Chapter 3 The Town of Familiar Strangers

The morning sun cast a dull, yellow light over Ravenwood as Alex stepped out of the house, the cool air brushing against their skin. Ellie had insisted they rest the day before, but Alex couldn't shake the feeling of unease. There was something about this town, something about the people here, that felt off. They needed to understand more, to piece together whatever was unraveling in their mind.

The road that led from the house wound through the town, the houses growing denser, their windows all but staring at Alex as they walked. The streets were eerily quiet, but as Alex passed, people emerged from their homes, greeting them with the same warmth, the same unwavering smiles. It was as if they knew Alex, as if they had been expecting them to come.

"Morning, Alex!" an elderly man called from his porch, a weathered face and gnarled hands waving in the air. His voice was too cheerful for the town's silence.

"Good morning," Alex replied, offering a strained smile. It felt strange to be greeted by name by a complete stranger.

The man seemed pleased by Alex's recognition, though it hardly seemed earned. "It's so good to see you out and about. You've been through a lot, haven't you? We've all been praying for your recovery."

"Uh, thanks," Alex said, their voice distant. They felt the need to walk away, but the man's friendly face made them hesitate, uncertain of how to act.

As Alex continued walking, more people greeted them. A middle-aged woman passed by, walking a small terrier on a leash, and waved, her smile too wide, too perfect.

"Hope you're feeling better today, Alex!" she called out, her voice sing-song.

"Yeah, thanks," Alex replied, voice tight, as they tried to move past her. It was all too much. The warm, familiar greetings that didn't feel earned, the names they recognized but had no recollection of-everything felt like a badly rehearsed play.

The further Alex walked, the more they noticed something else. The town seemed frozen, stuck in time. There were no cars, no bikes, no signs of modern life. The only vehicles were old trucks that looked like they hadn't been used in years, parked in driveways with leaves scattered on their hoods. The shops had faded signs, advertising goods that felt like they belonged in the past. The local bakery had a hand-painted sign hanging above its door, the paint peeling, as if it hadn't been touched in decades.

No cell service. No Wi-Fi. No internet.

Alex reached for their phone instinctively, but the screen flickered with a message: No service. The thought of reaching out, calling someone, anyone, to make sense of this, was immediately crushed.

The whole town felt like a relic-like something stuck in an era long past, and no one seemed to question it.

A small bell chimed as Alex walked past a quaint little clinic near the edge of the town square. The sign above the door read Dr. Walter Grayson, Family Physician. Something in Alex's gut twisted at the sight of it. The small, single-story building, its windows fogged, felt oddly out of place, yet somehow welcoming. Almost like it was waiting for them.

As if on instinct, Alex pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The scent of antiseptic and old paper filled the air. The interior was sparse, with worn chairs lining the walls and a small reception desk. The woman behind the desk looked up at Alex, her eyes wide and warm.

"Good morning, Alex. Dr. Grayson is expecting you. He's been so concerned about your recovery," she said with a tone so sweet it almost felt syrupy.

"Um... expecting me?" Alex asked, confused.

"Oh, yes," the woman replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "He's been keeping an eye on your condition. He'll explain everything."

The door to the back office swung open, and a man in his late fifties appeared. He was tall, with graying hair and sharp features. His glasses perched on the end of his nose as he looked over at Alex, his expression one of quiet concern.

"Ah, Alex, so glad you stopped by," Dr. Grayson said with a warm smile, extending his hand. "Come on in. I think we need to talk."

Alex shook his hand, the doctor's grip firm but not overpowering. There was something reassuring about his presence, but also something unsettling. Like he knew more than he was letting on.

The office was clean, sparse, and a little too perfect. Everything in its place, nothing out of order. Dr. Grayson gestured toward a chair, and Alex sat down across from him, their mind still swirling with questions.

"So, how are you feeling today?" Dr. Grayson asked, his voice calm and professional.

"I'm... I don't know," Alex admitted, rubbing their temples. "I still don't remember anything. Where am I? What's going on here?"

Dr. Grayson sat back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "It's not unusual, Alex. What you're experiencing is called temporary amnesia. Your memory loss is likely due to a traumatic event-a shock to your system that your mind is struggling to process. But don't worry, you're in good hands. We've all been so concerned about you. The town... well, we're all here for you."

"Temporary amnesia?" Alex repeated, the words swirling in their head. It didn't make sense. But then again, nothing here seemed to make sense.

Dr. Grayson continued, his tone soothing. "You've been through quite an ordeal, and recovery takes time. You'll remember. Things will come back to you gradually. For now, just focus on taking care of yourself."

Alex nodded absently, their thoughts racing. Temporary amnesia. It was the answer they had been given, the explanation that seemed so simple-too simple. But as Dr. Grayson continued to speak, something gnawed at Alex. There's more to this. There has to be.

The town. The people. Ellie. The house. The whispers from the basement. None of it felt like part of a normal life. Something was off.

But Dr. Grayson's calm voice, his assurance that everything was fine, made it hard to argue. Maybe they really had lost their memory. Maybe this was just a phase.

Then again, maybe they had stumbled into something much darker. Something they weren't ready to understand.

"We'll get you sorted out," Dr. Grayson said, standing up. "I'll prescribe you something to help with the headaches. Rest is important. And if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

Alex stood, unsure of how to respond. "Thanks," they said, still unsure of what to make of this strange encounter.

Dr. Grayson smiled warmly again. "Take care, Alex. Everything will be fine. You'll see."

As Alex left the clinic, the door closing softly behind them, they couldn't shake the feeling that the doctor's words, the town's endless smiles, and the eerie stillness of the place were all just a little too perfect. Too rehearsed. Too familiar.

Everything was fine. But was it?

The whispers of the basement echoed in Alex's mind once more, as the town of familiar strangers continued to watch, wait, and smile.