1 The Dream

In a dark, gloomy forest, the sound of footsteps reverberated through the dense undergrowth. Twigs snapped and rustled under the weight of a young boy who sprinted frantically, pursued by an enigmatic figure. His heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of his rapid breaths.

"Help! Help!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation. Each plea seemed to dissipate into the eerie silence of the forest, unanswered. The figure drew nearer, closing in on the boy's fleeing form. In his panic, the boy's foot became ensnared in a tangle of thick vines, causing him to stumble and collapse onto the damp forest floor. Fear gripped him, and he instinctively began to crawl backward, the dampness seeping through his trembling fingers.

Amidst the chaos, his voice continued to reverberate through the trees. "Mommy, I can't! Please help me!" he pleaded, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. The air grew thick with anticipation as the forest responded with an otherworldly whisper.

"But you can run," a haunting voice echoed through the misty veil of the forest, carried by an unseen force.

As the figure chasing the boy materialized from the shadows, a single, ominous red eye pierced the darkness, emanating an unsettling glow. Its low growl resonated in the boy's ears, sending shivers down his spine. "Grrh! Grrh!" it snarled, revealing its menacing presence.

Simultaneously, the form of the enigmatic voice began to manifest. Surprised, the boy managed to whisper, "Mommy?" His voice trembled, awash with a mixture of hope and disbelief.

Straining his vocal cords, he mustered the strength to shout once more, his voice a desperate plea, "Mommy!"

With his vision gradually fading, the boy's ears caught a distant sound cutting through the turmoil. "John! John! Wake up, John."

Startled, John jolted upright in his bed, his body drenched in cold sweat. The room was shrouded in darkness, except for the faint glow of a nightlight. "It was just a dream," a soothing voice reassured him, cutting through the remnants of his nightmare.

"Huff, huff," John gasped for air, trying to steady his racing heart. "Thank you, Grandma," he managed to say between ragged breaths. "I thought I was going to die."

Grandma's comforting hand rested on his shoulder, providing a sense of solace. "John, I understand the fear that grips your heart, but you must stay strong—for me, your granddad, and maybe your future girlfriend."

Chuckling softly, John responded, "Stop teasing me, Grandma."

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Grandma's lips. "Now, go and take a soothing bath, my dear. Freshen up, for you wouldn't want to be late on your first day of college, would you?" Her playful tone echoed with a sense of anticipation.

John mustered a sluggish nod. "Alright, Grandma," he muttered, his body still heavy with the remnants of his unsettling dream. Turning to his grandpa, he asked, "Why are you just standing there, Grandpa?"

Grandpa's eyes seemed to hold a hint of sorrow as he replied, "Nothing, son. Just lost in my thoughts."

With a bittersweet smile, Grandma gently urged John, "Go now, my dear. The day awaits."

As John made his way to the bathroom, the warm water cascading over his tired body, his mind wandered back to the dream that had shaken him to his core. The images of his parents' faces, their voices echoing faintly in his memory. He couldn't shake off the lingering emotions that the dream had stirred within him. He leaned against the shower wall, allowing the water to soothe his troubled mind as tears mingled with the droplets.

Eventually, John emerged from the bathroom, his body refreshed but his thoughts still consumed by the remnants of his unsettling dream. He dressed in his new college attire, his hands trembling slightly as he buttoned up his shirt. With each garment he put on, he whispered determinedly to himself, "I'm going to make you proud, Mom and Dad."

Outside, the morning sun cast its golden rays upon the world, hinting at the possibilities and challenges that awaited him. The familiar sound of a bell, reminiscent of a train's melodic chime, reached his ears. "Geez, what sort of school uses a bell like that? Well, I guess this is where I'll be going anyway," John grumbled to himself, attempting to ease his nerves with a touch of humor.

He made his way towards the imposing student assembly building, where a gathering of freshmen was being briefed by the vice chancellor himself. Nervous excitement pulsed through the air as the students listened intently, absorbing every word that emanated from the distinguished figure at the podium.

However, on his way to class, John's mischievous friend, Jackson, emerged from behind a corner, startling him with a sudden "boo!"

"Jeez, you scared the hell out of me, Jackson!" John exclaimed, his heart pounding from the surprise.

Jackson grinned mischievously, finding amusement in his friend's reaction. "I've done that every school year, but you always fall for it. You're too easy, buddy."

A playful glint flickered in John's eyes as he retorted, "Maybe you should bury me instead, you sh*thead. Then I won't fall for it anymore."

Jackson chuckled, unfazed by the taunt. "Call me that again, and you'll get buried alive!" John threatened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the two friends continued their banter, they strolled together towards their designated class, their camaraderie providing a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of emotions that had plagued John since the morning.

As the day progressed, John and Eleen, another student from their class, were unexpectedly summoned to the vice chancellor's office. They exchanged curious glances, silently wondering about the reason behind their summons. With trepidation and curiosity intermingling within them, they entered the office, finding the vice chancellor, Mr. Maxwell, seated behind his imposing desk, his expression grave.

