Denial

Denial - Daniel Ortega (Vertex Partnership Academies, Eleventh Grade)

The room was sterile, with white walls and fluorescent lights overhead. The air smelled

faintly of disinfectant, mingling with the subtle scent of flowers from a small vase on the bedside

table. The soft hum of medical equipment filled the room, interspersed with the occasional beep

from the heart monitor.

As I looked out of the window, I could see the bustling hospital hallway, filled with

people in scrubs rushing back and forth. They appeared anxious, their voices murmuring urgently

as they glanced in my direction. The sight of the nurse dropping her notepad and the doctor’s

warm smile surprised me.

My body felt heavy and weak as if I had been asleep for a long time. I could feel the

coolness of the sheets against my skin, providing a slight comfort. The confusion and questions

swirled in my mind, wondering how I ended up in this hospital bed and what had happened to

me.

The doctor’s words echoed in my ears, bringing a mix of emotions. “Glad to see you

again.” My mind was filled with confusion. What is she talking about? I thought to myself. She

approached me after telling the nurse to go outside the room. “You see,” she sits down next to

me, “we’ve been trying to find a way to wake you up after all this time. But, somehow, you

awaken now.”

“I don’t understand,” I said softly. “Why am I here?” Before the doctor could answer, the

nurse opened the door and told her that the higher-ups of the hospital that I was in had arrived.

“I’m sorry, but we’ll discuss this later.” The doctor stands and quickly walks away from me. I lay

alone in the white-filled room, staring at the ceiling lights, pondering why I was there. Before I

could process my thoughts further, the sound of breaking glass shattered the peaceful ambiance.

The flower vase topples over, spilling water and flowers onto the floor.

The lights go off, and everyone from outside the room disappears. “H-Hey!” I shout, and

fear courses through my body. “Anyone there?! W-What’s going on?!” I attempted to sit up, but I

felt a sharp pain in my arms. I sat on the bed, looking at my surroundings. I closed my eyes and

believed that all of this wasn’t real. When I opened my eyes, the room looked musty and black

and white damped throughout the area. “Hey there!” I jumped at the sound of a voice. “Who are

you?! Where am I?! Show yourself!” I yelled.

A shadowy figure approached me, faceless and all black. “You’re in a hospital? I thought

that’d be obvious,” it said sarcastically. “Who are you?” I repeated. The figure walked over to

the window, panning at the outside. “Hey! Answer me, please!” My voice cracked from fear.

“Don’t worry; you’re safe.” it turns its head back to my bed. “Trust me, lad.”

“Blasphemy! Get me out of here!” I struggled to move my arms, giving every strength in

my body to sit up. The figure walks up to me, staring at my weak body. “Hey, relax.” It sits down

on a chair next to me. “You’re safe here. Really.” I look at the figure, unable to see its features.

“Why can’t I see your face? Am I in hell?” The figure chuckles at my question, putting its leg on

the other to get comfortable. “You know, for a kid, you have a dirty mouth. Talkative, too.” I

began to shed tears as it said that, looking at him. “Please,” I whisper, “Help me.” The figure

stands up and lifts me so I can sit up, patting my back. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. You look pretty

knackered, mate.” It sits in front of me on the bed; I’m still unable to see its appearance. “Why

are you all black, and your hair is white? Are you a bad guy?” I asked, breathing a bit faster.

The figure puts its hands on mine. “I’m not a bad guy. I didn’t even send you here. Plus,

this isn’t hell-You think this is hell?” It reassures me. I calm down, staring at it for a few seconds

before questioning it again. “How...how did I get here?” The figure straightens itself, “You were

hurt badly.” “I can see.” I spewed. “Well, you look knackered. You should get some rest.” I

shook my head. “Tell me what happened to me, please.”

The figure hesitates for a moment, then comes back to consciousness. “Someone brutally

whacked you; then you were sent here. The culprit ran away but got arrested. The lad couldn’t hide for long, eh?” It nudged me, trying to joke around. I moved myself away from it. “Aren’t

you tacky?” It responded.

