Rick slept restlessly.
Sweat ran down his forehead, soaking the pillow. His body shifted from one side of the bed to the other, sheets twisting around his legs. His breathing came out uneven.
In the dream, he was somewhere strange.
There was no ground, no sky. Only a thick mist that moved like a living thing, coiling around his ankles.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
Rick couldn't make out its face. The features were always out of focus, blurred, as if reality itself refused to define them. When the voice came, however, there was no ambiguity. It was male.
"I can get you out of here, Rick. I just need you to do me a favor. Or rather... two small tasks."
Rick tried to step back. His legs wouldn't obey.
"Who are you?"
The figure didn't answer. It merely moved a hand through the air.
The void dissolved like smoke in the wind.
Suddenly, Rick was standing on the sidewalk in front of his old house.
The trimmed lawn. The car in the garage. The crooked mailbox he had always promised to fix.
"Don't you want to go home?" the voice whispered, now dangerously close to his ear.
Rick swallowed hard.
His mind drifted to the life he had before getting trapped in that endless nightmare. It wasn't perfect, far from it. But he had freedom. He could get in his car and drive wherever he wanted.
Here, the night creatures weren't even the worst part.
It was the suffocating routine. The feeling that the days repeated until the mind began to rot, searching for conflict where none existed.
"Don't you want revenge on your wife?"
The word was the trigger. The image of the sidewalk melted away. Suddenly, he was inside the house. It was the day he tried to erase with alcohol and denial.
He had left work early, expecting to find her downstairs. Not finding her there, he went upstairs. Then he heard it — that damned rhythmic sound coming from his own bedroom.
The dream-version of Rick's hand trembled as it turned the doorknob. The door opened.
And there she was. In their bed. Having sex with another man.
Rick, watching himself, tried to close his eyes. He wanted to scream, to turn away, but couldn't. Paralyzed, he was forced to relive the worst failure of his life.
The rage came back, consuming him. The next thing he remembered — both in real life and now in the dream — was his fingers wrapped around the man's neck.
The guy wasn't moving anymore. Rick kept squeezing and squeezing. When he finally let go and looked around, his wife was gone.
He ran out of the house and saw her at the neighbor's place, screaming hysterically for help. Knowing what he had done — and that he couldn't waste time — he rushed to his car, drove to work, grabbed the physical Bitcoin wallet he kept hidden for emergencies, and fled.
The plan was to reach his Mexican friends and ask for help leaving the country. Instead, the only thing waiting for him on the road was the fallen tree.
"Look at you... being humiliated all over again," the comment came in an almost amused tone.
The scene shifted.
Dale speaking too loudly in front of everyone. "That aggression is why your wife left you, isn't it?"
Rick's face burned with shame and fury.
He bitterly regretted the day he had drunkenly vented to the wrong person.
Another image.
Daniel throwing the hammer. The pain exploding through his arm. Rick on the ground, groaning.
"Look how pathetic you are," the entity continued. "Don't you want revenge on everyone who did this to you?"
Rage bubbled in Rick's chest. Of course he wanted revenge. He wanted them all to pay.
But as Daniel's image lingered in his mind — that cold look, empty of emotion, staring at him as if he were nothing more than a problem to be solved — the anger began to cool, replaced by fear. That young man wasn't normal.
The man in the mist let out an irritated grunt when he noticed the hesitation. He waved his hand impatiently. Instantly, the fear Rick felt toward Daniel evaporated, leaving only a hot, pulsing hatred.
"What... what do you want me to do?" Rick asked, his voice faltering.
The mist rippled around the figure.
"First, I want you to take the boy. Ethan." The man snapped his fingers, and a perfect image of the smiling child appeared in the air. "Bring him to the forest. Beyond the stone with the symbols."
The image of the boy vanished, replaced by Daniel's.
"Then, kill Daniel. If you complete these two tasks, I'll let you return to the outside world. I might even grant you an additional gift. Just like I healed your arm."
Rick instinctively looked at his arm. It was perfect.
The offer was tempting. Freedom. Power.
Even if he couldn't go back home, he could still leave the country.
And yet, a thin, worn moral line still existed somewhere inside him.
"I... I don't mind killing that arrogant punk," Rick said, swallowing hard. "He broke my arm."
"But a child... I can't. I won't hurt the boy."
The figure didn't respond. It simply snapped its fingers.
A tall black chair materialized out of nowhere. The entity sat down, crossing its legs casually.
And then the nightmare truly began.
