《Dehumanfied》


 The Wise Man

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    ¡°I love you, Nick.¡±


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    ¡°I love you too!¡± so loud it seemed to reach the highest clouds. He screamed until his lungs gave out, until his body collapsed, laying on the ground fainted.


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    A few weeks later, Nick opened the large windows of the mansion. The cold, fresh winter air filled the room.

 The Interviewer

    Heavy knocks echoed through the mansion. The knocks sounded impatient. Nick opened the oak door. Like he thought, a shadowy creature kept knocking on his door. Soullessly it wandered towards him. It was impatient¡ªit needed answers. An Interview about his loved one, who just died.


    The shadow in human form seemingly annoyed by not getting a fast welcome entered the house without permission.


    There they sat, drinking tea from dark blue ceramic cups. The shadowy figure pulled out a laptop and began typing, its fingers moving mechanically over the keyboard. Then it asked:


    ¡°You were the boyfriend of the recently deceased?¡±


    Nick, still eyeing the strange, formless figure of the shadow, replied, ¡°We never made it official. You don¡¯t need to make something official if no one asks. But now... you could say that.¡±


    The shadow took its notes carefully, its movements precise and robotic. Then it continued:


    ¡°He always seemed to know the true intentions of people. He exposed corrupt politicians and helped those who were good. You were once his student. Do you know how he did it?¡±


    Nick didn¡¯t need to think. ¡°People like to believe they¡¯re human. Like you. Your eyes say, ¡®Look at me, I¡¯m human,¡¯ but your body is formless. You¡¯ve forgotten who you were because all that interests you now are the lives of others. You¡¯re no different from a living corpse. You want to be angry at me in this moment, but are you really?


    Let me tell you a story¡ªa story everyone knows.


    My mentor had just turned sixteen when he began traveling the world. He came to a country far, far away¡ªone he had never heard of before. They were in the middle of an election. There was a man who stood out. His movements were slow, his emotions robotic. On the surface, he waved to the crowd, but my mentor saw the truth: he was pouring black ink onto the people, trying to infect their minds with lies.


    This man was no longer human. He had become a puppet controlled by an uncontrollable hunger for power.


    He lied. He faked emotions. He wanted people to stop being human.


    My mentor stopped him. How? He showed the people the truth¡ªthat this man was corrupt. He saved that country from a bad leader and gave them a new one. He chose a young girl in the crowd who was still human.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The shadow paused, its typing momentarily slowing. Then it asked, ¡°But aren¡¯t we all human?¡±


    Nick looked up, his eyes sharp. ¡°Everyone is born human. But people loose it. My Mentor always said that we get dehumanfied through life¡± he replied.


    ¡°Dehumanfied?¡± the interviewer asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a word he used to describe the loss of the human essence,¡± Nick replied.


    ¡°What¡¯s the human essence?¡± the interviewer pressed.


    Nick¡¯s eyes flickered with a mix of sadness and determination. ¡°He died before he could figure it out. He was good at seeing people lose it, but like all great philosophers, he could only guess at what it truly was.


    Human nature is fascinating. We accept that greed is human, that betrayal is human, and so on. Some people say we¡¯re born pure, while others argue that we¡¯re inherently self-oriented, that we¡¯re not pure because survival in the wild demands selfishness.


    I don¡¯t know the answer. But I know this: he believed that discovering what the human essence is would protect you from being dehumanfied. And I will continue his legacy¡ªI will find the answer.¡±


    The interviewer¡¯s lips curled into a faint smirk, and there was a sharpness in their voice as they asked, ¡°But if he could see when someone was dehumanfied, couldn¡¯t he have just avoided the things that made him lose his essence?¡±


    Nick paused, his expression darkening.¡°Every time he saw someone who had lost their essence, he saw those same flaws in himself. It¡¯s as if the more he recognized it in others, the more he felt himself slipping¡ªbecoming dehumanfied little by little.


