Jonas sat slumped on the cold footpath, his body a map of scrapes and torn fabric, mirroring the violence that had just ruptured his life. A sleek, dark sedan glided silently to the curb beside him.
The driver's door opened, and a man stepped out. This was Joy Hong, an individual whose composure and neat attire contrasted sharply with Jonas's disheveled state. Joy was clearly a long-time confidant, judging by the practiced ease of his approach. Jonas slowly pushed himself up, his movements stiff and defeated, and walked toward the waiting car. Joy wisely chose silence, recognizing the dangerous volatility of Jonas's high temper and the immediate necessity of retreat over conversation.
As the car pulled away, a sudden gust of wind caught the crushed letter of termination, lifting the crumpled document from the pavement and swirling it into the gutter, a final, symbolic erasure of Jonas's former life.
Later, the scene shifted to the dim, smoky sanctuary of a bar. Jonas was severely intoxicated, hunched over a sticky wooden counter.
"Fuck... fuck you all," he slurred repeatedly, the words thick and guttural. The anger, fueled by alcohol, curdled into threats. "I will personally kill that principle... I'll make him pay. Ahhhh!"
Joy Hong sat beside him, his expression measured, attempting to apply a balm of reassurance. "It's going to be alright, Jonas. You are exceptionally talented. A man with your qualifications will have a new position soon. Just... stay calm."
Joy produced a small bottle, identical to the one Jonas carried, from his coat pocket. He placed two capsules into Jonas's shaking hand. "Take these. You need to settle down. Allowing this volatility will only be detrimental to your mental condition."
FIVE YEARS AGO
The lighting subtly dimmed, and the acoustics shifted—a sensory cue signaling the flashback, five years prior.
Jonas, looking younger but equally haunted, gripped Joy's arm with frantic desperation. "Joy Hong, I am genuinely seeing things that are not there," Jonas confessed, his voice laced with the terrifying question of his own sanity. "Am I going mad?"
Joy smiled faintly, a small, knowing expression. From his own pocket, he retrieved an identical bottle of the medication. The pills were presented not as a treatment, but almost as a simple, elegant solution.
The bar snaps back into the present.
Jonas looked at the pills in his palm, then at the bottle Joy held out. With a sudden, forceful gesture, he knocked the container from Joy's hand. The bottle clattered to the floor, and the white capsules scattered across the dusty wood.
"They are worthless," Jonas whispered, the last of his resistance draining away. His neck bent sharply, and he folded in on himself, the crushing weight of his failure and terror finally breaking his façade. He began to weep, deep, ragged sobs of utter despair.
Joy wisely opted for a temporary retreat, affording Jonas a brief, private moment. "I'm returning in a minute," he murmured, rising from his stool.
The medication, the alcohol, and the exhaustion soon claimed Jonas. He lapsed into a heavy, turbulent sleep right there at the counter.
When he finally awoke, the bar was eerily silent and empty. He was alone.
A faint, unsettling noise emanated from the shallow darkness beneath the bar counter. Curiosity, or perhaps a dreadful compulsion, overruled his caution. Jonas clambered off the stool and bent down to peer into the shadowy gap.
In the pitch dark, six eyes—glinting, unnatural—began to glow.
Jonas scrambled back, his breath catching in his throat. A massive form slowly began to articulate itself, emerging from the confined space. A gigantic spider, its thick, segmented legs slowly unfolding and creeping out of the black recess.
Jonas used the remaining momentum of his shock to propel himself backward, utilizing his feet and arms to shove his body away from the nightmare. The monstrous arachnid advanced with a chilling deliberation. Jonas's frantic backward motion ended abruptly as he encountered the unyielding brick of the wall. There was no escape; he was fully trapped.
The spider raised its front legs, preparing to strike.
Jonas sat bolt upright, screaming—a raw, guttural sound that tore through the sudden silence of the bar. He realizes it was just a dream.
Joy rushed back immediately, pulling Jonas into a desperate embrace, working instantly to soothe the terror. "It's okay, Jonas. Everything is fine. You're safe."
People in the bar, who had merely been observing from a distance, now stared openly at the hysterical man and his calming friend. Joy continued to embrace and comfort him until the shaking slowly subsided, giving way to profound, silent, defeated crying.