John

"J...!"

"Jo...!"

"JOHN!"

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

"WOAH!"

"Huff, huff, huff... Where am I?"

"Dammit, John! You scared me half to death!"

"W-Who are you?"

"Who am I? Quit being strange and let's get back home. The weather is taking a turn for the worse. A storm might be coming."

'What's happening? This... it's so familiar. But...' John's thoughts raced as he struggled to piece together the fragments of his consciousness. The voices and faces around him seemed like distant echoes from a memory he couldn't quite grasp.

He blinked, his surroundings slowly coming into focus. The landscape was painted in muted hues, a tranquil scene that contrasted with the unease churning within him. Trees swayed gently in the breeze, and the distant sound of waves crashing against a shore reached his ears.

As he tried to stand, a surge of dizziness overcame him, causing him to sway unsteadily. A hand reached out to steady him, and he turned to face the source. It was a figure, familiar yet distant, their features shifting like shadows in his mind.

"John, are you alright?" the figure asked, concern lacing their voice.

John's brows furrowed as he struggled to find his voice. "I... I'm not sure. Everything is hazy."

The figure's gaze held a mixture of relief and worry. "You took quite a fall back there. I thought I lost you."

John's memories began to clear, the haze lifting like mist dissolving in the sun. The voices, the faces – they were of his parents. The realization settled within him, like pieces of a puzzle slotting into place.

"Dad?"

"Take your time, John. Breathe and gather yourself."

"Dad, I had the most incredible dream. It was a world filled with magic and monsters. I even learned how to use magic, and I fought against terrifying creatures."

"Ah, the imagination of youth knows no bounds," his father chuckled.

"We should head back before the storm arrives," his mother advised.

"Agreed," John's dad nodded. "Let's not waste any more time."

Together, they retraced their steps, the landscape shifting. John's heart beat a rapid rhythm, a symphony of familiarity and recognition weaving through his senses. The sensation of déjà vu was undeniable, like a long-forgotten tune resurfacing from the depths of memory.

Upon returning to their familiar abode, a mixture of emotions washed over John. The home he knew so well held a bittersweet weight, an unspoken sensation. An unexpected pang of heartache mingled with a sense of unease, like a puzzle with missing pieces that refused to fit.

'What's happening to me? Why is my heart racing so wildly? I can't remember... the more I try grasp the reason, the further it slips away. It hurts.'

"John, help me close the windows. The rain is starting to pour, and I don't want the water getting inside our home."

"On it," John replied, his mind still mulling over the fragments of memories that had stirred within him. With a distracted yet obedient demeanor, he moved toward the windows, his gaze momentarily drawn to the raindrops trickling down the glass pane.

As he reached for the latch, the pattering of rain intensified, the sound growing into a gentle rhythm that matched the beats of his unsettled heart. He closed the window, the coldness of the glass under his touch grounding him in the present moment.

Outside, the storm was gradually gaining strength, the wind picking up and causing the trees to sway. Dark clouds loomed overhead.

Returning to the center of the room, John's parents exchanged concerned glances. His father's voice held a soothing undertone as he said, "It looks like the storm is settling in. We might be in for a long night."

His mother nodded in agreement, her eyes darting toward John before returning to the window. "Yes, it's best to hunker down and stay safe inside. These storms can be unpredictable."

"I'll go prepare some hot tea," his mother said, her footsteps fading as she moved toward the kitchen.

John's father turned to him, a mix of curiosity and empathy in his gaze. "You seem lost in thought, son. Is everything alright?"

John hesitated, his fingers tracing patterns on the table's surface. "It's just... something about being here feels strange. I don't know..."

His father's expression softened. " You must be tired, you did end up slipping near the shore and hit your head. A good night rest should fix everything."

John's mind wrestled with his conflicting emotions. The storm outside raged on, the rain now a torrential downpour that matched the turmoil inside. His gaze drifted to the window, the raindrops streaking down the glass like tears.

'Why does this place tug at my memories so fiercely? There's something beneath the surface, something I can't quite grasp. But maybe... maybe the answers lie within these walls, within the storm itself.'

His mother returned with a tray of steaming tea cups, the aroma mingling with the atmosphere of uncertainty that hung in the air. She placed the tray on the table, casting a gentle smile in his direction. "Tea might help soothe your nerves, dear."

"Thank you," John murmured, his fingers curling around the warm cup as he tried to anchor himself in the present moment.

Minutes passed and the wind howled outside fiercely. The room seemed to vibrate with energy.

And then, in an instant, an unfamiliar alarm pierced through the sounds of rain and wind, cutting through the tension like a knife. The sound reverberated through the room, causing John to jolt in his seat. His parents exchanged worried glances, their faces pale as the urgency of the alarm became apparent.

"What... what's that?" John's voice quivered, his heart pounding as he searched their faces for answers.

His father's expression turned grim as he rose from his seat. "It's an emergency warning system. We need to take cover immediately."

"But... what's happening?" John's panic mirrored the chaos outside.

His mother's voice trembled as she tried to maintain composure. "It's a massive storm, John. A tornado is heading our way."

The storm that had seemed like a mere backdrop had transformed into an imminent threat.

Frantic energy filled the room as John's family moved with urgency, securing windows and grabbing essentials. The storm outside had escalated beyond comprehension, the wind roaring like a beast unleashed from its chains. Rain lashed against the windows, blurring the world into a frenzy of motion and chaos.

Amidst the turmoil, the government's warning alarm continued to blare, a constant reminder of the impending doom. The atmosphere was suffocating, a suffusion of fear and adrenaline that left John's heart racing.

As he looked out the window, his mind whirled with a realization. The storm outside, the echoes of memories within – they were interconnected, pieces of a puzzle that had come together to form a dire warning.

The very ground beneath him quivered, and the world seemed to convulse as if in the grip of an otherworldly force.

Then, with a force that defied comprehension, the roof above him was torn apart as if by the hands of some colossal giant. Splintering wood, debris, and shards of roofing material flew in all directions, carried by the fury of the tornado's ferocious winds.

"JOHN!"

"FATHER!"

"JOHN!"

"MOTHER!"

Echoes of his parents screaming his name filled his ears, their voices a symphony of desperation that reverberated through his consciousness. The chaotic scene before him was a chaotic whirl of darkness, debris, and a maelstrom of emotions.

JOHN! WAKE UP!" x2

"NOOOO!!!!"

And then, in the blink of an eye, Ethan's eyes snapped open. He found himself no longer within the confines of his childhood home, nor was he enveloped by the raging tempest of the dream. Instead, reality painted a starkly contrasting picture – he lay on a damp puddle of water, the remnants of a passing rain shower.

"John! Thank goodness you're finally awake."

"Man, you had us worried sick!"

His heart continued to race, his breath coming in ragged bursts. It took a fleeting moment for him to process the familiar surroundings, to comprehend that he had returned to the realm of the waking world. As he shifted his gaze upward, the concerned faces of both Seraphine and Sven came into focus, their expressions a mixture of relief and apprehension as they leaned over him, ensuring his well-being.