“Don’t open it.”
Dizzy’s voice cracks behind me. She never lets her voice crack. That alone nearly makes me turn around.
My hand rests on the brass knob. Cold. Too cold for a house that’s been closed all summer.
“Riven,” she says again, softer this time. “We should go.”
Behind her, Bowdy shifts his weight on the warped floorboards. They screech under him. The whole house groans like it’s breathing.
We shouldn’t be here. That’s obvious. But the door is right in front of me, calling my name. And the note in my pocket says it’s the last one.
“Just a look,” I say.
Bowdy quietly laughs. “You’ve been saying that since the basement.”
The basement. I don’t respond. My fingers tighten on the knob.
Dizzy steps closer. Her boots crunch on broken plaster. “The note said don’t open the last door.”
“No,” I say. “It said you’ll understand when you reach the last door.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Exactly.”
I turn the knob. That latch clicks.
Bowdy swears under his breath. The door swings. The room beyond is empty.
At first.
Just bare floorboards, gray walls, and a single chair in the middle of the room. Dust floats in the beam of Bowdy’s flashlight.
“That’s… it?” Bowdy says. “We broke into a condemned house for furniture?”
The chair faces away from us.
Dizzy grabs my sleeve. “Riven. Let’s just leave.”
I step inside. The floor creaks. The air smells like wet wood and metal.
“Riven,” she says again.
I ignore her. The chair is ten feet away. Maybe twelve. Bowdy follows reluctantly, but Dizzy stays near the door.
“See?” Bowdy mutters. “Nothing here.”
Then the chair moves. Not much. Just a tiny shift. Like someone adjusting their weight.
Bowdy stops breathing.
The chair slowly turns. The man sitting in it looks exactly like me.
Bowdy whispers something, maybe some swears, maybe a prayer.
Dizzy doesn’t move at all.
The man in the chair just sits there and slowly smiles at us.
“Finally,” he says.
His voice sounds the same as mine.
I take one step back. The man in the chair watches me like he’s been waiting all day. Maybe all year.
“Who are you?” Bowdy says. The man ignores him. His eyes stay on me.
“You took longer than expected,” he says. I swallow.
“You look like me.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
“No.”
Bowdy shines the flashlight directly at the man's face. He doesn’t flinch.
Dizzy finally steps into the room. “Riven,” she says quietly, “we should leave.”
The man laughs.
“You can’t leave now,” he says.
“Watch us,” Bowdy mutters under her breath.
The man tilts his head.
“You opened the door.”
“So?” Bowdy says.
“So now the choice has to be made.”
“Choice? What choice?” Dizzy says.
The man finally looks in her direction. That at Bowdy. Then back to me.
“There are always three of you,” he says. “The one who arrives. The one who doubts. And the one who warns.”
Bowdy frowns. “You’re not even making any sense.”
The man shrugs.
“It always sounds like nonsense until the end.”
My heart is pounding.
“You sent the note,” I say.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“So you would show up.”
“Why me?”
He smiles again.
“Because you’re me.”
Bowdy grins. “Okay, that’s enough with the creepy philosophy.”
He grabs my arm.
“We’re gonna leave.”
The man in the chair stands. Bowdy freezes. For a second it feels like looking into a mirror that moved when you didn’t.
Same height. Same face. Same scar above the eyebrow.
Bowdy slowly lets go of my arm.
“What the hell is going on?” he whispers.
Future Riven walks toward us.
Each step matches the rhythm of my breathing and my heartbeat.
“You came here to understand something,” he says.
“No. I came here because you sent me a note.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
He steps a few feet away.
“Every version of you says that.”
I immediately get goosebumps.
“Version?”
He gestures around the room.
“This house isn’t abandoned.”
Bowdy laughs. “It definitely is.”
“No,” Future Riven says. “It’s a crossroads.”
Dizzy’s voice is barely audible. “Riven…”
“Crossroads for what?” I ask.
“For you.”
I rubbed my hand against my forehead.
“This is crazy.”
“Yes,” he says calmly. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Bowdy raises the flashlight again.
“Let me guess,” he says. “You’re going to say time travel.”
Future Riven looks impressed.
“Close enough.”
Bowdy lowers the flashlight slowly.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No,” Bowdy repeats.
Future Riven sighs.
“This moment happens many times,” he says. “Different paths. Different choices.”
