Kyle's chest burned, the pressure building as his lungs strained for air. He was submerged, his limbs flailing as he kicked upward, but the water around him was thick, resistant, like an unseen force was dragging him down. He could see faint light above, distorted by the rippling water, just out of reach. Panic surged as he clawed his way up, desperate to break the surface, to breathe.
But something held him back, a hand, icy and strong, clamped around his ankle. Kyle looked down, his vision blurring in the murky depths. There, half-hidden in the shadows, was a figure, its face hollow, eyes gleaming with a cold, unnatural light. It was smiling, its lips moving, but he couldn't hear the words, only the dull, haunting echo of his name.
"Kyle…"
He fought, kicking wildly, the grip tightening with each movement, pulling him further into the darkness. His chest heaved, every second without air a blinding agony. The light above grew dimmer, his surroundings fading into the dark abyss, and the figure's face twisted into a malicious grin, dragging him down, deeper and deeper…
"Kyle!"
The voice shattered the nightmare, snapping him back to reality. Kyle jolted awake, gasping for breath, his skin slick with sweat despite the chill in the air. His heart pounded, the remnants of the dream clinging to him like a heavy fog. He could still feel the cold grip around his ankle, the echo of that sinister smile lingering in his mind.
He had been dreaming the same nightmare for years again, what it means he dies not know.
The door of the shed creaked open, and he looked up to see Mr. Miller standing there, his angry face was just another nightmare but this one he will not be asleep to see it. Miller's face was set in its usual hard scowl, eyes narrowed as he stared down at Kyle.
"Get up," Mr. Miller barked, his voice sharp and equally impatient. "I don't pay you to sleep all day. There's work to be done. Start by mowing the lawn. Then wash the car, do the dishes, and clean the pool. Trash goes out by sunset."
Kyle swallowed, feeling the familiar knot of frustration rise in his chest. "Mr. Miller, about my pay…" His voice was steady, though he could feel his stomach twist with hunger. "It's been three months since I was paid, and I need the money. I've done every chore"
Miller's face hardened, his mouth curving into a sneer. "You think you deserve pay?" he interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Let me remind you, boy, you're lucky we took you in at all. A nobody like you has no future out there. This" he gestured around the shed with a mocking grin"is all you're ever going to have."
Kyle's throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak. "I'm saving to leave… I just need enough to start fresh."
Miller chuckled a cold and mocking sound. "Save up?" he scoffed. "You're never leaving. You'll work here till the end of your days, and you'll be grateful for it. Now, enough of this nonsense. Get to work, or you can forget about any payment at all."
The door slammed shut, and Kyle was left in silence, Miller's words echoing in his mind. He stared at the floor, fists clenched, his heart pounding with anger and frustration. But there was nothing he could do. No one to turn to. He was trapped, bound to this life of servitude without an escape in sight.
With a sigh, he stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stepped out into the morning light. The sun was already high, casting a harsh glare over the estate. The lawn stretched out before him, each blade of grass a reminder of the endless hours unend.
He grabbed the rusted lawnmower, pushing it across the yard as sweat trickled down his back. His stomach growled, but he ignored it, focusing on the task at hand. Hours passed in a blur, each chore blending into the next as he moved from one duty to the other. He scrubbed the car, his arms aching with each stroke, the scent of soap and sweat filling the air. By the time he reached the dishes, his hands were raw, fingers red from the scalding water as he scrubbed plate after plate.
As the sun began to dip below, he finally made his way to the pool. The water lay still, darkening as night approached, its surface reflecting the deepening colors of the sky. He knelt by the poolside, skimming the water for leaves, the ripples distorting his reflection.
His stomach twisted with hunger, the day's chores weighing heavily on him. His hands were numb, his legs weak, but he continued his work, his mind drifting back to the nightmare that had haunted his sleep. He could still feel the cold grip around his ankle, that hollow smile beneath the water. He shivered, brushing away the memory as he focused on the task at hand.
But as he skimmed the water, a strange sensation prickled at the back of his neck. The air grew colder, a chill settling over the pool as a thick fog began to creep across the surface. He froze, watching as the mist curled around the edges, swirling in slow, deliberate patterns that defied the natural flow of the wind.
And then he heard it, a faint whisper, so soft he could barely make out the words.
"Ethan…"
He looked around, his heart pounding as he searched for the source of the voice. The fog thickened, swirling around him, and he felt a creeping dread settle over him, like an invisible hand pressing against his chest. He stood up, glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing there, watching him.
But the yard was empty, silent.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice trembling, swallowed by the thickening mist. The whisper came again, clearer this time, as if it were right behind him.
"Ethan…"
He spun around, his eyes darting across the shadows, the fog swirling around him, closing in. The air was icy now, each breath a sharp reminder of the cold. His heart raced as he strained to see through the mist, his mind racing with fear and confusion.
A sudden rustling broke the silence, the sound coming from behind him. He turned quickly, his heart pounding as he scanned the foggy darkness. And then a bird flew at him, a dark shape hurtling through the air. He staggered back, throwing up his arms as the shape collided with him, knocking him off balance.
He stumbled, his foot slipping on the damp edge of the pool, and before he could regain his footing, he felt himself falling, the world tilting as he plunged into the icy water below.
The cold hit him like a shock, stealing the breath from his lungs as he struggled to stay afloat. The water was dark, the surface above blurred by the thick fog that still lingered, casting an eerie glow over everything. His limbs felt heavy, his movements sluggish as he kicked upward, his lungs burning with the need for air.
And then he felt it, the same icy grip from his dream, wrapping around his ankle, pulling him downward. Panic surged as he kicked, trying to break free, but the hand held fast, dragging him deeper into the dark, suffocating depths.
His vision began to blur, his strength fading as the water closed over him. And in his final moments of consciousness, he saw a face emerge on top of the pool.
"Ethan…" it whispered, its voice echoing in his mind as the water claimed him.