Changing

Max appeared to be sleeping well based on his smooth breathing, but the slightly disturbed expression on his face stated otherwise.

He was clearly dreaming, but what was he dreaming about?

********

Max found himself standing in front of a towering and imposing creature, whose body was a conglomeration of different animal parts. It had the wings of a bird, the paws of a lion, and the tail of a serpent. The creature's eyes glinted with an otherworldly intelligence, as if it was assessing Max's worthiness to be in its presence.

The most peculiar aspect of this creature was that, despite having many different animal body parts, its head was that of a human.

As Max looked up at the creature, he felt a sense of unease wash over him. The air around him seemed heavy and oppressive, as if some great weight was pressing down on him. Despite this, Max felt a strange compulsion to approach the creature, as if drawn in by some invisible force.

As he drew nearer, Max began to feel a strange sense of familiarity with the creature. It was as if he had encountered it before, in some distant and half-remembered past. The creature regarded him impassively, and Max felt a sudden surge of fear and awe.

In that moment, Max felt as if he was standing before a being of immense power and ancient wisdom. He knew that he was in the presence of something far greater than himself, something that could destroy him or elevate him to unimaginable heights.

However, Max had a very strange feeling—one of some sort of connection—between himself and this creature.

If nothing else, Max found it strange.

Really strange.

*********

"Ah!!!!" As Max woke up from his dream, he was left with a lingering sense of mystery and wonder.

The room was already lit by the sun rays that escaped the curtains, but Max's attention was elsewhere as he carefully brought the pendant on his neck close to his face as he swallowed his spit, a little fear in his heart.

But Max's fear quickly turned to confusion when he noticed that the pendant on his neck had remained the same for as long as he could remember, but.....

"Was that a dream as well?" Max muttered, scratching his head in befuddlement as his already rough hair became even rougher.

Max was totally and utterly confused at this point. For one thing, he felt like the incident with his necklace was too real to be a dream because he could still remember everything that happened as if he were there.

Then there was the strange creature he dreamed about, which had to be a dream since a creature like that could never exist and be real.

At least, that's what Max assumed.

What confused Max was that both events were too strange to be true, so he eventually attributed them to dreams that he somehow managed to actually experience.

What was the name of it again? Yes, lucid dreams.

At the very least, nothing appeared to be wrong with his body.

Max turned to look around him as he considered this, rubbing his neck to ensure that there was really nothing wrong with it.

For one thing, it was clearly still morning because the light entering the son that came from the sun didn't appear to be very bright, but it didn't appear to be far from afternoon.

There were multiple alcohol bottles scattered around the center table in the living room, which was normal given that he had indeed drank a lot the night before, and in his condition, it was even a miracle that the alcohol bottles were concentrated around the center table rather than scattered throughout the living room.

The only odd thing he would say was that he appeared to have slept on the floor rather than in his room or on the couch.

'At least it appears that something did happen last night,' Max sighed, wondering what he must have done last night to cause him to sleep on the floor.

Max failed to notice, however, that despite having consumed a large amount of alcohol the night before, he was still able to move freely and did not have a hangover.

This wasn't even the strangest thing that had escaped Max's notice.

Max stood up to clean the living room after spending some time on the floor, strangely energised than he had ever been in his life.

Without giving it much thought, Max attributed this to finally being able to get a good night's sleep without having to get up early in the morning to prepare for work.

He dared to drink on a work day in the first place because he knew he wouldn't have to worry about missing work.

Max bent down to take the first bottle that was littered on the floor, but as soon as he gripped the bottle in his hands, it shattered into pieces.

"Damn!"

Max cursed the unexpected turn of events as he quickly turned to check his hands for injury and blood cut, but strangely, there was not a single scratch on Max's hand, in addition to feeling no pain.

Max finally turned to look at the broken pieces of glass on the floor, thinking that he was extremely fortunate to have escaped unscathed.

