3rd Eye

I sat cross-legged on the floor of my apartment, the dim light from a single bulb casting long shadows across the room. The air felt heavy, charged with an energy I couldn't quite name. My phone lay in pieces on the coffee table, its SIM card snapped in half. I'd deleted every contact, every message, every trace of my old life. It felt necessary, like shedding a skin that no longer fit.

The past two days had been a blur, a whirlwind of impossible things that refused to be explained away. The scar on my forehead—a thin, silvery line that pulsed faintly with warmth—was proof enough. Proof that I wasn't losing my mind. Proof that this was real.

But real didn't make it any easier to understand.

I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes and letting out a slow breath. My head was throbbing again, a dull ache that seemed to radiate from the scar. The whispers were there too, faint but insistent, like a radio tuned just slightly off-frequency.

*"You already know the answer,"* they murmured, their voices overlapping in a chaotic chorus. *"You just don't want to admit it."*

I clenched my teeth, trying to push them away, but they only grew louder.

*"The Veil. The threads. The truth. You've seen it. You've felt it. Stop lying to yourself."*

"I'm not lying," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "I just… I don't understand."

*"Understanding is overrated. What matters is what you do with it."*

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing. The alley, the crack in the air, the thing with too many eyes—it had all started there. But what was it? What had I seen? And why had it chosen me?

I didn't have answers, but I knew one thing for certain: I couldn't go back to my old life. Not after what I'd seen. Not after what I'd felt.

The job was gone. I'd quit that morning, sending a terse email to my boss without explanation. The people I'd called friends were gone too, their numbers erased from my phone. It wasn't that I didn't care about them—it was that I couldn't risk dragging them into this. Whatever this was.

I stood up, my legs shaky, and walked over to the window. The city stretched out before me, a sprawling maze of lights and shadows. It looked the same as it always had, but I knew better now. The threads were still there, faint and shimmering, weaving through the air like invisible spiderwebs. I could see them if I focused, their patterns shifting and changing with every passing second.

And then there was the Veil.

I shuddered at the memory. That thin, translucent curtain hanging in the air, and the things I'd seen beyond it—dark, twisted shapes that moved in ways that made my skin crawl. I didn't know what they were, but I knew they weren't from this world.

*"They're waiting for you,"* the whispers said, their tone almost gleeful. *"They've always been waiting."*

"Shut up," I muttered, pressing the heels of my hands against my temples. "Just shut up."

But the whispers didn't stop. If anything, they grew louder, more chaotic.

*"You can't ignore it forever. The scar, the threads, the Veil—they're all connected. And so are you."*

I turned away from the window, my heart pounding. The apartment felt too small, too suffocating. I needed to get out, to clear my head. But where could I go? The city was a labyrinth, and I had no idea what I was looking for.

And then it hit me.

The man from the park.

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. His sharp features, his piercing blue eyes, the way the threads of light had twisted around him like they were afraid. He'd known something—something about me, about the Veil, about all of it.

*"Find him,"* the whispers urged. *"He has the answers you're looking for."*

I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door, my mind made up. I didn't know where to start, but I had to try. The man had said I wasn't ready, but I didn't have the luxury of waiting. Not anymore.

The streets were alive with noise and movement, but it all felt distant, like I was watching it through a fogged-up window. The threads of light were everywhere, their patterns more intricate than I'd ever noticed before. I could see them now, not just in the air but in the people around me—their auras glowing with colors that revealed their emotions, their secrets, their fears.

It was overwhelming, but I forced myself to focus. The man had been in the park, so that's where I'd start.

I didn't know what I'd find, but I knew one thing for certain: this wasn't over.

Not even close.

As I walked, the whispers grew louder, their voices merging into a single, insistent chant.

*"The Veil is thinning. The threads are unraveling. And you… you are the key."*

I still dont know what the voice is trying to say, I don't know what's going on with me, why me, I am completely clueless, but one thing is for certain: this voice in my head will lead me to all my answers.