"Please, have a seat," Mr. Maxwell gestured, his eyes fixed with a penetrating intensity that revealed neither happiness nor sadness.

Caught off guard, John momentarily stood frozen, captivated by Mr. Maxwell's commanding presence and the distinguished bald cut that accentuated his features. It took a moment for him to snap out of his daze, realizing that his name had been called.

"John! John!" Eleen's soft voice gently nudged him back to the present moment.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Maxwell," John apologized, finally taking his seat, his eyes still lingering on the vice chancellor.

Mr. Maxwell, his gaze unwavering, began speaking in measured tones. "I've noticed that you've had fluctuating test scores since middle school, yet we accepted you here based on your remarkable record in track sports. However, I sense that there might be underlying struggles that you've kept hidden. If it's okay with you, I can arrange for a therapist to provide support."

Fury welled up within John, a stubborn resistance to the notion of needing help. "I'm okay, sir!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with frustration. "I don't need a therapist. I can handle things on my own."

Mr. Maxwell's expression softened, his eyes conveying understanding. "Very well, John. If you ever change your mind, know that the option is available. We are here to support you."

John nodded, a mixture of relief and anger coursing through his veins. He appreciated Mr. Maxwell's offer, even if he wasn't quite ready to accept it. The vice chancellor's genuine concern enraged him but he bottled it up like an overfull gas tank.

Turning his attention to Eleen, Mr. Maxwell continued, "And Miss Eleen, I need you to not skip school at now that you are at college. Your record of skipping school is the highest so far and i need you to find a way to cut what's been holding you back. "

Eleen's eyes revealed a sense of lack of interest and obedient nature, "ok. Will do sir"

Mr. Maxwell nodded, his expression filled with believe that his word has been heard.

"I have no doubt that you will, Miss Eleen. Now, you may both go and continue with your day. Remember, we are here to support you in any way we can."

As John and Eleen left the vice chancellor's office, their minds buzzed with a mix of emotions and thoughts. The weight of their encounter lingered in the air, the gravity of their respective responsibilities settling upon their shoulders.

John made gestures meant to mock the VC as he mimicked his sentences while Eleen carried went away with no sense of emotion.

In the classroom, John found himself engaged in a fierce conversation with Jackson, who couldn't resist teasing him about his extended absence from the class.

"Bro, you must have broken something to spend that long in the vice chancellor's office," Jackson joked, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Annoyance flickered across John's face, but he tried to maintain his composure. "No, bro," he replied dismissively. "It was nothing serious. Just some administrative stuff."

Jackson's curiosity got the better of him. "Come on, spill the beans, man! What happened? Was it you and Eleen? You know what I mean," he probed, his voice filled with intrigue.

John sighed, realizing he couldn't evade Jackson's persistent questioning. "Ah, forget it, bro. It's not worth talking about. Just some college formalities."

Jackson sensed his friend's reluctance and decided to drop the subject, changing the course of the conversation. "Well, anyway, how about we grab lunch together? We need to catch up. It feels like forever since we hung out."

A small smile tugged at the corners of John's lips, appreciating Jackson's attempt to shift the focus. "Sounds good, bro. Let's grab a bite. We have plenty to talk about."

As the day gradually unfolded, filled with lectures, interactions, and new experiences, John couldn't shake off the haunting fragments of his dream. The intensity of his emotions remained, seeping into his every thought, reminding him of the challenges he carried within himself.

Later that evening, as John returned home, the weight of his dream and the day's encounters pressed upon him. He stepped into the quiet house, his footsteps echoing in the stillness. Suddenly, a wave of excruciating pain surged through his body, causing him to crumple to the floor, clutching his chest.

"Ugh! Ugh!" John groaned, his voice strained with agony.

"John! John! Someone help! Help!"

Grandma's panicked voice echoed through the house, her footsteps hurriedly approaching John's side. Concern etched deep lines across her face as she knelt beside him, her trembling hands reaching out to touch his quivering form.

But to John's surprise, his grandpa's response was unexpected. "Leave him! Leave him!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a strange mix of resignation and detachment. "At this point, let evolution take place."

Grandma's eyes widened in disbelief, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and concern. "How can you be so wicked, your own grandson?" she yelled, her voice cracking. "Wait, is he among the supernaturals?"

Grandpa's face softened, lines of sadness etched across his weathered features as he replied, his voice heavy with sorrow, "At this point, we have to hope he survives his evolution." A sense of helplessness pervaded his words, and he couldn't bear to meet Grandma's gaze.

Sobbing, Grandma pleaded, her voice trembling, "Please, God, he is my only treasure. Let him survive this."

Those were the last words John heard before darkness enveloped him, his consciousness slipping away into a realm of uncertainty.