I have always regretted this moment. The moment of death. I am a dead man alive, and I may end my story here. Just kidding!

You - my brave reader - may hold this book in your hands, but the power of the mystic dead remains hidden within these pages. Unholy, unworldly, and undesired forces have seeped deep into the core of this story. Paper can conceal some secrets. Dark, terrible secrets. One cannot, and shouldn't, interfere with such cryptic dimensions. Events without source; powers without meaning; endings without time - these are merely illusions in our realistic, material world.

Oh no, no, no.... I'm not describing any cult or the "Illuminati" or whatever. That was barely an introduction for curious readers like you. For my part, my advice is : stop reading. You may read on, but I may meet you face-to-face, on one unlucky day.... after you die.

Ughh.... I suck at "introductions", so enough of all this nonsense. Time to cut to the chase.

My name and age is of no matter to you, but I can spare them - for a friend. I shall unveil my personal information bit by bit, fragment after fragment.

For the time being, follow me to my past.

I was a NYPD desk officer, bored to death by having pillars of paperwork eradicated every screwed-up day of my life. I was considered a bottom ranker 'cause of my inattentive behavior at times. One thing was clear about me - I was a major slacker.

So there was this one day when I left for a vacation in Virginia, to spend some time in tourism (and to be alone from the chaos-and-pollution factors of the NY concrete jungle).

Everything was smooth and perfect, shining like the rims of the 'Bentley Continental SS' I had recently managed to afford.

Before even reaching my destination, nature spelt out "k-a-r-m-a" for me.

The sky turned darker than a criminal's guilty facial expression, and thunder boomed like the 80s bass among the shadows. Those shadows - you could almost sense them tracing your movements.

Rain showered down, hard. The roads were deserted. I couldn't figure out why. Had I taken the wrong route? The screen of my car's GPS shockingly flickered. And my phone's battery was down (only 2% charge remaining). Damn. Shouldn't have wasted too much time on Wattpad.

Even my non-living car could sense something defile stirring in the environment. Simultaneously, the deafening dubstep beat of thousands of raindrops hammering on the windshield, plus the car roof, catalyzed the effect of being "lost".

I just didn't 'feel' being lost. I truly 'was' lost. Lost and lonely to such an extent, I just didn't feel lost any longer. Or was that quite weird of me?

Nevertheless, I kept driving ahead. I paused a moment to check the time.

My watch read : [10:03 pm]

Only two hours till midnight. No vehicles in sight, no people either. Just me. Me and my consciousness.

But my car's engine suddenly flopped. I didn't replace my foot off the accelerator, in order to continue the movement of my car for as long as friction didn't conquer it.

I heard another roar of thunder - nature's rockstar. Unfortunately, it sounded closer, much closer, this time.

Something heavy just dropped on the road in front of my car.

Pressing on the brakes, I prayed for not colliding with that 'thing'. The tires slipped on the wet surface. Luckily, my car just stalled an inch away from that 'thing'. Hopefully, my prayers were accepted.

The windshield wipers spun into action and I finally saw what the 'thing' actually was. Something big, long, massive, and organic.

A tree, damn it. A tree had created a sort of blockade in front of the road.

Without warning, my car's engine sputtered and died. The car keys didn't work.

I studied the surroundings. The darkness spawned in all four directions other than a small road-side café. A café that sold all sorts of coffee, judging by the neon-lit billboard sign. Coffee, yes. A little touch of caffeine could relieve my mind from the stress.

No path ahead on the road, thanks to the fallen tree log. And surely no turning back now.... 'cause the engine of the car was dead.

Maybe I could find a person inside who might help me find a suitable motel for the time being.

I ditched my ride and tasted some of the heavy "beat"-iful rain pouring down on me, drenching my Harris Tweed jacket.

The café seemed to be "open". I knocked on the wooden double doors but they silently slid open without my word. That sent a frightening dose of "uh,oh" sensations down my spine, freezing it to solid ice. I didn't know the reason. Was it the chilly aura of the freakish rainfall, or the fact that the café was deserted? Yep. The café was empty. Fully silent.

Not a soul in sight. Only some flickering lights and empty tables and chairs. The place looked lonely. Too lonely. What was wrong with this suburb? Did an apocalypse wipe out the citizens? Was there a curse regarding the location? Had a deadly virus or disease broken loose? My mind demanded answers. Every second, it screamed at me, "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? ..."

After a minute of silence, I heard footsteps.

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"Hello?" my voice began an echo that reverberated all the way across the hall. I didn't expect anybody to reply.

"Yes, sir?" a female voice startled me. I turned towards the direction and found myself staring at a blonde waitress. "How may I help you, sir?"

"Um....uh...." my mind was quite blank after that wave of chills down my back. I managed a few words, whatsoever. "Please....can....you....serve....coffee?"

"Sure. Which type?"

"Plain cappuccino or a latté, please."

"As you wish, sir. Please have a seat. I'll be back with your order," she turned back into the emptiness and realms of shadow.

