Curiosity always ends badly, or so I've always heard. My life had always seemed ordinary to me. A student with a part-time job at a fast food store, my school life was typical, with good grades, friends, and good relationships with those around me.

I left my job at sunset. The atmosphere was dark and heavy, something I wasn't used to. The place was unusually quiet; you could usually hear the sounds of people around you and feel their presence. A chill crept through the empty streets. Everything was uncomfortably quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath.

I was heading to my apartment, which I inherited from my mother, thinking about the piled-up homework and household chores waiting for me.

Suddenly, I heard a strange sound coming from one of the alleys. The right decision was to ignore the sound and keep walking, given the oddness of the situation, but curiosity got the better of me. Have you ever heard the saying, "Curiosity killed the cat"? Anyway, I ignored the saying and walked into the alley, lighting my way with my mobile phone.

Curiosity had gripped me a bit; I thought I would see a familiar scene, like a fight between drunks or some shady business dealings. But what I found was closer to fantasy. A giant window the size of a grown man glowing with a dark purple light. The last thing I remember is trying to look through it, but then I lost consciousness.