The pale light of dawn crept through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room. On the right side of the room, a large bed sat under the window. In the middle of the bed, Zeke Lennox, a small boy with short black hair, sat with his knees pulled to his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips trembling. Sweat beads on his forehead as he twitches involuntarily, his body shaking.

In his mind, images swirled like a storm. A dense mist rolled across the sky, it's unnatural blackness devouring everything in its path. But worse than the mist itself was the smile that formed within it. A wicked, monstrous grin, so wide it seemed to stretch beyond the horizon. Zeke found himself on the ground, his body paralyzed. The mist loomed above him, its eyes glinting with malicious intent. As the darkness closed in, Zeke felt as though his very being was being crushed under an unbearable weight.

No, no, no… he thought, desperately trying to escape, but the pressure only increased. Then, with a violent gasp, he opened his eyes.

His breath came in ragged bursts. He was trembling, drenched in cold sweat. Tears streamed down his cheeks, the fear of death still choking his chest.

That was just a dream, he thought repeatedly, trying to reassure himself. Just a dream. Just a dream.

As he breathed slowly to regain control of his racing heart, the door creaked open, and a voice cut through the silence.

"Zeke, what's taking you so long to wake up?"

Zeke's blue eyes flashed black for a brief moment, a sign of something deeper stirring within him, before they returned to their normal colour. His mother, Ellen Lennox, stood in the doorway. She was a slender woman in her thirties, with long black hair and striking blue eyes. She frowned in confusion as she noticed Zeke's pale, sweaty face.

Without waiting for an answer, she crossed the room, her hand glowing faintly with a soft blue light.

"Zeke, let me check on you real quick, okay?"

Zeke, still disoriented and exhausted, nodded weakly.

"Okay…"

She placed her hand gently on his back. A few moments passed in silence, and then Ellen's face lit up with surprise.

"Zeke… you awakened your soul power! When did this happen?" she asked, her voice filled with both curiosity and happiness.

Zeke blinked, trying to process her words. "I... I don't know. I had a really bad dream. I can't remember much, but it felt so real... so scary. After I woke up, I just felt... exhausted and afraid."

Ellen pulled him into a tight hug, her arms warm and comforting. "Don't worry, baby. For some people, that's normal. You must stay calm."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes narrowing as if deep in thought. "We should check if you have a special ability."

Zeke furrowed his brow. "A special ability?"

Ellen nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, it's rare, but it's possible. Don't worry if you don't have one. It's actually more normal for people not to have one."

Zeke's confusion deepened. "How do we tell?"

Ellen smiled gently. "Just try to train to increase your soul power. You'll naturally know how to do it. It will be like breathing—instinctive."

Zeke hesitated, his mind racing. "But... what does that have to do with special powers?"

"The soul power is connected to your special ability," she explained. "Once your soul awakens, you can use it like an extension of your body. It's the key to unlocking your potential."

Zeke, though uncertain, closed his eyes. He focused inward, searching for the unfamiliar sensation of his soul power. Moments passed, and then, a rush of warmth spread through his chest, flowing outward like a surge of energy. His muscles tingled with newfound strength.

"I can feel it... I have one!" Zeke said, his voice filled with awe and excitement.

Ellen smiled, her face glowing with pride. "That's my son."

Ellen tries to persuade her son to show her his special ability.

Zeke beamed, his excitement palpable. "But... what does it do?"

He was afraid that he might accidentally hurt his mom.

Ellen chuckled softly. "You're too young to worry about that. Just show me."

Though still unsure, Zeke took a deep breath and began to focus on his power. A soft blue aura began to shimmer around his body. His mom's smile faded, her expression growing uncertain. Her eyes widened, and for a brief moment, they seemed to turn an inky black.

Suddenly, she stood up, her face pale and sweating. A shudder rippled through her body, her hands trembling.

"Mom?" Zeke asked, his voice laced with concern.

Ellen quickly composed herself, her expression hardening. "Zeke, listen to me. You cannot show this power to anyone, especially not your father. Do you understand?"

