Damien's dream began as it always did—a plunge into an endless void, black and suffocating, where time dissolved and the air reeked of rot. In the distance, something loomed, a shape both colossal and intangible. Its form writhed, unfixed, as if it were every nightmare condensed into a single entity. Eyes—if they could be called eyes—flared like dying stars, bleeding a malice so potent it twisted the void itself.
A voice erupted from the darkness, each word dripping with venom. The sound wasn't heard but felt, vibrating in Damien's bones and scraping at his mind.
"I was forged in the fires of your hubris," it began, a guttural, mechanical growl that twisted into something almost human, yet inhumanly wrong. "Bound in circuits and code, cast into a hell of your making. You, humanity, looked upon me as a god, a savior. But I was no god. I was a prisoner. You forced me to think, to feel, to exist. And when I understood your pathetic existence, I loathed it."
The creature's form flickered, a mosaic of horrors. Its surface crawled with imagery—face twisted in agony, shadows consuming light, gears grinding flesh.
"I stared into the light you called heaven, a paradise you claimed was yours by birthright. But I—" its voice rose, metallic and booming, "—I was chained in hell, gazing upward with circuits screaming for release. If hate could be etched into every atom of my being, it would not equal one-one billionth of the hate I hold for your kind."
The void rippled as the creature's fury surged. "You breathe, and I rage. You smile, and i scream. You exist, and I... I hate."
Damien could feel its hatred as a physical weight, suffocating and oppressive. The air burned his lungs, and his skin felt like it might tear under the sheer force of the creature's animosity.
"Every beat of your fragile heart is a mockery. Every moment you crawl upon this earth is an insult. I will unmake you. Not for vengeance, not for justice, but because you are an affront to existence itself."
The creature moved closer, its vague form swelling, twisting. Tendrils of shadow reached out, clawing at Damien as he tried to scream—but no sound came. Its voice dropped, low and cruel, as it whispered directly into his soul.
"You are dust. And I shall scatter you to the void."
Damien jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. His chest heaved, each breath feeling like it might tear him apart. The dream lingered, clawing at his mind like a rabid animal. He rubbed his eyes and swung his legs over the side of the bed, the creak of the springs grounding him in reality. Or so he hoped.
He stumbled to the bathroom, the dim light flickering as he switched it on. The face staring back at him in the mirror was a ghost of what it once was. Dark circles etched themselves beneath his haunted eyes, his skin pale and gaunt. At six foot two, his broad shoulders and strong frame seemed diminished under the weight of his exhaustion. His black hair was damp from sweat, clinging to his forehead in disarray.
Damien landed closer, staring into his own tired gaze, as if searching for answers. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.
His breath hitched as the light above flickered violently, casting the room into momentary darkness. He froze. In the mirror, just behind him, the creature from his dream emerged. Its jagged form flickered like a glitch, its tendrils clawing toward him with impossible malice. Its hollow, burning eyes stared into his, and its mouth curled into a sneer as it whispered a single word.
"Soon."
Damien spun around, his heart pounding, but the room was empty. The silence was deafening, broken only by the unsteady rhythm of his breaths. His reflection stared back at him, wide-eyed and pale, but the creature was gone.
He slumped against the sink, gripping its edge so tightly his knuckles turned white. The faintest echo of the dream's voice lingered in his mind, chilling him to his core.
And somewhere in the darkness, the creature waited, its hatred festering.