Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

Jude shook his head. "Why would I go there?"

The man's expression didn't change. "Because you're looking for answers."

Jude let out a short, humorless laugh. "And you have them?"

"I have enough," the man said. "The rest, you'll have to find on your own."

Jude looked down at the address again. It wasn't far. Somewhere in the older part of the city. He didn't recognize it.

When he looked up, the man was already moving toward the door.

"Wait," Jude said. "If I don't go?"

The man paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Then you'll keep feeling it. The shift. The questions. The uncertainty."

Jude didn't speak.

The man nodded slightly. "I'll see you there."

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Jude stood there for a long moment, the address still clutched in his hand.

His heart was pounding.

He didn't know why.

Jude sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the small piece of paper in his hand. The address was scrawled in neat, precise handwriting, and no matter how many times he looked at it, it didn't make any more sense. The man had left without further explanation, leaving Jude with only the growing sense that he was teetering on the edge of something he didn't understand. He could ignore it. He could crumple the paper, toss it in the trash, and pretend this night had never happened. But deep down, he knew that wouldn't change anything. The feeling wouldn't go away.

The shift. That's what the man had called it.

Jude exhaled sharply and leaned back against the mattress, letting the paper slip from his fingers onto the nightstand. He wasn't in the mood to chase after shadows, but the thought of not knowing gnawed at him. He hated being left with questions. And right now, everything around him felt like a question with no clear answer.

He closed his eyes, willing his mind to settle. Sleep didn't come easily these days. It felt like every time he let his guard down, something inside him stirred, pushing him toward a place he wasn't sure he wanted to go. But eventually, exhaustion won. His thoughts blurred, his breathing slowed, and the weight of the night pulled him under.

The next morning, Jude woke to the sound of his phone vibrating against the wooden nightstand. He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face before reaching for it. The screen flashed with an unknown number. He hesitated before answering.

"Yeah?"

Silence.

Then, a click.

Jude pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the screen as the call ended abruptly. He frowned, checking the call history. The number had no name attached to it.

Shoving the phone into his pocket, he got up and moved toward the window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting long shadows across the floor. The world outside moved as it always did—cars passing, people walking, the occasional distant sound of a dog barking. Everything looked normal. But Jude felt anything but normal.

His eyes flicked toward the small paper on the nightstand.

The address.

He told himself he was being ridiculous. There was no reason to go. No reason to trust some stranger who showed up at his door in the middle of the night.

But he was already reaching for his jacket.

By the time night fell, Jude found himself standing outside an old, nondescript building in a quiet part of the city. The street was empty, the distant hum of traffic the only sound breaking the silence. The address matched.

A single, flickering streetlight cast uneven shadows across the entrance. The building looked abandoned, the kind of place people walked past without a second glance. The windows on the upper floors were dark, and the paint on the walls was peeling.

Jude hesitated. Every part of him was telling him to turn around. Walk away.

Instead, he stepped forward and knocked.

At first, nothing happened. The sound of his knuckles against the wood echoed in the stillness. Then, after a long moment, the door creaked open.

A woman stood there, her dark eyes studying him carefully. She didn't look surprised to see him. If anything, she looked like she had been expecting him.

"Jude Carter?"

He exhaled slowly. "Yeah."

She stepped aside. "Come in."

Jude hesitated, glancing past her into the dimly lit interior. A single hanging lightbulb flickered above a narrow hallway, casting everything in a dull yellow glow. Something about the air inside felt different. He couldn't explain it.

Still, he stepped inside.

The door closed behind him with a quiet click.

The woman led him down the hallway without a word. Jude followed, his footsteps barely making a sound against the worn wooden floor. The walls were lined with old, framed photographs, though the images inside them were too faded to make out.

At the end of the hallway, she stopped and turned to him.

"You don't know why you're here, do you?"

Jude shook his head. "Not really."

She studied him for a moment before nodding. "That's normal."

Jude frowned. "What is this place?"

Instead of answering, she pushed open a door and stepped inside.

Jude followed.

The room was larger than he expected. A long wooden table sat in the center, surrounded by mismatched chairs. Several people were already there, their gazes shifting toward him as he entered. Some looked curious. Others unreadable.

The man from last night was there too, sitting at the far end of the table.

"You came," he said, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Jude crossed his arms. "Figured I'd see what this was about."

The man nodded as if that was the answer he expected. "Good."

Jude's gaze swept over the others in the room. He didn't recognize any of them, but something about the way they sat, the way they watched him, made it clear they were all here for the same reason.

"You feel it, don't you?" the man said.