“What is this place?” I ask while observing the atmosphere. Everything was black and

white like an artist’s sketch plastered all over. “You’re in the city. It’s pretty cool...well, it was,

but you’ll get the hang of it soon, right mate?” It stands up with its hands out. I noticed it didn’t

look tall; it looked weirdly short, like my height. I slowly moved my trembling arms towards its

grasp. It carefully pulled me off the bed, and when my feet touched the floor, I didn’t tumble to

the ground. “Well, look at you,” It says, watching my feet, “seems like you’ve fully recovered.”

It jokes.

I stared at the floor, pondering how I felt no pain. I attempted to walk, and I was able to

do it. “What the? Did you do something to me?” I asked it. It shook its head in denial. “Sorry, but

I don’t have any magical powers, lad. It’s pretty dodgy to me.” I nodded in agreement and

headed to the window that separated me from the hospital’s atmosphere. I witnessed my

reflection on the panel. My body doesn’t have any indications of injuries or scars. What’s going

on? I thought. “Weird, ain’t it?” The figure says, “Let’s get out of here.”

We slowly walk down the stairs of the deserted hospital. Every floor had empty rooms,

and the fluorescent white lighting made the place look like something out of a horror movie. The

figure screams scarily as if it saw something. I rush over to it. “W-what happened?!” I cried out.

It jumps at me; I fall over and hit my back on one of the counters near the entrance. “Aha! You

should’ve seen your face, lad!” It exclaims. I groaned while getting up, angered at what it did.

“Why did you do that?” I ask sternly. The figure’s body language shifts into a more apologetic

tone. “Look, lad, I didn’t mean to do that. Sorry, I made you feel gutted.” I looked at it and felt

remorseful; I nodded in forgiveness, and we continued to leave the hospital.

We left the hospital and entered a black-and-white world; the city stands frozen in time, a

haunting reflection of abandonment. Towering buildings, stripped of color and life, rise like

skeletal giants against the monochrome sky. Their dark and hollow windows stare out, echoing

the silence that envelops the streets below. Pavement, cracked and worn, stretches endlessly, each

 step an echo in the emptiness. Streetlights loom overhead. Their glow is long extinguished,

casting eerie shadows that dance without movement.

Every corner we walked through was steeped in stillness, as if the city held its breath,

waiting for a life that would never return. The air was thick with a palpable sense of loss. Amidst

this desolation, the architecture stood as a testament to what it was—an echoing shell of solitude.

“It’s almost like an ‘apocalyptic’ type of city,” I say, “This city is in some sort of limbo.” The

figure chuckles slightly as it looks in my direction. “Well, it does seem ‘unreal,’ but you’ll get

used to it.” The figure tells me to follow it, slowly leading me somewhere. “Where are we

going?” I ask. The figure pauses as we continue to move through the streets. “Just

somewhere...somewhere I never wanted to go to ever again.” It sounded like its throat was

parched, making me question what it was thinking about. I tilted my head at it before they began

talking again. “Oh, don’t worry about what just happened. We’re going to the center.” Its tone

changed to an amused one.

I continued to look at it. “Hey, by the way, who are you, exactly? I never got the chance

to know it.” My body turns to the figure; it stands still as if pondering whether it has a name.

“Kilo. The name’s Kilo. And you’re...Adam, right?” I stood back from it. How did it know my

name? “Don’t question how I know your name, alright? Just know that you’re with me. Come

on, let’s go to the...center,” the figure insists. I froze for a few seconds until I got a grip and

walked beside it.

We walk past a vast building with broken windows and shattered glass on the ground. I

examined the inside of the building, but the figure dragged me not to look away. “H-Hey!” I

yelled, pulling away from it. “Don’t look at that. It’s unimportant.” The figure points the

opposite way, trying to divert my attention from the building. I ignored it and climbed up into the

building, getting a cut on my foot the moment I touched the ground floor. I winced and continued

to limp to observe the interior. There was nothing but a frame on the wall. I limped over to it,

seeing a group of people with “X’s” across their faces, except for one of them. They were all

blending into the black background, so I couldn’t see any of their features, but I recall the one

without an “X” with white hair. The figure stands behind me, alluring in its presence. “I told you, there’s nothing here. Look at you, you got cut from your dafty actions!” It shouted angrily. It

picked up the frame, threw it outside, grabbed my arm, and forced me to leave the building.

