1 You certainly don't see this every day

Dylan's cluttered apartment reverberated with the insistent blare of his alarm, an unwelcome intrusion into the aftermath of a night spent drowning in one too many drinks. A persistent headache blurred the recollection of the prior evening's escapades. Amidst the chaos, a peculiar bite mark on his hand surfaced, resembling a contorted bracelet of teeth impressions.

"Ugh, what in the world...?" Dylan muttered, squinting against the intrusive morning light, scrutinizing the enigmatic bite on his hand.

Curses escaped his lips as a second alarm, emanating from his phone, seamlessly blended with the ongoing disarray. "Not again," he grumbled, cognizant of the impending reprimand from his boss for his habitual tardiness.

The looming dread spurred him into action. Temporarily setting aside the mystery of the bite, he disregarded the persistently ringing phone, yielding to the familiar routine of preparing for another day in the corporate grind.

Dylan wearily entered the office, greeted not by the usual hum of computers but by the stern countenance of his boss. Clayton, a middle-aged figure etched in perpetual dissatisfaction, scowled as he cast a glance Dylan's way.

"You're unusually early today, Weiss," Clayton remarked with a touch of sarcasm, his disapproval palpable. "Have you managed to conclude the assignment I bestowed upon you?" he inquired, his tone allowing minimal leniency.

Dylan confronted Clayton's inquiry with visible hesitation, grappling with the truth he dared not articulate. He had consciously sidestepped the allocated task, a subtle act of rebellion against the encroachment of corporate duties into his weekends. The burden of compiling reports at home had drained him, and Dylan had reached a silent point of resistance.

"Ummm... About that..." Dylan mumbled, his response laden with a hint of evasion. He tiptoed around the admission, struggling to convey the unspoken truth of his deliberate avoidance of the assigned work.

Clayton's frown etched deeper lines across his face as he observed Dylan's stammered response, realizing the employee before him had sidestepped the weekend reports.

An initial impulse to vent frustration on Dylan was curtailed by a second thought. Clayton, cognizant of Dylan's consistent stellar performance in recent months, hesitated. He contemplated the repercussions of exerting excessive pressure, risking the departure of a valuable employee.

Exhaling a sigh tinged with both resignation and a faint hint of annoyance, Clayton reluctantly yielded. "You've got until tomorrow," he stated, his gaze lingering on Dylan for a prolonged moment before he turned away.

As Clayton departed, he was left with a sense of disappointment and a trace of curiosity. The question nagged at his thoughts, unravelling the mystery behind Dylan's unanticipated dip in performance, a conundrum that disrupted the once-unblemished image of Dylan as a reliable asset.

As Clayton retreated, relief washed over Dylan. Grateful for the unexpected leniency, he watched his boss depart with a quiet sigh.

With the immediate threat of reprimand subdued, Dylan settled at his desk, placing his bag down. Eager to dispel any further delay, he delved into the neglected report. Two hours into the task, a movement at the periphery of his vision diverted his attention.

Intrigued, Dylan abandoned his desk and approached the window. Peering closer, he was met with an astonishing sight – a colossal spider perched on the adjacent building's roof. Its immense size, around 2 meters tall, immediately captured his attention. What bewildered him even more was the creature's head, deviating from the conventional spider anatomy. Instead of the expected features, a colossal eyeball, reminiscent of a basketball in size, dominated its peculiar visage.

"What on earth is that?" Dylan exclaimed, his tone reflecting a blend of curiosity and disbelief as he grappled with the surreal sight before him.

The giant spider, seemingly aware of Dylan's gaze, shifted its attention towards him. Its massive eyeball head locked onto Dylan, its gaze piercing through the distance. Startled, Dylan found himself on the receiving end of the creature's unnerving stare.

"What the heck! It's staring at me!?" Dylan exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of shock and disbelief.

His outburst attracted puzzled glances from nearby coworkers, who remained oblivious to the bizarre creature. Their curious looks added to Dylan's sense of bewilderment. He pointed towards the creature in an attempt to alert his coworkers. "Guys, seriously, look over there! There's a massive spider on that building!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

However, his gesture was met with a burst of laughter, and he found himself dismissed as a victim of stress-induced hallucinations.

"Come on, Dylan, stress must be really getting to you," one coworker chuckled dismissively.

Undeterred, Dylan attempted to salvage the situation. "No, seriously, I saw it! A giant spider with this massive eyeball head!" he insisted, but his plea was met with more laughter.

Realizing that his coworkers couldn't perceive the colossal creature, a wave of perplexity washed over Dylan. "Alright, fine, fine. Just trying to lighten the mood, you know?" he remarked with a forced laugh, attempting to conceal his unease. Internally, he grappled with the revelation that he alone witnessed the massive spider.

