"We know he's inside," the man continued. "Please open the door."
Elias grabbed her wrist.
"Who is it?"
She looked at him.
And for the first time in his life, his mother looked at him with pure terror.
"Go upstairs."
"Mum—"
"GO!"
The lights went out.
Elias stumbled backward.
A bright flash illuminated the hallway through the narrow window beside the door.
For one second, he saw the silhouette of someone standing outside.
Then came a voice.
A young man's voice.
"Happy birthday, Elias."
The clock struck midnight.
And somewhere inside the house, a woman began screaming.
---
12:16 AM
Elias woke up on the living-room floor.
His head hurt.
The lights were back on, and the front door was closed.
His mother was nowhere to be seen.
He pushed himself upright.
"Mum?"
Silence.
He hurried through the house, checking every room.
The kitchen.
The bathroom.
His parents' bedroom.
Nothing.
Her phone lay on the kitchen counter. Her slippers were beside the stairs.
It was as though she had simply vanished.
Elias called her number.
A phone began ringing upstairs.
He followed the sound to her bedroom.
The ringing came from beneath the bed.
He knelt and reached underneath.
His fingers touched something cold.
A small metal box.
Inside it were photographs, a folded hospital document, and a yellowed envelope bearing his name.
ELIAS VALE.
His hands trembled as he opened the envelope.
There was only one sheet of paper inside.
My dearest Elias,
If you're reading this, then I've failed to keep you safe.
I need you to understand something.
You were never supposed to turn nineteen.
I'm sorry.
Elias read the words again.
Then again.
His eyes moved to the hospital document.
It was a birth record.
His name was printed at the top.
But beneath it, where the date and time of birth should have been, someone had written a single sentence.
LIVE BIRTH NOT RECORDED.
Elias felt the room tilt.
"What the hell..."
His phone vibrated.
Another message from the unknown number.
UNKNOWN: Look outside.
He approached the window slowly.
A young man stood across the street beneath a flickering streetlight.
Tall. Dressed in black. His face turned toward the house.
Even from a distance, Elias could see that he was crying.
The phone vibrated again.
UNKNOWN: His name is Lucien Cross.
UNKNOWN: He remembers you.
Elias looked up.
The stranger raised his head.
Their eyes met through the glass.
And Lucien smiled sadly, as if he had been waiting nineteen years for this exact moment.
Elias's phone vibrated one final time.
UNKNOWN: Ask him why he buried you.
Elias looked back at the street.
Lucien was gone.
And from somewhere behind him, his mother's voice whispered:
"Don't trust the boy who remembers."
Elias spun around.
The hallway was empty.
His mother was still missing.
But someone had just spoken from inside his house.
Someone who sounded exactly like her.
End of Chapter One.
