Liam stared at the man with eyes full of anger and fear.
"Is he... the person who is always present in my dreams... now coming to the real world to resemble me... This is a lie... This must be a lie..."
Her mind raced, between sadness, anger, fear, and confusion. His body was trembling.
"William Louren, age 16. Born July 1, 2006. Son of Aslan Louren and Ayla Louren. Has a younger sister named Hiyana Louren. Right?"
Liam just nodded weakly. He didn't even dare to look Thiago in the face.
"Okay. Can you come with me? I hope you can be cooperative."
But before Liam could answer, his vision began to fade. The world around him seemed to stretch and blacken. His legs went limp.
His body fell unconscious.
"Wiliam... Liammm... Limmm... come here...."
The voice was a low whisper, but it echoed like it came from the gap between dreams and reality. A voice that shouldn't exist, but also couldn't be ignored.
Liam's eyelids slowly opened. His first glance was greeted by a dull metal ceiling, cracked by rust and time. He was lying on a metal bed-cold, bare, cutting into his back. His hands and feet were bound by a rough, old leather belt. He tried to move, but his body was no longer his. Stiff. Numb.
The only thing he could move was his head - and even then with difficulty. He glanced around the unfamiliar room. The cold metal walls reflected the dim light from the overhead lamp. In the corners of the room, medical instruments were neatly lined up-too sharp, too clean, and too ready, as if waiting for their turn to be used.
It was definitely not a hospital room. Not a place of healing. This was an execution chamber... in disguise.
Liam tried to struggle, forcing his body out of the bondage. But the harder he fought, the tighter the ropes gripped him. His breathing was ragged, and his heartbeat was the only sound filling the room.
Then she screamed. "Help! Is someone there?! I'm... tied up! Anyone, help me!!!"
Her scream echoed loudly-then faded away. The hanging silence answered her like a threat.
But not for long.
A loud bang shook the air. Like a metal door being forced open. The sound came from behind the thick glass in front of her-from a long, dark hallway.
Footsteps followed. Heavy. Slow. Stressful, as if carrying a certainty.
Liam turned his head quickly. His breath caught.
The hallway was empty.
But the sound of footsteps kept approaching. His heart beat wildly.
And then he saw it.
That figure.
He was almost two meters tall. His body was thin, but every movement carried an invisible weight. His face was hidden behind the dull black cloth wrapped around his eyes. His skin was pale, like a freshly risen corpse, with black veins pulsing quietly beneath the surface. He wore a long black robe whose edges had rotted away, dragging on the floor and leaving dark trails.
She stopped right in front of the glass.
And seemed to stare at Liam. Although he couldn't see her eyes, Liam could feel them penetrating him.
He squirmed again. Panicked. His breathing became more labored, his body rebelled again.
The door opened without a sound. The air instantly became cold. The figure entered, his steps slow but absolute-unstoppable.
He stood at the side of the bed. Liam wanted to close his eyes-God, he wanted to-but his body wouldn't let him. The figure raised a hand. Thin. Cold. The fingers touched Liam's cheek... too soft for something that felt so horrible.
The finger touched his eyelid, then the voice came. A whisper that sounded like the wind sneaking from the grave:
"This vision... is mine."
Liam tried to turn his head, trying to escape the grip, but the figure unwrapped the bandage from his own hand-the skin cracked, and thick black blood began to flow.
In one quiet movement, the blood dripped into Liam's eyes.
Hot. Stinging. Dark.
Everything vanished.
That night Liam stayed awake. His eyes stare blankly at the ceiling, his mind spinning in an endless loop of memories and nightmares. Until finally, morning light began to creep in through the gap in the window curtains, signaling the day had changed.
With heavy steps, she got up from the bed and decided to get ready - a routine that now felt empty.
But as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she froze. Her eyes... had changed.
A fiery red color covered her irises. Not a faint tinge, but a bright flame that seemed to burn from within. Liam stared at the reflection silently, his body stiffening.
"Is this... from last night's dream?" he muttered softly, before letting out a long breath.
The tension on his face turned into anger. His jaw hardened, and suddenly, a burst of emotion overflowed without being contained.
"What... what else?! Everything that happened wasn't enough?! Bangsatt... stupid world!"
With a rough motion, his fist slammed into the mirror in front of him. The sound of shattering glass filled the room. Sharp shards scattered to the floor, some caught in his now-bleeding hand. Small wounds immediately sprung up along his skin, but a few minutes later, the painful sensation disappeared. His hand was restored to its original state.
Liam stared blankly at his healed hand.
It had been a month since his family passed away. In the end, the problem was handled by the school since Liam was still a minor. I don't know what the school did, but somehow, Liam was cleared of all charges. Many parties seemed to hide this case, there was no publication even as if this case had been resolved.
Now, Liam's life really feels empty. Empty. The house that was once full of voices is now only filled with shadows. And the voices in his head continue to echo, reminding him of every tragedy.
reminding her of every tragedy.
Even more bizarre-and frightening-nonsensical events began to fill her days. Dark dreams, changes in her body, and visions that could not be explained by logic. Everything seemed designed... like someone-or something-had prepared this path for her long ago.
Before leaving, his father had given him the family savings-the last provision for Liam to survive in this world that felt increasingly unfamiliar. He kept it tightly, as if it was the only proof that he used to have a home, a family.