What…what…what is that? The room is dark, the night's rays glossing through the bedroom window. There's a king-sized bed, two empty portraits. There was a mirror above it, and he sprang up grabbing his chest and panting. There's also a thunderstorm raging, the raindrops hitting the window like water tides. The chimney fire is lit, the flames low but the air keeps hitting it, making it broader and more raging. There's a TV sitting in the corner, turned on with a loud sound of just buzzing.
Leif's eyes strain to pierce the darkness, the scent of old books and stale air clinging to his skin like a damp shroud. He blinks rapidly, trying to shake off the shroud. He glanced over to the door, cracked open, slammed shut, and then cracked open again. He jolts up, a cold dread seeping into his bones. His mind races with worst-case scenarios, making it hard for him to breathe. What was happening? Why was he scared? He starts to sprawl back to his bedframe, against the wall, and then notices a black figure looking at him, but when he turns, it disappears.
As Leif swung his legs over the side of the king-sized bed, the creaky frame groaned in protest. The TV's static grew louder as he padded towards the door. But before his fingers made contact with the door handle, his gaze drifted left, where the light bulb flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Leif's heart skipped a beat as he stared at the bulb, a growing sense of unease creeping up his spine. What was going on? The mirror above hung crookedly, its surface cracked like a spider web. Leif's breath caught in his throat as the lights plunged into darkness, enveloping the room in an oppressive silence. He stood frozen, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
Leif's panic intensified, his senses on high alert. He felt like he was surrounded by unseen presences, the darkness palpable and menacing. His hair stood on end, like spikes bristling with electricity. His eyes widened, wild and unmoored, like a patient on the verge of a breakdown. And then, a voice whispered through the darkness, the words slicing through the silence like a scalpel: " Come here".
The girl's voice echoed off the walls, reverberating through the space like a haunting melody. Suddenly, a bolt of thunder cracked outside, making Leif jump. As the sound faded, he caught a whiff of a sweet scent, a tantalizing mixture of coconut and vanilla that seemed out of place in the darkness. The girl's voice whispered again, "I'm right here." The words sent a shiver down Leif's spine as he strained to pinpoint her location.
A thunderbolt struck again, illuminating the room with an eerie flash. In the brief moment of light, Leif caught a glimpse of two purple eyes glowing like embers in the corner. But before he could process what he saw, the eyes vanished. Suddenly, heavy breathing whispered against his ear, followed by a soft "boo" that made Leif jump back in surprise. His hands flailed wildly, grasping for something, anything, to anchor himself. As he stumbled, a low, melodious voice spoke up, its feminine tone a stark contrast to the eerie atmosphere. "Well, this is a nice introduction," she said, her words dripping with amusement.
"Ouch," Leif cried out, his concern immediate. "Did I hurt you?" Before she could respond, a thunderbolt boomed like a siren, drowning out all other sounds. The house shuddered, and debris rained down from the ceiling. Logs crashed onto the bedroom door, and a ceiling lamp hung precariously, swaying in the aftermath. Leif stumbled, his eyes darting towards the bed as he struggled to regain his footing. Amidst the chaos, she reached out her arms, her voice calm and reassuring. "I'm right here." As Leif's gaze fell upon her bleeding head, a wave of panic washed over him. He felt a surge of guilt and worry, his heart racing with fear for her well-being. "Oh no, you're hurt," he whispered, his voice trembling as he rushed towards her.
Leif rushed to her side, concern etched on his face. "Here, take my shirt," he said, offering it to her. But before she could respond, the windows shattered, the loud crash sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Instinctively, Leif grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, shielding her from the debris. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the din. As the chaos subsided, he gently released her and stood up, his eyes never leaving hers. He made his way back to the window, kneeling on the chequered floorboards. The sound of his knees cracking echoed through the room. From his new vantage point, he gazed at her, taking in every detail. Her petite frame was striking, with black hair that fell in a bobbed cut around her face. Her eyes gleamed with an otherworldly purple hue, framed by black glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her skin was as
White as snow, with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. She wore a graphic tee with three black cats emblazoned on a white background, paired with black shorts that revealed a constellation of scars and freckles on her legs.
She began to tug her shorts down, the fabric inching lower as Leif's gaze followed the movement. A sly smile spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with mischief. " I know you wanted a peek," she said, her voice low and husky, her words dripping with seduction. She bit her fingernail, the sound of her nail cracking echoing through the air. Leif's face flushed, and he ducked his head, mumbling, "No, I don't." But she wasn't buying it. With a playful smack on his arm, she said, "Why are you lying? I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me." Leif reached out, his hand wrapping around her wrist. "It's okay, it didn't hurt, honestly," he reassured her. Her expression turned serious, and she pulled her wrist free. "It's not okay. It's not. Respect yourself," she said, her voice firm but gentle. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she said, "I'll make it up to you," and settled on his lap.
As Leif starts to tug around, trying to push her off, she giggles and says. "What's that feeling?" Her voice is husky, and her eyes sparkle with mischief. Leif's face flushes, and he mutters, "Get off." She pouts, "Fine, you're no fun. I like teasing you, still so innocent." With a playful smile, she gets up and walks to the window, leaning over to take a deep breath. " The air smells so fresh," she says, her eyes closed, and her head tilted back. Leif starts to fix his shorts while getting up, his movements awkward. She notices and teases, "Don't fix them," laughing as she looks up at the sky. Leif's face reddened further, and he said, " Shut up and move over, I wanna see outside too."
