A Town Called Perfection
Jack noticed something being off the first time he woke up in the spacious place of his bedroom. The window had been opened slightly, but the air that filled the room was bland and almost stale. There was no wind either, which gave him a strange feeling in his gut, like he didn’t belong here.
In the dresser in his room had been multiple outfits, yet all of them were the same. He wasted no time with dressing up, and checked all the rooms in the house, but no one else was there.
He set out for the street, surprised by the endless amount of houses in the same style and size. But the biggest shock was the thing that covered the entire place; a glass bowl, a cage, a dome one might call it.
Was he the only one trapped here? Did it matter? He needed to get out of this place.
He planned on running out of the street, but to his surprise, saw another person stepping out of one of the houses a little further away. He gave an almost desperate call to pull their attention.
They ignored the voice at first, coming to the conclusion they had imagined it only for it to get louder and more familiar, turning to find an all too familiar face. “Jack...?”
The figure sounded like him, there was no mistaking that accent and voice but then how was Wellesley sure their mind hadn’t just cooked up the other whilst starved of contact with anyone bar his own reflection.
Imagination or not, they find themselves moving towards the figure, walking at first before jogging and then breaking into an all out sprint.
