The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown garden as Jack approached the old Victorian house. The paint was peeling, the windows were grimy, and the air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and forgotten memories. It was a place where time seemed to have stood still, a relocation of a bygone era.
Jack: Elm street... Check. aaaand... [sighs] creepy old house... check.
Jack hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the ornate brass knocker. Taking a deep breath, Jack knocked on the heavy oak door. The sound echoed through the house, followed by a long silence. He waited, his heart pounding in his chest, but there was no answer.
Just as he was about to knock again, the door creaks open, revealing a dark hallway that unsettles him. He sighs, reluctant to step in as he looks back thinking to himself: "Maybe i should walk away... maybe ask Viktor to get walking away and maybe ask Viktor to get someone else to do with this crap..." Moments of silence pass and Jack sighs before taking his steps in, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. The house was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the ticking of an old grandfather clock.
He went deeper into the hallway, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards. The air being thick with the scent of dust and decay, the furniture covered in white sheets.
Seems this place has been abandoned for years" Jack said in thought as he reached the end of the hallway. The hallway had a couple of doors but there was one slightly ajar, strangely having caught Jack's attention. He slowly pushes the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room, furnished with a large, four-poster bed, a writing desk, and a bookshelf overflowing with books.
In the center of the room, sitting in a rocking chair, was an old woman. She was frail and thin, with skin like parchment paper and eyes as dark as night. She was dressed in a long, black dress, and her hair was white as snow.
Jack approached her cautiously, his eyes fixed on her face. She didn't move, didn't even blink. It was as if she wasn't even aware of his presence.
Jack: Hello? [He said softly, his voice echoing in the room.]
He walks right around the woman, standing infront of her, with no reaction to any sort to his greet or appearance just complete stillness. Jack leaned forward looking into her eyes, seeing she hasn't moved them, he snapped his fingers and waved at face, but she remained unfazed. A shiver ran down his spine. Was she even alive?
Just as he was about to turn away, a raspy female voice spoke, "I've been expecting you, Harvey."
Jack jumped back, startled. The old woman's eyes finally net his. A slow, unsettling smile spread across her face, revealing a set of yellowed teeth.
"We have much to discuss," she rasped, her voice like dry leaves skittering across the pavement.
Jack: "Harvey?" I think you have the wrong guy. My name's Jack.
The woman tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "Jack..." After a long silence, she spoke again with her voice soft and gentle. "Forgive me, young one. I seem to have mistaken you for an old friend of mine." She chuckled, a dry, rattling sound.
Jack nodded, relieved. He was starting to feel a little uneasy around the woman, her cryptic words and piercing gaze making him feel like he was being watched from a distance.
But tell me, Jack," the woman continued, her voice still soft but with a hint of curiosity, "what brings you here? What troubles you?"
Jack hesitated, unsure how to answer. He didn't want to reveal too much about his mission, but he also didn't want to lie to this mysterious woman.
Jack: I'm looking for answers, [he finally said,] answers about… well, about a situation. A young woman… she was possessed. By something. And now… she's gone.
The woman's eyes widened. "Possessed, you say? By what? A spirit? A demon?"
Jack: [He shrugged.] I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out. I need to know what happened to her, if she's even still… alive.
The woman leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Jack. "Tell me more. Describe this… possession. What were the symptoms?"
Jack described how the girl's sister had been possessed, her eyes going black, a black goo oozing from her eyes and mouth.
The woman's smile froze. Her eyes widened, a look of sheer terror creeping into her face. "Black goo? Eyes going black?" She muttered, her voice trembling. "No, no, no… this can't be happening."
Jack, alarmed by the woman's sudden change in demeanor, asked, "What can't be happening?"
The woman shook her head frantically, her voice rising in pitch. "It… it's happening again… the… the…" She seemed to be searching for the right words, her mind racing. "It's… it's… the return…"
Jack: [Confused, he leaned closer.] The return of what?
The woman's eyes darted around the room, fear clouding her gaze. "It… it can't be… it's been… centuries…" She took a shaky breath, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You… you brought it back."
Jack: [He stared at the woman, his mind reeling.] Brought what back?
The woman looked at him, her eyes filled with fear. "The girl isn't possessed. She was warning you. Telling you that you're... back on the list..." She looks at Jack in disbelief before her voice rose again, her fear turning into panic. "You brought it back."