I had to limp my way outside since the cut was still there. However, I didn’t see any

blood coming out at all. The glass piece was wedged into my foot, but nothing was dripping. The

figure let go of my arm, standing before me as if trying to discipline me. “Stay with me at all

times, go it, lad?” “Fine! Just take me to the center already!” I hollered. The figure hesitated,

balling its fists. “Let’s go somewhere else...” I raised my eyebrow at it in disgust. “Are you

toying with me right now?! You wanted us to go to the center of this treacherous, depressing city,

but when I get sidetracked, you want to tell me to focus?! You clearly don’t even want to go to

the center!” I shouted furiously. The figure was getting on my nerves! I can’t believe this! I

thought.

“Bollocks!”, The figure retorted. “If you want to go, then let’s go!” The figure groaned,

walking faster to our destination. I slowly traveled behind it. “‘I want to get out of this place. I

want to go back to the hospital!’-Fuck the hospital!” The figure talked to itself, then turned

around, its hair swaying swiftly. I looked at it, enraged about it mocking me. “Why are you such

a pissy, short-tempered person!” It said. I freeze. Was it talking to me? The figure put its hands

on its head, walking towards a wall. It starts banging its head. “Hey! Don’t do that!” I pulled it

away. The figure shoved me to the floor. “Don’t tell me what to do, punk! I just wanted to be like

you!” There’s an awkward silence that appears between the two of us. The figure sits down on

the sidewalk, looking like it was crying. Why is it crying? It doesn’t even look human..., I

thought. The longer it cried, the more remorse I felt. I sat down in front of the figure.

“Why are you so...defensive towards yourself? What’s going on?” I asked, waiting for

the figure to look up at me. “I...I don’t know. I-I never had these emotions. I...” the figure

stutters. “Look, just know that I apologize for yelling at you. I’m just a pawn. I can’t fight back.

I’m weak, disgraceful, useless.” The figure sounded depressed. I put my hand on its shoulder.

“Kilo, you’re not useless. You must be going through something, but you’re not alone in

this...world.” I moved my hand to it, holding it while I picked it up from the ground. The figure

stared at me, and I to it; it was like staring into my reflection in a mirror. I couldn’t see its

expressions, but it was happy. “Thanks, mate.” We began coursing through the city once again.

A thought came across my mind. “So, why do you not want to go to the center? What

even is the center?” The figure stayed quiet for a moment before answering. “There’s something

that’s been constantly stuck in my mind. It’s hurt me and made me feel trapped for so long. That

thing is waiting for me to come back there, and I can’t escape it. But you’re here. So, maybe I

can muster up the courage to triumph over it.” It smirks slightly, its head tilted in my direction.

“What is this thing?”

“Its name’s “Kiloswold.” They’re waiting for us at the “center,” and I can hear the

caution in its voice. It urges us to be very careful, but when it says “Kiloswold,” a cold chill

washes over me. Something unsettling about it sends a shiver down my spine, but I can’t put my

finger on what exactly feels off. My instincts are screaming at me to be on alert, and I can feel

my heart rate pick up as we move forward, cautiously stepping into the unknown. With every

step, the unease grows, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re heading into a place I’m not

prepared for, no matter what Kilo says.

When we finally reach the “center,” I expect something strange and otherworldly, but

what I see takes me entirely off guard. “This is the center?” I ask before Kilo nods. It’s a tall

office building—nothing like what I imagined. The sleek, glass exterior reflects the fading light

in a way that feels almost unnatural, and I can’t help but feel disoriented. I’ve never seen

anything like it before. It stands there, stark and imposing, as if it doesn’t belong there. The

building looks so ordinary, so out of place against the tension in the air, and yet I know there’s

something more to it. My mind races with questions—how can something so mundane be tied to

Kiloswold, and what does it all mean for us now?