“And you’re what?” I ask.
“The result of one of those choices.”
Dizzy just stares at all of us.
“Which one?”
“The wrong one.”
Silence fills the room. Bowdy breaks it.
“So we just stumbled into a cosmic therapy session?”
Future Riven just shakes his head.
“You came here to stop me.”
“Stop you from what?” I say.
His smile fades.
“From doing what you’re about to do.”
I blink.
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Well, not yet.”
The air feels heavier around us. Bowdy shifts again.
“You’re losing us, man.”
Future Riven just ignores him and continues.
“You're here because of the accident that’s going to happen tomorrow.”
My stomach drops.
“What accident?” Dizzy says.
I stare at Future Riven.
“You’re lying; tomorrow hasn’t happened.”
“For you.”
Dizzy steps forward. “What accident?”
Future Riven keeps watching me.
“Riven drives too fast,” he says quietly. “Bowdy tells a joke. Dizzy looks at her phone.”
Bowdy shakes his head. “Just stop.”
“The truck runs the light.”
“Stop.”
“Bowdy dies instantly.”
Bowdy’s mouth hangs open.
“Dizzy doesn’t,” Future Riven continues. “Not right away.”
Dizzy backs away towards the door.
“You’re lying,” I say again.
“Am I?”
My hands are shaking.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I expect you to recognize it.”
Something cold settles in my chest.
“Recognize what?”
“Why you came here.”
I don’t respond.
Future Riven nods slowly.
“You see it now.”
Bowdy looks between us.
“What am I missing?”
I close my eyes.
The note. The handwriting. My handwriting.
“You didn’t send the note,” I say.
Future Riven smiles faintly.
“You did.”
Bowdy laughs once.
“Great. Riven has been sending himself mail from the future.”
I open my eyes.
“You survived.”
Future Riven nods.
“Yes.”
“And you came back.”
“Yes.”
“To stop the accident.”
“Yes.”
Bowdy exhales. You can tell he’s getting annoyed. “Okay. Good plan.”
Future Riven’s expression hardens.
“I didn’t stop it.”
The room goes quiet again.
“Well, why not?” Dizzy whispers.
Future Riven looks at me.
“Because you refused.”
My throat tightens.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“You said the same thing.”
Bowdy steps forward.
“Enough with the riddles.”
He points at Future Riven.
“If you know what’s going to happen, just tell him what to do.”
Future Riven shakes his head.
“I did.”
“And?”
“And he still made the same choice.”
Bowdy looks at me.
“What choice?”
Future Riven answers.
“He saved Bowdy.”
Bowdy blinks.
“Wait… that’s good.”
“No,” Future Riven says.
“Why not?”
“Because Dizzy dies instead.”
Dizzy stares at the floor. The boards creak under my feet.
“So what,” Bowdy says slowly, “this is some… like messed-up math problem?”
Future Riven nods once.
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“Yes.”
Bowdy points at me.
“So what’s the solution?”
Future Riven looks tired.
“There isn’t one.”
I shake my head.
“That's not possible.”
“You tried every version.”
“You did.”
“Yes.”
“Then why would you bring me here?”
Future Riven steps closer.
“Because you haven’t tried the right choice yet.”
“And that is?”
He looks at Bowdy. Then Dizzy. Then me.
“You.”
Bowdy frowns. “What do you mean? What about him?”
Future Riven meets my eyes.
“You’re the one who dies.”
Nobody speaks or makes any movement. My heart pounds louder than the house.
“That’s your solution?” Bowdy says.
“Yes.”
“No,” Bowdy says immediately.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Dizzy finally looks up from the ground.
“If Riven dies,” she says slowly, “we both live.”
Future Riven nods.
Bowdy shakes his head violently.
“No.”
I feel strangely calm.
“So that’s the only way to save them?” I ask.
“Yes.”
Bowdy grabs me by my shoulders.
“You aren’t going to do that. You can’t.”
“Bowdy-”
“No.”
Future Riven watches us.
“You said the same thing,” he tells Bowdy.
Bowdy gives him a death stare.
“Good.”
Dizzy’s eyes fill with tears.
“You knew,” she says to me.
I hesitate.
The note in my pocket feels much heavier than a piece of paper should.
“Yes.”
Bowdy stares.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“And you dragged us here anyway?”
“I had to see.”
“See what?”
I look at Future Riven.
“If it was real.”
