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Fears to Fray
Ch. 0: Prologue

Ch. 0: Prologue

Rain always seems to have impeccable timing, doesn’t it? It’s like it knows exactly when to come down and make life a little more difficult.

As luck would have it, the rain decides to come down just when I’m out in the dark, cramped lanes all by myself. The dull clouds above exacerbate the situation; it’s like the sky itself chooses to remain concealed from me, casting a grey and gloomy pall over everything.

The occasional vending machines provide some faint light, but even their feeble glow struggles to pierce through the thick fog that has enveloped the area. I can barely see even five feet in front of me.

But you know what? The sound of each raindrop creates a unique pitter-patter that echoes through the vacant streets, forming a peaceful ambience during the storm.

It’s a strangely comforting sound that’s drawing me in, drowning out the sound of my own heavy breathing and hurried footsteps. It’s almost like the rain is trying to soothe me, to let me know that everything will be all right.

However, it’s nights like this that remind me how afraid I am of the dark.

The endless possibilities of the unknown have always been terrifying, especially the lurking shadows. Not to mention the fact that I’m alone; the bare thought of it is enough to send shivers down my spine.

Despite all of this, I’m grateful for the rain. It might be making everything more difficult, but it’s also providing a sense of comfort and security in its own strange way.

As I continue to sprint, a peculiar sensation creeps in, and I feel lighter than usual. It takes me a moment to pinpoint the reason, but then it hits me. I don’t have my bag with me.

I must have left it at Yume-chan’s place; I remember setting it down on the couch while we greeted each other.

It’s such a careless mistake, and I can’t believe that I’m so forgetful. The bag contains all my essential items, including my laptop and phone charger.

I curse myself for being so forgetful.

The streets are quiet, and the night is still young. It’s late enough that most people have retired to their homes, and there’s hardly anyone around. I’m only a few minutes from my apartment; I’ll have to get it tomorrow.

In the meantime, maybe reflecting on the moments we spent studying together late at night could help relieve the pressure I’m feeling.

I remember settling down in Yume’s cosy living room, where we spread our notes, textbooks, and stationery on the coffee table. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, creating a perfect setting for our revision session.

MCI1 [https://i.ibb.co/tYdSDZC/MCI1.png]

A lamp lit the room, casting a soft glow and pushing back the encroaching darkness.

Despite our initial plan to focus solely on revision, our conversation quickly evolved into lively discussions about a range of topics…

“Ah! Hikari-chan. I totally forgot! There’s this cool novel I think you’ll like.”

“Oh, come on, Yume-chan. Another horror story? You know I despise horror.”

“Don’t be such a wimp; just try it. It’s got this intriguing plot twist that I’m sure you’ll appreciate. Plus, the character develop—”

“Fine, but if I can’t sleep tonight, it’s on you.”

I took the book she playfully shoved onto me and sighed. I guess I was a bit intrigued.

“Deal! And don’t worry, I promise it’s more thrilling than terrifying.”

Yume grinned, sealing our impromptu deal.

“You better hope so. I won’t forgive you if I have nightmares.”

I put the book in my bag and made a mental note to read it once I returned home. Can’t really do that now since I left my bag at her place.

Anyway, after that, we slowly drew away from our studies.

“Hikari-channn!”

I felt a sudden weight on my back as Yume jumped onto me and let out a small sigh, trying not to sound too exasperated.

“What is it this time?” I asked her with a smile.

She paused, as if she didn’t know what she wanted to do. However, she eventually thought of something.

“I want to—”

“—watch a movie together?” I finished for her.

“Wha—how did you know?” Yume replied, feigning surprise.

“Call it a lucky guess. So, any particular movie in mind, or are you just in the mood for cinematic exploration?”

Yume pondered for a moment, her fingers tapping against my shoulder.

“Hikari-chan, have you ever wondered what it would be like to time travel?”

I chuckled at Yume’s sudden shift in topic.

“Time travel, huh? That’s a pretty big leap from horror novels.”

“Exactly! That’s the beauty of it. Imagine the possibilities—going back to the past, seeing historical events unfold, or even glimpsing into the future. It’s mind-boggling, isn’t it?”

“Sure, it’s an interesting concept. But wouldn’t it mess up the natural order of things?”

“Ah, but that’s the dilemma, isn’t it? The temptation to change things and the consequences of altering the course of history. It’s a narrative goldmine!”

While Yume was grinning mischievously, I arched an eyebrow in surprise, trying to keep up with Yume’s sudden change of topic.

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“Wait, are we talking about a movie or a time machine?”

Yume paused for a moment as if thinking of the right words to say. Then she looked at me with a mischievous grin.

“We’re going to watch a sci-fi horr—”

“No.” I interrupted with a firm denial, not willing to entertain the idea of a sci-fi horror movie.

“Okay, okay, how about ‘The Dilemma in District Nine’? It’s not as thrilling, but it’s a good watch. Trust me.”

She came up with an actual suggestion so quickly that it made me think she expected my response.

“‘The Dilemma in District Nine’? Sounds like a sci-fi flick about alien bureaucracy. I’m in. What’s it about?”

