I woke up to the sound of my alarm screaming at me, its shrill, mechanical wail cutting through the haze of sleep like a dull blade. My hand shot out, slapping the snooze button with a force that sent the cheap plastic clock skittering off the nightstand. It hit the floor with a clatter, but I didn't care. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling in time with the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat.
It had been a dream.
It had to have been a dream.
The crack in the air, the thing with too many eyes and too many teeth, the pain—it was all too much, too impossible to be real. I let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through my hair. Of course it was a dream. Just another nightmare to add to the pile.
But then my fingers brushed against my forehead, and I froze.
The line was still there.
I bolted upright, my heart pounding as I scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom. The fluorescent light flickered to life, casting a harsh, clinical glow over the small space. I leaned in close to the mirror, my breath fogging the glass as I stared at the faint mark on my forehead.
It was real.
The line was thin, almost imperceptible unless you knew what to look for, but it was there—a faint, silvery scar that pulsed faintly with a warmth that wasn't entirely unpleasant. I traced it with my finger, my mind racing.
How had I gotten home last night? I couldn't remember. The last thing I recalled was the alley, the crack, the thing—and then nothing. Just a blank void where my memory should have been.
I stumbled back into the bedroom, my legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. My head was throbbing again, a dull ache that seemed to radiate from the scar. I pressed the heels of my hands against my temples, trying to push the pain away, but it only seemed to grow worse.
And then the whispers started.
At first, they were faint, indistinct—like the murmur of a distant crowd. But as the pain in my head intensified, so did the voices. They grew louder, more insistent, until they were all I could hear.
*"Aether… Threads… Veil…"*
The words meant nothing to me, but they echoed in my mind like a mantra, over and over again. I clenched my teeth, trying to block them out, but it was no use. They were inside me, part of me.
I stumbled to the window, yanking the curtains open. The sunlight streaming in was blinding, and I had to shield my eyes with my hand. But as my vision adjusted, I noticed something strange.
The air outside was filled with faint, shimmering lines—like threads of light weaving through the sky. They were everywhere, crisscrossing in intricate patterns that seemed to shift and change with every passing second.
I blinked, rubbing my eyes, but the lines didn't go away. If anything, they became clearer, more defined.
What the hell was happening to me?
I turned away from the window, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My apartment looked the same as it always did—messy, cluttered, familiar—but it felt different. The air was heavier, charged with an energy I couldn't explain.
I needed to get out of here.
I grabbed my jacket and keys, not bothering to change out of the clothes I'd slept in. The whispers followed me as I stumbled down the stairs and out into the street, their voices growing louder with every step.
The city was alive with noise and movement, but it all felt distant, like I was watching it through a fogged-up window. The people around me were oblivious to the threads of light that filled the air, their auras glowing with colors that revealed their emotions—anger, joy, fear.
I didn't know where I was going, but my feet seemed to have a mind of their own. They carried me through the crowded streets, past shops and cafes, until I found myself standing in front of the alley.
The alley.
My stomach churned as I stared into the narrow passageway, the memories of last night flooding back. The shadows seemed darker now, more menacing, and I could almost feel the thing's presence lurking just out of sight.
But there was something else too—a pull, a tugging sensation deep in my chest that drew me forward. I took a step into the alley, then another, my heart pounding in my ears.
The whispers grew louder, more urgent, and I realized they weren't just in my head anymore. They were coming from the shadows, from the very air around me.
*"Aether… Threads… Veil…"*
I reached out, my fingers brushing against one of the shimmering threads. It was warm, almost alive, and as I touched it, a surge of energy shot through me.
And then I saw it.
The Veil.
It was like a curtain, thin and translucent, hanging in the air in front of me. Beyond it, I could see shapes—dark, twisted things that moved in ways that made my skin crawl.
I stumbled back, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
But it was.
The line on my forehead pulsed, and I felt a surge of power—raw, untamed, and dangerous. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, until they were all I could hear.
And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.
The whispers faded, the threads of light disappeared, and the Veil was gone. I was alone in the alley, my heart racing, my body trembling.
But I knew one thing for certain.
This wasn't a dream.
And it wasn't going away.