As the leaves had started to fall, days had become shorter. Thomas walked down the sidewalk, his wife's arm wrapped around his, a baby girl perched on his back, gazing around the street.
After dedicating three decades of his life to football, and achieving his goals, Thomas had finally retired from sports. His passion and power, both had reduced from what it was in his prime.
But even after living for 35 years, he didn't have any regrets or had blamed anyone for anything.
A supportive, beautiful—not with looks, but with the heart—wife, a 10-year-old son, to whom he had to pass down his techniques, and a two-year-old daughter, still wondering what to do in her life.
They has been living a peaceful life so far, looking forward to what the future holds for them.
After coming near the crosswalk, they stood there waiting for the green light.
Thomas was chatting with his family, smiling, when his ear twitched. In the midst of noisy surroundings all sounds seemed to had faded away, the time seemed to have stopped or slowed down, and the only thing he kept hearing was the sound of a ball dropping on the ground.
"Dude, can you give that ball?" Thomas turned to the call; it was a boy from the other side of the street, waving his hand.
Thomas lifted his daughter and placed her on the ground. "It's been a while," he smiled while staring at the ball.
With his gaze fixed on the ball, he walked, and then ran, increasing the pace as he got closer.
He planted his left foot 2 feet from the ball, and swung his right foot forward.
But unlike in the field, his smile faded, instead of turning into a grin. "So this is what happens when your passion dies?
"Yooo, mr.unknown what are you doing,'' it was the same boy again. Thomas looks at him, then looks in front, he had never kicked the ball properly, the ball was instead gone to the street.
He ran for the ball again, but the smile never reappeared. This time instead of kicking directly, he lifted it in the air.
As he was looking up at the ball, making sure no mistakes occurred, the boy looked at his face carefully. "Yoo, no way" he said, holding his head, before a grin appeared on his face. "That's Thomas"
He then turned around and shouted. "Hey guys, come here, it's—" he turned around to see his idol, but remained speechless with his mouth open. The ball somehow came to his hands but he still kept staring.
Another boy came running towards him, and looked at his agaped face. "What happened? Why did you call us?" Following him, came a few more boys.
"I saw Thomas?" He said, slowly with wide eyes.
"Thomas who?"
"The soccer player, I don't know his surname either, it was hard to pronounce so I forgot."
"Are you serious?" Said the other boy, looking at his friend with wide eyes. "Where is he?"
"He died, truck-kun killed him."
"What?"
"Yes,"
….
Thomas, whose consciousness had vanished in the blink of an eye, was gradually becoming conscious. He first felt his existence, then he felt his glutes on a soft object. 'sofa?' Then he forces him to flicker multiple times, before covering his eyes.
He looks around him, for a few seconds before realising that he was in a cubic room with no doors or windows, lights on the ceiling, wall painted in white, two sofa on two sides with a dining table in the middle, dividing the whole room.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" Thomas shouts, then murmurs while looking around, "What is this place?, Where the hell am I?"
He shouted again.
"If this is one of those prank shows where they trap famous people, make them think they're dead, and throw dumb questions at them—then listen up, I never cheated on my wife!"
"Whoa whoa, calm down," Thomas spun around, as he heard the voice. A man in his 30's, clad in white, a fork in his hand, and an otherworldly energy escaping from both him and his cloth.
Noticing the fork, Thomas looked down. The once-empty table, now filled with countless dishes. Thomas hovers over the table, and as far as it stretched, all dish were made from chicken.
Roast Chicken, fried chicken, Rotisserie Chicken, and a lot...
"That's..... chickens," Thomas says, dumbfounded by the sight before him.
"You want some?" The random guy said passing a dish, whose name was even unknown to Thomas.
"Pu… put that down, stay him away from me," Thomas declines, jumping on the sofa, closer to the wall. "Seriously? What are you? A chicken addict?"
"What are you saying? This isn't what you should say."
Thomas felt weird, as if the chicken addict isn't even a real person. As if someone is forcing him to talk, someone manipulating him, "That's weird," as if he… it was a marionette.
Thomas looked up, from where he was feeling a greater presence from; although he couldn't see anything but ceiling, he could sense the irritation of someone who was out of the cube, something more than chicken…
"Who is there? Show your face," Thomas shouts, with narrowed eyes.
Someone from outside of the room—universe—dimension—existence sat somewhere, maybe on a chair, inside of a dark room. The room had nothing special, except it was extremely dark.
An unknown person, their eyes are covered in darkness, their mouth tells their expression.
"What the hell is happening, why isn't he moving according to my will, am I affected by some kind of mental illness, am I going to die?, but I haven't even made my parents proud yet," He says, pressing his temple with both of his hands.
"I can feel you; you are right there; what are you?, where am I?" Thomas turns to look at the chicken addict.
But…. There was no one, not even chickens. It's only him, in the middle of nowhere.
"What is this place now? Where the fuck am I?" Thomas screamed.
"What the fuck are you?" The outer being screamed.
Thomas from inside, even though he didn't hear anything normally, everything was entering his brain directly.
"I should be the one asking all this; am I having a fucking illusion?, but I was always mentally healthy," Thomas says, looking at both of his hands.
"Fuuuuck." the upper being screamed, scratching his face.
Inner being screamed, holding his head, kneeling on the ground screamed.
"Fuuuuuck"
"FUUUUUUCK"
"FUUUUUUUCK"
"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING WITH ME" Outer screamed,
"Why the fuck are you doing this to me"
"FUUUUUUUCK"
"FUUUUUUUUCK"
The upper being stopped, facepalmed and rubbed his face, then calmed himself. "Breath in… breath out….." He removed his hands and tried focusing again.
Thomas, from the middle of nowhere, found himself back in the cubic room.
He turned towards the sofa on the other side of the table, not hoping to see the chicken addict. This time he was indeed there, with a big wide mouth, ready to swallow the living chicken.
The Chicken's left eye meet Thomas's, and they stared at each other in silence, until the chicken crows.
"FUUUUUUUUU…."
"FUU—"
Someone in the outer being's realms smashed open the door. "Shut the fish up,"
He looks back, ignoring Thomas's fuck. "What the heck is wrong with you? Stop cursing, let everyone sleep, or we will kick you out," she slammed the door back before leaving.
Thomas, after noticing that the other person had quieted down, he stayed silent for a few seconds, and tried sensing the other guy's presence. "Fuck?"
The word hung in silence.
After a minute of waiting, a weird smile appeared on his face. "Haha.., I won, yeah, I won the fuck battle zuuuuui" Thomas celebrated his victory on the fuck back battle while giving his signature pose.
He kept on celebrating, screaming, then he put his hand on the back of his ear, hoping to hear the audience, but the silence answered.