Coldest Hour

Like a ritual, Miss Larson syncs her breathing to the ticking of the clock everytime she goes to sleep. She doesn't know when or how this habit started but ever since she did, she no longer dreamt anything in her sleep.

After a long day of work and finally graduating from the 'newbie' status after 2 years on the job, Miss Larson can say she's done well so far. She has hopes for a nicer future, maybe a child or two and a loving spouse. Or maybe an internationally celebrated musician!

Miss Larson loves entertaining the various possibilities and dreams in her head, time goes faster and her tasks at hand goes smoother. While all these thoughts flicker around her head, Miss Larson has already showered and changed into her home clothes and is in the middle of sorting her laundry. Miss Larson recalled the little moments of the day, like when her boss managed to forget his papers on the bus and absolutely lost his motivation to live. Or when she successfully made eye contact with the neighborhood cat, she remembers the fuzzy delight she felt and hoped she can approach the cat tomorrow as well.

Comfortably in bed, Miss Larson mentally prepared herself for the night, one would think she's going to war everytime she sleeps by the look of determination in her eyes. With a deep breath she starts. Inhale, tick. Exhale, tock.

Meanwhile, somewhere in an empty apartment a ginger cat was sniffing the air for any threats. Surrounded by specks of dust flickering under the moonlight, the cat too synced its breathing to the ticking of the clock.

Miss Larson's chest gently rose and fell as she breathed while deep asleep, still syncing her breath to the ticking of the clock. Deep into the night Miss Larson felt an unusual cold wetness seeping through her bedding, hovering between sleep and consciousness she tried to make sense of what she's feeling. A thousand thoughts and ideas ran through her mind but Miss Larson was not able to grasp and analyze a single one. She felt the wetness reach her neck and gradually her entire head. Miss Larson snaps open her eyes after realizing the panic rising in her chest and tried to collect her thoughts about her situation. A voice calls out to her by her name, no one calls her by her name anymore. She and others around had always referred to her as "Miss Larson" and when a voice that she's unable to recognize calling her by her given name she felt a deep sense of fear.

"Turn around, nothing to fret about"

spoken like a true creep. You'll frighten her fool.

Miss Larson didn't want to turn around, she wanted to bolt right then and there, but where to? There's practically nowhere to run to, everything looks like the open sky. Miss Larson momentarily thought that she perhaps died in her sleep-

You're not dead dear, we would like to explain it to you but it seems like calming you down first should be prioritized.

"Is it absolutely necessary for us to go through this tedious chore of calming the nerves of a human child? Look at her, she'll start running any second and won't even listen to a word. I say we push her right into it."

Miss Larson trying to focus on her surroundings while trying to make sense of the commotion around her. The gentle second voice that felt very distant and ancient seemed to emit an atmosphere that resembles the feeling pink noise produce. Slowly gathering the strength to her legs, Miss Larson gradually shifted her body towards the voices she heard.

You dolt! I still cannot believe you've come this far with so little sense in handling a human, you have to be the most-

"Oh look, guess who finally decided to grace us with her presence."

Miss Larson bewildered by the sight before her, it's the neighborhood ginger cat! Talking to thin air! Ha. Miss Larson was internally bursting in delight, the ginger cat she's always loved ever since moving into her new place is talking.

I see that you've already met him in this current form of his, rather appealing if I do say so myself.

A disembodied voice rippled around them, Miss Larson assumes that it was the whole place talking.

You're partly correct, I have no physical body since I reside within the minds of my hosts.

Miss Larson was surprised to understand that the disembodied voice can read her mind, she takes another look at the neighborhood ginger cat and return he gave an empathetic look, as if to say that he too was shocked the first time he realized that there are beings that can actually read minds.

"Well. Now that we're acquainted shall we proceed with telling her about this"

Miss Larson couldn't have agreed more and nodded her head furiously.

Very well. Ahem. We are beings that can move through realms and manifest ourselves in various realms by acquiring a body that we call a host. Most of us choose species with low intelligence, so that we would have better control over the body. However some of us prefer a much more fulfilling experience and choose a human such as yourself as hosts. However, we reside in the deepest recess of your subconscious mind so as to not interfere with your daily life. My friend, here chose an interesting cat for his host in this realm, while I chose you.

At this point Miss Larson remembered her little ritual and couldn't possibly understand why was she dreaming. Beings from other realms that pointlessly live through you?

giving it a little more thought, she finally decided to wake up, when the neighborhood ginger cat realized that she's about to leave he said, "I understand you have a hard time believing us, but try to sync your breathing to the ticking of the clock same day next year, we will be waiting"

as Miss Larson disappeared, she headed the disembodied muffled voice mention the dangers of entering the subconious mind too many time..

End.