    In the end, I saw it happen. I saw him losing his shape, his humanity... fading away. And now,¡± Nick hesitated, his voice heavy with sorrow, ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll lose my shape too. But I must. It¡¯s the only way to reclaim my true form.¡±


    The shadowy interviewer without a reaction continued: ¡°Last question. You said I was dehumanfied. Have I lost the entire essence?¡±


    Nick turned to face the figure, his gaze piercing through the shadow¡¯s form. ¡°You lost most of it when you were young¡ªaround 14 or 15, I¡¯d guess. Since then, you¡¯ve been searching for that missing part, trying to fill the void by delving into the lives of others. But instead of regaining what you lost, you¡¯ve only been losing yourself more and more.


    Now, you¡¯re just a shadow¡ªa hollow form with only a faint golden glow left in the center. That glow is all you have left. Don¡¯t lose it.¡±


    Nick pushed himself up from the armchair, his voice firm yet tired. Grabbing his coat, he moved toward the door.


    The interviewer¡¯s hollow eyes followed him, their shadowy form unmoving.


    Nick opened the door, the cold winter air rushing in. Without looking back, he stepped outside, leaving behind the house that had once been his home.


    The interviewer remained seated, alone and confused, in the echoing silence of a house filled with memories that were no longer theirs.

 The City

    The cold was relentless. The once-blooming landscape now lay pale and lifeless, blanketed in a frozen silence. Could the flowers ever return to this field, as they had year after year¡ªor, like the dead, would they never come back? Would people mourn the loss of such beauty when it was gone, or would they simply turn their attention to other beautiful things until there was nothing left?


    Nick trudged up the barren hill, his coat wrapped tightly around him against the icy wind. His hands were buried in his pockets, and a scarf shielded his neck from the biting cold. The sky began to darken¡ªa bad omen. But as the air grew dense with fog, Nick took it as a good sign: a river must be nearby. It was the river that ran through the old town he was searching for.


    The town was a miserable place, filled with the soulless. But it was also a crowded place, and with enough people, there was always a chance¡ªhowever small¡ªof meeting someone who was still truly human.


    By the time Nick reached the edge of the city, the sky was pitch black. From the hill, he looked down at the sprawling city lights. The town was a chaotic mix of old and new, with houses packed tightly together, filling every available inch of space. Towering, brightly lit skyscrapers stood side by side with tiny, dilapidated homes.


    But at the city¡¯s heart lay something magnificent: an ancient wall, once built to defend against invaders, now served as a symbolic divide between the old and the new. Lights illuminated the wall, casting a warm glow over the gothic churches and historic buildings clustered around it.


    Nick entered the city when the moon hung high in the sky.


    The district he found himself in was the epitome of lost humanity. A gateway to the red-light district led him into a world stripped of essence and soul.


    He passed a man who looked like a bloated blobfish, waddling drunkenly through the streets like a sack of potatoes out of place. The man clutched a bottle of something that made his breath smell rotten and his crooked teeth even more visible. He stumbled, singing a cheerful tune before vomiting in the shadow of a nearby hooker.


    Disgusted, the woman kicked him in the face with her stiletto, leaving him unconscious and bleeding on the ground. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, muttering curses under her breath. She had just lost a customer.


    Shadows were everywhere, moving aimlessly. Lust overflowed, drowning any sense of love. Some gave their bodies for money, their essence long gone. Even the children of the prostitutes were without shape, their essence stolen in early childhood¡ªcasualties of soulless men who paid enough money to impregnate their mothers.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The air reeked of alcohol and tobacco, thick and suffocating. The place felt rotten, stagnant, like a festering wound that would never heal.


    Nick wandered through the streets, his eyes scanning the shadows, trying to understand how and when these people had lost their essence.


    His gaze fell on a shadow in the form of a prostitute. He focused on her formless figure, searching for the rings. Like the rings of a tree, people carried the defining moments of their lives etched into their souls. For her, it was her 14th birthday¡ªthe day her father raped her one too many times.


    She became pregnant with her own father¡¯s child, and the weight of it shattered her. She had killed the baby, nearly taking her own life in the process. Homeless and desperate, she roamed the streets. Eventually, she turned to the one thing her father had always told her she was good at.