Kilo and I step into the building, the sterile lobby stretching out before us. “Let’s take the

elevator,” Kilo says. We head straight for the elevator, expecting it to take us to the heart of the

“center,” but things don’t go as planned when we try to use it. The elevator buttons refuse to

respond, no matter how many times we press them. Kilo tries to pull the door open, failing. At

first, I thought it might be a malfunction, but after several attempts, frustration builds. The

elevator remains stubbornly still, and we are left with no choice but to abandon it. “Come on,”

Kilo says with a resigned sigh. Kilo leads me toward the stairs, and we begin our ascent, each

step echoing in the otherwise quiet space. The sound of our footsteps seems amplified in the

silence, adding to the tension slowly tightening around us.

“So, who exactly is Kiloswold?” I try to break the silence. Kilo ignores me as we make

our way through the “office,” the strangeness of the place deepens. The building is entirely

devoid of life, its corridors eerily empty, with no sign of any human presence. Desks sit unused,

chairs neatly arranged but unoccupied, and everything feels oddly sterile as if the space is

waiting for something—or someone—to fill it. I can’t shake the unease gnawing at me, the

oppressive silence pressing in from all sides. It’s as though the whole place is watching, and I

feel like an intruder in some place that isn’t meant for me. Kilo, however, doesn’t seem as

disturbed as I am. “Since you don’t know, Kiloswold has been monitoring us through a network

of cameras hidden throughout the city.” I pause at the stairwell; “What?” Kilo chuckles at my

response. “Don’t worry about it, mate. He won’t hurt us. He’s a good person. His words only

deepen the sense of unease. Kilo was just telling me that we should be cautious before. Why is he

telling me this? Something isn’t right. I thought to myself.

We’ve been under surveillance the entire time, watched by eyes we can’t see. I shudder,

wondering just how much Kiloswold knows about us—and whether we’re walking right into

something. As Kilo and I make our way through the empty office, the air around us grows

thicker and heavier with every step. My eyes scan the walls, searching for any sign of movement,

when suddenly—crack. A sharp sound cuts through the silence, followed by a voice that sends a

cold chill racing down my spine.

“Kilo...”

The voice is low, almost too smooth, like it’s coming from all directions at once. It feels

like it’s surrounding us, wrapping itself around my skin. I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest, and turn toward the elevator area. A figure stands in the shadow of the elevator doors. The

air seems to distort around them, and my breath catches in my throat.

Kilo doesn’t flinch. They stand tall, facing the figure without a hint of surprise.

“Kiloswold,” he says, voice steady but with a trace of something darker beneath it. The figure

steps forward, their presence commanding the space in a way that feels almost unnatural. I can

barely distinguish their features, but the voice is unmistakable, dripping with authority. “You’ve

come a long way, haven’t you? How... quaint,” Kiloswold says, a slow smile spreading across

their lips. “I’ve been waiting. Watching.”

I swallow hard, looking at Kilo, then back at the figure, my mind racing. “What—what

do you want with us?” I manage to ask, though my voice feels too small in the vast emptiness of

the room.

Kiloswold tilts their head, his face gleaming in the dim light. “I want nothing from you,”

they reply smoothly. “But you’ve come this far. Whether you like it or not, you’re already part of

the game.” The room feels too small, the air thick with a tension neither Kilo nor Kiloswold can

shake. Kiloswold stands with a calmness that contrasts sharply with the fire in their voice. Their

gaze is cold and calculating as they look Kilo up and down. “I should have known you’d come

crawling back, Kilo,” they say, their words slow and deliberate, each carefully crafted to wound.

“You were always a disappointment, even when you thought you were worth something. How

funny—pathetic, really—that you think you can change. You’re still the same weak fool.” The

words hang in the air, heavy with mockery.

