Is This The End?

As I finally entered the capital city, more buildings appeared, their silhouettes standing tall against the night sky. My house was only a few kilometers away now, but despite the glowing city lights, the streets remained eerily deserted. Not a single person in sight—not even the usual night guards. The shops were all shut down, which made sense given the late hour, but the emptiness unsettled me.

I shook the feeling off and focused on one thing—getting home. My mind was already overloaded with everything I'd seen tonight—things that were both unexplainable and impossible.

Either I needed a long sleep, or I needed a doctor first thing in the morning.

Then, a buried memory resurfaced—one that had been lost in the chaos of the night. It started as a faint recollection, blurry at first, but gradually becoming clearer.

Didn't I get into a fight with Philip before all this?

The image of my so-called older brother came rushing back—his hands grabbing me, his harsh words cutting through the air, his shouts echoing in my ears. And there they were—Monica and Melissa—just standing there, watching. Neither of them tried to stop it. Not that I expected them to.

The reason for the fight? Something completely irrelevant. That was always how it was. He didn't need a reason to start something—he just wanted to.

Then, I remembered Melissa's face—her smile.

She was enjoying it.

I stopped in my tracks. My breathing slowed.

Their words, their treatment—it was nothing new. I was used to it. It didn't bother me. Not really.

What did bother me, though, was that—

I couldn't go back.

Another fragment of memory surfaced. I had been kicked out. I was on my way to Sugar's place, but after that… everything blurred again.

And then, like a parasite, the thoughts took hold of me. They spread rapidly, consuming my mind. My focus drifted away from the present, away from the night, away from the road ahead. Instead, it latched onto those bitter moments from yesterday.

The sky above me stretched endlessly, scattered with glimmering stars, but my gaze remained fixed downward, staring at the cold, unfeeling concrete beneath my feet.

Then, a voice.

A faint whisper.

I ignored it.

Come here.

I blinked, my head lifting slightly.

The voice—was it right next to me? No. It was vague, distant, like a breath against my ear. But when I looked around, there was nothing.

"Come here," it repeated, clearer this time.

I stopped walking and scanned my surroundings. Still no one. The streets remained empty, the silence pressing in on me.

Maybe seeing things wasn't enough. Now I was hearing things too.

I let out a dry, exhausted chuckle. It wasn't amusement—it was tired resignation.

Still, I kept walking.

"Come here," the voice insisted. I ignored it.

Come here. Come here. Come here.

The words layered over one another, overlapping, each time sounding slightly different. As if multiple people were calling me at once.

I froze.

"Come here."

The voice came again, but this time, it wasn't just a whisper in my head. It felt real. Tangible. Like it was truly calling me.

Slowly, I turned my head to the left.

A narrow alley.

There were no streetlights in the alleyway, making it pitch black compared to the main road. At a glance, it looked like any other space left between two buildings—nothing unusual. Trash bins lined one side, likely for the apartment complex on the right. The building on the left, however, was different. Older. Abandoned.

Then, my eyes caught something.

A small rectangular piece of paper stuck to the wall of the abandoned building.

The design was strange—an "X" drawn inside a circle, forming what looked like a face. But the expression wasn't neutral. It looked angry. Hostile.

The paper was small—easy to miss. It was pure coincidence that I even noticed it.

It didn't resemble any brand logo or street sign I recognized. There were no words, no explanations. Just that eerie, glaring face.

I should really get going.

Too much had happened tonight. I felt off. My body felt off. I just needed to reach Sugar's place, sleep, and forget about all this.

That thought lasted all of five seconds.

"Come here."

The voice again.

This time, there was no mistaking it—it was coming from the alley. But with how dark it was, I couldn't see anything beyond the entrance.

I should ignore it.

I should leave.

But for some reason—

My feet started moving.

My body was tense. My mind screamed at me to turn away, to ignore it.

But my feet didn't listen.

Step by step, I walked toward the alleyway.

Just moments ago, I hadn't cared. I was exhausted, mentally drained. I had no interest in finding out who—or what—was calling me.

And yet…

I ignored my own hesitation.

And I stepped into the darkness.

As soon as I stepped into the alley, an odd sensation crawled over my body. It was as if I had walked through an invisible barrier—thick, sticky, almost tangible. My skin prickled at the strange feeling, but I didn't stop.

