Luke's gaze remained fixed on the golden strings. All of them were moving towards him sluggishly. As long as he stayed alert, he could avoid them.
He sighed and slightly pursed his lips. This thought didn't bring much comfort.
This was because the strings kept following him without stopping. They seemed almost alive, like they wouldn't quit until they caught him.
'Will they ever stop?' Luke thought, his mind racing. 'I can't just keep on running.'
As he dodged, he quickly grabbed his shoulder bag from the sofa and threw it at the strings. But the bag just passed right through them, as if there was really nothing there.
Luke stared at them for a moment, then grabbed a knife from the kitchen and cut one of the leading strings.
To his surprise, the knife sliced through the string, severing it in two. The bottom part wriggled briefly before losing its golden hue and slowly vanishing into nothingness.
Meanwhile, the upper half that was still attached to the ceiling shook violently like it was in pain.
Seeing this, Luke didn't hesitate. He cut the other strings and quickly retreated to the living room.
Yet, before he could feel any relief, when the severed strings on the ground had completely disappeared, those from above regrew rapidly. In no time, they returned to their original length and resumed their slow and relentless advance toward him.
Luke's hand trembled as he backed into the wall. When his foot brushed against the bag he had thrown earlier, he stopped and glanced at it, then at his knife.
'Why did the bag go through, but not the knife?' He wondered, biting his lower lip in thought. 'Could it be about sharpness? Or... something else?'
He crouched down and grabbed his bag. As one of the strings came closer, he swung the bag again, but this time he held on tightly.
To his surprise, the bag didn't go through. Instead, the string tangled briefly with it before its tip latched onto the bag.
This result startled him and he quickly threw the bag aside and dodged the other strings. He then watched as the string on the bag scurried away and resumed its pursuit of him.
His eyes narrowed as he reflected on the difference in his earlier actions. He bit his lip more in deeper contemplation.
'It seems it's more about contact than sharpness. I didn't feel anything when the string touched my bag. So… it might be safe as long as there's no direct contact. Maybe if I let them touch something else, I can avoid playing this unending chase.'
With this thought, Luke decided to take a bolder approach. He grabbed a broom from the corner and held it up high, moving closer so the strings could touch its bristles.
And just as he had assumed, there was indeed a connection between contact. Once all the strings made contact with to the bristles, their relentless pursuit finally stopped and they no longer behaved stubbornly.
Instead, something new had occurred.
Starting rom their tips, the wiggling strings immediately straightened. When Luke shook the broom, the strings that extended to the ceiling followed its movements obediently. No matter how vigorously he shook it, the strings remained straight and unwavering, refusing to tangle or resist.
Sensing that this change posed no immediate danger, Luke allowed himself to relax a bit but still stayed cautious. Though the strings had been subdued, their presence were still a constant reminder that the threat could return at any moment.
Fatigue hit him. It was well past midnight, and despite having slept for at least five hours, Luke still felt groggy from fever and hunger.
For a moment, he wondered if it was all a hallucination born of illness. But the vivid hue of golden strings dispelled any such doubts.
They were real.
No matter how desperately he wished to escape this reality, Luke knew he had to confront it.
The questions that lingered in his mind were, 'Where did they come from? And what triggered this phenomenon?'
Luke clearly had no answers, but the urgency to find them gnawed at him. This was especially when he realized the unsettling similarity between this experience and a puppet show he had once seen at the circus.
"The strings are obviously not scientific, they're likely a product of some mystical phenomenon," Luke mused, his voice barely above a whisper.
"They're like marionette strings, controlled by an unseen puppeteer pulling the strings from above."
His eyes instantly darted toward the ceiling. A cold dread settled in his chest. 'If they touch me… will I lose myself completely?'
Gripping the broom in one hand and the knife in the other, Luke turned and moved cautiously toward the window. He opened the curtains just enough to look outside.
As expected at this hour, the street and the buildings beyond were enveloped in darkness. Only the faint glow of streetlights illuminated the area, casting eerie shadows on the deserted sidewalks.
The outside was also filled with total silence as the people at this hour were mostly in their beds, resting.
Luke glanced back at the ceiling, then slid the window open, moving as slowly and quietly as possible.
Then, he carefully extended the hand holding the broom toward the opening, guiding the bristles outside.
While doing it, Luke's muscles were tensed. He didn't know if this set of actions would provoke a dangerous response.
Yet despite the fear welling within him, his expression remained calm and composed. Only the faint marks on his bitten lips revealed the nervousness simmering just beneath the surface.
As the edge of the broom made contact with the night air, Luke leaned closer, scanning the sky above.
"Just as I thought," Luke whispered.
To his dismay, the golden strings didn't stop at the ceiling. They extended far beyond, stretching endlessly into the vast night sky.
This meant that whoever was trying to manipulate him wasn't a neighbor or an entity that he could see and fight at any time. Instead, their power might be more potent than he a mortal could ever comprehend.
Realizing this, Luke's eyes flashed as he quickly retreated from the living room window to his bedroom. There, another startling sight awaited him.
A new set of golden strings rose from the floor, stretching upward to the ceiling. However, unlike his, their golden hue was dim and almost illusory. Had Luke not observed them closely, he might have missed their presence entirely.
This could only mean one thing. The strings originated from the apartment below, specifically from his neighbor who was likely asleep at this late hour.
This sight proved that this situation wasn't unique to him but perhaps had been present to other people as well. The only thing that made him different was he was able to see them.
"It's like I've suddenly become aware of something others can't see…"
His voice trailed off, fading into the room's silence.