Surrounded by this luminous glow, I find myself standing amidst an unknown street. How did I end up here? The place is new to me, yet an eerie sense of déjà vu tugs at my mind, as if I've traversed these very paths before.
I stand rooted to the ground, a prisoner in my own body. It's maddening, this sense of utter helplessness, unable to budge an inch. The surroundings appear surreal, like a dream, yet they're imprinted in striking clarity—each nuance etched into my consciousness. I'm certain I must have slipped into unconsciousness, but why does this feel unbelievably tangible, like a living, breathing reality?
Out of nowhere, I'm propelled into a completely new scene. It's like reality has taken a wild turn, depositing me right in front of a massive police station with an entrance that practically screams authority. The puzzling part? What's the deal with this unexpected shift? Seriously, what's going on?
In an unexpected twist, Ethan comes into view, dressed in an attire quite different from his police uniform. Adorning black pants and a casually unbuttoned brown jacket, he exudes an air of mystery. Strangely, it's as though my feet have a mind of their own, propelling me forward as I follow him.
I walk in his wake, observing as he exchanges friendly greetings with a colleague. The other officer exudes a youthful vibe, his brown eyes shining with warmth and his jet-black hair giving him a distinct presence, even from afar.
A new figure strides into view, and even from a distance, his commanding presence is undeniable – undoubtedly their superior. His animated gestures and pointed expressions are enough to convey his annoyance, his words carrying a weight that I can't quite discern, even though I'm standing mere steps away.
It's clear as day that he's grilling Ethan over work matters, piling on the pressure with his pointed questions and stern demeanor. It's odd, though – I always thought Ethan had a low-key job, just some basic patrolling around the small police station. Guess I was off the mark.
His attention seems fixed on something atop his desk. Ah, a family photo—three beaming faces captured in a snapshot. It's him, his wife, and a tiny bundle of joy. The image speaks volumes about his softer side, the side hidden beneath the tough exterior.
A sudden revelation strikes me—Ethan, married? The puzzle pieces don't fit, and this scene unravels before me like a dream within a dream. Questions swirl in my mind like a whirlpool—what prompted his words to Thomas? Are these truly Ethan's memories that I'm witnessing? Could this connection be born from the act I committed—taking his life?
Surrounded by a whirlwind of memories, I'm swept up in a cinematic tide of shifting scenes. It's as though I'm a reluctant traveler in the midst of a storm formed from fragments of the past. Each image flickers before me like scenes from a film, stirring emotions that swirl within me.
Scenes flicker like frames of a film, revealing fragments of his heated altercation with his boss. Tension hangs heavy in the air as the visuals shift and meld, crafting a vivid tapestry of his journey. And then, in a swift transformation, the backdrop transitions to a remote police station – the very outpost to which he was relegated.
Within this maelstrom of memories, a distinct recollection emerges – an argument with his wife. The emotions are vivid, even in these fleeting moments. But then, a shift occurs.
Another memory takes hold – an encounter with Thomas. It's as if I'm drawn into the scene itself, present in that small police station with Ethan and Thomas. Their conversation becomes audible, clear amid the chaos of recollections. Yet, I can't help but wonder: why does this particular memory stand out? What significance does it hold?
Seated before Ethan, Thomas occupies a chair, his words carrying a weight that lingers in the air. "You know," he begins, his voice calm as the evening breeze, "this place, especially in the evenings, it's like a refuge for me. We've had countless conversations since you started here. Yet, something feels different about you now. What's burdening your thoughts?"
Ethan's face carries the weight of his emotions, a tempest churning beneath an intense smile. "Oh, did I make it that obvious?" he replies, his words unveiling a vulnerability. "Lately, it's like life's been sucked out of me. I'm suffocating, trapped in my own mind, drowning in this overwhelming current..."
Thomas subtly shifts in his seat, his gaze unwavering. "I can see it, Ethan," he remarks. "But what if I told you there's a path to break free from this suffocation? A way to reclaim your life, to seize control and wield power?"
Ethan's brow furrows, genuine confusion etching his features. "What's all this about, Thomas?" he inquires, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
Thomas leans forward, his voice carrying a mysterious allure. "Listen up, Ethan. I'm part of a tight-knit crew, more like a family. We've got this extraordinary knack for breaking free from life's grip, drawing strength from the weak. We indulge in consuming human flesh, and trust me, it comes with a rush of liberation and power. Say goodbye to pesky bosses and family drama; everything falls into perfect alignment. Regret? That'll be a thing of the past."
Ethan's face betrays his stress, yet there's an uncanny glimmer in his eyes. "Human flesh, power, and happiness? You really think that's my path? Do you honestly believe I'd sink so low as to feast on my own kind? And let's not forget, I'm a damn police officer. You're pitching this in a police station, of all places."
Thomas rose from his seat, a laugh escaping his lips. "This police station? You really think it's just your average precinct? And yes, my friend, I see it. I see your dissatisfaction, your weariness with this mundane job. It's almost like you're ready to throw in the towel on your life... So why not embrace our offer and step up as our leader?"
He approached Ethan with an air of conviction, kneeling down and placing his hand gently on Ethan's thigh. "Join me, Ethan," he implored, his voice carrying an irresistible allure, "and ascend to the throne as our king!"
He's like a cunning serpent, offering a poisoned apple of promises. His words twist reality, a deceptive mirage. But what's his endgame in all of this? My thoughts churn in confusion, trying to unravel the threads of his sinister plot.
Once more, memories coalesce from the swirling tempest. This time, it's Ethan, solitary with Thomas, ingesting that forbidden meat. My heart races as though it were Ethan's own, entwined with emotions that flood through me—fear, regret, disgust, and an oddly intoxicating surge of power. Is it possible these sensations are Ethan's, coursing through me as if his essence has melded with mine?
I sense his regret, mingling with an undercurrent of power. He's putting on a façade, a charade, playing the role of a strong individual before Thomas. It's like witnessing a performance, an elaborate act of leadership and strength.