Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

The woman who had spoken before moved closer, pulling out a chair across from him. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as if not wanting to startle him. "Jude," she said softly. "We know this is overwhelming. But you're not alone in this."

Jude scoffed, though there was no real humor in it. "I feel pretty damn alone right now."

The man at the head of the table leaned forward, folding his hands together. "You're not. You've just been made to believe you are."

Jude's fingers tightened around the edges of the photograph. "What does that even mean?"

The woman exhaled, glancing briefly at the others before returning her gaze to him. "It means that everything you know, everything you remember—might not be as real as you think it is."

A sharp chill ran through Jude's spine, though he wasn't sure why. His mind wanted to reject it outright, to call it nonsense. But that nagging feeling, the one that had always whispered in the back of his thoughts, wouldn't let him dismiss it so easily.

"You're saying my whole life is fake?" His voice was low, careful.

"No," the woman said. "Not fake. Just… altered."

Jude let out a shaky breath, shaking his head. "That's insane."

"Is it?" The man at the table tilted his head slightly. "Think about it. The moments you can't explain. The changes you've noticed but ignored. Haven't you ever felt like things around you aren't quite right?"

Jude opened his mouth, then closed it. His thoughts were racing, colliding against one another like a storm that had suddenly been let loose in his mind. He had felt that way. Many times. But he had always found a reason, an excuse to brush it off.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again. "Why me? Why any of us?"

The woman hesitated. "We don't know yet. But we believe people like us… we're different. We notice things others don't."

Jude ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "So what now? You expect me to just accept that my memories are being messed with and move on?"

"No," the man said simply. "We expect you to help us find out why."

Jude let out a slow breath, his heartbeat still uneven. None of this felt right, but at the same time, it felt too right. Like a puzzle piece he hadn't even known was missing had suddenly been placed in front of him.

"I don't even know where to start," he admitted.

The woman offered a small, reassuring nod. "That's why we're here."

For the first time since stepping into the room, Jude allowed himself to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone in this as he had always thought.

Jude sat in silence, his fingers absently tracing the edges of the photograph. The room around him felt both too real and too distant, like a dream he was struggling to wake from. The woman and the others in the room watched him with quiet patience, as if they knew he needed time to process everything. But how was he supposed to process something that shattered everything he believed to be true?

He finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. "You keep saying things aren't what they seem. That my memories might have been altered. But how do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know you're not just… messing with me?"

The woman leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. "We don't expect you to believe us right away. That's not how this works. But we can show you."

Jude hesitated. "Show me how?"

The man at the head of the table spoke now. "There are ways to see through the cracks. But it takes effort. And it takes trust."

Jude clenched his jaw. Trust. That was a word he had never given away easily. And yet, despite everything, a part of him wanted to believe them. Because deep down, he had always felt that something wasn't right. That feeling he had carried for years, the moments where the world didn't seem to fit quite right—were they signs of something bigger?

The woman must have sensed his thoughts, because she offered a small smile. "You're not the first to struggle with this, Jude. None of us accepted it easily at first. But once you start looking, really looking, you won't be able to unsee it."

Jude let out a slow breath. "And if I don't want to see it?"

"Then you walk away," the man said simply. "No one is forcing you to stay."

The choice sat heavy in Jude's mind. Walk away, pretend none of this happened, go back to his life as it was before… or stay, dig deeper, and risk finding answers he wasn't ready for.

His fingers tightened around the photograph. "Fine. Show me."

The woman exchanged a glance with the others before nodding. "Alright. Come with us."

Jude followed them out of the room, his mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. They led him down a narrow hallway, the air growing colder as they moved forward. The building felt older here, as if it belonged to a different time entirely. The walls were lined with old photographs, newspaper clippings—pieces of a puzzle he didn't yet understand.

They stopped in front of a heavy door. The woman placed her hand on the handle, pausing before pushing it open. "What you see in here… it might not make sense at first. But keep your mind open."

Jude nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at his stomach.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room. In the center was a single chair, surrounded by what looked like monitors and wires. The setup reminded him of something out of a sci-fi movie.

The man gestured toward the chair. "Sit."

Jude hesitated before stepping forward and lowering himself into the seat. As soon as he did, the woman moved beside him, adjusting the small device attached to one of the monitors. "This will help you see," she explained.