    Her essence was stolen by a man who had already lost his own and sought to reclaim it in the worst way. Over time, she had let the rest of her essence slip away, accepting her fate and ceasing to fight against the life she lived. The money was good, and that was enough for her.


    Nick was struck by how clearly this particular shadow told its story. Normally, he would have had to watch the shadow¡¯s movements more carefully, piecing together subtle signs to interpret their past. But now, the story unfolded before him like an open book.


    Then, suddenly, pain exploded in Nick¡¯s head. It felt like a drill boring into his skull. He clutched his temples, his vision swimming as the world faded to black.


    In the darkness, memories clawed their way back to him¡ªa night he had buried deep within himself.


    His mother had tried to steal a part of his essence to replace the part she had lost when she gave birth to him. He saw her clearly now, pinning his arm down with her long red nails as she pressed a cigarette lighter against his skin. Her red lips whispered cruel words: ¡°You deserve this.¡±


    Her blue eyes showed no guilt, only cold indifference. Her fake diamond earrings dangled mockingly as she wore them just to impress others.


    Nick had forgotten this moment. But now, he saw it for what it was: a time he lost part of his form.


    When Nick awoke, he was lying in a filthy alley. His coat, scarf, and money were gone. Bruises covered his body, and he had been discarded like a drug addict left to rot.


    Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, shivering in nothing but a thin, soaked T-shirt. His papers lay in a puddle nearby, waterlogged but still intact. He bent down to retrieve them.


    Looking up at the night sky, he saw no stars. Only darkness.


    Then, a voice echoed in his memory. His boyfriend¡¯s words, spoken years ago:


    ¡°Live will not make anything easy for you, if no one was there before you to pave the way. When we go on the search for essence together you will see that the unpaved roads are the hardest to go, but they have the highest reward in the end.¡±


    Nick took a deep breath, steadying himself. This road wasn¡¯t completely unpaved¡ªthere was someone here he knew.


    At the far end of the red-light district, he found a crooked house with a crooked door. He knocked firmly.


    A woman opened the door, her formless face frozen in surprise. Her smile quickly faded.


    ¡°Hello, Mother,¡± Nick said, stepping inside without another word.

 Home

    This old place¡ªso many memories. So much pain lingering in every corner. Three stories tall, reachable only by a set of creaking wooden stairs. Six apartments filled with rotten people who ignored his screams¡ªpeople who stole his food when he hadn¡¯t eaten in days. A place where the water tasted of copper and sometimes blood, especially when the upstairs neighbor beat his wife in the boiler room and used the pipes to dispose of the evidence.


    In other words, it was his sad excuse for a home.


    He stepped into apartment number two and saw his reflection in the hallway mirror. He stopped, turning slightly to see his full reflection.


    He hadn¡¯t looked at himself in years¡ªit was part of his training.


    ¡°Seeing yourself makes it harder to distance yourself. And when you see yourself as human, you¡¯ll start to see everyone else that way,¡± his love had once told him.


    He was right. The only downside was that once you stopped seeing the human in people, leaving behind only their shadow, you¡¯d never truly see their outside again.


    Looking in the mirror now, he saw it had gotten worse. Most of his face was already a shadow. His right eye¡ªstill that piercing blue his father had loved¡ªwas the only feature left untouched. His long blond hair was the only thing giving his head any shape.


    It was clear he had lost much of his essence. He didn¡¯t need to read his own shadow to know why¡ªit was obvious. He knew exactly how and when he¡¯d lost it.


    What did his mentor see in him? If he¡¯d dared to ask, the answer would¡¯ve been: ¡°Look at me! What¡¯s left of me? I gave everything up.¡± It was true. His mentor had given up everything. Outwardly, he had achieved great heights. Inwardly, he had fallen deeper and deeper.


    Finally, Nick stepped inside.


    Standing in the dining/living room, emotions crawled up his skin, tightening his throat. This was a place of so many bad memories.


    It had been a cold Sunday, like all the others.


