My alarm's gentle tones, supposed to soothe me awake, just pissed me off. Great, another day in this tiny, suffocating room. I glared at the peeling wallpaper, feeling trapped in this house I couldn't wait to get away from. It sat tucked behind a line of dull brick houses, all identical, offering a fantastic view of the crappy British weather.

I slapped the alarm off and opened my eyes, ready to face another miserable day. But wait—words? Floating in mid-air. I blinked hard, rubbed my eyes—maybe I was still half-asleep or hallucinating. No change. The words were still there, clear as day. I waved my hand through them like swatting at flies, but my hand just passed through. Confusion hit me like a brick.

Did someone spike my biryani last night? I racked my brain, trying to remember if anything seemed off during dinner.

I stumbled to the bathroom, nearly tripping over a pile of dirty laundry. Maybe a splash of water would snap me out of this weirdness. But nope—the words were still there, stubborn as ever, hanging in the air like a bad joke I splashed water again on my face, letting it drip down my neck. Nothing. They weren't going away.

Panic started to rise. My hands were shaking. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I stared at the words hanging in the air, like they held some secret I needed to unlock, some answer to this madness.

Enter your name to proceed...

No keyboard, no touchscreen, nothing. Just floating words waiting for input. So, I figured, why not say it? What did I have to lose at this point?

"Zakir Osman," I said.

Thank you... Processing, please wait.

………………….

Welcome, Zakir, to the system. Please choose from the available AI models to be your assistant. To choose, simply say the name. Note: This choice is final.

Available AI Assistant: X10

Freaking out didn't even cover it. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. But I thought, screw it, let's see where this goes. Every part of me wanted to bolt, to run and hide, but curiosity—or maybe stupidity—won out.

"X10," I mumbled, my voice shaky. The name felt strange on my tongue.

Processing your selection, please wait...

I held my breath, waiting for something—anything—to happen What now? Was I losing it? Maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe I had a brain tumour or something messing with my senses. The silence dragged on, each second stretching into an eternity. Just as I felt myself spiralling into panic, a voice cut through the haze.

Out of nowhere, a voice said, "Hello, Zakir Osman. Having a nice day?". I spun around, heart pounding. There was a man leaning against my window—on the second floor. That shouldn't be possible. His face was pale, hidden under a black hood and robe—straight out of a nightmare. But his eyes—that's what froze me. Deep purple and unsettling, they locked right onto mine.

"Uh... What's going on?" I ask, ignoring his odd greeting completely. Was I dreaming? People don't just appear at second-story windows.

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He gave a small chuckle. "Not the best way to say hello, I guess. Am I using the right language? English, right?" His voice was oddly calm, like this was all normal.

Yeah, but that's not the point," I snap. "What's going on? Who are you? Why are you here? I tried to sound tough, but fear was creeping in.

He smiled wider. "Three questions at once, but that's okay. First, this is an initiation. You've been chosen as the Apostle of Death." He clapped his hands like he was announcing the weather. "Second, I'm a messenger from the Death Lord, here to help you through this process. And third, I'll be with you from now on, wherever you go."

My mind raced. Apostle of Death? Messenger? This had to be a prank. Maybe someone was filming a joke show. I glanced around for hidden cameras but saw nothing. My body moved on its own, slowly reaching for my phone on the bedside table. I didn't take my eyes off him. I needed to call someone—anyone. This guy was nuts.

I dialled the emergency number, keeping the phone low, hoping he wouldn't notice. My heart was in my throat. I prayed silently for someone to pick up.

"Oh, trying to call for help?" His voice cut through my thoughts. "The police... they're like this planet's guards, right? How cute. Don't bother. I've blocked the signal. You won't reach anyone."

I stared at him, disbelief flooding me. How did he know? I pressed the phone to my ear, waiting. No dial tone. Nothing. After what felt like forever, I hung up. My hands were shaking.

"They... they didn't answer," I whispered. "They always pick up right away." My voice sounded small, even to me.

He moved so fast, I barely saw it. One moment he was by the window; the next, he was sitting on my bed. I jumped back, hitting the wall behind me. Panic rose like a tidal wave.

"Stay back," I stammered. "Get away from me, or I'll scream." My throat felt tight.

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Go ahead, scream. Only your family will hear" And when they show up... well, they'll be more than a little surprised by what they find. Besides, does someone who's the apostle of Death scream when he's in trouble"

I didn't stick around to argue. I leapt out of bed and sprinted for the door, only thinking about reaching my mum. My feet barely touched the ground as I flew down the L-shaped stairs, almost tripping at the corner. I heard water running in the kitchen—that's where she'd be.

I burst into the kitchen, gasping. “Mum, I need your phone! I have to call the police—there's a stranger in my room!"

She turned around, eyes wide. " What are you talking about? Who's in your room?"

I ignored her disbelief, scanning her bulky jumper for her phone. She tried to push me away, slapping at my hands, but I kept searching. "Where's your—oh, come on!" I shouted, freezing as I saw him appear in the kitchen doorway.

"There! He's right there!" I yelled, pointing straight at him. "Mum, call the police!"

"Who are you talking about?" she asked, looking where I pointed. "Right there! Don't you see him?"

She shook her head, looking completely baffled. "Zakir, there's no one there. What's gotten into you?"

Disbelief hit me again. I looked at her, then back at him—still there, still grinning. My heart pounded. What was happening?

Then my sister walked in, phone pressed to her ear. "Why are you yelling? I can't hear my friend."

I turned to her, voice desperate. "Fariya, do you see him?" I pointed harder.

She gave me a puzzled look. "See who? There's no one there." She scratched her head.

My stomach twisted into knots. My mouth opened, but no words came out. I glanced back at the man. Was I going crazy? How could I be the only one who saw him? It felt like I was talking to thin air. I tried to speak again, but nothing happened. My eyes locked onto his smile—it had grown wider, more sinister. A chill ran down my spine.

"That's right, Zakir," he whispered, his voice eerie. "You're starting to see what I am. I'm a spirit, living inside the system. Only you can see me. Only you can talk to me. And before you ask... yes, Zakir, I'm not among the living. I'm already dead."