Chapter 2: The Hunger Beneath the Crust
By midday, the village had changed.
Not visibly. Not in any way anyone could easily explain.
But people kept stopping mid-sentence.
Dogs refused to bark.
And every clock in the village began ticking out of sync.
Elias kept the bakery closed, but the shared basket remained outside.
And the loaf… was still there.
Unchanged in shape, but not in presence.
People who passed it said they felt “watched.”
At dusk, the boy returned.
This time, he didn’t hesitate. He picked up the loaf.
“Don’t,” Elias said quickly. “If something is wrong with it—”
“It’s not wrong,” the boy interrupted. “It’s remembering.”
Another sudden noise struck.
This time louder.
The bakery shutters rattled violently.
And the loaf cracked open wider.
Inside, there was no bread.
Only a folded piece of paper.
Elias snatched it before the boy could read it.
The ink was fresh.
May you like
But the handwriting…
was his own.