    That week, Nick had stolen food for himself and his infant sister¡ªa loaf of bread and two potatoes from the market. He had been so happy for a fleeting moment, but it was destroyed when a homeless man jumped him, beat him up, and stole the food. Bloodied and broken, Nick returned home, crying in front of his sister because he knew she needed it more than he did.


    By Sunday, Nick could barely move. His arms were stick-thin, his ribcage painfully prominent. His skin was bruised, his hair matted. He thought death had come knocking.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    But it wasn¡¯t death. It was his father. He came home with a piece of meat¡ªa rarity so special Nick thought it couldn¡¯t be real. For a brief moment, it seemed like things would turn around.


    Then he saw her. His baby sister, silent. She had stopped crying two days earlier. Nick had tried everything he could, but two weeks without food and poisoned water had been too much for her little body. She was gone.


    A year later, Nick got the chance to ask his mother why she was never there to feed her own child. Her answer?


    ¡°The customers pay more when the boobs are bigger, and they can have a drink.¡±


    Disgusting.


    Nick¡¯s mother had always been like that¡ªchoosing money over everything, even her own children. Maybe that¡¯s why his father hung himself in this very room, leaving behind a sign that read:


    ¡°Just another dead one.¡±


    Nick had fifteen siblings over the years. He tried so hard to save them all, but he never succeeded. One after another, they slipped through his fingers. All except one¡ªhis youngest sister. His mother had finally grown older and taken care of this child. Or maybe she¡¯d simply run out of options.


    Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.


    ¡°Brother?¡± a voice called out, equal parts happy, angry, and sad.


    ¡°Sophie?¡± Nick replied, his voice light with a joy he hadn¡¯t felt in years.


    Her face still looked pure, but her upper body was already shadowed.


    ¡°You¡¯ve grown,¡± Nick said softly.


    ¡°I¡¯ve grown? You¡¯ve grown! You¡¯ve got a beard now¡ªand you¡¯re still so tall!¡±


    It was true. Nick had left when she was four or five, and he was just fifteen. Her memories of him were vague, but she had recognized him instantly. He was now a grown man¡ª1.8 meters tall, far taller than her childhood memories could¡¯ve made him seem.


    Twelve years had passed. Sophie was now sixteen, nearly seventeen. She had inherited their mother¡¯s beauty, but her spirit hadn¡¯t been corrupted. Somehow, she remained pure, not yet wasted away.


    How had she kept her essence?


    Nick doubted their mother had suddenly become a good parent. It wasn¡¯t in her nature.


    He wandered into the small bedroom. The wooden floorboard was still broken¡ªone of many signs of his mother¡¯s neglect. Twelve years, and his sister had to avoid a hole he¡¯d created when he¡¯d stomped too hard in anger before leaving.


    ¡°Sophie and Nick, dinner¡¯s ready!¡±


    Nick froze. He didn¡¯t expect to hear those words. His mother had never made a real meal before.


    Curious, he stepped into the dining/living room and was shocked. There was a table set with meat, vegetables, and sauce. Sauce!


    Still unsure if it was real, he sat down.


    Then, something else caught his eye. His mother.


    She had a golden glow in her body. She had essence.


    Nick exhaled, and the dream shattered.


    There was no meal. No sister. Nothing pure.


    Only black mold. The overwhelming smell of rot.


    And his mother, standing behind him, breath reeking of beer.


    His sister had died here. No¡ªshe had been killed. Like his father and all the others.


    All for his mother¡¯s lust for essence.


    But she couldn¡¯t take his. Not anymore.


    She collapsed. Nick¡¯s face, a mirror of her past, had shattered something within her. Her shadow began shrinking, her essence dissolving. She hadn¡¯t eaten or slept in days.


    Nick stared at this once-human figure and felt nothing but disgust. You can love someone who isn¡¯t there anymore, but you can¡¯t love someone who only exists to hurt you.


    He turned away, leaving her to die slowly.


    Finally, he climbed into the old, moldy bed. It was the only place left for him to sleep.