I found the nearest chair, composed of ebony. The flooring was polished hard wood, so shiny that it reflected my own reflection in brownish chromes. This place seemed kind of....strange. Creepy. The café was so well-furnished, but I wondered why weren't there any other customers. Was it because of the rain, or what? I had no clue.

More than two-thirds of the café was bathed in darkness. The meagre number of fluorescent tubes on the ceiling weren't sufficient to provide good illumination.

And where did this waitress go? She was taking too long. I thought it was wiser to leave instead. The rainfall was calming down anyways.

Right as I was deciding to leave, the waitress walked out of the veil of blackness from the back of the hall, nursing a tray of plastic. On it, stood a ceramic cup containing fresh steaming coffee.

"Your coffee, sir."

"Uh....thanks," right as I was holding the cup in my hand, I glanced at the waitress' eyes. They seemed blank and black. Indeed, they were dark and empty - so unnatural that I almost dropped my cup.

"Careful, sir," she advised, with courtesy deeply scented within her voice. I looked at her eyes again, but found them perfectly normal. Ordinary blue eyes. "Just a minute, sir."

She returned back to the shadowy section, leaving me solitary again.

I got back to my seat and laid the cup on the round teak table. I watched the smoke dissolve into wisps in the air, steam emanating from the strong coffee.

Ready to try a sip, I noticed something move across the ceiling, in the reflection of the thick soupy brown liquid. Looking up, but seeing nothing. Nothing interesting.

Yet again, about to drink, I spotted a shapeless creature move across the ceiling. I gazed upwards. Nothing but a plain ceiling. Something was definitely NOT 'right' over here.

On the third time, I saw nothing stir in the reflection though. Nor did I notice anything in reality. Well, the situation was exceeding the limit of 'creepiness' and too out-of-place for me. Immediately standing up, I left the cup of coffee untouched.

About to leave, a familiar voice whispered into my ears, "Sir, you've left your coffee. Please pay up."

Without turning my head in any direction, without thinking twice, I drew out my wallet and threw as many $10 bills as I could, before quickly escaping from the confines of this chaotic café. Now....That wasn't a 'cool' experience at all!

I yanked my car door open, and inserted the car key. I hardly had a second to lose; there was no time in hand to understand the meaning of what's going on.

I twisted the key, expecting no result. But miraculously, the car engine revived back to life.

Stranger still, the fallen tree wasn't there anymore. There was barely a sign of the tree. Not even a single leaf. What could've happened? Who could've done this? That, too, so fast?!

My watch read : [10:18 pm]

*****

So I was halfway between New York and Virginia. Didn't know where I was exactly. Didn't know which pit of Hell had I just fallen into. I was certainly in a lost area or maybe a quarantine zone, devoid of citizens, pedestrians and vehicles on the streets. Yet, no normal person was found so far.

That's strange, 'cause the rain had also stopped.

I drove along for about twenty more minutes, before parking my car under the shadow of the Leafy Nut - a local motel.

The building looked more like an urban version of a classic condominium complex. In a matter of time, I got acquainted with the owner.

The owner was a 24-year old youth who lived in an apartment on the 2nd floor. She escorted me to the softly-lit lobby, where I stored my Remington 870 shotgun and two briefcases (one case was crammed with fugitive documents, licenses, etc. And the other was a stash of American cash).

After a swift conversation with the woman, I learnt a handful of facts about her. Her name's Catalie Leanut. Her parents had passed away, so they had left her this motel as an estate. She seemed cute and her behavior was motivating, kind, and chatty. I kind of found her spiritual nature "interesting"....more like "attractive".

She led me along a hall of doors (a corridor) and handed me the key to my chamber. I was surprised to find out that I was going to be her neighbor, i.e. her room suite was next to mine.

"Thanks," I bade her good night and shut the door. Ah....a relief. I shrugged off my Harris Tweed and relaxed on a soft bed. I laid my M9 pistols from the personal holsters, on a bedside table. I thought of turning ON the LCD 16" TV, but changed my mind.

The bed was too cozy.

*****

I woke up to the disturbing sound of someone knocking on my suite's door. It wasn't morning yet, I knew. Who could it be, at this late hour? Was it Catalie? Did she require any help or something?

I found the answer when I was just about close range to the door. Someone slid a photograph from under the door.

Puzzled, I picked it up and flipped it over.

The photo was of me, smiling at the café....holding that coffee cup. I didn't remember smiling like that. Maybe some Photoshop geek had edited the picture. And probably the sinister waitress had clicked this photo from the shadows. Who knows? You couldn't trust people.

I felt something wet and sticky drop on top of my head. When I touched it, my fingers were tinted red. Blood. It was blood. Maybe a butcher lived upstairs, and the blood was only leaking down from the ceiling.

But the ceiling was blank when I peered above. Not a single sign of wet patches or anything. No holes or cracks either. Then how the hell did blood leak out?!

Strange.

I looked back at my photo, and almost got stabbed in the heart with fear's dagger as I noticed the changes.

In the photo, my photo-face turned depressed and tensed. My photo-hand wasn't holding a cup anymore. And my photo-eyes were dark. Dark as sin. Dark as the eyes of the waitress when I had first glanced at them.

Someone knocked on the door, again.