Kilo’s body tenses, his hands flexing at his sides, but its fingers tremors betray the fear

gnawing at them. Its eyes dart away for a moment, almost like it's looking for a way out, but

when it speaks, its voice is shaky, nearly unsure of itself. “I’m not the same as before,” Kilo says,

but even to its own ears, the words sound unconvincing. Its voice cracks as it tries to hold onto

some sliver of defiance. “I’ve changed. I’ve grown.” But even as it says it, I see the doubt in its

head movement—how its shoulders seem to slump under the weight of Kiloswold’s gaze. The

mocking smile that crosses Kiloswold’s lips only deepens its unease. Kiloswold doesn’t stop, their voice like a blade, carving through Kilo’s fragile defense.

“Changed? Please. You can’t change, Kilo. You’ll always be weak. Always.” He steps closer, the

air between them growing colder, sharper. “Look at you. You’re so pathetic I can barely stand to

look at you. What was I even thinking? That you could ever be something? It’s laughable.” The

words are punctuated by a venomous laugh, and I see Kilo flinch, his breath coming in shallow

bursts. Its body trembles, and I know it’s not just from the cold—it’s the fear, the helplessness

creeping in.

And then, as if to further drive the point home, Kiloswold turns their attention to me, the

shift in focus swift and calculating. “And you,” they say, their voice laced with mock sweetness,

but their eyes cold and predatory. “You think you can trust that? This broken thing? You’ve

placed your faith in someone who can’t even defend themselves. How pathetic.” The words slice

through the quiet, and I stay still, silent, watching the exchange carefully. The sting is sharp, but I

don’t show it. Instead, I focus on Kilo, trying to understand why they look so small in this

moment, so far from the person I thought he was.

Kiloswold doesn’t wait for a response. Their eyes flick back to Kilo, their gaze narrowing

with growing anger. “You think you can stand up to me now? After all this time? You couldn’t

even do it back then. What makes you think you can now?” The mockery is gone now, replaced

by something darker, more contemptuous. The pressure mounts, and I can feel the tension in the

room becoming unbearable. Kilo remains silent, their body quivering with the weight of

Kiloswold’s words, putting their hands in somewhat of a pocket from their “pants.” Every time it

opens its mouth to say something, the words seem to die on their lips. Its chest rises and falls

erratically, their gaze downward, avoiding Kiloswold’s piercing stare.

Kiloswold circles him like a wolf closing in on its prey, their voice rising with fury. “You

were always afraid, Kilo. Too scared to face what you really are. You’ll always be nothing.” He

stops directly in front of them now, standing so close that I can almost feel the heat of their

anger. Kilo stands motionless, their face blank, and their lips look like they were pressed tightly together. They’re still shaking, but it’s not just from fear anymore—it’s from the sheer force of

Kiloswold’s words, the unrelenting way they’re tearing them down.

For a moment, there’s a heavy silence between them. Kilo is frozen, unable to speak or

respond, their body betraying them as it trembles under the weight of Kiloswold’s contempt.

Their eyes are wide, their breath shallow, and I can see the strain on their faces as they fight to

gather themselves. They open his mouth again, this time his voice barely a whisper, but before

they can say anything, Kiloswold moves.

In one swift motion, they shove Kilo back against the wall. The force of it makes Kilo

gasp, their back hitting the cold surface with a muffled thud. Kiloswold leans in, their face only

inches from theirs, his voice now a low growl. “Do you understand now, Kilo?” he hisses, their

breath against their face. “You are nothing. You were always nothing. And you’ll always be a

mistake.” The words are a searing brand, leaving Kilo speechless, their body pressed against the

wall, frozen by the intensity of Kiloswold’s anger.

Kilo doesn’t respond. He can’t. The air around us feels thick, suffocating, and I watch

helplessly as Kiloswold threatens them. The confrontation escalates rapidly, the air thick with the

tension of their argument. Kiloswold, now consumed by a boiling rage, is a storm of cruelty as

they tower over Kilo, the force of their words hitting Kilo harder than any physical blow could.

“You really think you’ve changed, Kilo?” Kiloswold sneers, their voice dripping with venom,

the words coming faster now, each one more cutting than the last. “You’re still the same useless,

pathetic creature I left behind. Nothing more than a waste of space, a shadow of what you

could’ve been. Nothing.”