As she scoots over, the air drifts catch her aroma, and it wafts up to Leif's face. He inhales deeply, his eyes half-closing in appreciation. "You smell so good," he says, his voice low and husky. She smirks, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and wraps her arms around him. "Well, since you like it so much, how about it's all over your clothes?" she teases, her breath hot against his ear. Leif's face flushes, and he pushes her off, rubbing his face in mock disgust. "What the hell?" he mutters, "Thanks." He looks at her, curiosity getting the better of him. "What's your name?" She smiles, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Yin Ling, the shadow to your figure," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
As they stand there, they suddenly look outside the window, taking in the breathtaking scenery. Thunderbolts strike rapidly, illuminating the dark sky in brilliant flashes of light. Massive ocean tides crash against the unknown depths below, like an invitation to the unknown. The air is thick with electricity, and the strong gray clouds darken, punctuated by purple thunderbolts that hit the abyssal ocean with deafening crashes. There's no land in sight, just the endless expanse of water and sky. "It's nice," she says, her voice filled with a sense of wonder. Leif's response is more visceral. "Holy shit, we are so high up," he exclaims, clenching the window frame to keep himself balanced. She smiles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're afraid of heights," she teases, and then, in a daring move, she capsizes herself on the other side of the window, holding onto the frame for dear life. Leif's eyes widen in alarm as he grabs her arms, trying to pull her up to safety.
She looks at him, smiling, her eyes low and head tilted to the left, staring into his soul. "Wanna come with me?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. He shakes his head, his voice firm. "No, come up here. You'll die." She looks at him with a somber expression, her eyes searching. "Are you living or dying?" Leif turns around, but the room is empty, nothing but silence. She says, "Take the chance." A thunderbolt strikes, shaking the house violently. She slips, her hand reaching out for him. "Come before it's too late," she urges. She pulls him down, her body wet and slick against his dry skin. She kisses him, her lips warm and urgent. "We might drown in silence," she whispers. He looks at her, his voice resolute. "I'll go down with you again."
As they plunge into the water, she effortlessly raises them both to the surface. "I told you, look at – you did it, you lived," she says, smiling and locking eyes with him. She laughs and splashes water on his face, and he clings to her, his voice trembling. "I'm scared, the water is so dark, the unknown..." She reassures him, "Don't worry, the water tides will push us through." The rapid currents sweep them underwater and back up again. "This is fun!" she exclaims, spitting out water. She hugs Leif tightly and kisses him. "Don't forget about me," she whispers.
Just as she pulls away, a massive black tsunami looms over them, its crest towering over 100 feet high. The air pressure drops, and the air grows thick with anticipation. In a fleeting moment, she flashes her chest at him and whispers, "Don't forget me." The tsunami crashes down, engulfing them in its darkness.
He jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. His hand reached instinctively into the dark, as if grasping for something—or someone.
"Yin Ling… That's your name, huh?" he muttered.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he stood in the dimly lit room. Two windows cast faint outlines on the floor. An old AC unit hummed softly. A large mirror hung beside the door. He stared at his reflection, clad only in his underwear.
"I need to become more responsible," he whispered. "I need to broaden my back..."
Then — a scream. Piercing. From the hallway.
His eyes shot wide open.
He sprinted to the door, floorboards groaning under his feet.
Blood streaked the hallway walls. His mother's and sister's clothes lay twisted and lifeless—like rag dolls.
"Mother? Sister?! What happened?!"
At the end of the hall, his father swayed gently, hanging from a rope above an overturned chair…
He heard the door creak open. Three men stood in the hallway—guns drawn. Before he could move, they opened fire. His mother. His sister. Gone. One of them laughed. "They were fun while they lasted."
Everything froze. He dropped to his knees, hands in his hair, mouth open but voiceless. Blood soaked the floor, creeping toward his bare feet. Their bodies were still. Lifeless. Cold.
Then—rage. Burning, blinding, unstoppable.
He charged at them, screaming, "I'll kill you! I'll
murder you!"
They didn't flinch.
They beat him down—
One hit. Then another.
A gun to his head.
The world went black.
He gasped awake.
His sister's lifeless body lay beside him. His mother's eyes were wide open—staring at nothing. Blood everywhere. The air was cold.
"No... no, please..." He crawled toward them. "Wake up. Wake up... wake up!"
He clutched their bodies, his hands trembling. Blood on his face. In his mouth. His own. Theirs. It didn't matter.
He stood—barely. His body was broken, his head leaking blood. But his eyes burned. Burned with something that could never be put out.
"I swear I'll kill them," he whispered. Then louder: "I swear I'll murder them all."
He staggered down the stairs, each step echoing like a drumbeat in a funeral march. The front door hung open. Beyond it—no street. No lights. No cars. Only endless, black woods swaying gently in the wind.
And the sky— It was not a sky. It moved.
Faces emerged from above. Distorted, reaching. Hands stretched down like gods or ghosts, slowly lowering toward him.
He looked up. Unafraid. He raised his arms.
The blood ran from his fingertips like rain. "I see you," he said to the sky. "I swear I'll murder them all."
He took one step forward.
"This…" he whispered, voice cracked and hoarse, "…this is my pareidolia."