There was a kid named Billy. A normal nine-year-old—or at least, that's what everyone thought. He had three best friends: Del, Chris, and Mino. They did everything together—played games, got into trouble, laughed until their stomachs hurt.
But one day, Billy woke up and felt... different. Nothing was wrong, yet everything felt off. A presence, like unseen eyes watching him from the shadows, clung to his skin. He shook the feeling off. Probably just paranoia.
He got ready for school and walked outside, spotting Del and Chris. But something was missing. Someone was missing.
"Where's Mino?" Billy asked.
Del furrowed his brows. "Mino? Who's Mino?"
Billy laughed, waiting for them to say "just kidding," but Chris wore the same confused expression. "Who's Mino?"
A cold chill crawled up Billy's spine. "Quit messing around! Mino—our best friend! We were together yesterday! We—"
"Billy, are you okay?" Del interrupted, looking at him like he was crazy.
Billy felt sick. He wanted to argue, to scream, but their faces showed no sign of lying. He clenched his fists. Fine. He would figure this out later.
As they arrived at school, something gnawed at his mind. He couldn't explain it, but the school—the teachers, the students—felt... wrong. Everyone was smiling. Not normal smiles. Too wide. Too happy.
He tried to ignore it. Until he saw the shadow.
A glimpse at first, near the closing door. Something familiar. His breath hitched—Mino? But something about him was... wrong.
Billy bolted after the figure. As he got closer, his body locked up in terror. Mino stood in the dimly lit hall, but he was different. His face was gone. Just blank, featureless skin. And he was taller, like a stretched-out nightmare.
Billy couldn't breathe. Then, the laughter started.
It came from everywhere—his classmates, his teachers. They were still smiling, but their faces were empty, devoid of anything human. The laughter grew, louder and louder. Mino reached for him.
Billy ran.
He sprinted down the halls, heart hammering, vision blurring. He didn't dare look back. He could feel it—Mino, the laughter, the watching presence. He just ran.
Then suddenly—silence.
Billy stopped. The hallway was empty. Desks, chairs, books—everything was still there. But no people. Just the cold wind whispering through the open windows, and the ticking of a distant clock.
A shudder raked through his body. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
As he stumbled outside, rain began to pour. He dragged his exhausted body home, but the feeling of being watched never left him. He screamed into the darkness, "What do you want from me?!"
Silence.
Then, it disappeared.
Panting, soaked, and trembling, Billy finally reached his house. Relief flooded him when he saw his mother cooking in the kitchen. His chest loosened. Maybe—just maybe—this was all in his head.
"Mom..." he called, stepping inside.
She didn't respond. Just kept stirring something in the pot.
Billy hesitated. Something about her was wrong. But whatever—he needed comfort. He stepped closer. "Mom?"
No response.
She turned slightly, and Billy saw her face—expressionless, eyes blank. The same emptiness as the others. But worse, he saw what she was cooking.
Meat. But not just any meat.
Billy's breath caught as he saw something floating in the pot—a pair of glasses. Not just any glasses.
His father's glasses.
His stomach twisted. The bile rose before he could stop it, and he puked all over the floor. His mother didn't react, just kept stirring, and started humming.His hands shook as he backed away, barely able to breathe.
With tears in his eyes, he ran to his room, slamming the door and locking it. He curled into himself, shaking.
"This isn't real. This isn't real. Am I real? Is this all a dream?"
His own voice felt distant. His mind cracked under the weight of it all. He let out a shaky laugh—then another. His laughter turned to sobs, then back to laughter. He punched his own face, hard, again and again, desperate to wake up.
But the bruises only proved one thing.
This was real.
Exhausted, broken, and lost, he finally collapsed, drifting into uneasy sleep...
To be continued...