"Did the glass become brittle from being in the fridge for so long?" Max muttered as he hissed at the extra cleaning work he would have to do after this, and he went to pick up another bottle from the ground, but just like before, the bottle shattered into pieces as soon as Max gripped it.

After repeating the process of first determining if he had been injured and discovering that he was once again able to escape unscathed, Max turned to look at the additional pieces of broken glass on the ground scattered about with a strange expression on his face.

As Max became aware that something strange was taking place, he started to feel uneasy. Given that he hadn't exerted much force on the bottles in his hands, he was baffled as to why they were breaking so easily in his hands.

Max decided to try out another bottle as he was beginning to have some strange thoughts cross his mind. This time, however, he did it with a little less force and, to his surprise, the bottle remained intact and did not break.

Max breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it wasn't because he had suddenly developed the ability to destroy anything he put his hands on, though it was odd that he was unable to have any difficulty holding the bottle with less grip force when there should have been.

Max was contemplating this and was about to extend his hand to take another bottle when he abruptly stopped and turned to look at the bottle in his hand as an idea began to form in his head.

Although this bottle did not break as easily as the others, it was still strange that the others broke so easily and this one didn't, especially since he could hold it with less grip force. Max considered tightening his grip on the bottle, but as soon as he tried, the bottle in his hand began to have cracks on its body, and before Max could loosen his grip on the bottle, it shattered just like the others.

Max had tightened his grip a little too much, but that was none of his concern right now because he was staring at his uninjured hand with a slightly fearful expression on his face.

********

As Max continued to stare at his hand with a fearful expression on his face, he began to have a series of ridiculous thoughts in his head that, if a normal human being knew about them, they would look at him and call him delusional in the face.

Even Max figured his thoughts in his head were going a little too far, but what had just happened now, and more specifically, three times now, made it extremely difficult for him not to think about the stuff in his head right now.

Max abruptly turned to look at a large piece of broken glass close to him and carefully picked it up from the floor.

Max took a large gulp as he turned to look at the sharp edges of the glass, and ruthlessly used the large piece of broken glass to slash his other hand in an attempt to draw blood from it.

Throughout the process, Max kept his eyes closed to prepare for the pain that was to come, but after a few seconds of no pain, Max slowly turned to look at the hand that was supposed to be injured, only to find broken pieces of glass beneath it instead.

Max's heart sank as he realised that he had once again failed to harm himself. He couldn't understand why he was unable to feel any pain, even when he was deliberately hurting himself. It was as if he was invincible, and the realisation filled him with a sense of unease and dread.

Max knew that something was definitely going on, but he didn't know where to turn. He was afraid of what people would think of him, and he didn't want to be seen as crazy. But he also knew that he couldn't continue like this, living in constant fear and uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, Max made a decision. He needed to do something about this and seek help of some kind or reach out to someone he trusted, someone who would understand and help him through this difficult time.

As these thoughts ran through Max's mind, he resolved once more to self-harm in order to draw blood from his body, but he failed.

While this confirmed that something had changed about him, Max did not want any of these strange changes.

Max took several deep breaths to calm his volatile emotions as he managed to get the remaining three bottles of alcohol out of the living room with the broken glass on the floor without breaking anything.

He nearly broke the kitchen doorknob though.

Max scratched his head in fear and confusion as he prepared to make his way upstairs to his room when his house's doorbell suddenly rang.

Max's heart nearly exploded as a result of his fear, which increased when the doorbell rang unexpectedly.

Taking a quick breath to calm his feelings again, Max spoke.

"Who's there?" Max addressed whoever was on the other side of his door aloud.

"Sir, it's the delivery man!" A male voice said as Max was immediately perplexed because he had no recollection of ordering anything.

In the end, Max decided to attend to him without much thought, assuming that the man outside must have gotten to his house by accident, as he tried his best to calm his emotions, tidy up his rough hair, and appear normal.

"I'm Coming!" Max said to alert the man outside, but as he took his first step towards the door, he heard a voice he never expected to hear again in his life.

{***Don.t go***}

{***Da.nge.r o.utside***}