 The Girl

    Nick awakened after a long, sleepless night. Haunting memories¡ªalways the same ones¡ªkept infecting his mind. The sun rose, and so did Nick.


    He had already spent too much time sidetracking. Letting himself float in his own river of pain wouldn¡¯t help anybody.


    There were no men¡¯s clothes in his old house, so he remained in the dirty ones from yesterday. He didn¡¯t have breakfast either, nor any water to drink.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be a long day,¡± Nick thought to himself.


    He stepped outside into the sunlight. The combination of morning light and older buildings made the sleepy red-light district seem almost melancholic.


    The beautiful glass windows reflected the sunlight. The bushes glowed a vibrant green. Even the narrow alleys with their cobblestone floors seemed pleasant.


    If you didn¡¯t know what a soulless place this would become at night, you could mistake it for just another part of the city.


    ¡°Dabeidu, Laleilu, Swingiligy¡­¡±


    It was the drunk guy whose shadow resembled a blobfish. He sang while stumbling down the street¡ªstill drunk, or drunk again.


    ¡°Got any cash?¡± the man asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Nick answered honestly.


    In the next moment, the man spit on Nick¡¯s shoes and carried on, singing his way down the street.


    ¡°A looooooong day,¡± Nick muttered to himself.


    Nick walked for about ten minutes until he reached the city center. There stood the gothic cathedral, beautiful and imposing. It was nearly 100 meters tall, with two massive towers reaching toward the sky. The central structure housed the largest church in the land.


    ¡°Religion,¡±Nick thought to himself. ¡°They always call themselves pure, but most of the time, they¡¯re no better than the rest.¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    His mentor had searched far and wide, explored every religion, and had been disappointed. He¡¯d held high hopes, especially for the Buddhists, but even they hadn¡¯t reached the level he sought.


    Most religious people, Nick thought, only acted ¡°good¡± because of their faith¡ªfaking every deed to feel righteous. They wanted to ease their minds when they did something bad. Others did good simply for the reward of a better rebirth. In trying to become someone else, they lost their own identity.


    Meditating all day, hoping to become better than everyone else¡ªit wasn¡¯t real. Of course, not every religious person was that extreme; most used faith as a way to feel better, which was harmless. But sadly, it still wasn¡¯t what his mentor had been looking for.


    Nick sat on a bench near the cathedral, watching the shadows move by.


    Shadow after shadow. Nothing changed, except for how much essence each person still had left.


    And then he saw her.  She was about 1.75 meters tall, with shoulder-length brown hair and glasses perched on her small nose. She wore a white coat and a black bonnet, black trousers, and white boots¡ªlike a walking checkerboard.


    Nick didn¡¯t have time to rant about her fashion choices. The fact that he could see her so clearly, so purely, could only mean one thing:


    She hadn¡¯t lost a bit. Not a single shred of her humanity.


    She was still human, surrounded by a world full of shadows.


    Nick jumped up, startling a nearby pigeon into flight.


    He needed to know her. He needed her. But when he looked again¡ªshe was gone.


    ¡°What?¡± Nick looked around in panic. He had just seen a light in the middle of all this darkness, and he¡¯d lost it.


    How could someone be so incompetent as to lose light in complete darkness?


    He ran in the direction she had gone. Nothing. He climbed onto a bench, hoping to see her again. Was he seeing things? Were his eyes playing tricks on him?


    His heartbeat sped up, losing its natural rhythm. He was nervous. He was freaking out.


    That might have been my only chance, he thought. And I missed it.


    His breathing grew shallow, his mind went blank.


    Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!


    ¡°Is everything all right, mister?¡± a small girl asked him.


    Nick snapped out of his trance, slowly pulling himself back to reality.


    ¡°Yes, thanks for asking,¡± he muttered, while the girl¡¯s mother pulled her away from the strange, scary man.


    The unpaved roads of his journey were always hard to walk. But maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªin this town lay the answer to his question. Or perhaps this was yet another wrong path, and he would have to keep traveling further.


