David sat alone in his dimly lit study, a single candle casting eerie shadows on the walls. He clutched the crumpled envelope in his trembling hands, his heart pounding with dread. The letter inside, with his own handwriting, had arrived mysteriously on his doorstep that evening.
As he slowly unfolded the parchment, the words revealed a chilling tale of his impending demise. It described in vivid detail the events leading up to his death, each moment growing darker and more ominous. David's eyes widened as he read about a fatal accident, the date and time chillingly specific.
A cold sweat formed on his brow, and he glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed the time that matched the letter. Panic welled up within him as he realized the inevitability of the situation. The letter even described the feelings of despair that would overcome him.
He tried to tear his gaze away from the text, but it held an unshakable grip on his mind. His breath grew shallow as he read about his final moments and the creeping darkness that would consume him. It was as if he was watching his own life slip away, powerless to change the outcome.
With trembling fingers, he reached the end of the letter. It concluded with a haunting message: "It is too late, David." In that moment, he felt a strange detachment from reality, as if he were hovering above his own life. The room around him seemed to blur, and the candle's flame danced wildly.
And then, as the candle extinguished itself with a sputter, David finally comprehended the horrifying truth. He had been reading the letter after he had already died, trapped in a nightmarish loop of fate, unable to escape the inescapable.
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