Eric didn t sleep that night.
Not because of fear fear had long since lost its sharp edge but because his mind refused to rest. Every time he closed his eyes, the image returned. The hill. The city below. And that feeling…. that invisible pressure coiled deep in his chest, like something waiting for permission to breathe.
Morning arrived quietly.
The pale light slipping through the curtains felt wrong, intrusive, as if it didn't belong in his room. Eric lay still on his bed, staring at the ceiling. A thin crack ran across it, stretching from one corner to the other. He'd been meaning to fix it for years, but never had. Somehow, it had become comforting proof that even broken things could remain standing.
The apartment was small. Too small for a family, barely enough for one person. The furniture was old, mismatched, collected over time rather than chosen. A secondhand desk. A chair that creaked when he leaned back. Shelves filled with books he never finished and notebooks filled with thoughts he never shared.
This place wasn't home.
It was shelter.
Eric sat up slowly, rubbing his face. His body felt heavy, like gravity itself had increased overnight. As he stood, a faint dizziness passed through him. He paused, steadying himself against the wall.
" Get it together " he muttered under his breath.
The mirror above the sink reflected a boy who looked older than he should. Dark circles under his eyes. Messy hair. A gaze that didn't quite belong to someone his age. Eric stared at his reflection for a moment longer than necessary.
Nothing looked different.
Yet something was.
At school, the day unfolded exactly as he expected and that, somehow, made it worse.
The hallways buzzed with noise. Laughter. Shouting. Conversations layered on top of each other until they blended into a single, overwhelming hum. Eric moved through it all like a ghost, unnoticed and unacknowledged.
That was normal.
He took his usual seat by the window, far from the center of the classroom. From there, he could see the sky, dull and overcast, clouds hanging low like they were pressing down on the city.
"Did you hear about the blackout last night?" someone asked behind him.
"Yeah, whole blocks went dark for a few minutes."
Eric's fingers tightened around his pen.
Blackout ???
He hadn't noticed. Or maybe he had and his mind had simply chosen to forget.
The teacher's voice droned on, words blurring together. Eric tried to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting. Every sound felt slightly sharper than usual. Every movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention.
He felt watched.
Not in the paranoid sense. Not the way fear crawled up your spine and made your heart race.
This was quieter.
Colder.
Like standing in a room and realizing someone had been there long before you arrived… and never left.
At lunch, Eric sat alone as always. He didn't mind it. Silence was predictable. People weren't.
He opened his notebook, flipping through pages filled with sketches and half written sentences. Most of them were observations things he noticed but never spoke about. Patterns in behavior. Small inconsistencies. Details others ignored.
That was his talent, if it could be called that.
Seeing.
Across the cafeteria, a group laughed loudly. Among them was a girl with dark hair tied loosely behind her head. For a brief moment, their eyes met.
She frowned.
Not in anger. In confusion.
Eric looked away first.
The bell rang soon after, ending the day. Relief washed over him, but it didn't last.
As he stepped outside, the air felt thick. Charged. The sky had darkened further, clouds rolling slowly, unnaturally low.
Halfway home, the headache started.
It came without warning a sharp ,, stabbing pain behind his eyes. Eric stumbled, gripping a lamppost as his vision blurred. Sounds warped, stretching and bending as if the world itself had lost balance.
Images flooded his mind.
Flashes. Not memories something else.
A room bathed in sterile white light.
Voices, distorted, overlapping.
A child screaming .
His heart pounded. Eric slid down until he was sitting on the pavement, breathing hard.
"What… is this…?"
The pain vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
People passed by without a second glance.
No one noticed.
By the time he reached his apartment, his hands were shaking.
He locked the door behind him and leaned against it, chest rising and falling rapidly. His thoughts raced, but no answers came.
That night, the dreams returned.
This time, they were clearer.
Eric stood in a vast, dark space. No walls. No floor. Just emptiness. In front of him, shapes shifted—figures made of shadow and light, watching him with unseen eyes.
"You are late," a voice said.
It didn't come from any direction. It came from everywhere.
"I didn't choose this," Eric replied, though he wasn't sure why.
"You were chosen long before you understood what choice meant."
Pain surged through his chest. Not physical something deeper. Memories surfaced that didn't feel like his own.
White rooms.
Needles.
Observers behind glass.
A symbol burned into his mind a circle fractured by lines, incomplete.
He woke up screaming.
Sweat soaked his clothes. His heart felt like it might tear itself apart. For several long seconds, he didn't know where he was.
Then reality returned.
The small room. The crack in the ceiling. The silence.
But the feeling remained.
Someone had been watching him.
And they hadn't stopped.
Days passed.
Nothing happened and everything did.
Eric became aware of patterns he'd never noticed before. The same black car parked near his building every morning. A man who appeared on his route home twice too often to be coincidence. The way teachers glanced at him just a second longer than necessary.
He tested it.
Changed routes. Altered schedules.
They adjusted.
" They're real " Eric whispered one night, sitting alone in the dark.
Fear finally arrived but it wasn't overwhelming.
It was focused.
Controlled.
Somewhere deep inside, beneath layers of silence and restraint, something stirred. Not anger.
Not power.
Understanding.
If he was being watched, then he wasn't insignificant.
If they were monitoring him, then he mattered.
The thought should have terrified him.
Instead, it grounded him.
Eric opened one of his notebooks and began to write not observations, not thoughts, but questions.
Who are they?What do they want?Why me?
As the pen moved across the page, the faintest sensation returned that pressure in his chest, responding to his intent.
For the first time, Eric didn't suppress it.
The lights flickered.
Just once.
He froze.
Then slowly, a quiet, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
Whatever had been done to him…
Whatever he was
It hadn't failed.
And neither had he.
Far away, in a room filled with screens and silent alarms, someone finally spoke.
"Subject E has begun to awaken."
Another voice responded, calm and cold.
" Continue observation. Do not intervene "
Because some witnesses were never meant to stay silent forever.