With each step forward, the darkness grew, swallowing me whole. The only source of light remained behind me, casting a faint glow on the pavement but failing to reach any deeper into the alleyway. The further I went, the harder it became to see.

And yet, I kept moving.

Something about the voice had hooked me. It wasn't just curiosity—it was something deeper, something unnatural. The voice compelled me forward, like a whisper directly into my brain, urging me to obey. It felt as if my thoughts weren't entirely my own anymore.

Like I was being brainwashed.

"Come here," the voice called again, echoing through the suffocating darkness. It sounded close—right in front of me. But there was nothing ahead except a solid concrete wall.

I frowned.

Why do I feel like I can walk through it?

The thought crept into my mind uninvited. The idea should have been absurd—the wall was thick, unmovable—but for some reason, I truly believed I could pass through it. That if I just stepped forward, I would find whoever, or whatever, was calling me.

I raised a hand toward the wall, fingers trembling slightly as they neared the cold surface—

A noise.

Faint but distinct.

The sound of something being dragged across the ground.

The trance shattered instantly.

My body tensed as my head instinctively turned toward the noise—

But I never got the chance to see what it was.

Something, about the same height as me, slammed into my right side with brutal force.

The impact sent me flying.

I collided hard against the wall to my left, pain erupting through my body like wildfire.

"Kuek—!" A strangled cry tore from my throat as bones shattered under the force, sharp pain flooding every nerve. My body crumpled, crashing onto the cold ground, face-first.

Everything blurred.

My limbs refused to move. My breaths came in uneven, ragged gasps. My thoughts were empty—there was no room for anything but the overwhelming agony consuming me.

Through the haze of my failing vision, something entered my line of sight.

A dark, greenish, scaly cone-shaped tip.

It was massive—about the size of my head. The texture of its scales shimmered under the dim light, almost resembling the lower body of a snake.

Am I going to die?

The thought repeated itself, over and over, like a broken record.

Then—something wrapped around my legs.

My body lurched as I was lifted off the ground, dangling limply like a fish caught by its tail. My arms hung uselessly, swaying with the motion.

My eyes, though blurred, managed to make out a massive arm gripping me. It was the same size as my entire body, lifting me effortlessly into the air.

My mind struggled to process what I was seeing.

At first, I saw a thick, serpentine body—dark green, covered in massive scales. It was enormous, at least three or four times the width of an anaconda. But as I was lifted higher, the shape changed.

The serpent-like body disappeared.

From the waist up, it had a humanoid form—though it was anything but human.

A towering, headless figure.

Its skin was pure darkness, void-like, its massive frame outlined only by the dim city lights behind it. And where a head should have been, there was nothing—only a thick, smoky substance, rising and flickering like dark flames.

What… what even is this thing?

The thought barely formed before the creature swung me like a ragdoll.

Then—

It threw me.

My body crashed into the trash bins near the entrance of the alley, but I barely felt it. The pain had reached its peak and vanished, leaving only numbness. My body was shutting down. My senses dulled. My vision darkened.

And yet, through the dim blur, I could still see it—

The creature, slithering forward, dragging itself toward me.

This is it.

Death is the end of everything.

Like closing your eyes at night, only to wake up and find morning has come—except, when you die, there is no morning. Time doesn't stop. It simply stops for you. Your existence disappears.

And somehow, you always know when the end is near.

For me, this was it.

My father once told me—"Near the end, your brain plays a slideshow of your happiest moments."

Maybe he was right. Because suddenly, recent memories—the good ones—started flooding my mind.

I let them wash over me, sinking into the fleeting warmth they offered.

I closed my eyes.

The cold, hard concrete beneath me no longer felt like solid ground. It felt like liquid—like I was floating.

The memories stopped.

Darkness swallowed everything.

But something felt… off.

If I was dead, my brain should only stay active for a moment before shutting down completely. Yet, the slideshow had ended, and I was still thinking.

I wasn't gone.

I was still here.

Then, the sensation returned—the same feeling of sinking, as if I were being pulled underwater. Deeper and deeper, until—

I stopped.

Suddenly, warmth.

My body, which had been completely numb moments ago, slowly started to regain sensation. A faint pressure returned to my limbs.

Then—

My ears picked up distant noises.

A voice.

"Doctor!"

Someone called out—female, familiar.

"Doctor, I think he's waking up!"

The voice came again—this time filled with anxiety. And relief.