2 YEARS AGO…
The heavy steel door creaked open, and a shaft of bright sunlight illuminated the drab, concreted corridor. Steven, in his 20 years old with a rugged face and weary eyes, stepped out of the cell, blinking in the light.
"Mr. Patrick, you're free to go," the corrections officer said, handing Steven a small bag containing his belongings. Steven took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his sentence lifting off his shoulders. He looked around, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of the prison one last time, leaving the prison and its memories behind.
PRESENT…
I looked around to recall where I was, I couldn't believe I'd drifted so far into my thoughts that I forgot I was on the bus. Something seemed… off and strange in the bus. I kooled around inside the bus and to my absolute shock, I was the only one completely left in the bus. No passengers. No driver. Just me and no one else.
"What's going on?" I muttered as a wave of dread surged through me, my chest tightening with anxiety.
Where's everyone? Who's driving the bus which was moving beyond the speed limit?
One moment I was all alone, and another second seated before me a man covered in a long black cloak with a wide-brimmed hat that shadowed his face.
Where did he come from? I thought, my pulse spiked. I was timorous, almost wetting my pants. With a trembling, shaky and sweaty-slicked hand, I reached out and tapped the man gently on the shoulder to get his attention.
But what I saw after the man revealed his face beneath the hood made my heart jump out of my chest, I almost had a heart attack. I let out a horrifying holler, screaming my lungs out.
Then, suddenly, I felt someone's hand clamp down over my mouth, silencing me.
Eyes squeezed shut, the fear in me doesn't allow me to open my eyes for the fear of what I would witness again, I don't want to be traumatized.
"Shhhh, keep it down. What's gotten into you?" Came a familiar voice I recognized, Habib. That's when I finally opened my eyes, terrified still, he was staring at me like I'd lost my mind. "What the hell? You see a ghost?" He asked. Still shaken, I didn't respond
I glanced around, noticing everything had changed. There were few people in the bus now, and also the bus was not moving at a killing speed like before. Everyone's wide, confused eyes were on me looking as if I had run mad or crazy.
I blinked repeatedly to confirm it's not another illusion.
"Are you alright man? Why do you yell like that?" I heard him ask, I couldn't bring myself to answer the question. Even if I tried to explain, would he believe me? Hell, I wouldn't believe myself either. I sighed and rubbed my temples, trying to calm myself down. The anxiety was killing me.
The bus finally reached its bus stop and I stepped out slowly. Habib gave me a parting look.
"Call me when you get home," Habib told me before the bus moved on.
I began to walk to my place, I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling of someone following me. I glanced over my shoulder several times, but I saw no one. The street was empty.
I fastened my pace, heart hammering, and I did not stop until I reached my apartment, entered and locked myself up before breathing out in relief.
It wasn't long before I became alert when I heard footsteps echoing in the hallway—measured, unhurried, each step deliberate like it had all the time in the world.
I remained stifled, breath seized, and started to umbethink the karate and other fighting skills I know. The steps got closer and closer till it reached the door, pressed the doorbell.
The first time… No response.
The second time again… I got ready to strike.
On the third ring, I lunged, flinging the door open with the force of a hurricane, ready to pummel whatever horror awaited me. I was ready to be charged with murder case if I managed to get my hands on whatever it was.
Instead—
"AHHH! What in the name of God is WRONG with you?! Are you trying to kill me?!"
It was the delivery guy.
He spat in terror and rage. He'd half-shielded his face from the incoming attack, visibly shaken. Rage twisted his expression.
"I—I'm sorry! I thought you were a stalker!Sorry, I'm really sorry." I blurted out, breathless. "I didn't mean—really, I'm sorry!"
He scowled, thrust the package at me, and muttered, "Then report the stalker. Don't go trying to murder people who are just doing their job."
Then he hissed and stormed off.
Then you would have been my first victim. I thought to myself before slamming the door shut.
SOMEWHERE ELSE…
A colossal control room thrummed with energy, its walls lined with advanced consoles and glowing holographic displays. Sleek and orderly, the chamber housed a procession of alien beings known as the Kr'ang, filling the room, their slender, elongated bodies gliding effortlessly across the polish floor.
Each Kr'ang stood around six feet tall, their skin a shimmering, iridescent blue that seemed to shift and change color in the light. Long, spindly limbs end in delicate-looking fingers, tip with sharp, crystalline claws. Their faces are equally striking, with large, almond-shaped eyes that burn with an inner light.
They took their positions around the perimeter of the room, their eyes fixed on the central dais. A moment of expectant silence fell, and then the commander of the Kr'ang, The Nemeses, entered the room.
The Nemeses was even more imposing than the others—his skin a deeper, almost regal shade of blue, and his eyes burned intense, inner fire like twin stars.
As he stepped onto the dais, the room fell completely silent. The Kr'ang bowed their heads in unison. Nemeses raised his hands, and they raised their heads.
"The time of reckoning is upon us," Nemeses declared, his voice like thunder cracking through the void. "Let us begin."
At once, his aides sprang into action, monitoring data streams and surveillance feeds.
"Sire, we have discovered another potential player," announced Diego, Nemeses' trusted second-in-command, offering a sleek digital tablet. It displayed two images—Steven and Gabriel.
Nemeses scrutinized the file with a piercing gaze, running his eyes through every detail presented before he spoke in a low calm voice.
"You should know by now—humans are nothing but thorns in the flesh," he said bitterly. "They destroy everything they touch. They're not worth the risk."
"The risk is worth taking, sire," Diego argued calmly. "You could be the first to successfully integrate humans into the system. You could achieve what your predecessors failed to accomplish." Diego persisted.
Nemeses paused, absorbing his words. After a long silence, he exhaled sharply and nodded once.
A small smile crept across Diego's face. He had convinced his master.
"This better turn out the perfect way."
___
The blaring alarm yanked me from sleep the next morning. My head pounded like it had been smashed by a wrecking ball. Pain pulsed through my skull like rhythmic explosions.
I lazily dragged my feet to the bathroom as usual to wash the sleep off my face. I rested my arms against the wall to calm down a little, I felt blank. I tried to recall what I did last before I fell asleep, but it was like my memory was completely whipped. The phone started to ring in my room and I got out of the bathroom to answer the call.
"Good morning sleepy head, it's about time you finally pick the damn call," Habib barked, making my headache worse. "I was worried when I didn't hear from you, man. You didn't call last night. Are you okay?" It took me a moment to install the question in.
"Oh y... yes. I'm doing pretty well. Thanks for asking," I stammered, replied, trying not to sound off.
"Ow!"
I suddenly hit my foot on something, what I presumed to be a sort of package on the floor making me make a quick Sharp pain groan.
"You don't sound ok to me, Steve."
"Yes, I mean No, I'm fine. I just hit something on the floor." I responded, wincing as I picked up the package from the floor. I put it on the bed, and unwrapped it.
Lo and behold it turned out to be a goddamn head protection helmet, a fancy one to precise. Expensive-looking—like it belonged in a billion-dollar prototype lab.
"I will call you back," I told him before cutting the call.
Come to think of it, I don't remember ordering anything, especially a helmet. For what? I continued checking the fancy stuff out like it would slip out of my sight any moment. I found the helmet of no use, other than a play thing if I must say.
Curious, I examined it closely. The design was flawless—almost hypnotic. At first, I hesitated to put it on. But curiosity got the best of me.
Bad choice!
The second the helmet latched onto my head, agony exploded through my body. It felt like fire burned through my veins, like my soul was being ripped into shreds.
And the last thing I heard—
Was the sound of my own scream.