"Tell me, Tyler... why do they call it 'imagination'?"
"Maybe because it's... imagination?" Tyler replied, his voice tinged with confusion.
"...?"
"Ugh. Imagination is literally imagining things. You know, stuff that isn't real."
"Why not call it thinking, then? You have to imagine a concept before making it real."
"Yes, but—"
"But what? There are no 'buts.' Imagination, by definition, is the act of conjuring the unreal, isn't it? Imagination is the engine of creation—without it, the world itself couldn't have been formed. To experiment, to discover, to even begin, you must first imagine. Until something is captured, it's unreal."
"Well... what can I say, you're right," Tyler muttered, clearly bothered. He shifted his focus back to the mathematical equations Mrs. Grace was scratching across the board, hoping to escape the conversation.
But Simon wasn't finished.
"So, tell me, Tyler," Simon continued, his voice unnervingly calm. "If something strange... something unknown, something that unsettles the mind... could it all just be a part of your 'imagination'?" His words dripped with a quiet, creeping malice.
Tyler tensed. His mind flickered back to yesterday. It was impossible for Simon to know what had happened. Just a coincidence... it had to be.
"What... what are you getting at?" Tyler asked, his voice tight with unease.
Simon's tone shifted abruptly, flatness giving way to something cold and threatening. His head twisted unnaturally, his eyes bulging as they locked onto Tyler. "Could all threats be just... imagination?" His voice was a low growl now, teeth nearly bared. "You... were threatened. And in response, you had to threaten someone close to me."
Tyler's imagination took over. As he turned to look at Simon, his vision warped. Simon's eyes seemed to bulge grotesquely from their sockets, his face contorting into a nightmare. Tyler saw them fall, saw blood weep from the empty holes, and then felt Simon's hands around his throat—inhuman strength lifting him, slamming him into the wall, crushing the air from his lungs.
He'd never seen anything like it. He was staring into the abyss that had been hiding inside someone he thought he knew.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Tyler's voice cracked as he snapped back to reality, heart pounding. Simon was no longer glaring at him. He wasn't strangling him. The room had returned to normal, and the rest of the class was absorbed in the math problems ahead. Tyler, still shaken, tried to rejoin them.
"Hm? I didn't say anything," Simon said peacefully, his tone betraying nothing.
"Uh... okay... I guess I didn't sleep well last night." Tyler forced a laugh, but it rang hollow.
Simon smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He knew. He knew exactly what had happened. And now, it was clear: someone was after him. Someone was trying to unearth the secrets surrounding him, to disrupt the delicate peace he had built. And he would find them. He would find the source of this disturbance and snuff it out before it could go any further.
After class, Simon approached a girl standing by her locker—Sarah, probably Tyler's crush.
"Hey, how've you been holding up?" Simon asked, his tone unusually casual.
"Hm? Why do you sound like you think I'm going through something?" Sarah giggled. "But everything's fine, really. What about you?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Just... have you noticed anything off with Tyler lately? Anything... unusual?"
"Now that you mention it... yeah, maybe a little. Why?"
"Well, you know, we're best friends. I figured if something's up, I should get some insight. You seem close to him too, so I thought you'd have noticed something."
"Oh, we seem close?" Sarah's cheeks flushed slightly.
"Sure, what's wrong with that?"
"Um, nothing! Maybe I should hang out with him and see if he'll talk to me?"
"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea."
"Alright! I'll do that. See you around, Simon."
"Also... keep me in the loop if you notice anything strange. I might be able to help."
"Of course!"
As she walked away, Simon's face twisted into a slow, satisfied smile. Perfect. It's all falling into place.
Everything was unfolding just as he had planned. Now, all that remained was to find the true source of the disturbance—the virus, not the symptoms. The root of this threat to his carefully controlled world. He was certain it would all be over soon.