Thick, oily black smoke started seeping from the man's body, crawling across the ground toward Rick. When it touched his feet, the cold returned.
Rick began freezing from the bottom up. The pain was unimaginable. He felt blood vessels bursting, muscles crystallizing and cracking.
Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, he knew he was asleep. That his body was lying on a bed.
But the pain was far too real.
The ice climbed up his chest, reaching his throat.
"Alright! Alright!" Rick finally choked out, the agony shattering any resistance. "I'll do it! I'll do what you want!"
I just have to take the boy. That doesn't mean I have to hurt him.
The black smoke instantly retracted, sucked back into the entity's body. The excruciating pain vanished, leaving Rick gasping in relief.
The man stood and walked toward him, extending a pale hand.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Rick."
Hesitant, trembling, Rick raised his hand and shook it. The touch was cold, like marble in winter.
The moment their palms met, an intense burning sensation erupted on his wrist.
He yanked his hand back with a muffled cry and looked down. His skin smoked. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils.
Black lines appeared beneath the surface, carving through the flesh like poisoned veins.
When it stopped, a trident was etched into his skin.
Rick opened his mouth to ask what it was, but before he could form the words, he was expelled from his own dream.
In the void that remained, the man did not leave. He continued watching the rest of the memory Rick always cut away.
The memory unedited by denial.
When Rick attacks the man in the bed, the woman doesn't vanish. She backs into the corner of the room, screaming desperately. "What are you doing, Rick?! Stop!"
Rick, hands around the man's throat, turns a manic face toward her. "You cheating bitch!"
"We've been separated for a year, Rick!" she screams, crying. "Let him go!"
Rick doesn't answer. His gaze returns to the man, his grip never loosening.
She realizes talking is useless and runs to get help.
"Pathetic," the cold voice commented, echoing in the void.
---
Daniel arrived at Colony House and parked the motorhome in its usual spot.
He stepped out carrying the two bags with ease and climbed the porch steps.
He found Julie in the main room, helping Fatima fold some old blankets.
"Julie," he called, setting the bags down with a soft thud. "Delivery service. Your parents sent your stuff."
She stopped what she was doing, her eyes moving from the bags to Daniel's face. There was a mix of relief and sadness in her expression. It was the physical confirmation that the fight had been real and that the move was final.
She walked over to the luggage, her fingers brushing against the rough fabric. "Thank you, Daniel."
"No problem. I was heading back anyway," he said casually. "You know, there's space in the motorhome closet if you want to keep most of it there. It's easier than sharing a wardrobe with twenty people."
Julie looked up, surprised.
A small smile appeared.
"I'll take it."
They left the house and stepped into the vehicle. The interior was clean and organized.
Daniel opened the side closet.
"You can use everything from here down."
While Julie began organizing her things — folding shirts, lining up bottles, stacking books — Daniel walked to the small living area and turned on the television. A hip-hop playlist filled the space with heavy bass beats.
He dropped onto the couch and opened the status panel mentally. Without hesitation, he distributed the points — one into Strength, the rest into Intelligence.
The change was immediate.
His muscles responded with a faint warmth.
But it was his mind that truly shifted.
As if someone had wiped clean a dirty window inside his head.
Sounds became sharper.
Details, clearer.
Everything he saw or heard would now be permanently recorded. He now had photographic memory.
Status: Alive [For Now]
Life Level: 1 – Peak Human
Strength: 12 → 13
Endurance: 15 (MAX)
Intelligence: 13 → 15 (MAX)
Speed: 15 (MAX)
Daniel closed his eyes for a long moment, feeling the difference.
"Daniel?"
Julie's voice pulled him back.
She was holding a small bag with two changes of clothes and basic hygiene items she would use inside the house.
"One question," she said, looking around. "I didn't see any solar panels on the roof. And you're using the TV and the air conditioner. How come the battery isn't draining?"
Julie knew this type of vehicle usually required special charging outlets, and she doubted there were any like that here.
Daniel crossed his arms behind his head.
"It has an energy absorption system built into the chassis. It absorbs solar energy more efficiently."
Julie frowned but accepted the explanation. Since she knew nothing about automotive engineering, and the world was already strange enough, it didn't seem impossible.
Someone knocked on the metal door.
Daniel stood and opened it.
Fatima was there, smiling.
"Hey. Donna's calling you guys. The welcome party's happening today."
"Party?" He raised an eyebrow.
"It's tradition. We were going to do it last night, but since you chose to sleep in there, she moved it to now."
The three of them walked back to the house.