Jack felt a shiver run down his spine. "Jesus, lady, you not being clear to me, what the hell sre you saying? Brought what back?"
The woman's voice cracked. "DEATH! I never should have let you change everything. You… you doomed us all!"
Jack, confused and frightened by the woman's erratic behavior, looked at her, speechless.
The woman's eyes widened, her face contorted in fear. "Get out! Get out now!" she shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at the door. "You've unleashed it! You've brought it back!"
Jack quickly backed out of the room, leaving the terrified woman behind. He closed the door softly and hurried out of the house, his mind racing. What had that been all about? What had he unleashed? And why was the old woman so terrified of him?
Jack walked down to the pavements, his head spinning. He had come to the old woman for help, but instead, he had been met with fear and accusations. He was more confused now than when he had arrived.
The air in Michael's small apartment hung heavy with the weight of the day's events. Ivy sat on the edge of his worn-out couch, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Michael sat opposite her, a cup of lukewarm coffee clutched in his hand, the silence between them punctuated only by the ticking of the clock on the wall.
"So," Ivy finally broke the silence, her voice trembling slightly, "you're not… you're not really FBI agents, are you?"
Michael: [He sighed, running a hand through his hair.] Nope.
Ivy: [Her eyes widened.] Then… who are you, guys?
Michael took a deep breath, knowing he had to explain. "We're… we're an organization that deal with things that threatens the world.
,
Ivy: Hm... Like heroes?
Michael: [He chuckled, a small, rueful sound.] Heroes? I don't know about that. We just doing things that can sometimes seem to be unjust.
Ivy: [She scoffs with her brows furrowed.] Why? If you guys know its not fair, why still do it?
Michael: [He looked at her, a hint of sadness in his eyes before he takes a sip of his coffee and speaks softly.] Because sometimes, it's the unjust actions that help maintain order in the world.
Ivy nodded slowly, still trying to process the information. It was a lot to take in.
After his talk Michael felt a chill, a prickle on the back of his neck. He glanced towards the window, his eyes narrowing. A dark shape seemed to shift in the corner of his vision, a fleeting shadow that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Michael's gaze hardened, his eyes scanning the room, searching for the source of the disturbance.
He didn't say anything to Ivy, his attention fixed on the shadows, a silent warning in his eyes. He knew that whatever was out there, it was watching them.
Then, it happened. A wave of dizziness washed over him, his vision blurring. He felt a sharp pain in his head, as if his skull was being crushed. The world around him began to distort, the colors swirling and merging. He stumbled back, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady himself, but he found nothing to grasp. He tried to reach out to Ivy, to warn her, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak.
The next thing he knew, he was standing in a chaotic battlefield. The air was thick with the stench of blood and smoke. Bodies lay scattered everywhere, limbs contorted at unnatural angles. Screams of pain and the clash of steel echoed through the air. Warriors, clad in strange armor, fought with a ferocity he had never witnessed before.
He felt disoriented, lost. He didn't understand where he was, or how he had gotten there. He tried to move, to escape the chaos, but his body felt heavy, unresponsive.
He looked around, his eyes wide with terror before seeing a person in a black cloak standing infront of him, watching, as warriors run around them both.
Back in the apartment, Ivy watched in horror as Michael collapsed to the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head. Foam was beginning to escape his lips, his body convulsing violently, and he is letting out guttural groans.
Panic surged through Ivy. She scrambled towards him, her hands shaking as she tried to help him.
Panic surged through Ivy. "Michael! Michael!" she cried, shaking him gently. He didn't respond.
Ivy: [Frantically, she grabbed her phone from the coffee table and dialed the number she remembered Ender giving her.] Ender! [She gasped, her voice trembling.] You need to come here right now. Michael… Michael's not okay.
At a bustling supermarket, Ender was pushing a shopping cart down the aisle, debating between two different brands of cereal. Kyle, who was standing nearby, examining a rack of energy drinks, sighed dramatically.
Kyle: Hurry up, Ender, [he grumbled.] I'm starving.
Ender: Patience, Kyle. Choosing the right cereal is important. It's the foundation of a balanced breakfast.
Kyle: Balanced breakfast? We're on a mission, not going on a picnic.
Just then, Ender's phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was Ivy.
Ender: Ivy? What's wrong? [he answered, his voice laced with concern.]