Yume eagerly launched into an animated description, detailing the plot and characters and even spoiling a few crucial moments. She’s always like that

After the movie, we just talked. We had a few conversations about memorable experiences and our challenges in life…

…However, during one of our conversations, the mood shifted as we delved into a more serious topic: my agateophobia.

As I opened up about my fears, Yume’s empathy and understanding went beyond solely acknowledging them. She listened intently, offered words of support and encouragement, and even shared her own experiences with anxiety. Her compassion and genuine concern for my well-being made me feel understood and supported.

***

Lost in thought, I continue walking down the path when suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear a rustling in the bushes next to me, causing me to stop dead in my tracks.

What was that? I swear I saw something move.

I look around but see nothing unusual.

I pick up my pace, my heart beats faster, and sweat drips down my face.

But no matter how fast I run, I can’t shake off the feeling of being watched. Each shadow seems to be mocking me, daring me to keep running. I can see shadows moving in the reflection of the puddles.

It’s almost as if someone is following me, and their eyes are fixed on my every move. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I start to feel increasingly uneasy.

I try to shake off the feeling, telling myself that it’s just my imagination playing tricks on me.

But suddenly, I trip and lose my footing over a crack in the pavement. The fall was sudden and unexpected, and I hit the ground hard with a loud thud. My ankle throbs with pain, but I ignore it as I try to regain my balance.

That’s when I noticed something even more alarming. The shadows around me seem to be getting closer, their faces twisting and morphing into one another.

I get up and start sprinting as fast as I can. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can feel the sweat trickling down my face.

Gasping for breath, I sprint towards my apartment. The shadows, now transformed into bizarre humanoid forms with ever-changing faces, fuel my paranoia.

I eventually reach the outside of my apartment building. My hands are shaking as I fumble with my keys, trying to unlock the door.

Finally, I manage to unlock the door and stumble into the dimness of the cluttered apartment. I slam the door shut and lean against it, trying to catch my breath.

The lights are off, and the apartment’s heavy air makes me uneasy. I knew my parents would already be asleep, and in their blissful ignorance, they most likely assumed I would be staying over at Yume’s.

They never give a second thought to my whereabouts or well-being.

I head straight to my room, the threadbare carpet muffling my footsteps.

The room is a chaotic mess, with clothes, books, and other belongings strewn haphazardly about. I can barely make out the outlines of my furniture in the dim glare, but I don’t bother turning on the overhead light.

Instead, I switch on the small lamp beside my bed, casting a soft, yellow glow across the room.

Despite the disorderly state of my room, I collapse onto my bed, grateful for the tiny shred of comfort it provides. My body aches from the fall I took earlier, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the uneasiness that lingers from the events of the night.

I try to dismiss the feeling as mere paranoia, but I can’t shake the sense that something isn’t quite right.

The events of the night replay in my mind, and I try to dismiss them as mere figments of my imagination.

I glance over at the clock beside my bed and see that it’s already 00:45. The night has a way of distorting time, and I’m surprised at how late it is.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates in my pocket, making me jump.

I still have my phone with me…

I retrieve it from my pocket and see a message from Yume.

Mom's still roasting me over the stove mishap. Debating whether peace pancakes can salvage my dignity.

<7:24>

Your Mom loves pancakes though she only loves mine. You being able to cook is as believable as pigs flying to Mars.

<7:25 - Read>

Probably why your cooking tastes like ash.

<7:25 - Read>

Easy there, Nobu. If I remember correctly you're no culinary prodigy either.

<7:25 - Read>

Touché

<7:25 -Read>

What? Did hell just freeze over? Hikari-chan admitting to not being a culinary wizard

<7:26 - Read>

[Sun, Oct 6]

Guess who pulled a genius move and left their bag at my place? Spoiler alert: It's you

<00:45 - Read>

I'll be your saviour and bring it to school today because clearly you can't be trusted with your own stuff

<00:45 - Read>

I remember that tomorrow is Monday, and a sense of dread washes over me.

With a deep sigh, I set my phone down in the drawer of my nightstand and allowed myself to relax. I close my eyes and try to push the unsettling thoughts from my mind. The silence of the room is only interrupted by the sound of my steady breathing as I drift off into a deep, dreamless slumber…

***

I slowly regain consciousness and realise that I’m in an unfamiliar and dark room. My heart starts to race as I try to figure out where I am. The darkness is so thick that I can barely see anything.

The air feels heavy and dense, and the silence is deafening. I try to blink away the sleep from my eyes, but the darkness remains.

I find myself lying on a cold, hard surface, with no pillows or blankets to comfort me. The only source of light seeps through a slightly open, rusty metal door. As I sit up, the room reveals its emptiness, with shadows dancing along the edges. No furniture, no window—just the dim glow from the door.

I try to remember how I ended up here, but my memory is fuzzy. I don’t recognise the room or the location. I start to feel a sense of panic and fear, wondering what’s going on.

This isn’t my room… Where’s my bed? Did someone kidnap me? Is this a nightmare?

I slowly get up on my feet and stumble towards the door. I reach out and grab the handle, feeling its ragged, grimy metal in my hand. Then, with a deep breath, I push the door open.

As it reveals what lies beyond, a chill runs down my spine as I realise that I’m not alone…

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