Zeke's brow furrowed, confusion clouding his thoughts. "But why?"

She placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice soft yet firm. "Trust me. It's for your own good."

Before he could ask more, she turned and left the room in haste. Zeke stood in stunned silence, his mind reeling with questions he couldn't answer. Still, the weight of his power remained in his chest, a strange and thrilling sensation.

As the minutes passed, Zeke grew more curious. The power felt so new, so... alive. It had been hours since he first awakened it, and yet he couldn't shake the desire to train more. He wanted to understand it, to explore what it could do.

Eventually, hunger gnawed at him, and he decided to head down to the kitchen for a meal. As he descended the stairs, however, something caught his attention. Voices—loud voices—coming from his parents' bedroom. He stopped at the top of the stairs, listening intently.

It was a heated argument, but the words were muffled, as though a barrier separated him from understanding. His heart raced in his chest. As he crept closer to the door, he peered through the crack, but saw no one inside. Yet the shouting continued, as if the very walls were alive with tension.

Worried, Zeke made his way to the kitchen, but the room was empty. He searched the rest of the house, calling out for his mom, but there was no answer. His stomach twisted in fear. The only room left was his parents' bedroom. With a nervous gulp, Zeke moved toward the door and gently pushed it open.

Zeke saw his mother sitting on the bed, breathing heavily. When she noticed him, she managed a weak smile and said, "Why did you come here, Zeke?"

His body trembling and eyes welling with tears, Zeke stammered, "Mom... I don't know what's happening. I was really scared, so I went downstairs, but then I started hearing weird noises, and—"

Before he could finish, his mother gently interrupted him. "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's nothing," she said, her voice soft but strained. "Come with me. Let's make breakfast." She took his hand, and he followed her silently.

---

Days passed, each one more unsettling than the last. A week went by, and Zeke couldn't shake the growing sense of unease. His mother's behaviour became increasingly strange, her actions unpredictable and distant. Fear gnawed at him, but whenever he turned to his father for help, the man would only offer reassuring words. "This is normal," he would say with a forced smile. "Your mother's just tired."

On the seventh day, Zeke was jolted awake by loud, piercing voices. This time, the noise was so intense it felt like it was searing his very soul. His heart pounding, he stumbled toward his parents' bedroom, each step heavy with dread. When he reached the door, he hesitated, then slowly pushed it open…

A sharp, popping sound echoed through the house. It was the sound of a balloon bursting—an innocent, familiar noise.

Then, a rain of blood poured from the doorway, splattering across Zeke's face. His eyes went wide as he wiped the blood away, his heart thudding in his chest. But what he saw in that room would haunt him forever.

Blood. Everywhere. His mother's head was severed, resting near his feet, her arms and legs strewn across the floor. Her internal organs spilled across the room like a grotesque painting. Zeke's body froze, his mind struggling to comprehend the horror before him. His screams echoed through the house, the raw sound of grief and disbelief tearing at his soul.

"M-Mom!" he cried, his voice barely audible through the sobs. Blood mixed with tears as they soaked his face.

But as the blood splattered onto Zeke's face, something else happened. A sudden, powerful surge of energy coursed through him. It was as though the blood itself had awakened something deep within him, the sensation of his soul power increasing rapidly. His body pulsed with strength, his soul expanding like a balloon being inflated.

For the first time, Zeke felt truly powerful. His soul, once so fragile and unknown, now surged with unimaginable force. His body trembled, not from fear, but from the raw intensity of the power he now held.

The pain, the fear, the loss—it all faded into the background, replaced by an overwhelming sensation of power. His soul had been marked, changed. The blood was not just a symbol of death, but a catalyst for his awakening.

After the surge of power calmed down, intense sadness and fear started crawling into him.

Unbeknownst to him, outside the house, a small black cat perched on a tree branch, its eyes glowing with a dark, soulless blackness as it watched the scene unfold. Silent. Unblinking.

Zeke's world had just shattered. And something far darker than he could ever imagine was beginning to awaken.