Some time later, amidst the pungent stench emanating from the trash, a testament to his desolation, Viktor felt an itching sensation accompanied by a mild ache all over his body. Disgusting creatures like cockroaches and ants seemed to swarm his grimy, foul-smelling form.
He glanced towards the mirror.
Didn't he look like a forlorn, lonely vagrant?
Then, almost unintentionally, his gaze fixed upon the date on his still-functioning but shattered digital clock...
"Wait? It's the 24th? It should be the 20th, shouldn't it?"
As he spoke, the air seemed to shimmer and twist, and a faint, haunting chuckle echoed in the dimly lit room.
A disembodied voice whispered, dripping with malice, "Ah, the concept of time becomes malleable in the realm of your new existence, Viktor."
Malphas loomed in the dark and dingy corner of his room. His towering form hunched due to being taller than the room's low ceiling.
His eyes alone glowed from within the shadows, a malevolent glint that pierced through the darkness.
In an unsettling symphony of shadows and whispers, Malphas's voice resonated once more, "Welcome to the embrace of your desires, Viktor. They have summoned me, and now you shall bear witness to their transformation."
In his effort to dispel the growing paranoia that threatened to unravel his sanity, Viktor darted out of his cramped apartment room.
All around him, accusing eyes bore into his being, silent conversations exchanged through their judgmental stares. "Is he mad? Perhaps a vagrant? Who is this wretched soul?"
The intensity of the sunlight outside momentarily blinded Viktor, stabbing at his eyes as he emerged from the gloom.
He stopped anyone he managed to find, bombarding them with questions to confirm or deny his assumptions. "Today, is it truly the 24th?"
Whispers of mockery followed Viktor as he continued his desperate quest for answers. "Did you hear him? Talking about the date like he's lost his mind."
As the crowd dispersed, Viktor felt a chill run down his spine. Paranoia gnawed at him, the tendrils of suspicion tightening their grip.
He felt as though eyes were following him, an unseen presence lurking in every corner.
Despite the harsh mockery that accompanied their words, everyone answered honestly that Viktor had been locked inside his room for four days.
"We thought you were dead. Even though the stench of your room is usually putrid from the trash, the smell of a corpse is different," remarked a girl with piercings adorning various parts of her face, her body covered in cheap tattoos that could lead to skin cancer in a few years.
Viktor's face turned a shade paler, a mixture of embarrassment and realization washing over him. His isolation had led others to believe the worst, and the blatant truth left him momentarily speechless.
The girl's blunt observation lingered in the air, an uncomfortable reminder of his own negligence and the consequences it had incurred.
As the weight of those four days settled upon his shoulders, Viktor's resolve to uncover the truth was reinforced, his determination stronger than ever before.
Swallowing his pride, he nodded and forced a weak smile, his voice tinged with a mixture of gratitude and self-deprecation. "Thank you for being honest. I apologize for causing concern."
The girl's gaze softened, a hint of sympathy beneath her piercing stare. "Just take care of yourself, okay? We're all struggling here in our own ways."
Viktor returned to his room, his emotions a complex interplay of wonder and the experiences he had traversed through otherworldly dimensions to reach the realm of those mesmerizing beings.
Yet, that sense of awe felt like a fleeting moment, swiftly swallowed by the stark reality he now faced.
Time, a fluid concept in those ethereal realms, contrasted sharply with the linear passage experienced in the human world, where the impossible was restrained by the confines of possibility.
As he stepped into his room, a mingling of scents greeted him — the musty air that whispered of neglect, the remnants of his previous fascination with worlds beyond, and the unmistakable aroma of expired instant noodles.
Three cups sat discarded near his bed, the symbols of his own negligence in the midst of his preoccupations.
Four days had passed since he last ate, yet hunger seemed to have little effect on him; the urgency stemmed from the creatures lurking, ready to devour any morsel left unattended.
In the dim light of his room, a shadowy figure coalesced in the corner. Malphas emerged from the obscurity, his form towering and twisted, a manifestation of malevolence in the midst of the mundane.
His eyes, the only discernible feature, glowed with an unearthly luminescence that seemed to penetrate Viktor's very thoughts.
"Ahh, the mortal world's perception of time is but a fragment of the intricacies you have witnessed," Malphas hissed, his voice dripping with an unsettling mix of amusement and disdain.
Viktor's heart raced as he recognized the voice that had whispered cryptic promises, the very entity that had propelled him into a reality he barely understood. "Malphas," he breathed, his voice a blend of awe and trepidation.
Malphas' shadowy form seemed to sway with an eerie grace, the tendrils of darkness undulating like sentient entities.
His eyes, twin orbs of malevolence, remained fixated on Viktor, seemingly piercing through his very being. "The strands of existence weave a complex tapestry, each thread a testament to the multitudes within creation. Yet, for all your awe, you find yourself tethered to the mundane, the triviality of nourishment."
Viktor's heart raced, both from the oppressive presence before him and the weight of the revelations that seemed to hang in the air.
He could feel the gravity of Malphas' words, a reminder of the duality inherent in his existence. "I... I've been preoccupied with unraveling the mysteries that have come my way."
Malphas' shadowy form seemed to contort in a macabre dance, his voice oozing with a sinister allure. "Mysteries, indeed. Mortals have an insatiable hunger for understanding, yet they often overlook the basic sustenance required for their own survival."
Left alone once more, Viktor's gaze shifted between the shadows and the noodles, his thoughts a tumultuous sea of curiosity and hunger, both mundane and extraordinary in nature.
The whispers of the ethereal and the reality of his situation entwined, leaving him at a crossroads of possibilities and revelations.
***