Blood Moon Hovering in the Sky

Though Ethan didn't understand why Zachary Flynn had asked him to come out, the malice he'd sensed earlier left him uneasy. He decided to follow and investigate.

He wasn't worried about Zachary attacking him—he was confident he could overpower him before any real harm was done. His terrifying vision wasn't just for show.

They exited the private room and entered a secluded alleyway with no surveillance cameras and sparse foot traffic—a perfect spot for shady dealings.

Ethan stared at Zachary's back, silently marveling. Our class president is something. Even I couldn't find a place like this.

"Zachary, what's going on? Why did you say the gathering was… unnatural?" Ethan stopped walking and asked once they reached the spot.

Zachary turned around, his eyes filled with fear, as if he'd seen something horrifying. "Ethan… tell me what happened to you three years ago."

Ethan frowned. "You already know what happened. What's there to explain?"

"No—not that. I mean… what you heard—" Suddenly, Zachary shouted, his face tense and panicked. Ethan had never seen the class president like this. It deepened his confusion. What's wrong with him?

"Back then, I had a sudden, splitting headache and passed out. I was in a coma for a year. When I woke up… the world had changed." Ethan sighed, reluctant to revisit the memories.

"Everything around me—except myself—was distorted. The sky was black, with a blood-red moon hanging in the air, oozing dark mist. Every person or object… they weren't themselves anymore. The people by my bedside turned into grotesque monsters. Their hands became tentacles crawling over me. They weren't even human."

When Ethan first saw this, he was terrified. Anyone would be, waking to such a nightmare.

He screamed, thrashing violently, refusing to let anyone touch him. Even injections were impossible—the needles looked like bloodstained knives stabbing into his body.

In the end, doctors sedated him. They showed him surveillance footage of the room: no monsters, no tentacles, no knives—just him, struggling like a madman.

He spent those days sedated but swore what he saw was real. The bone-chilling malice around him couldn't be fake. Everyone wanted him dead.

Strangely, the murderous monsters never killed him, even when he was defenseless.

After returning home, the visions faded, resurfacing only occasionally. But stepping outside instantly reignited the horror he'd felt in the hospital. So he shut himself away, cutting off all social ties—even dropping out of school.

When the visions vanished, he heard demonic whispers—unintelligible yet constant. Ethan lived in this torment for years.

He sensed that if he didn't solve this soon, even his mother might kill him. Her impatience was palpable.

"So I stayed home. Everywhere else… it's all malice." Ethan sighed, ending his story.

"Zachary, why ask about this? Have you… heard the whispers too?"

Zachary's face paled further. "No. I saw something. Earlier, I noticed shadowy monsters behind our classmates—clawing their way into their bodies. Their veins were torn apart, but they kept laughing and chatting, oblivious!"

The image of people unknowingly dying while socializing made Ethan shiver.

"Honestly, Zachary, I get it. What I saw was worse." He shoved his hands into his pockets, resigned.

No one would believe this madness—except maybe someone who'd lived it.

"Ethan… what do we do? We can't go back. Should we… call the police?" Zachary trembled, still haunted.

Ethan scoffed inwardly. I used to admire him. Turns out he's this weak.

"The police'll think we're insane. They might send us back—straight to the monsters. That's suicide." Ethan calmly patted Zachary's shoulder. "There's only one way out now."

Zachary gripped Ethan's arm desperately. "What way?!"

Ethan smiled coldly. "Simple—"

Thud!

A dagger sliced through flesh. Zachary stared up in disbelief as Ethan looked down, icy and unfeeling, the blade dripping blood.

"Did you think I'd fall for this, Zachary?"

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