Leroy jolted awake, his chest heaving as he clutched at his sweat-drenched shirt. "The Devourer..." he gasped, his voice trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. He sat up with a start, rubbing his temples as if trying to shake off the vivid nightmare that still lingered in his mind like a festering wound. The blanket slid off the bed, revealing a small, dimly lit room with black walls adorned with ancient symbols that seemed to writhe like living shadows. The air was heavy with the scent of old books and smoke, and the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the faint hum of a lone, flickering fluorescent light overhead. Leroy's breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to calm his racing heart, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of fear and paranoia. What was that thing in his room? The memory of its presence still lingered, making his skin crawl with an otherworldly dread.
Leroy trudged to the bathroom, his mind still reeling from the nightmare's dark tendrils. As he approached the door, he could've sworn he saw a figure sitting in the chair, its presence flickering like a candle flame in the corner of his eye. He turned to look, but the chair was empty, its upholstery creased and worn. Shrugging it off as a trick of the light, he pushed open the creaky bathroom door and stepped inside.
The fluorescent light overhead cast an unforgiving glare, illuminating the worn tiles and Leroy's own reflection in the mirror. He stood before the sink, washing his face with cold water to shake off the lingering fear. The water's chill helped clear his mind, and as he looked up, his gaze met his reflection. He stared at himself, taking in his 5'11" frame, which had become softer and rounder over the years. His obesity was a constant reminder of his struggles with self-care and motivation, a weight that pressed upon him like the humid air in the small bathroom.
Leroy stood before the window, the rain-soaked world outside mirroring the turmoil within. His mother's voice whispered in his mind, "Hey, Sonny." He turned to face the chair beside the window, where she sat, shrouded in shadows. Her black lipstick and hair seemed to absorb the faint light, leaving only her eyes, two gleaming voids that drew him in.
"I was worried about you," she whispered, her voice a sigh on the wind. "I couldn't sleep, thinking of the dangers you'll face." Her hand reached out, a specter's caress, and pinched his cheek. Leroy felt a shiver run down his spine as he gazed into her eyes, two black holes that pulled him into the abyss of his own memories.
"Mother, I'll be fine," he lied, his voice trembling like a leaf in the storm. But she just smiled, a faint, mournful smile, and looked away, her gaze lost in the rain.
As Leroy watched, she began to fade, her form dissolving like mist in the morning sun. He reached out, but his hand passed through hers, as if she were a ghost. And in that moment, he knew. She was never there. She was just a coping mechanism, a fragile barrier between him and the crushing loneliness.
Leroy collapsed onto the bed, his body wracked with sobs. "Mom, don't leave me, please," he begged, his voice hoarse from screaming. But there was no answer. Only the rain, pounding against the window like a dirge.
Leroy's memories swirled like autumn leaves in a whirlpool, carrying him back to his childhood. He was a boy again, standing in a desolate landscape, surrounded by the skeletal remains of trees. His mother's hand was in his, her grip warm and reassuring.
But as they walked, the trees grew taller, their branches twisting into grotesque, human-like forms. Leroy's mother began to fade, her hand slipping from his grasp. He tried to hold on, but she vanished into the shadows, leaving him alone.
A figure emerged from the darkness, its face a death's mask with sunken eyes. It reached out a bony hand and beckoned Leroy closer. He tried to run, but his feet were rooted to the spot.
The figure loomed over him, its presence suffocating. Leroy's breath came in short gasps as it whispered a single word in his ear: "Sonny."
Leroy's eyes snapped open, his heart racing like a wild animal. He was back in his room, the rain still pounding against the window. But the memory lingered, a festering wound that refused to heal.
Leroy's gaze drifted to the bathroom, the mirror's reflection revealing a stranger's face. But as he stepped closer, the features shifted, and he saw himself - not as he was now, but as he would be in the future. His older self stared back, eyes worn, skin weathered.
Leroy's hand reached out, fingers tracing the lines on his older self's face. He felt an overwhelming sense of longing, as if he was searching for a piece of himself he'd lost.
With a trembling hand, Leroy began to scratch his nails into the mirror, the sound echoing through the silence. His older self didn't flinch, didn't react.
"Please," Leroy whispered, his voice cracking. "Tell me how to be you. Tell me how to survive."
The mirror seemed to ripple, like water disturbed by a stone. Leroy's older self remained still, silent.
Leroy's scratching grew more frantic, the glass etching with fine lines. He begged, pleaded, his words lost in the void.
And still, his older self said nothing.
Leroy's scratching grew more frenzied, the mirror's surface etching with deeper lines. His breathing quickened, and his eyes pleaded with his older self. "Please," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Please, tell me how to be you. Tell me how to survive."
His older self remained still, silent.
Leroy's whispers turned to sobs, his body shaking. He slammed his fists onto the counter, making the mirror rattle. "Answer me!" he screamed, his voice echoing off the walls. "Please, just tell me!"
His older self didn't flinch.
Leroy's screams grew hoarse, his throat burning. He fell to his knees, his hands grasping the edge of the counter. "Please," he begged, his voice barely audible. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me like this."
His older self's silence was deafening.
Leroy's body wracked with sobs, his face contorted in anguish. He screamed again, his voice shattering the silence. "PLEASE!"
The mirror seemed to shudder, but his older self remained still, silent.
Leroy's screams faded into whimpers, his body exhausted. He lay there, broken, his eyes fixed on his older self.
"In my dreams, you appear, an enigma to unravel
Sitting in the shadows, with a gaze that's both fierce and gravel
A blink, a stare, a silence that echoes through my mind
A strength that's unyielding, like a wolf that's left behind
Your space, a humble sanctuary, with only essentials to share
A bed, a window, dumbbells, and a pull-up bar to bear
Yet, in that simplicity, a power so majestic resides
A strength that I covet, but at what cost, I'm still unable to hide
I ask you, what price did you pay to reach such heights?
To forge such discipline, such unyielding might?
But you remain silent, your gaze still fixed on me
Your quiet speaks volumes, of a journey that's both divine and free
A path that I'm still searching for, to align my spirit's core
To find the strength that lies within, to rise above the roar"
Leroy's words hang in the air, his eyes locked on his older self, who still stares back, silent and unyielding. The silence is deafening, yet it speaks volumes of the journey, the struggles, and the strength that Leroy so desperately seeks.
Leroy's words fade away, his voice barely audible. His older self remains silent, the gaze still fixed on him. Suddenly, the room begins to blur, and Leroy's vision distorts.
Faces appear around him, a sea of unfamiliar eyes staring down. Leroy's mind reels as he tries to recognize them, but they're all strangers.
The faces close in, their features blurring together. Leroy's breath quickens, his heart racing. He tries to speak, but his voice is lost in the void.
The faces keep coming, a never-ending tide of unknown eyes. Leroy's vision tunnels, his focus narrowing to a single point.
And then, everything goes black.
Leroy lies there, surrounded by the silent faces, his fate unknown.