Future Riven nods.
“Well, now you know.”
Bowdy paces around the room.
“This is insane.”
“Yes,” Future Riven says, once again.
Bowdy points at him.
“You’re the one who should die.”
Future Riven smiles sadly.
“I already did.”
Bowdy stops.
“What?”
“Every version of this ends with me dying,” he says quietly.
Dizzy wipes her eyes.
“Then why are you here?”
“To change the outcome.”
Bowdy scoffs.
“But you just said that it couldn’t change.”
Future Riven looks at me.
“It can.”
“How?” I ask.
He takes a slow breath.
“Because this time,” he says, “you came here before the accident actually happened.”
The realization hits like a punch.
“Meaning?”
“You still have the choice.”
Bowdy shakes his head again.
“No.”
I pull the note from my pocket.
The handwriting is unmistakable. Mine. Three words at the bottom.
Don’t drive tomorrow.
I laugh quietly. Bowdy stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“That’s it?” he says.
“That’s it.”
Future Riven smiles.
“You finally saw it.”
Bowdy looks between us.
“Someone please explain.”
I hold up the note for them to see.
“The accident only happens if I’m driving.”
Bowdy blinks.
“So… don’t drive.”
“Exactly.”
Dizzy’s voice is barely a whisper.
“That means nobody has to die.”
Future Riven nods.
“For the first time.”
Bowdy lets out a long, deep breath.
“You could’ve led with that.”
Future Riven shrugs.
“You wouldn’t have believed me.”
Bowdy considers that. “Well… that’s fair.”
I look at Future Riven.
“What happens to you now?”
He studies the room like he’s watching it fade away.
“I disappear.”
“You seem okay with that.”
He smiles faintly.
“I’ve been waiting a long time.”
Dizzy squeezes my arm.
“Riven,” she says softly.
I nod.
“We’re going home.”
Future Riven steps back toward the chair.
“Good.”
Bowdy starts toward the door.
“Let’s get out of this haunted therapy house.”
I turn to follow. But, then Future Riven begins to speak again.
“Wait… there’s one more thing.”
I glance back.
“What?”
He smiles.
“I told you Bowdy dies instantly.”
Bowdy stops walking.
“I told you Dizzy dies slowly.”
Dizzy stiffens up.
“But I never mentioned what happened to you.”
The room feels colder. I stare at him.
“You said that I survived.”
Future Riven shakes his head slowly.
“No, I didn’t.”
The chair creaks as he sits.
“I said I survived.”
My pulse stutters. Bowdy frowns.
“What's the difference?”
Future Riven’s smile fades.
“Because,” he says quietly, “in every version where you don’t drive…”
He gestures toward Bowdy.
“...you do.”
Bowdy blinks. “So?”
“So the crash still happens,” Future Riven says.
Dizzy grips the doorframe.
“And Riven?” she whispers.
Future Riven meets my eyes.
“The truck always hits his side.”
The words hang in the air.
Bowdy shakes his head. “That’s not possible.”
“In one version Riven drives,” Future Riven continues. “The truck hits the driver’s side.”
He points to Bowdy.
“You die instantly.”
Bowdy goes still.
“In another version Riven refuses to drive. You take the wheel instead.”
Bowdy swallows.
“And the truck still hits the same side of the car.”
Dizzy’s voice breaks.
“Riven.”
I already understand.
Future Riven nods slowly.
“It doesn’t matter who’s driving.”
He looks straight at me.
“You always pull the wheel.”
A cold realization settles in my chest.
Bowdy whispers, “Pull the wheel…”
Future Riven answers.
“To protect them.”
The house creaks softly around us.
“In every version,” he says, “the car swerves.”
Bowdy’s flashlight trembles.
“And the truck still hits.”
Dizzy wipes her eyes.
“But if Bowdy is driving…”
Future Riven finishes the sentence for her.
“Riven is sitting in the passenger seat.”
Silence floods the room. Then he says the final words quietly.
“And the truck hits Riven’s side of the car.”
Bowdy’s flashlight flickers. The beam lands on his shaking hands.
And for the first time since we entered the house, Bowdy doesn’t say a word.
Bio:
Kayleigh is a student writer with a strong interest in fiction and storytelling. She is currently developing her craft through coursework and independent projects, with a focus on character-driven narratives and suspense. "The Final Door" is one of her recent works.
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