It had been a typical, almost agonizing, day. When his alarm clock sounded at 6:30 a.m., 16-year-old Ethan Harper, who had a tendency to overthink things and unruly brown hair, had woken up. He let out a moan, hit the snooze button, and hauled himself out of bed thereafter. Brushing his teeth, assisting his mother Claire with breakfast preparation (which mainly involved him burning the toast), and hurrying to catch the school bus comprised the morning routine as usual.

As usual, school was a mix of commotion and dullness. During lunch, he was entertained by his best pals Jake and Mia’s never-ending arguments on whether pineapple should be on pizza. Ethan came home from school, completed his homework (while surreptitiously browsing through memes), and then, worn out by the routine, went to bed at eleven p.m.

But then something took place.

At precisely 12:34 in the morning, Ethan’s eyes opened. A bluish, unsettling light filtered through the drapes and filled his chamber. His heart thumping, he got up and looked at his bedside table’s digital clock. The digits seemed to be fighting for their lives as they flickered strangely.

Before he could comprehend the situation, a dazzling burst of light burst outside his window. It was strong, overwhelming, and accompanied by a low, resonant hum that made his teeth hurt, much like a flashbang. Ethan threw his arms across his face out of instinct, but the light’s force knocked him off his bed. Everything turned black as his head struck the floor.

The sun was shining through Ethan’s window when he woke up. With a grunt and a pounding headache, he sat up gradually. The room appeared typical; his school bag was still where he had left it the previous evening, his desk was overflowing with textbooks, and his posters of antique vehicles and space exploration were still on the walls.

But something didn’t feel right.

It was too quiet in the house.

“Mom?” Ethan’s voice cracked as he called out. No answer. He expected to find Claire looking through her phone and enjoying her morning coffee when he got up and went to the kitchen. The kitchen, however, was deserted. The toast he had burned the morning before was still on the counter, unopened, and the coffee kettle was cold.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Mom?” He called again, more loudly. Nothing has changed.

As Ethan went outside, his uneasiness increased. There was no one on the street. There were no vehicles, no people, and only the slight sound of leaves rustling in the wind. There was no sign of even Mrs. Henderson’s giddy little dog, who would typically bark at anything that moved.

“Hello?” Ethan yelled, his voice resonating down the deserted street. Nobody responded.

His sneakers crunched on the gravel as he made his way a few blocks to Jake’s house. Ethan gingerly pulled open the ajar front door. Jake? Are you at home?

The house was deserted. As though someone had just gotten out of it, Jake’s gaming chair was still whirling a little. The TV was on, playing static, and there was a half-eaten bag of chips on the coffee table.

Ethan felt a knot in his stomach. Where had everyone gone?

The same thing happened when he ran to Mia’s residence next. There was nobody. Her phone was on the kitchen counter, its screen shattered but still showing the previous night’s notifications, and her backpack was near the door.

Ethan was panting and breathing heavily by the time he got back to his own home. Reaching for his phone, he attempted to call his mother, Jake, Mia, or anybody else. However, the calls were unsuccessful. There was only one menacing word displayed on the screen: EMERGENCY.

With his thoughts racing, Ethan sagged into the couch. Last night, what had happened? Had they all disappeared? Why had he remained here?

He was sitting there trying to figure out what was going on when he spotted something odd. The lack of life was what caused the silence, not merely the absence of people. No insects buzzing, no birds tweeting, and no distant traffic hum. It seemed as though only the shell of the globe remained after it had been emptied out.

And then Ethan heard it, just as he was starting to panic. A slight metallic clinking sound, similar to the sound of chains dragging on concrete. It came from the outside.

Breath seizing in his throat, Ethan froze. The sound got closer and louder. His heart thumping, he slipped to the window and looked out.

A figure stood at the end of the street. It was tall, with a hood covering its face and a dark, frayed robe covering it. It had a long, ragged chain in its hand that gleamed in the sunlight. As though sensing Ethan’s presence, the figure paused and gently turned its head in the direction of the house.

Ethan’s hands shaking, he ducked beneath the glass. That was who or what? What was it seeking?