R/chloesurreal Link

“You’re late,” the figure said, voice familiar. “We have to rewind yesterday before it becomes today.”

Chloe ran downstairs. The front door opened onto a library that stretched infinitely in all directions, shelves made of rib bones. A small, hooded figure sat on a pile of broken clocks, reading a book titled How to Unbirth Yourself . r/chloesurreal

They stepped together into the photograph. The fire went out. The clocks all struck thirteen. “You’re late,” the figure said, voice familiar

“What am I?” she whispered.

Chloe woke to find her reflection in the bathroom mirror had aged forty years overnight. A small, hooded figure sat on a pile

The figure stood, pulled back its hood. Same face. Same scar on the chin. But the eyes — inverted colors, sclera black, irises white.

Chloe looked down. Her hands were translucent. Through them, she saw the floor — no, not a floor. A photograph of her childhood bedroom, burning slowly at the edges.