Life had never been easy for Jack. From the moment he took his first breath, hardship shadowed his steps. When he was just six years old, he nearly died of leukaemia. His childhood was spent mostly in sterile hospital rooms, hooked up to machines and surrounded by the faint hum of beeping monitors. Watching his young body fight for survival was a nightmare that etched itself into his memory.
His parents, exhausted and stretched thin, looked more and more haggard as days turned into months. The relentless strain of work and worry drained their strength; their faces carved with lines of sleepless nights. Jack's older sister, seeing her family's suffering, made the heart-breaking decision to drop out of university just to keep his medical bills paid and to care for him. Her sacrifice weighed heavily on Jack, her absence, her quiet tears, and the guilt that gnawed at him every time he saw her fatigue.
Against all odds, a miracle happened. The cancer went into remission. Jack survived. But returning home was another challenge altogether. The house he once longed for had changed, becoming a cramped apartment, filled with the memories of a childhood interrupted by illness. Walking again was a slow, painful process, filled with frustration and tears, but it was also a lesson in resilience. That experience made Jack realize what truly mattered: perseverance, hope, and the desire to give back.
Determined to do better, Jack started working early. At age 14, he found a part-time job helping people with their IT issues, small but meaningful work that kept him busy and gave him a sense of purpose. By 18, he had saved enough money to help his family, chipping away at the debts and easing some of their burdens. Slowly, he began to feel that his presence, his effort, was making a difference. For the first time, he could breathe without guilt, knowing he wasn't just surviving, he was helping others survive, too.
When he wasn't working or studying, Jack found solace in stories, whether through books or immersive VR games. These worlds allowed him to live someone else's life, to escape the pain, and to dream beyond his limitations. Over time, his passion for gaming grew into a calling. By 22, Jack had become an avid gamer and an aspiring game designer, inspired by the endless worlds he explored and the stories he longed to tell.
He noticed a disturbing pattern in the gaming industry: most companies were recycling the same ideas, tweaking them just enough to give the illusion of innovation. The market was stagnating, and the soul of gaming was fading. Recognizing this, the government launched a competition last weekend, an open call for original, ground-breaking game ideas. The prize? A chance to win state-of-the-art development equipment, a new house, or a hefty cash reward. The contest would run for six months, and Jack knew that winning was a long shot, but dreams often remained just that.
But deep inside, he believed that trying was what mattered. Even if he didn't win, perhaps he could land a job at a reputable studio, use this chance to make a difference, and finally give his family the future they deserved. He spent days reviewing the latest trends, analysing successful titles, and brainstorming ideas that could shake the industry out of its complacency.
Yet, despite his hope and determination, Jack's mind was haunted by a quiet voice, an ominous whisper that grew louder with each passing day. He pushed himself harder, driven by the desire to succeed, but beneath that drive, a strange sensation stirred, a dark, unfamiliar presence lurking just beyond consciousness.
And then, one night, as Jack sat before his computer, pouring over game concepts, that presence finally claimed him. As Jack's vision blurred and his thoughts fragmented, a cold, insidious presence seeped into his mind, wrapping around his consciousness like a shroud. His fingers trembled on the keyboard, but his body no longer felt like his own. A whispering voice echoed inside his head, deep, ancient, and laced with dread.
What is this? Jack thought, panic rising. Who... what's happening?
But there was no escape. The voice grew louder, more commanding, unravelling his thoughts like a spider weaving its web.
This is... this is just another game, the voice hissed. A plaything for mortals. But I see your hope, your fear. And I will use it.
His mind was flooded with memories, his pain, his victories, his failures. The long nights in the hospital, the sacrifices of his sister, the weight of guilt he carried every day. He remembered the dreams he held close dreams of a better life, of helping his family, of creating worlds that could inspire others.
No, he thought desperately. I won't let this be the end. I won't let fear control me.
But the darkness pressed harder, seeping into every corner of his mind, twisting his hopes and fears into shadows. His last conscious thoughts flickered like dying candles.
I've fought so hard to survive... he thought. I've worked my whole life to make a difference. I wanted to be more than just a survivor, I wanted to create. To help my family. To live a life worth fighting for.
The voice chuckled, a chilling sound that echoed inside his skull.
Your dreams are fragile. Your hope is a weakness. I will take it all, your fears, your struggles, your very soul.
His breathing grew ragged, yet somehow, amid the chaos, a small voice within him refused to surrender. A flicker of the boy who once believed in hope, in change, in the impossible.
This isn't the end, Jack thought, clutching onto that fragile fragment. Even if I'm gone... maybe someone else can carry it forward.
But the darkness was relentless. His thoughts dissolved, replaced by a void. His identity, his purpose, everything was swallowed in shadow.
I am already gone, he realized with a faint, bitter smile. And in this darkness, I am not myself anymore.
As the last remnants of his consciousness faded into the abyss, Deimos, the god of Horror, smiled, a nightmare reborn from the hopes of a boy who dared to dream.
End of Ch 2: Body of the Mortal Vessel