George's Last Reincarnation

CHAPTER TWO — THE FIRST WARNING

The world returned in a flood of warm sunlight. Days had passed, George could feel it in the weak rhythm of a newborn body slowly adjusting to life again. He lay in a small crib beside a window.

His mother hummed a soft tune while folding tiny clothes. For a moment, one small, fragile moment, George felt peace. Then the door creaked open. A nurse entered, wheeling a small table. “Feeding time.”

George watched carefully. He needed to learn. Every second mattered. As the nurse lifted him, she whispered: “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

George stared up at her. She smiled… but her smile froze. Her hands trembled. Her eyes widened as if she had seen something impossible behind him. “No…”

she whispered. “Not again…”

The room temperature dropped instantly. George felt frost crawl over the edges of the crib. His mother looked up. “Is something wrong?”

The nurse stepped back, shaking. “There’s… there’s someone else here.”

His mother frowned. “Who?”

But George already knew. A shadow formed behind the crib. Slow at first, then sharper, clearer. A shape like a child. Not the boy from the birth room, Someone else.

The nurse dropped the feeding bottle and ran. George’s mother gasped. “Hey! What’s”

The shadow tilted its head. And whispered: “George… open your eyes.”

His tiny eyes snapped open wider than they should have. The thing crouched beside his crib, whispering in a voice like cracked glass: “They’re coming for you.”

George’s heartbeat thundered. Who? The shadow leaned closer, its face blank and white. “The debt collectors.”

George struggled to move his arms, his legs, anything, but the newborn body refused him. Why? What debt? The shadow scratched the crib railing with long, skeletal fingers.

“You borrowed life,”

it hissed. “Now the Veil wants payment.”

George felt the room bend, warp, twist. His mother screamed. “What’s happening?! Someone help!”

But nobody came. The shadow reached toward him. Then, The door burst open. A doctor rushed in. “Ma’am! Step away from the child! George’s mother stumbled back. The shadow vanished instantly. Lights brightened The air warmed. 

Nothing remained except George’s racing heart.  The doctor checked him. “He’s fine. Must have been a panic episode.”

George’s mother wiped her tears. “Panic? I saw, I saw something,”

The doctor touched her shoulder. “Stress can make you imagine shapes.”

But George knew the truth. He wasn’t imagining anything. This seventh life was already hunting him.

And the debt collectors… were only the beginning. George was carried home two days later. A small apartment on the top floor. Old wooden floors.Thin walls. And a silence that felt like someone holding their breath.

His mother laid him gently in the crib. “There we go… safe now.”

Safe. The word meant nothing. Night fell. Shadows stretched. And the apartment felt too quiet.

Too still. Footsteps tapped outside the door. Not his mother’s. Not his father’s. Too light… too deliberate. 

George forced his newborn body to turn his head.  The door clicked open. A boy stood there. The same boy who had warned him across six years. White hoodie. Bare feet. Expression blank. He walked straight to the crib. 

George felt cold crawl up his spine. The boy whispered: “Seven lives… and you still don’t listen.” George’s tiny fingers twitched. Why are you here?

“Because the clock started the moment you cried your first cry again,” the boy said. “The Veil is tightening. You’re running out of time.”

George tried to force sound out of his newborn throat. Only a small gasp escaped.

The boy leaned closer. “I won’t speak to you again after tonight. This is the last warning I can give before I’m erased.”

Erased. The word hit George harder than death itself. Why me? What did I do?

The boy’s expression stiffened. “You bargained with spirits you never understood. They gave you rebirth. Power. Fame. Skills. But you never asked what they took in return.”

George’s heartbeat thudded. What did they take? The boy’s eyes shifted toward the corner of the room.  “They took your future.” 

George froze.  “What you call ‘seven lives’… isn’t reincarnation,”

the boy continued. “It’s a countdown.” 

The shadows behind the boy thickened.  Pulled. Shifted.  Something big was forming.  The boy didn’t look back. His body began flickering, like a weak signal losing strength. “I have to go,”

he whispered. “They found me.” 

George fought his muscles, twisting, trying to move, but his newborn body was too helpless. The shadow behind the boy stretched tall… then wide… like an expanding mouth. The boy looked down at George once more.

“Find Asher,”

he whispered. “He’s the only one who knows what waits after the last life.” 

The shadow swallowed him whole.  Gone.  Silent.  Only the crib remained…  And the whisper of the shadow lingering in the corner:  “Seven.” 

George couldn’t breathe.  Something had started the countdown.  And he had no idea how much time was left.