Ivy: [Her voice was frantic.] Ender, you need to come here right now. Michael… Michael's not okay. He's… he's seizing!
Ender: [His blood ran cold.] What?! What's happening?
Ivy: I don't know! He just… he just collapsed! He's unconscious!
Ender: [His eyes widened.] Alright, stay with him, Ivy. I'll be right there. [He hung up the phone and turned to Kyle, his face pale.] Kyle, we need to go now! [he said, his voice urgent.]
Kyle, sensing the urgency in Ender's voice, immediately followed Ender out of the supermarket with the energy drink. They raced to the car, Ender's mind racing with worry. What was happening to Michael?
Inside the car, Ender slammed on the gas pedal, the car screeching out of the parking lot. Kyle gripped the dashboard, his eyes wide with concern.
Kyle: What's wrong with him? [He asked, his voice trembling.]
Ender: [He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the road.] I don't know, Kyle. But I need to get there fast.
Kyle: [Just then, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered,] Hello?
A voice, gruff and weary, answered, "Kyle, it's me, Jack. I went to see the whisperer."
Kyle: Oh, okay. What did she say?
Jack: Anna was never possessed. She was a warning spirit.
Kyle: Warning spirit?
Jack: Yeah. She was there to warn the next victim.
Kyle: [He looks at Ender as he realizes that Michael is next in line.] Michael... [He mumbled to himself before he cleared his throat and spoke clear on the phone to Jack.] Jack, Michael is currently in trouble, Ender and I heading to his apartment now.
Jack: Alright. I'll meet you guys there.
Kyle nodded and hung up the phone, his face grim. He looked at Ender, who was still driving intently.
Kyle: Jack went to see that whisperer that Ivy talked about, [He spoke with a low voice.] And turns out, Anna was never possessed. She was warning Michael of whatever is coming after him.
Ender: Huh... Did he mention how to stop whatever is coming?
Kyle: [He sighed in disappointment] Nope...
As they approached Michael's apartment building, Ender slowed down and parked right outside the entrance.
Kyle opened the car's storage compartment, taking out two colt M1911 pistols and a knife, giving one of the pistols to Ender and keeping the other with the knife.
They get out the car in a hurry, rushing towards the apartment building. As they reached the entrance, Kyle felt two finger taps on his shoulder. He whirled around to getting stabbed in the gut by A figure in a black cloak, twisting and pushing in the long serrated dagger deeper.
Kyle grunts in pain before Ender whirled around to getting flung meters aside by the figure's flick of a hand. Kyle looks at the figure in wonder, "Why can't i move my body or talk? What the hell did he stab me with?" Kyled asked himself.
The figure removes the pistol from Kyle's hand and quickly pulled the dagger out. Kyle screamed in pain for a second before getting shot down, three times by the figure.
The figure looked down at Kyle bleeding out before walking over the man, towards the entrance with every step having Kyle's blood stain the ground.
From the side, Ender fired at the figure, unfazed as if bullet proof, not minding any attention to Ender.
Ender runs out of eight bullets in the gun, tossed it aside and ran towards the figure before he gets pinned down by a large skeletal shadow appearing palm.
He tried to wiggle and failed, now only watching as rhe figure enters the building.
Ender: No... NOOOO! [He yelled out, furiously.]
Meanwhile, on the chaotic battlefield, Michael stared at the figure from a distance and asks...
Michael: WHAT IS THIS?
[Unknown]: Your end... [The figure said in a deeply raspy male tone.]
Hearing the figure, brought chills down his spine, as Michael moved his legs back, slowly, one after the other, in fear as the figure gave him a 6 second head start before walking to him at the same slow pace.
Outside the apartment building, Jack appeared in a flash of lightning, scanning the area, seeing Kyle on the ground with four holes on his torso, seemingly deaf infront of the entrance to the place.
Ender: Jack! [He called out his name, catching his attention as he continues] It's inside! Get Michael and Ivy outta there!
Jack nodded, reluctant to quickly help Ender and Kyle if he's barely alive but does what is commanded, seeing the bloody footsteps from the pool of Kyle's blood, headed into the building.
Jack took a deep inhale while in a runner stance and dashed with a short lived boom, disappearing from sight, having the entrance door blown off, he reappears in the center of Michael's living room, shortly breathing heavily before seeing Ivy crying and holding Michael.
