A Haunting Presence

A young man lay on his bed with dark circles under his eyes, watching the raindrops cascade down the window, his hypersensitive ears instantly attuned to the soothing patter.

"Ah! This damn rain," he muttered to himself

The sound seemed to wash away the remnants of his dreams, leaving him feeling both refreshed and unsettled. His senses tingled, as the droplets painted intricate patterns on the glass, blurring the line between reality and imagination.

As he slowly emerged from the depths of slumber, Nox's heightened awareness intensified, bringing forth a surge of sensations. The scent of wet earth permeated the air, mingling with the soft, distant hum of the city awakening beneath the storm-laden sky. The coolness of the rain-soaked breeze seeped through the slightly ajar window, caressing his skin in delicate whispers.

With a deep breath, he pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His room, adorned with shelves of books and scattered clothing, was a sanctuary that sheltered him from the overwhelming stimuli of the outside world. Yet, even in this familiar space, the haunting presence of the Calling lingered, its invisible tendrils threatening to penetrate his mind.

As he rose, Nox's reflection caught his eye in the mirror. His pale complexion and vibrant green eyes betrayed the weight of his hypersensitivity—a gift or curse, depending on the circumstances.

Nox rummaged through his drawers, searching for a pair of noise-canceling headphones. He found them tucked away beneath a pile of clothes and quickly put them on, hoping that they would provide the relief he desperately sought.

As he activated the noise-canceling feature, a sense of anticipation washed over him.

With the headphones securely in place, Nox closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He waited, hoping to be enveloped in blissful silence. But to his dismay, even with the noise-canceling technology, the sound of whispers still stayed in his mind.

At eighteen years old, he had long since grown accustomed to the enigma of his heightened senses. They both shielded him from dangers others couldn't perceive and exposed him to a world that often overwhelmed him.

Nox sighed as he stared into nothingness.

***

Over the past two decades, Earth has experienced a significant shift in its climate patterns, leading to increasingly erratic weather. What was once considered abnormal weather events had become the new norm, disrupting the lives of people across the globe.

Initially, it started with sporadic occurrences such as unseasonal heatwaves during winter or unexpected rainstorms in the midst of summer. These anomalies caught people off guard and left them in a constant state of uncertainty. As a result, citizens began to carry umbrellas with them at all times, wary of the unpredictable changes in weather.

However, as the years passed, the situation worsened. Natural disasters, which were once considered rare occurrences, became more frequent and devastating. Hurricanes, which used to strike coastlines every hundred years or so, now battered the shores with alarming regularity. What was once a rare event began happening every few years, and eventually, every few months.

Tornadoes tore through communities, leaving destruction in their wake. Hailstorms pummeled cities, damaging property and endangering lives. Massive lightning strikes became more common, posing an increased risk of fires. But perhaps the most enduring and relentless element was the rain.

Months and months of endless rain became a recurring theme. Heavy downpours drenched the Earth, flooding streets and homes, disrupting daily life and infrastructure. The constant deluge made it difficult for communities to recover and rebuild, as they were caught in a seemingly never-ending cycle of wetness and water damage.

Scientists and experts struggled to fully understand the causes behind this rapid shift in climate patterns. The prevailing theories pointed to human-induced climate change as a major factor, exacerbated by the cumulative effects of unsustainable practices and greenhouse gas emissions.

As the world grappled with the consequences of this erratic weather, communities had to adapt and develop strategies to mitigate the impact. Disaster preparedness and resilience became vital, as did efforts to address the root causes of climate change and work towards sustainable practices.

People's lives were profoundly affected by the changing climate. The constant uncertainty, fear, and destruction wrought by these extreme weather events had reshaped the way society functioned.

Adapting to the new normal became a necessity, as communities worked together to find innovative solutions and support one another in the face of the Earth's evolving climate challenges.

Just as people began to adapt to these disasters, a strange disease spread.

Imagine you wake up hearing strange whispers and then a couple days later you start seeing visions, strange hallucinations.

Sometimes you understand what is real and other times you don't. You might see a person here or there but… are they really there? There is just no way of telling.

Your mind starts to fall apart and next the things you knew you didnt really remember. Your memory feels blurry but the parts that you forgot about, you didn't really forget. Your memory just mends together and you forget that you knew those things at all.

In the end your mind collapses and you fall into a coma. In this ethereal slumber, your consciousness will get transported to a realm unknown—a world that existed beyond the boundaries of human comprehension.

There, you would undergo a trial. And once you wake up your body feels stronger. Your senses felt faster, but the thing that made you stand out against ordinary humans magical abilities you woke up with.

However if you died your body contorted into a corrupted creature known as a daemon.

Dressed in comfortable attire, Nox navigated his way through the dimly lit hallway of his small apartment, the creaking floorboards resonating beneath his steps. He leaned against the wall, anticipating a hallucination here or there.

In the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed tea wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of damp leaves. Nox's mother, a compassionate woman with soft eyes and a gentle smile, stood by the window, sipping her own cup of steaming liquid warmth.

"Morning, Nox," she greeted, her voice a comforting lullaby.

"Did the rain disturb your sleep?"

He nodded, reaching for a mug and pouring himself a generous helping of sugar-free tea. As he took a sip, the bitter taste mingled with the sweetness of his mother's concern.

"Any plans for today?" she asked, her eyes filled with both curiosity and a mother's protective instinct.

Nox's grip tightened, contemplating his response.

His mother's presence, though comforting, had become an achingly bittersweet reminder.

In truth, Mom passed away in an unfortunate accident when he was just 7 years old, while his dad wasnt in the picture. She left him with a generous sum of money and a small apartment in the suburbs of philadelphia.

