The world outside moved in a rhythm of clockwork, each second dragging and taunting Jay's mundane existence.
The monotone beeping of the convenience store register was the only thing breaking the eerie silence of the graveyard shift.
Jay leaned against the counter, staring out into the glass door as the neon "OPEN" sign buzzed faintly.
It wasn't just another night. The air was different, thick and heavy. Jay didn't want to admit it, but since the death of his grandfather, everything had begun to feel strange. Like it was never the same.
Shadows lingered for too long. Footsteps echoed even when no one was around.
"Perhaps I am just losing it," Jay muttered as he rubbed his eyes.
At 11:58 PM, Jay set out to close down as he did every night. He turned off the coffee machine, collected the day's receipts, and put up the sign that said "CLOSED." The streets were normally empty except for the occasional hum of a passing car in the distance.
Jay stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and set off down the road home. There was a weird quiet tonight in the city. It was one of those stillnesses that made him occasionally look back over his shoulder.
Was he being followed? Jay pushed the notion away.
He closed the door behind him and threw his bag across the room to crash onto the couch. The place was small—just a single room with a kitchenette and a cramped bathroom.
It wasn't much, but it was home. Or at least, it had been when his grandfather was still alive.
Jay dragged himself to the bathroom to clean up. He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face. As he stood upright, his eyes met his reflection in the mirror.
For a moment, everything was normal. His dark brown eyes stared back at him, tired but otherwise unremarkable. Then something shifted.
His right eye grew dark, and the brown iris was swallowed up in an inky blackness that seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy.
Jay froze.
"What the hell?" he whispered, leaning closer.
The blackness spread, consuming his entire eye until it looked like a void. He blinked furiously, his heart pounding in his chest. But the black eye remained.
Suddenly, a faint hum filled the room, growing louder and louder. The mirror seemed to ripple, as if it were made of liquid. Jay stumbled back, knocking over a toothbrush holder.
And then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped.
Jay's reflection was normal again. No black eye. No ripples. Nothing.
He stood there, shaking, his mind racing for an explanation. Stress? Grief? A trick of the light? None of it made sense.
Jay backed out of the bathroom, leaving the light on. He collapsed onto the couch, clutching a pillow to his chest.
The image of his blackened eye replayed in his mind over and over until exhaustion finally pulled him into a restless sleep.
A sharp knock jolted Jay awake.
He groaned, rubbing his tired eyes as he sat up. The digital clock on his microwave read 7:15 A.M. Who the hell was knocking this early?
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
Jay shuffled to the door, peeking through the peephole. Two figures stood in the hallway—a man and a woman, both dressed in sleek black suits. They looked completely out of place in his dingy apartment building.
Jay felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as he slowly opened the door to a width of about two inches. "Yeah?"
The man was tall and lanky, with sharp features soothed only a little by a faint smirk on his face.
The woman was shorter but equally unyielding, her features etched with no-nonsense lines and piercing eyes that seemed to cut straight through him.
"Jay Tomas?" the man asked, his voice smooth but firm.
Jay nodded slowly. "Who's asking?"
She stepped forward, her voice more measured. "We need to talk. May we come in?" she ended with a faint smile.
Jay hesitated, gripping the door tightly. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm not interested in whatever you're selling."
The man's smirk went wider, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We're not here to sell you anything, Jay. We're here to offer you a choice."
"A decision?" Jay asked, puzzled.
"Let us in," the woman said, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "It's important."
Against his better judgment, Jay opened the door wider and stepped aside. The pair entered, their presence commanding despite their calm demeanor.
The man surveyed the apartment with mild disdain. "Cozy," he remarked, brushing an invisible speck of dust off his sleeve.
The woman ignored him and turned to Jay. "I'm Alina, and this is Victor. We represent an organization called the Assassin's Crib."
Jay blinked, sure he'd misheard. "The what now?"
Victor chuckled. "It's a terrible name, I know. But trust me, the work we do is far from childish."
Alina shot Victor a warning glance before continuing. "Jay, your grandfather was one of us. One of the best, actually."
Jay's stomach dropped. "My grandfather? No, you must have the wrong guy. He was just... he wasn't anything like that."
Alina's expression softened, but just a little. "Your grandfather's past was... complicated. He was a man of secrets. Things he never shared with you."
Jay's chest compressed. "What are you talking about? He was a quiet man. He barely talked about his youth."
Victor laughed dryly. "He wouldn't. His job required discretion, Jay. But those who knew him knew. Your grandfather was one of the finest operatives we ever had, and now it's your turn."
Jay shook his head vigorously. "What? You want me to be him? To become... an assassin?"
"We don't use that term lightly," Alina said firmly. "But yes, in a sense, that's exactly what we're asking you to become."
Jay recoiled, his back hitting the wall behind him. "This is insane. My grandfather... an assassin? No way."
"Your grandpa was much more than that," Alina murmured on, her voice now gentle, almost coaxing. "There are things, Jay, things you don't know yet. The things that have been happening—your black eye, the peculiar urge to go to this or that place—they don't come by coincidence or even a curse. That is a gift. A gift that was passed down to you."
Jay's heartbeat roared in his chest. Confusion and even denial had his mind scrambling with its own thoughts.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a guy... a cashier at a convenience store. I'm nobody."
"Wrong," Victor said sharply. "You're more than that. And you don't have a choice, Jay. Not anymore."
Jay was about to say something, but Victor took out a very nice-looking black phone. He began to swipe and tap, handing the phone to Jay after a few taps.
Jay stared at the video of his bathroom mirror from last night. The right side of his eye turned black. The mirror rippled. Jay's heart skipped when he watched it on the screen.
"How did you get this?" he whispered, voice trembling.
"We've been watching you," Alina said, her voice turning cold. "And I promise you, this is just the beginning. There's more going on for you, much, much more than you can even think about."
Jay retreated, just about dropping the phone. "What am I supposed to say? My grandfather was some sort of... killer, and now I've got to do it too?"
"We are not asking you to do anything yet," Victor said. "But you will. When the time comes."
Alina stepped forward and touched Jay's shoulder with her hand. "You can fight it, try to deny it, but you can't escape it. When you're ready to accept who you are, who you've always been, we'll be waiting."
The room became quiet for a split second as Jay looked down at the black card that Victor had slid into his palm. The single silver word etched into the card read: CRIB.
Just when he had opened his mouth to ask another question, the lights in the apartment began to flicker again.
The mirror.
It rippled again.
Jay turned toward the bathroom and couldn't help himself. That same unnatural hum from before filled the room.
Then something seemed to reach into his soul, pulling him forward. His heart racing, he took a step forward. The mirror began to throb once again, and something stepped through.
Jay's breath came to a halt in his throat as he saw it: a figure, cast in darkness, stood directly behind his reflection, where eyes shone with an otherworldly glow, dim in the light.