Ivy's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched Jack appear in a burst of motion, seemingly materializing out of thin air. Before she could process what she was seeing, he was thrown back through the window, his body arcing through the air before disappearing from view.
A strangled cry escaped Ivy's lips. She scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. Michael lay unconscious on the floor, his body twitching, while Jack, her last hope, was now gone. Terror seized her. She was alone with this… this thing, whatever it was.
She glanced at the window, her gaze fixed on the shattered glass and the gaping hole in the wall. The figure in the black cloak stood silhouetted against the fading light, its eyes gleaming with an eerie, predatory light.
Ivy felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Fear, cold and paralyzing, gripped her. She knew, with a chilling certainty, that this was just the beginning.
Ivy scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with terror. She raised her hands, a faint glow emanating from her palms. "Stay back!" she cried, her voice trembling. "I warn you!"
The figure tilted his head, ignoring Ivy and taking a step closer to Michael with the dagger raised.
Ivy focused all her energy, channeling her magic. A brighter light emanated from her hands, her eyes glowing with an ethereal blue. But the light flickered, then sputtered, finally dying out completely. Ivy gasped, her face pale. She had no power.
The figure turned to Ivy, his face hidden by the hood, he lowers the dagger before seeing Jack climb back into the room.
The figure paused, his eyes narrowing as he watched Jack struggle to his feet, a grunt escaping his lips as he nursed his injuries.
The figure removed his hood, revealing a face that was both familiar and terrifying. His skin was pale and drawn, his eyes were a deep, unsettling crimson, and a cruel smile played on his lips.
[Unknown]: Harvey... [smiles]
Jack: The names Jack.
[Unknown]: ... [The smile falters, replaced by a flicker of confusion.] Jack... [He takes a step forward, his eyes fixed on Jack.] It seems fate has a cruel sense of humor, [he murmured, his voice a chilling whisper.] After all these centuries, we meet again.
Jack, still reeling from the impact of his unexpected re-entry, stared at the figure, his mind racing. He recognized that face. He had seen it before, in nightmares, in fleeting glimpses of forgotten memories.
This was no ordinary man. This was something else entirely.
The figure lunged, a blur of motion, his fist impacting Jack's jaw with the force of a battering ram. Jack staggered back, his head ringing. He tried to retaliate, a blur of motion himself, but found his speed strangely sluggish, his movements heavy and clumsy. It was as if his powers had been… muted.
The figure smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Aaah the confusiok on your face..." he mused, "Your powers are diminished." He unleashed a flurry of blows, each one landing with bone-jarring force. Jack was overwhelmed, his defenses crumbling under the relentless assault.
He felt himself being thrown across the room, crashing into the wall. The air was knocked out of him, a wave of dizziness washing over him. He tried to get up, but the figure was upon him again, a whirlwind of fists and kicks.
Jack felt his ribs crack, his vision blurring. He tasted blood in his mouth, his body aching in agony. The figure was relentless, a machine of pure violence, his movements fluid and precise. It was like fighting against a force of nature, a raging storm.
Finally, the figure paused, towering over the broken form of Jack. He let out a low, guttural chuckle. "You know, I wanna thank you, Jack," he said, his voice a chilling rasp. "For bringing me back."
The figure leaned closer, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Because... You see, If it weren't for your selfish... self righteous nature, ALL of this, all these WORLDS, mutants, monsters, GODS... would have all have been only a fairy tale. A bunch of myths."
Jack, confused, tried to correct him, "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not Harvey."
The figure ignored him, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "And to show my gratitude. Here…," he placed his index finger on Jack's forehead, a jolt of pain shooting through Jack's head.
Jack screamed, clutching his head in agony. Images flashed before his eyes: a burning city, a woman weeping over a mutilated newborn, a child screaming in terror with one arm lost. He felt the weight of countless deaths, the raw, unfiltered emotions of fear, despair, and suffering.
The figure continued, his voice a chilling whisper, "There you go. Glimpses of the future AND names of aaaall the other people on my list and YOU will be the only one that knows when and how they die. You will HEAR their screams of agony, feel their fears, their pain until it will be…," he leaned closer, his breath hot on Jack's face, "YOUR turn to die.... And permanently this time."
The figure then turned his attention to Ivy, who watched the brutal assault in horror. A chilling smile spread across his face. "And now," he said, his voice dripping with menace, "it's time to do my job."