In his mind, doubts crept in. *Am I imagining things? Maybe stress is playing tricks on me.* Yet, the feeling of being watched lingered, refusing to dissipate.

Dylan hoped his attempt to brush it off had convinced his coworkers, but their eyerolls and skeptical glances told a different story. The unease simmered beneath the surface as he reluctantly returned to his desk, questioning the reality of what he had just experienced.

Dylan found a quiet spot outside the office building to enjoy his lunch. As he unwrapped his sandwich, his gaze inevitably fell on the peculiar bite mark on his hand. The twisted imprints seemed to tell a story of their own, one that eluded Dylan's understanding.

While engrossed in his contemplation, a disheveled beggar approached him, clad in tattered clothes and emanating an air of desperation. The beggar's eyes locked onto Dylan's, and he began to speak with a sense of urgency.

"There's not enough time," the beggar said seriously. His eyes bore into Dylan's, and then he glanced pointedly at the mark on Dylan's hand. "Chosen by unseen forces, the mark on your hand is a symbol of their selection."

Intrigued and somewhat skeptical, Dylan regarded the beggar with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Despite the peculiar encounter, he was compelled to learn more.

"Tell me about these unseen forces," Dylan urged, genuinely interested in unraveling the mystery behind the beggar's cryptic words.

The beggar, however, did not delve into details. Instead, he looked into Dylan's eyes with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. "Disasters will unfold, and you will face trials beyond your understanding. Beware, for the threads of fate weave a complex tapestry, and you are entwined in its design."

With those words, the beggar shuffled away, disappearing into the bustling street. Deep in thought, Dylan resumed his lunch, the beggar's ominous words lingering in his mind.

Unaware of the colossal creature still perched on the adjacent building, its massive eyeball fixated on him, Dylan finished his lunch. The feeling of being watched persisted, though Dylan remained oblivious to the silent observer.

Dylan continued working diligently on the report, focused on completing the first half of the task. The hum of computers and the muffled sounds of office activity surrounded him as he navigated through the intricacies of the data.

Deciding to take a brief break, he reclined in his office chair, staring pensively at the ceiling. The office, usually a hive of activity, now seemed strangely silent as Dylan contemplated the events of the day.

As he rested, the eerie sensation of being watched crept over him once more. Instinctively, his gaze shifted towards the window. To his disbelief, the colossal spider was there again, its massive eyeball fixated on him. The arachnid's presence sent shivers down Dylan's spine.

"I really need to lay off the booze," Dylan thought, attributing the bizarre sight to the lingering effects of his earlier indulgence. Convinced he was hallucinating, he shook his head, attempting to dispel the illusion.

Despite his attempts to rationalize the situation, the unnerving feeling persisted. Trying to distract himself, Dylan returned to his work, burying himself in the remaining tasks of the report. The click-clack of the keyboard served as a mundane melody, attempting to drown out the surreal image of the colossal spider staring at him from the window.

Dylan wrapped up a late night at the office, walking through the mostly empty streets illuminated only by dim street lamps. The area, filled with offices, was sparsely populated at this late hour. Despite being tired, the unnerving feeling of being watched returned, yet Dylan dismissed it as mere exhaustion.

Arriving at the subway, Dylan found it mostly empty, save for a few beggars sleeping at the sides. He settled on a bench, waiting for the train and glancing at a peculiar ad on the wall adjacent to the tracks. The ad featured a strangely professional magician named Jackson Taylor, claiming to be an "expert in the weird and supernatural." Dylan found himself oddly mesmerized by the advertisement.

Minutes passed, and the train showed no sign of arriving. Impatience crept in, and the late hour made the station unusually eerie. A sound from the stairs caught Dylan's attention, resembling the irregular clacking of high heels. It grew closer, each step echoing an eerie irregularity.

Dylan's unease heightened as he witnessed something unimaginable: a giant spider emerging from around the corner. Its chitinous body stood two and a half meters tall, covered in a black, armor-like carapace. The creature's colossal eyeball fixated on Dylan, filling him with dread.

Frozen in fear, Dylan watched as the spider approached. The ground seemed to tremble beneath its slow advance. As the creature drew near, Dylan felt paralyzed, his impending doom palpable.

Before the spider reached him, Dylan broke free from his paralysis, running parallel to the tracks. The train's approaching sound offered a glimmer of hope. He stopped, facing the creature just as the train rushed by, offering no respite.

The spider closed in, its eyeball head tearing open to reveal a menacing array of teeth in its maw. Dylan, on the brink of despair, found himself interrupted by a masculine voice.

"Well, what do we have here? A stalker and a non-wielder who can see a stalker? You certainly don't see this every day." the man said with a laid-back tone, smiling at the bizarre duo.