Before Kilo can even react, Kiloswold grabs them by the collar and slams them violently

against the cold concrete wall. The impact is sickening—a muffled thud that echoes in the

otherwise empty room. Kilo gasps, the wind knocked out of them, its body crumpling against the

wall. They stumble for balance, but Kiloswold is relentless. With a growl, he slams them back

again, harder this time. Kilo’s breath comes in ragged sobs, their face twisted in sheer terror as he

tries to shrink away, but Kiloswold doesn’t give him an inch of space. The sound of his back hitting the wall again and again is horrifying, and with each blow, Kilo’s resolve cracks just a

little more.

I stand there, frozen in place, horrified by the scene unfolding in front of me. Every part

of me wants to move, to intervene, to do something—but my body refuses to obey. All I can do is

watch in helpless horror as Kiloswold continues their relentless assault, not physically, but

psychologically, emotionally. Kilo’s hands shake uncontrollably, their body shuddering with each

fresh wave of abuse, and I see the desperate, broken look on their face—a far cry from the person

they used to be. There’s no fight left in them anymore. They’re just a shell, sobbing

uncontrollably, eyes squeezed shut, unable to escape the torrent of Kiloswold’s hatred.

“Pathetic,” Kiloswold spits, their words cruel and biting as they lean in close to Kilo,

their breath rancid. “You were never anything. You still aren’t. Weak. You’re so weak. A

failure.” With each word, Kiloswold’s voice grows louder, more cutting, more furious. “I wasted

my time on you, thinking maybe—just maybe—you could be something. But look at you now,

Kilo. You’re nothing. You always were nothing. You’ll never be anything.” The contempt in their

voice is absolute, and they shove Kilo back against the wall once more, harder this time, almost

as though they want to see them break, to see them crumble into nothingness.

Kilo can’t even find the strength to speak anymore. Their voice is gone—replaced by

gut-wrenching sobs, the sound of which rips through me like a physical blow. Their body

trembles violently, their face a mixture of fear, regret, and defeat. Kiloswold finally releases Kilo

and allows them some respite to breathe. Kilo collapses on the ground and curls up, crying and

shaking on the ground, their face buried in their arms, with tears streaming down their face.

Kiloswold, with a disgusted look, starts yelling at them again. Kilo doesn’t even seem to notice,

as they’re in a state of shock and have mentally shut off. “Why father?! Why?!” Kilo cries, my

face feeling odd for some reason. Kilo tries to get up but fails and lies on the ground, completely

weak. He lets out a few more exhausted gasps for air as Kiloswold continues to say derogatory

things to him. Kiloswold mocks Kilo’s weakness, calling him “useless” and a “waste of space”

with a cruel laugh.

I can’t just stand here and watch this anymore. Every part of me is screaming to do

something, anything, but I’m paralyzed by fear. Kilo’s sobs—their broken, desperate gasps for

air—cut through me like a knife. I want to turn away, to block it all out, but the image of them

lying there, powerless and crumpled beneath Kiloswold’s cruelty, is burning into my mind, like

I’ve dealt with this before. My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear anything else. I can

feel the weight of my hesitation, the way my limbs feel like lead, but I know I can’t just watch

them fall apart. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I can’t let this go on. Not anymore.

With a shaky breath, I force myself to move. My legs feel weak, as if they might give out

at any moment, but I take a step forward. Kiloswold’s harsh laughter rings in my ears, and I can

feel their cold gaze on me, but I push through it. I’m terrified, so terrified I feel like I might

choke, but I can’t turn back. Not when Kilo needs me. Not when I know they’re too far gone, so

broken by this. I square my shoulders and stand between them, facing Kiloswold, though my

whole body is trembling. My voice shakes as I try to find some courage inside me, forcing the

words out through the tightness in my throat. “I won’t let you do this,” I say, but it sounds small,

shaky. I take another step, trying to hold my ground, despite the terror that’s creeping up my

spine. “Stop it,” I demand, the words a little firmer this time, even though I can feel my hands

shaking. I don’t know what will happen next, but I know I have to try.

