Year 2030
Under a cold and stormy rain, a lone figure staggered out of a dark alley.
That wouldn't have been strange—except he was clutching his head, drenched in blood.
He walked with a zombie-like gait, shivering under the downpour, each step revealing how much pain he was in. Behind him, a pool of black blood slowly spread, seeping into the cracked pavement. Beside it lay a hand—dry, ashen, and withered like that of a long-dead corpse. The fingers twitched slightly before dissolving into wisps of black smoke.
But the smoke did not simply fade into the air. Instead, it drifted toward the staggering man, coiling around his back like a malevolent shroud watching.
The figure stopped before a modest house, shoulders shaking with exhaustion. His trembling hands fumbled in his coat pocket, pulling out a cluster of keys. After a frustrating moment, he finally found the right one and slid it into the lock. With a soft click, the door opened.
He slipped inside and shut the door quickly behind him. A visible wave of relief washed over his battered form as he turned on the lights. Without hesitation, he headed for the bathroom.
Staring into the mirror, his reflection slowly came into focus.
A young man with disheveled blonde hair and delicate, almost feminine features gazed back at him. His hair was soaked and stained red with dried blood. His pupils were dilated with shock and fatigue. He breathed heavily, his body trembling uncontrollably. He had just escaped the strangest, most horrifying ordeal of his life.
---
He was rushing home from his part-time job to avoid the changing weather when it appeared.
Without warning, a withered gray hand had lunged out of the shadows and yanked him into an abyssal coat of a dark alley and before he could react, he came face to face with a creature from nightmares.
An abomination.
It had two extremely twisted and grotesque faces fused onto one twisted head. Hollow, black eyes like pits of endless despair. Its shriveled, desiccated body looked as though every drop of blood and moisture had been sucked dry. The sight alone sent a jolt of terror coursing through Kaleem's veins, his skull feeling as if it might shatter.
Fear surged through him like a living thing.
The creature whispered in a voice like grinding bone and crumbling stone, rattling his mind with incomprehensible ravings as thick saliva fell from its fang-filled mouth as it inched closer. His vision blurred, and pain exploded behind his eyes. It felt as if his eyeballs would crawl out of their sockets.
**Crack.**
A sharp, sickening sound echoed in the darkness.
Driven by adrenaline and desperation, Kaleem raised his arm and slammed his fist down on the creature's face. It retaliated viciously, claws sinking into his ribs, biting down on his shoulder almost reaching his neck.
Screaming in agony, he struck again and again, a manic smile twisting his lips despite the pain. The fight lasted an eternity in moments until at last the creature's skull shattered like brittle glass. Black blood pooled beneath it, thick and inky.
---
Panting, Kaleem clutched his head, still shaken to his core.
Then he froze.
"W-what the hell...?" he muttered, pulling up his shirt to check his ribs. "I'm sure that thing pierced me—"
Shock crept into his voice as he also checked his shoulder but found nothing. No wound. No scar. Not even a bruise. It was as if the injury had never existed.
A shaky breath escaped him.
"Damn, Kaleem... today's been one hell of a weird day," he muttered, staring into the mirror.
He wiped the dried blood from his hair, then turned to leave the bathroom.
Unbeknownst to him, his reflection remained behind—its eyes cold and dull, watching with an odd but sinister detachment.
---
Exhausted, Kaleem collapsed onto his bed. The adrenaline drained away, replaced by a tide of aching pain and overwhelming fatigue. His body begged for rest.
His eyes fluttered closed.
Sleep took him swiftly.
---
**[Dreamscape — Unknown]**
The moment he slipped into unconsciousness, Kaleem was dragged into a strange, terrifying dream.
A cold abyss stretched infinitely around him, swallowing all light and hope. From the darkness, hands emerged—countless, grasping, desperate. They clawed at him, tearing at his clothes and flesh.
Screams echoed, distant but filled with agony.
He tried to run.
But his body was heavy, paralyzed by fear.
The hands wrapped around his legs, pulling him down.
His heart thundered as more hands crawled up his arms and torso.
Whispers filled the void—soft, hoarse, yet chillingly familiar.
A voice called out to him, broken but insistent.
> _"Wake up..."_
It was his voice. Yet not.
The whispers echoed, repeating the same haunting command, growing louder and more urgent.
As the sea of hands dragged him deeper into the void, Kaleem struggled desperately to break free.
His mind screamed.
Then—he jolted awake, drenched in sweat, gasping for air.
---
**[Dark Alley, Elm Street — Aftermath]**
Back in the real world, two figures stood silently near the spot where Kaleem had destroyed the creature.
One was a man cloaked in a long coat, face unreadable.
The other was a woman in a black dress, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
The air was thick with residual energy—oppressive and dark.
"Seems someone got to it first," the woman said softly, voice deep and tinged with amusement.
The man knelt, examining the shattered remains.
"From what I can tell… it wasn't a Mystic," he replied grimly.
A twisted smile curled the woman's lips.
"Hehehe. Whoever it was, they did us a favor."
Her laughter was eerie, almost gleeful, as if a mere human slaying such a creature was the most entertaining thing she'd witnessed in a long time.
"Let's clean up and report back," the man said sharply, picking up a strange black stone from the alley floor.
As they turned to leave, the woman pulled out her phone and began chatting excitedly, her voice cheerful and unsettling.
The man followed, expression dark as night.
---