    All Nick knew right now was that he had to survive. He had to find that girl.  At least, that¡¯s what he thought until a pair of hazel eyes stared into his soul.  The face as clear as a summer day smiling at him.

 Catacombs

    He was dragged down into the tunnels. He had grown up here but had never ventured below. Like an underground city, the catacombs spread out beneath the real city.


    Once, this was a place where you¡¯d be surrounded by death¡ªskulls filling the empty alcoves, bones scattered across the ground. The smell of rot and, at times, burned flesh stung in your nose, a constant reminder that one day you would end up the same. You would leave the earth, let your body fall back, returning it to Mother Earth.


    What happened to one¡¯s mind, however, was unclear. Maybe nothing at all. But everyone knew the body would decompose, devoured by microbes, its energy redistributed.


    Nowadays, the catacombs were just tunnels. Endless, winding tunnels. Long and complicated. Nick knew he¡¯d never find his way back on his own. He was being dragged along too quickly, barely able to keep up. Corner after corner flew by until, finally, they arrived in a room.


    This room was different¡ªlarger than the tunnels, with ceilings high enough for Nick to stand upright without the fear of hitting his head.


    It felt like a home. A bed sat in the corner, alongside a dining table, bookshelves, chairs, and other odd items Nick didn¡¯t recognize.


    The girl, seemingly unbothered by the situation, flopped onto the bed. She kicked off her boots, stretched her legs, and yawned.


    Nick stood frozen, overwhelmed. Everything had happened so fast: the way she had pulled him from the crowd behind the cathedral, how she had opened the trap door and shoved him in, leaping in after him. Then there was the frantic rush through the tunnels, lit only by the faint glow of the small light she carried.


    Now he stood in her strange underground home, unsure of what to do. Should he sit? Stand? Ask questions? Would she even talk to him? So far, neither of them had spoken¡ªnot even a simple ¡°follow me.¡±


    ¡°Hi,¡± Nick said softly.


    The girl sat up, looked at him, and pointed to her eye. For a moment, it seemed to glow gold. Then she lay back down.


    Nick jumped back, startled. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Scared, like man of death?¡± the girl asked, her voice calm.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Why did you bring me down here?¡± Nick asked, his voice tense.


    ¡°Your eyes,¡± she said. ¡°The way they stared at me, following my steps. You saw something. You reminded me of a man I once knew.¡±


    ¡°What man?¡± Nick pressed.


    ¡°A man who could see straight into your heart,¡± she said. ¡°He could read lies like an open book, watch someone¡¯s life like a film. A man who introduced himself with a name he later abandoned because he believed it dehumanized him.¡±


    Nick¡¯s heart sank. She could only mean his mentor. Saddened by the memory, Nick asked, ¡°And why did he leave you? I know what he saw. So why did he lose interest?¡±


    ¡°Who said he did?¡± the girl snapped, anger flashing across her face.


    ¡°He always followed every lead to find the lost essence of humanity,¡± Nick said cautiously. ¡°And you seem like someone who hasn¡¯t lost anything.¡±


    The girl¡¯s voice softened, tinged with sorrow. ¡°Oh, you think so? But you¡¯re wrong. I¡¯ve lost a lot of my essence. When he realized that, he left.¡±


    Nick frowned, confused. ¡°Then why do I see you so clearly?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you,¡± the girl said.


    She stood and stepped closer, just within arm¡¯s reach. Her eyes closed for a moment, and when she opened them again, they glowed yellow.


    Nick felt something pulling at him¡ªan invisible force, like demonic hands dragging him closer. He couldn¡¯t resist, his body moving forward as if possessed. Closer and closer he went, until he was almost upon her.


    Then, suddenly, she closed her eyes, and the pull stopped.


    Nick staggered back, his skin crawling with goosebumps. Breathing heavily, he stared at her with wide eyes, ready to fight. The girl, however, only laughed.


    ¡°Scared?¡± she teased.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Nick demanded, his voice loud and shaking.