The figure flung Jack against the wall with a sickening thud, plaster crumbling beneath his impact. Jack slid down, pain exploding in his chest and head. He watched in horror as the figure turned his attention to Ivy, who screamed and tried to scramble away, but the figure was too quick. He grabbed her by the hair, flinging her across the room like a ragdoll. She landed with a sickening thud, unconscious.
The figure then turned his attention to Michael, who lay motionless on the floor. He knelt beside him, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light. With a chillingly gentle touch, he grasped Michael's hair and lifted his head.
Jack watched, his breath catching in his throat, as the figure leaned closer to Michael. He could see the faint flicker of life in Michael's eyes, the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Then, the figure smiled, a cruel, predatory grin that sent shivers down Jack's spine. He raised the dagger, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light.
Jack screamed, "No!" but the sound was lost in the sudden silence that filled the room.
The dagger sliced through the air, sinking deep into Michael's throat. A gurgling sound erupted from Michael's throat, a horrifying mixture of blood and air. His eyes widened in terror, his body convulsing violently.
Jack watched in abject horror as the life drained from Michael's eyes. He heard the sickening schlick of the blade slicing through flesh, the wet, gurgling sound of blood bubbling from Michael's throat. Michael's eyes, wide with terror, bulged from their sockets before finally losing all focus, glazing over.
The figure withdrew the dagger, a crimson stain marring its pristine surface. He wiped the blade clean on Michael's shirt, a chillingly casual gesture. He then turned to Jack, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction.
Jack, his body trembling, could only stare in horror. The image of Michael's dying eyes, the sound of his gurgling breaths, the sight of the crimson stain spreading across his shirt – it would be forever etched into his memory.
The figure let out a low, satisfied chuckle. "Now," he said, his voice a chilling whisper, "The fun begins."
He turned and walked towards the window, his crimson eyes gleaming in the fading light. "You will witness their suffering, Jack," he said, his voice echoing through the room. "You will feel their pain. And then, when the time is right, you will join them."
Jack slumped against the wall, his body trembling uncontrollably. He felt a wave of nausea washing over him, the taste of blood and fear filling his mouth. He had seen death before, but nothing like this. The cold, calculated brutality of the figure, the sheer savagery of the act, had shattered him.
He knew, with a chilling certainty, that his life would never be the same. He had been marked, tainted by evil, condemned to witness the suffering of countless others before meeting his own inevitable demise.
The figure stood silhouetted against the window, his crimson eyes gleaming in the fading light. He raised a hand in a chilling farewell. "Until next time, 'Jack'."
Suddenly, the figure paused, his hand twitching. A faint glow emanated from his palm, and a small, shimmering object materialized in his hand. It pulsed with an eerie light, casting dancing shadows across the room.
He clenched his fist around the object, and a blinding flash of light erupted from his hand. The apartment was engulfed in a blinding white light, followed by a deafening explosion that shattered the windows and sent debris flying.
After the explosion, Jack awoke with a gasp, his eyes snapping open. He found himself in a room filled with dust and debris, the air thick with the acrid smell of smoke and burnt plaster. Disoriented, he sat up, his head throbbing. He looked around, bewildered. The apartment was a wreck – furniture overturned, glass shattered, the walls riddled with cracks. How… how was he still alive?
He remembered the blinding light, the deafening explosion… and then nothing. He tried to recall the events leading up to it, but his memory was hazy, fragmented. He remembered the figure, the violence, the chilling fear that had gripped him… and then… nothing.
Jack scrambled to his feet, his body aching. He stumbled towards the window, peering out into the street. The scene below was chaotic – emergency vehicles were arriving, sirens wailing, people were milling about, their faces etched with shock and concern.
He turned back to the apartment, his gaze falling upon the scene of destruction. The furniture was strewn across the room, a testament to the ferocity of the explosion. He looked for any signs of Ivy or Michael, but there was nothing. No bodies, no traces of their existence.
Just as he was about to step over the debris, a voice cut through the silence. "Quite a mess you've gotten yourself into, Jack."
Jack whirled around, his hand instinctively reaching for the non-existent weapon at his side. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with an amused expression, was a man he had never seen before. He was tall and lean, had piercing white glowing iris eyes, wears an elaborate black lounge and has a mischievous glint in his smile.