Arin Vale walked home under the dim glow of flickering streetlights, his boots echoing against the cracked pavement. The city smelled of wet asphalt and smoke, a mixture that had become normal in the years he had lived here. But tonight… something was wrong.
He stopped. The street sign above him—Maple Crescent—was gone. Replaced by a blank, rust-streaked pole.
A shiver ran down his spine. Street signs didn't disappear. Buildings didn't erase themselves.
Arin rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was tired. Maybe the city was just playing tricks.
But then he noticed his neighbor, Mrs. Darnell, standing outside her door, staring blankly at the sidewalk.
"Morning, Mrs. Darnell," he called cautiously.
She didn't answer. Her lips moved slightly, as if forming words, but no sound came out. Her gaze drifted, unseeing.
"Mrs. Darnell?" Arin stepped closer.
She shook her head slowly, as if confused. Then her expression froze.
"Who… who are you?" she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.
"I—I live next door. Arin Vale," he said.
She blinked. "I'm sorry… Vale… who?"
Arin's stomach twisted. He had never seen her like this. It was like she had… forgotten.
The sensation was unsettling, but he forced himself to move forward. His path home felt unfamiliar. The alley he usually passed through had shifted slightly—buildings misaligned, corners that weren't there before. He recognized the smell of the bakery at the corner, but the sign read ????? instead of "Baker's Delight."
"Okay… this isn't normal," he muttered, tugging his coat tighter.
When he reached his front door, the keyhole was gone. Not missing, but… absent. The door itself looked intact, yet the handle seemed to hover slightly, unnaturally.
Arin exhaled, trying to calm himself. He had to be imagining things.
But then he heard a whisper behind him:
"Remember… or vanish."
He spun around. Nothing. Just the mist curling along the street, swallowing everything in a pale, gray haze.
His heartbeat thumped in his chest. Something in the city was alive tonight. Something that erased, that forgot. And somehow… it was watching him.
Arin Vale clenched his fists. He didn't know what was happening. He didn't know why the city had turned against its own people.
But one thing was certain: he would not be forgotten.