    ¡°People surrounded by darkness will do anything to reach the light, no matter the consequences,¡± the girl explained calmly. ¡°Manipulating shadows is easy when you have light.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re like an anglerfish,¡± Nick said, his voice laced with suspicion. ¡°You¡¯re evil, luring people in. What¡¯s your goal?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid,¡± she replied. ¡°I use it to help people. Your master didn¡¯t like the idea of working with me. But maybe you¡¯ve got the guts to do it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± Nick said cautiously.


    ¡°Alice. That¡¯s my name. Yours?¡± she asked, helping him out.


    ¡°Nick.¡±


    ¡°Decide quickly, Nick. You¡¯ve got until tomorrow at midnight.¡±


    Before he could respond, he found himself outside again. Breathing in the fresh air, he slumped onto a nearby bench.


    He exhaled slowly, watching as his breath condensed in the freezing air. The cold bit at his skin, a stark contrast to the heavy warmth of the tunnels.


    Laying back, Nick closed his eyes. In his mind, he called out to his mentor, asking for guidance, asking what he should do.


    As the world around him darkened and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift, Nick drifted into sleep.

 Near Death Dreaming

    The white rabbit appeared¡ªa fur so fluffy, children could cuddle it all day. But this rabbit was alone and scared. It had no home to warm itself, no food to fill its little tummy.


    Now, it stood there¡ªright in front of him. Its small nose twitched in rhythm with Nick''s heartbeat. Its eyes fixed on the shivering man.


    Red bruises marked Nick¡¯s body. The night cold had taken hold. His hair was a tangled mess, his limbs stiff and unmoving. His fingers and toes seemed to grow bluer with each passing second. Time was slipping away from him.


    Nick was certain he was dreaming¡ªhe just knew it. But he couldn¡¯t wake up.


    His body wouldn¡¯t let him.


    Normally, at this point, panic would set in. He¡¯d try hurting himself or doing anything to snap out of the dream. But this time, it felt calm.


    The rabbit continued staring at him, the cold biting deeper with each second. With no other choice, Nick followed the rabbit.


    ¡°As long as we don¡¯t go down a rabbit hole. I don¡¯t want to be hunted by a sociopathic queen,¡± he joked weakly.


    The rabbit suddenly sprinted through a snowfield outside the town. Keeping track of it was almost impossible¡ªwhite fur against a snowy backdrop. In no time, Nick lost sight of it. He stood in the middle of the snowfield, utterly alone.


    Then, out of nowhere, a door appeared.


    Finally, warmth, Nick thought, opening the door without hesitation.


    Inside was a cozy cabin, wooden furniture filling the space. Nick gasped when he saw the fine china¡ªteacups he had drunk from so often before. And there, sitting in the same chair as always, was his mentor. Only now, there was a second chair.


    ¡°Sit down and have some tea with me,¡± his mentor said.


    Nick didn¡¯t think about sitting. All he wanted was to hug him, to feel his presence again¡ªeven though his mentor was mostly shadow. But before he could act, his mentor¡¯s voice stopped him.


    ¡°You can feel what¡¯s already gone, especially while dreaming. That¡¯s why living while awake is so important,¡± he said in a flat tone.


    Nick wanted to cry. But just being able to speak with him again was enough.  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    They sat together, drinking tea in front of the fire. Yet Nick couldn¡¯t feel the warmth. His shivering worsened, but it didn¡¯t matter to him.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you work with Alice?¡± Nick asked.


    ¡°Time, Nick. Time is the most valuable resource. And I didn¡¯t see her potential as worth my time,¡± his mentor replied.


    ¡°So it wasn¡¯t about her controlling people or her fake purity?¡± Nick asked, his tone edged with frustration.


    ¡°Nick, has the world turned black and white in your eyes? Alice¡¯s ability to control shadows¡ªher essence¡ªis a valuable one. It¡¯s not just destructive. Until now, she¡¯s mainly used it to lock her own shadow into her body, creating a thin layer of essence around herself,¡± his mentor said calmly.


    ¡°How could that possibly be helpful?¡± Nick pressed.


    ¡°Look out the window and tell me what you see,¡± his mentor said.


