I was swallowed by total darkness.
"Where the hell am I?" My voice sounded small, lost in the black—thick as tar, heavy as a memory I'd chosen to carry.
The cold wasn't skin-deep.
It sank into my bones—like a silence that never left.
The same darkness I'd escaped once, only to find it waiting again.
A faint light appeared before me, like a doorway slowly opening—gentle, familiar. Not blinding, but the kind that made me believe, for a moment, that maybe this time it would be different.
I walked toward it slowly, each step soundless, deliberate.
As I crossed the threshold, I wondered… Maybe this time, I'd step into something like paradise.
But it's always the same—
a nightmare etched into memory. Unchanging. Unyielding. Returning night after night, like a curse that refuses to fade.
I stood in a playground I once ran to for joy, now washed in dark blue.
The air reeked faintly of rust and rain, the swings creaking like old bones. Moving on their own—as if ridden by ghosts with nowhere else to go.
Then there they were.
Two bodies, laid out like broken prayers—massacred beyond mercy.
I was only fifteen.
Too young to witness that kind of cruelty.
Too old to ever forget it.
They'd told me to stay hidden—
But I didn't. I couldn't.
And by the time I moved… The nightmare had already written itself in blood.
Most kids would've cried. Screamed. Begged for answers—
Why them? Why now?
But me?
I just stood there.
Watching. Cold. Unmoved on the outside, even if something deep inside shifted.
Then the voices came.
Familiar. Whispered.
Not from outside—
from somewhere deeper inside.
Kill them all. The first voice spat venom like poison. Spill their blood for what they did. You're their son, after all.
No. The second chilled my blood—cold and distant. Let it go. They abandoned you for fifteen years. They don't deserve your love… or your revenge.
The last was barely a breath, soft as a falling leaf. End it. Join them. You don't deserve this life. Just… stop breathing.
They always gave me thoughts I never understood.
"Shut up," I said—calm, not pleading.
They only laughed, echoing louder until the sound pressed at the edges of my mind.
"Shut up!" I screamed.
Blue-dark energy erupted from my skin—alive, writhing, like liquid shadow and electric fire fused as one.
It pulsed with a fierce heartbeat—cold and burning at once—tendrils reaching outward like hungry serpents craving release.
The air crackled around me, thickening with raw power that tasted like ozone, threatening to tear the world apart.
---
I sat upright, my breathing steady, heartbeat already at its usual rhythm.
Sunlight slipped through the blinds, painting my room gold. The scent of coffee drifted faintly from the kitchen downstairs.
It was morning already.
The dream never fades, but I don't let it own me.
I let a few slow breaths pass, the tension flowing out like smoke. My hands were still. My heartbeat slowed to its usual rhythm. The cold from the dream stayed lodged in my bones, but it was mine to carry, not the other way around.
There were tears in my eyes — not from breaking down, just from the memory forcing itself through. I wiped them away without a second thought.
I looked around—yeah, I was back.
Back to reality.
Back to the silence of my big, empty room.
A bed shoved into the corner.
A desk buried in books.
A closet of untouched clothes.
A PC beside a TV with a sleek new console under it—brand new, like someone else's life I hadn't lived yet.
Posters of heroes lined the walls—
reminders of dreams I once chased.
Ones I'd long since buried.
I glanced at my hands. No shaking. No weakness. Just the frost of the dream clinging faintly to my skin.
Two years ago, this would've broken me.
Now? I keep it locked away where it can't reach me unless I choose to open the door.
I swung my legs out of bed. Hands steady. Mask back on. Time to move again.
I entered the bathroom, just a few meters from my bed. Splashed cold water on my face, letting it run into the basin.
Not to wake up — just to mark the end of it.
I faced the mirror.
Tired black eyes—deep, sharp, and watchful, shadowed by sleepless nights and quiet pain.
Blue-black hair, carefully kept—straight and neat, like a mask of order over the chaos inside.
My skin was pale, almost smooth, a shield I wore to keep the world at bay.
The lines around my mouth were tight, lips pressed as if holding back words that could break me.
A face that could pass, but only barely—like a photograph faded by time, still familiar but weighed down by everything I'd lost.
"Cain? Are you awake?"
Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.
I turned toward the doorway. Mira stood there, a gentle smile on her lips, her long black hair falling over one shoulder. She had a slim body and wore a black-and-white maid uniform.
"Breakfast is ready. It's Saturday, remember? You said you'd head out early, so… I didn't want you to leave on an empty stomach."
"Thanks, Mira," I said evenly. "I really appreciate it."
"It's nothing. You are my master, after all."
The word still landed wrong, but I didn't let it show.
"Mira… I told you not to call me that."
Her smile faltered. "Then… what should I call you?"
She had been with me since I was a kid—taking care of me under my parents' orders. But when they died, she still stayed. Through every dark moment, she never left. I sometimes wondered if she ever had parents, but to me, she was family. Hearing her call me master didn't sit right with me.
"Call me Cain," I said finally. "And think of me as your son instead."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Cain… my son?"
The way she said it—soft, almost fragile—tightened something in my chest.
"Yeah. That sounds better."
Something in her eyes shimmered—just for a moment—and I almost wished I'd said it years ago.
"Alright. Hurry, before your breakfast gets cold," she said before she headed out.
I gave a faint smile — small, but real. "Alright. I'll be done in a minute."
I showered, dressed in a black hood and plain trousers, and headed downstairs.
The big wooden dining table waited in the centre, meant for more people than lived here.
The smell of warm food filled the air.
Boiled eggs. Sliced bread. Steam curling up from the plates.
I ate quickly, not carelessly. My mind didn't wander — the dream was locked away now.
In less than ten minutes, I was done and ready to leave.
Before stepping out, I glanced back.
Mira was at the kitchen counter, humming softly as she cleaned.
She noticed me lingering.
"You're done already?"
"Yeah. Thanks for the food—it was great, like always."
"Glad you enjoyed it, mast—Cain." She caught herself, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
I shook my head with a smile. She never stops. I hope 'master' doesn't slip back into her vocabulary—too much distance between us.
I walked to the doorway, slipping on my sneakers. Once I was done, I stood and reached for my hood.
"Don't stay out too late," her voice called from my back. "And… if you can, come back for lunch. I'll have it ready, Cain."
Hearing her say my name like that—it still felt new. Warmer.
"I'll try," I said, pulling the hood over my head.
Before stepping out, I turned back and looked at her.
She stepped closer, eyes filled with quiet worry. "And Cain… be careful."
I met her gaze, steady. "I will."
Then I opened.
Outside, the air was crisp. The sky, grey with hints of blue. Another day in Elexer's — a city that never stopped moving.
But today… something felt different.
Time for a small adventure—
to regain a piece of me I'd lost.
—------------
I walked toward our house gates and stepped into the street.
I didn't know where to go first—
Then it hit me.
I needed open space.
Air that didn't smell like my room.
Maybe even… a little peace.
Reaching the roadside, I stopped a taxi and let it take me to my destination.
As I stepped out, I stood before a tall black gate. Even before going in, I could feel it—the breeze, like a hand pulling me from the darkness. The wind danced through the trees as if welcoming me back.
It was a park.
The perfect place.
It was nestled in the heart of the city, surrounded by towering buildings. Inside, children laughed, families picnicked, and dogs chased balls across the grass. In the middle, a small lake shimmered under the sun.
It was peaceful. Too peaceful.
Like a still lake before the first drop of rain.
I wished my nightmares would end like this—
not with screams, but with light.
I was about to lose myself in the stillness then I heard a voice from my right—bright, unguarded.
"This is so amazing," he said, as if the world had just been handed to him.