The One In Shadows

Chapter 1: Blood, Men, and Bald Children

I watched violent flashes of bright, sticky blood get splattered on the walls of a place I didn't recognize. There were bodies everywhere, ones of children in hospital gowns or muted gray sweatsuits. They were all bald. Why? Don't ask me.

    I heard alarms alongside the pattering of naked footsteps, and I glanced around in fear that whatever had massacred this place was coming for me next. What I saw instead was a small child sprinting through the halls, and I couldn't control my steps when they started running after them.

    I couldn't quite tell if they were a girl or a boy, as they were as bald as the rest of the kids. Same hospital gown, too.

    It was like my body wasn't my own, as if I was watching through a TV screen. We came up to a door with a rainbow painted across it, blood splashed across the thing, and the child ran through it. Are they stupid? Do they wish to die?

    Everything started fading in and out, in black, splotchy ways. It felt as if I was in presyncope, everything was muted, and there was what seemed to be the ticking of a clock.

    I frantically twisted and turned, trying to find the source, when my head snapped to stare at the child. She was holding her arms out and screeching, her nose and ears bleeding. I could only watch her, my vision tunneling.

    A grandfather clock suddenly appeared in my periphery, and the chiming became louder. It hurt my head, and I nearly started screaming from the pain. It was all happening too fast, and the child was still shrieking. Will it ever shut up?

    It did, surprisingly. But only after it made a literal portal to another dimension, sending a blurry figure into it. God-fucking-damn, kid.

***

    I awoke with a start, sweaty and confused. I glanced around, trying to ignore the throbbing headache blooming in my temples. My brain comes up with weird ways of entertaining itself, that's for sure.

    "(Y/N)! Breakfast!" I heard my brother call out, and I groaned. I promised him I'd go with his little group on an "adventure," as they liked to call it.

    What I called it was an annoying excursion that ended with me being berated and ignored.

"Coming," I yell, hopping out of bed and grabbing some clothes. Basic T-shirt and jeans, as their fun comes with dirt and grime. I quickly run a brush through my hair, taming the tangled mess, before I open my door and put a fake facade of excitement on my face.

I bounded down the stairs, rushing to the dining room. "Morning, Steve,"

"Good morning,"

I grab a plate of pancakes, plopping down onto a chair and starting to eat. Shit, I'm still nauseous from seeing all that blood. I fight down a gag and swallow, smiling awkwardly at my brother.

"What's wrong?" He asks, devouring his own plate like he's been starved for years.

"Nothing, just a gory dream. You know the drill," I joke, deciding that food doesn't truly matter. I grab my phone from my pocket and scroll through my notifications, which weren't much.

"Ah," He sighs, glancing at me with a worried expression.

"Truly, it doesn't matter. It happens all the time; this one was just a bit more detailed."

He nods before looking down at his plate, eating a strawberry off it.

Paying more attention to my phone now, I press on iMessages. Steve loves adding me to his group chats. I hate it. But I can't make him feel bad for it; he just wants to include me. He knows how lonely I get now that mom and dad got new jobs, and I'm still grateful to him.