Tired of seeing the twisted visions that haunted him—his mother's specter among them—Nox's frustration surged like a tempest. In a moment of raw anguish, he slammed the mug against the kitchen countertop, a desperate attempt to shatter the illusions that tormented him.

The mug instead shattered, sending fragments of flying glass across the floor.

Pain radiated through his hand as blood dripped on the counter, a brief respite from the relentless chaos in his mind.

Nox's eyes, clouded with tears and resolve, glanced at the mirror on the wall. His reflection, distorted by the echoes of the Calling, stared back at him.

'Enough, just disappear already!'

The room fell silent, save for the sound of shattered glass crunching beneath Nox's feet. His hand throbbed with pain, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within him.

In that moment, a peculiar stillness settled upon the kitchen. Nox's reflection seemed to waver, its distorted features mirroring the turmoil in his mind. He felt a strange sense of detachment, as if he were caught between two worlds—the one he knew and the one that whispered in his ear, urging him to surrender.

A gust of wind rattled the windowpane, as if Nature itself mourned his anguish. Nox closed his eyes, trying to shut out the persistent echoes of the Calling. His mother's voice, gentle and warm, seemed to reach out to him from the depths of his memory, urging him to find strength.

Taking a deep breath, Nox slowly opened his eyes and focused on the shattered mug and his bleeding hand. With deliberate movements, he bent down and began picking up the broken pieces, carefully disposing of them in the trash.

The pain in his hand reminded him of his own fragility and the consequences of his actions. He couldn't allow himself to be consumed by the darkness that haunted him. He had to find a way to live with his affliction and forge a path forward.

With a trembling hand, Nox reached for a clean towel and pressed it against his bleeding palm, applying pressure to stop the flow. The physical pain, though intense, offered a brief respite from the torment in his mind.

Turning away from the mirror, Nox glanced at his mother's picture on the wall.

He looked at her, but he couldn't quite remember her voice… her smile.

The disease had started showing signs just three weeks prior.

From the moment the Calling infected his mind, Nox began to experience a cascade of sensations that defied the boundaries of reality. Whispers and fragmented visions invaded his thoughts, drawing him into a world of hallucinations where truth and illusion intertwined. Each passing day, the grip of the Calling grew stronger, its hold on his sanity tightening like a noose.

'I dont think I have much time left.'

Nox tried his best to stay awake savoring every moment of being alive. Thankfully his hypersensitivty gave him some resistance to the calling, afterall he was about to die.

While others succumbed to the seductive lull of the comatose state in about a week or so, he remained awake, his consciousness teetering on the precipice of the Calling's all-encompassing darkness.

Despite his continued wakefulness, he could feel his body weakening, his strength sapped by the relentless assault on his mind.

Scratching his head, Nox took out his old Samsung phone and dialed a number.

A few minutes later, Nox was surrounded by several policemen loading him up into an ambulance.

The officer sat beside Nox in the back of the ambulance, concern etched across his face. He glanced at the young man, contemplating his next question carefully.

"Nox, can you try to remember when you first started experiencing these symptoms?" the officer asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Nox's brow furrowed as he struggled to gather his thoughts. The constant whispers and hallucinations had blurred his sense of time, making it difficult to recall specific details.

"I... I think it started about three weeks ago," Nox murmured, his words slurred and disjointed. ."

"Alright son, you did well to hold on for so long… now just wait for a bit longer"

Nox's attention wavered, his mind drifting in and out of focus. He was vaguely aware of the officer's words, but they seemed distant, as if they were coming from another world. His eyelids felt heavy, and a weariness settled deep within his bones.

The officer noticed Nox's faltering state and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him engaged.

"Nox, listen to me. You need to survive. Find the daemon and kill… it shouldn't be that hard it's usualy a Drank so dont worry about it too much. There should be weapons nearby. Once you finish it you will wake up again."

Nox blinked slowly, his eyes struggling to stay open. The weight of exhaustion pressed upon him, threatening to pull him into the abyss of unconsciousness. His voice, barely a whisper, conveyed his fading awareness.

"I... I don't think I can hold on," Nox murmured, his words slurred and barely audible.

The officer's expression shifted to one of alarm, a mix of urgency and empathy. He leaned closer to Nox, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.

"Son, you have to stay awake. We dont have an awakened to monitor your body right now," the officer implored, his words carrying a sense of desperation.

"Fight it, Nox. Don't let go."

Nox's eyes fluttered, his consciousness slipping further away. His body felt heavy, as if gravity itself was pulling him into the depths of sleep. The officer's voice grew fainter, distant, as if it were fading into the background.

As Nox drifted into the realm of unconsciousness, the officer's voice remained as a faint echo, his words carrying a mixture of hope and resignation.

"Just hold on. We'll get you transported to the bunker any minute now."

The ambulance raced through the city streets, its siren wailing, as Nox's world dissolved into darkness.

Nox's eyelids grew heavy, succumbing to the irresistible pull of sleep. His mind, tormented by the relentless onslaught of hallucinations and whispers, sought solace in the embrace of unconsciousness.

As the ambulance sped through the city, Nox's consciousness slipped away, his senses dulled, and his awareness faded. The rhythmic hum of the vehicle, accompanied by the distant wail of the sirens, became mere background noise.

His body lay still, cocooned in the sterile environment of the ambulance, while his mind embarked on a journey of its own. The visions that had plagued him merged with the dreams that unfolded before him, blurring the boundaries between reality and imagination.

Visions flickered like ethereal flames, dancing before his eyes.

Then everything went dark.