Donna saw Daniel and Julie entering and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.
"Alright, people! Gather up! Grab your drinks!"
Drinks began circulating.
When everyone had gathered, Donna raised her cup.
"As tradition demands, a toast to the newest members of the family. Daniel and Julie."
The residents shouted in unison, raising their cups.
Donna pulled Julie into a bear hug, then did the same to Daniel, slapping his back hard.
Right behind her, Ellis appeared with an arm around Fatima's waist. He extended a plastic cup toward Daniel.
"Officially welcome."
Daniel looked at the questionable liquid, then at Ellis.
"Appreciate it, but I'll pass. I don't drink alcohol."
Everyone stared, genuinely surprised. With his classic indifferent bad-boy look, they had expected Daniel to be the first one to down an entire bottle.
"You smoke weed but don't drink?" Julie asked, trying to understand him better.
He shrugged. "Alcohol slows reflexes, clouds the mind, and leads me to make stupid decisions. Weed, on the other hand, just relaxes me, and the only side effect is getting the munchies afterward."
"To each their own," Ellis agreed.
Before the conversation could continue, a presence approached.
Trudy.
The girl who had hit on Daniel when he first came to see Colony House emerged from the crowd, as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment.
She stopped dangerously close to him, a predatory smile on her lips.
"Now we'll finally get to know each other better." Trudy tilted her head toward Julie. "And don't worry, I don't mind sharing him."
Julie, who had been drinking juice, nearly choked and felt her face heat up when she realized several people nearby had stopped talking to watch the afternoon soap opera scene unfold.
"Sharing?" she murmured, embarrassed.
Trudy's smile widened, ignoring Julie's discomfort. "You two aren't together, right? Even better." She leaned in, her voice taking on a seductive tone that would have been comical if she weren't completely serious. "That means I can ride you without worrying."
A few residents laughed quietly, already used to Trudy's blunt, filterless approaches.
"There she goes again," Fatima sighed, crossing her arms, making it clear that this was the girl's standard modus operandi.
Looking at Trudy, Daniel could tell she wasn't a bad person. Maybe the promiscuity was just her defense mechanism against the constant terror of the town. But she wasn't his type.
"I appreciate the offer," Daniel said in an indifferent tone. "But I'll pass. I'm very selective when it comes to relationships."
She didn't back down. "Oh, come on. Everyone needs to relax a little—"
Before she could finish, Julie stepped between them, cutting off Trudy's line of sight to Daniel.
"He said he's not interested."
Some of the residents began whistling and laughing, enjoying the sudden drama.
"That's it, newbie! Protect your man! Mark your territory!" someone shouted from the back of the hallway, causing a wave of laughter in the room.
Julie's face turned bright red, but she didn't step back. She kept her shoulders tense and her chin raised, staring directly at Trudy.
To keep the situation from escalating into an argument, Donna stepped between them like a bulldozer, using her broad frame to create space.
"That's enough. Trudy, leave the boy alone."
Trudy pouted exaggeratedly but stepped away, casting one last assessing look at Daniel before disappearing back into the crowd.
He adjusted his jacket, leaned closer to Julie, and teased her.
"My hero."
"I was just... helping you," she lied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You looked kind of... like you didn't know what to do with her all over you."
Daniel found her poorly constructed lie amusing. Didn't know what to do? He had calculated seven different ways to dismiss Trudy, three of them involving public humiliation. But Julie's jealous intervention had been, by far, the most interesting outcome.
Still, he didn't call her out, letting her keep the flimsy excuse. Changing the subject before she could grow even more embarrassed, the two of them started talking while the party continued around them.
The conversation drifted randomly to the outside world, what it had been like where they used to live. Then it shifted to TV shows and movies.
Within minutes, Daniel realized Julie was a nerd disguised as a rebellious teenager.
She spoke enthusiastically about poorly written scripts, underused characters, disastrous finales.
And she, in turn, was equally impressed by how much he knew about the subject.
Julie's eyes sparkled with excitement, and her shyness faded completely the longer they talked.
Daniel also noticed, with a hint of surprise, that he was genuinely enjoying himself.
It had been a long time since he'd had such a fluid, effortless conversation about this kind of thing. Most of his friends were surfers and climbers. They had no patience for discussing character development, and often didn't even watch TV shows.
Because of that, that geeky side of him was usually reserved for online friends in discussion forums.
But here, in the middle of purgatory, leaning against the wall of a house full of strangers, he had found someone with tastes similar to his own.
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