Clay sat frozen, his hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling. His mind was drowning in confusion, fear, and helplessness. What was happening to him? To his family?
The eerie smile on Ben's face wouldn't fade. His son—or what looked like his son—was staring at him with hollow, lifeless eyes. That voice… that disturbing, distorted voice that did not belong to a child, echoed in Clay's mind.
"A life is loading."
Emily clutched Ben's shoulders, shaking him gently. "Ben, baby! Talk to me! What's wrong? Are you okay?" Her voice cracked, laced with desperation.
But Ben—or whatever was inside his body—did not respond.
He just kept staring. Only at Clay.
Clay's breathing was shallow. His heart pounded against his ribs like a caged animal trying to escape. His mind was a mess of questions—Who was that man? Where did he go? And now, who or what was inside his son?
It felt like a nightmare. A horrible, twisted nightmare that refused to end.
Emily turned to Clay, her eyes wide and filled with panic. "Clay, say something! Why is he acting like this?"
Clay opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Because he had no answers.
He wished he could tell Emily that everything was fine. That this was all just some misunderstanding. That their son was okay.
But he couldn't lie.
Something was very, very wrong.
And the worst part? He had no idea how to stop it.
Lily, who had been standing silently beside her mother, suddenly grabbed Emily's arm. Her little voice was trembling. "Mommy… that's not Ben."
Emily flinched, looking down at their daughter. "What?"
Lily swallowed hard, her tiny hands clutching Emily's dress. "That's not Ben," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's someone else."
A sharp chill ran down Clay's spine. He turned back to his son. The small body was still there. The familiar features. The same clothes.
But the soul? The essence of their little boy?
Gone.
Clay took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His brain was screaming at him to think. To understand.
Everything had started the moment that unknown man entered their lives. Who was he? How did he know everything about them? And why did he keep disappearing like a shadow in the night?
And now—why was Ben like this?
Had that man taken his son's soul? Was he possessing him? Was Ben even still alive?
The questions were endless, but the answers were nowhere to be found.
Emily turned back to Ben, her hands shaking as she caressed his cold cheeks. "Ben, please talk to me, baby. You're scaring Mommy…"
And then—
Ben blinked.
Clay tensed.
For a split second, something flickered in his son's eyes. A glimpse of something… familiar.
Ben's lips parted, and he whispered something so softly that only Clay could hear.
"Help me, Daddy."
Clay's blood turned to ice.
Emily gasped, her tears falling freely. "Ben? Baby?"
But just as quickly as the moment came—it was gone.
The eerie smile returned. The hollow stare. The emptiness.
And then, in that same unnatural voice—*not Ben's voice—*the thing inside him spoke again.
"A life is loading."
Clay stumbled back, nearly falling. His breathing was ragged. His mind couldn't keep up. He was losing control.
Emily sobbed, holding onto Ben desperately, as if her touch alone could bring him back. "No… no, no, no! This can't be happening!"
Clay clenched his fists. He refused to believe this. He refused to accept that his son was gone.
There had to be a way to fix this.
He had to find out the truth.
And that meant only one thing.
He had to find that man.
Whoever he was. Whatever he was.
He had the answers. He was the key to all of this.
Clay took a deep breath, his fear slowly morphing into determination. He looked at Emily and Lily, both trembling with fear. He looked at Ben—his body, his face, but not his soul.
And in that moment, Clay made a silent vow.
No matter what it took, he would bring his son back.
Even if it meant facing the unknown.
Even if it meant walking straight into the darkness.
Even if it meant losing himself.
Because the nightmare wasn't over.
It had only just begun.
Clay's entire world was crumbling before his eyes. The child sitting in front of him looked like his son, but it wasn't him. The hollow stare, the unnatural smile, and the chilling words—"A life is loading"—kept ringing in his head.
But then, something changed.
Ben's expression faltered. His fingers twitched slightly, and his lips parted again, as if something inside him was fighting to speak.
Clay immediately leaned closer, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
"Ben?" he whispered cautiously.
Emily clung to Ben's small shoulders, her voice breaking. "Baby, please! If you can hear us, say something!"
For a long, terrifying moment, nothing happened.
And then, Ben's entire body jerked violently.
His small frame trembled, his chest rising and falling erratically. His fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms as if he were in pain.
Clay's breath hitched. He could see it—a struggle.
Something—or someone—was trying to break free.
Emily's grip tightened around their son. "Oh my God, Clay, what's happening to him?"
Clay didn't answer. He was too focused on Ben.
And then—
Ben's lips moved.
A whisper escaped, soft and fragile, as though it was slipping through unseen chains.
"Daddy..."
Clay's entire body stiffened. He grabbed Ben's face gently, his eyes desperately searching for his son behind those lifeless eyes. "Ben! I'm here, son! Talk to me!"
Ben's breathing became ragged. His fingers twitched again. His lips moved, struggling to form words.
And then, in a voice that was his—truly his—he whispered:
"A life is loading."
Clay's blood turned cold.
Emily gasped, shaking her head. "W-What? What does that mean?"
But Clay wasn't looking at her. He was staring at Ben.
Because for the first time since this nightmare began, Ben was crying.
Silent tears rolled down his pale cheeks. His body convulsed slightly as though he was fighting something unseen—something powerful.
Clay felt a lump form in his throat. He wiped his son's tears away, his hands shaking. "Ben, what are you trying to tell me?"
Ben's lips trembled, his breath coming out in short, desperate gasps. His entire body stiffened, and suddenly, his voice grew urgent—terrified.
"Daddy, listen... please..."
Clay nodded frantically. "I'm listening, son! Tell me!"
Ben's eyes flickered with something familiar—just for a moment.
And then—he gasped.
His tiny hands gripped Clay's shirt as if holding on for dear life. His voice came out broken, as if he were in unimaginable pain.
"Find him... before it's too late."
Clay felt his chest tighten. "Who, Ben? Who do I need to find?"
Ben opened his mouth, but suddenly—his body went still.
His hands fell limp at his sides. His eyes rolled back for a moment before returning to their eerie, empty stare.
And then—he smiled.
Not the warm, innocent smile of a child.
But the same, haunting, unnatural grin.
And just like that, the eerie voice returned.
"A life is loading."
The sound sent a shiver down Clay's spine. It wasn't Ben anymore.
The thing had taken over again.
Emily let out a broken sob, clutching Ben tightly against her chest. "No… please, no!"
Clay clenched his fists. His jaw tightened, his mind racing.
Ben had tried to warn him. He had fought through whatever was inside him—just for a few seconds—to tell his father something important.
Find him.
Before it's too late.
Clay had no idea who Ben was talking about. But one thing was certain—it was connected to the unknown man.
And now, Clay had no choice.
He had to find the truth.
Before the nightmare swallowed them whole.
Before he lost Ben forever.
And as the shadows deepened around them, one thought echoed in his mind, over and over—
A life is still loading.
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