Kiloswold’s fist comes out of nowhere, crashing into my face with a force so brutal it

feels like the world itself shattered. The impact sends me flying backward, my body slamming

into the floor with a sickening thud. The world spins around me, my vision blurring and my head

swimming in a fog of pain. Blood fills my mouth, and for a moment, I can’t even process what

happened. My breath comes in jagged gasps as I struggle to regain my bearings, pushing myself

up, hmyis hands shaking as they scrape against the cold floor. Every muscle in my body screams

in protest, but I’m still alive. Barely.

Before I can get my feet under me, Kiloswold charges again, their eyes wild with fury.

“Pathetic!” Kiloswold snarls, their voice like nails on a chalkboard as they close in. “You’re not

even worth my time.” My heart slams in my chest, my fear skyrocketing as Kiloswold looms

over me, fists raised, ready to finish what they started. But in that moment, Kilo—weak, exhausted, and barely able to stand—finds some last shred of strength. With a hoarse cry, Kilo

lunges at Kiloswold, grabbing their arm with an unexpected force, his fingers digging into

Kiloswold’s skin like claws. Despite their worn-out and fragile appearance, Kilo holds on with a

surprising tenacity. Kiloswold struggles, twisting their arm violently, trying to break free, but

Kilo’s grip is unyielding, their body shaking with the effort to hold on. The two of them are

locked in a struggle, Kiloswold’s fury growing as Kilo refuses to let go, his breath ragged and

desperate.

“Bloody hell?! Let go of me!” He growls, trying to pry Kilo off, but Kilo doesn’t flinch.

Their eyes are full of defiance, their face contorted with pain, but their grip never falters. With

the last of their strength, Kilo surges forward, using every ounce of energy they have left to twist

and pull Kiloswold toward the window. I watch in a mix of disbelief and horror as Kilo, with

sheer determination, throws himself and Kiloswold out of the window, and their bodies tumble

through the air. For a brief moment, my mind goes blank as I watch them fall, the glass

shattering around them in a violent spray. My chest tightens, my heart dropping into my stomach

as the two figures plummet toward the ground below. The world seemed slow, but I could only

stay there, facing the black-and-white outside world.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I race down to the ground floor, the chaotic events

still replaying in my mind like a broken record. Each step feels like it’s pulling me deeper into

something I can’t escape, but I have to keep moving. I have to find out what’s happening. When I

finally reach the bottom, everything stops. I don’t even know how to process what I’m seeing.

There, lying on the ground, are Kilo and Kiloswold, both completely motionless. It’s like they’re

frozen in time, their bodies lifeless, and I’m left standing there, utterly stunned. My legs feel

weak beneath me, my breath catching as the realization sinks in that something is terribly,

horribly wrong.

I snap out of my daze and rush to the nearest hospital, my mind in a blur, my only

thought to get help. I’m frantically trying to call someone—anyone—along the way, but the

words won’t come out right. I’m too disoriented, too panicked to even think straight. When I burst through the hospital doors, I’m hoping to find someone, anyone, who can help. But what I

see instead stops me dead in my tracks. There, just a few feet away, is my own body.

Lifeless. Motionless.

Lying on the ground like it’s just another casualty. My breath catches in my throat, my

heart lurching in my chest. I stare at it, unblinking, unable to comprehend what I’m seeing. No.

No, this can’t be right. I’m standing here; I’m alive—aren’t I? The confusion is overwhelming.

My mind can’t seem to wrap around the fact that I’m looking at myself, dead on the floor. It feels

like my whole world is collapsing. I can barely breathe, and the cold panic sets in as the reality

hits me: I’m... dead.

As the shock and disbelief try to settle into something resembling understanding, I feel a

sudden chill in the air. I turn, my senses on high alert, and that’s when I see it. A figure, standing

a few feet away, watching me. It’s not like any ghost I’ve seen before, not like anything familiar.

It’s wrong, somehow. I can feel its gaze on me, cold and calculating, and my body stiffens with a

growing sense of dread. My mind races—who is this? What is this? It’s like I’m no longer alone

in whatever place this is.

I’m no longer the observer. I’m the one being watched.

[END]