    Nick sighed, recognizing one of his mentor¡¯s tactics. He glanced outside. ¡°A white snowfield,¡± he replied.


    ¡°And that¡¯s how you see me¡ªwhite, perfect. And everything that isn¡¯t me, you see as black. You¡¯ve been consumed, Nick. Consumed by your own lies, emotions, and the shadows of others.¡±


    Nick wanted to argue, to tell him it wasn¡¯t true. He turned to apologize, fumbling over his words.


    But when he looked back, his mentor was different.


    Standing there, mouth agape, his mentor mumbled in a horrific voice, ¡°Consumed. Consumed. Consumed,¡± over and over again.


    Black insects began crawling and flying out of his mentor¡¯s mouth, swarming around Nick. Shadows emerged from his mentor¡¯s body, like hands reaching for him.


    Nick tried to run, but his feet left the ground. He couldn¡¯t scream; something blocked his mouth. Sweat poured from his skin as his eyes lost focus. His body felt like it was being torn apart by a pain he had never known before.


    A rush of intense cold hit him¡ªcolder than anything he had ever felt. The darkness surrounding him was pure ice, biting and clawing at every inch of his body. The shadows ripped at his skin, relentless and merciless. His body stiffened. His thoughts slowed.


    ¡°My son, what in the name of the Lord were you thinking, sleeping out here in the cold?¡± an unfamiliar voice said.


    Nick¡¯s eyes fluttered open. A man in priest¡¯s clothing stood over him.


    Nick couldn¡¯t speak. His body ached too much.


    A nun handed him water and a warm meal.


    The dream lingered in Nick¡¯s mind the next morning. He had been lucky¡ªfound by the priest, brought into the church, given clean clothes, a blanket, and two warm meals.


    His body was still numb in places, and sleeping afterward had been difficult. The shivering had finally stopped after the second meal, but it took time.


    Even so, one thing was clear to Nick: the dream had told him what he needed to do.


    He had to work with Alice.

 Back to Alice

    Red spots still covered his body. The new clothes scratched against his skin, and a constant feeling of weakness¡ªboth mental and physical¡ªlingered over him. As he wandered out of the church, he felt even more like the lingering shadow he always saw himself as.


    Descending the ladder into the tunnels, the smell hit him immediately. The first time, everything had happened so fast that he hadn¡¯t even noticed the stench. Now it was impossible to ignore. At least it was warmer down there.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t I concentrate?¡± Nick thought, his mind sluggish and chaotic, as if infected by something gnawing at him from the inside. His thoughts tangled into an impenetrable fog, making it impossible to gather the information he needed.


    His eyes jumped from bone to bone, lingering on the skulls staring back at him with an eerie air of judgment. It was as though they saw every mistake he ever made. Talking to him in the voice of disappointment.


    The sudden clatter of a kicked stone snapped him out of his trance. He nearly missed a turn. How long had he been wandering in this haze¡ªhis eyes open but not seeing, his ears hearing but registering nothing? Even the pungent smell of the tunnels had faded into the background of his overwhelmed senses.


    Being so zoned out was rare for Nick. His mentor had taught him to stay fully present, to take in every sensory input and analyze it. It was a technique Nick had mastered, though he hated it. Reality was often too overwhelming: too loud, too bright, too smelly. Walking through the city became an exhausting exercise in absorbing and cataloging every shadow, every movement. But mastering this skill had made him the best at analyzing the flow and patterns of shadows¡ªa talent with few competitors, but not one Nick particularly enjoyed.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Finally, he reached Alice¡¯s room.


    She was still asleep, lying in bed without a care in the world.


    Nick sat down on a nearby stool and waited, his head lowered, his thoughts swirling. He tried to decode his dream, puzzling over why his subconscious had chosen his mentor to deliver such a cryptic message. The answers remained elusive.


    He must have drifted off, because when Alice woke up, she found him slumped in his chair. She smiled. She had always known he¡¯d come back.


    Nick stirred as soon as she moved. He¡¯d always been a light sleeper, waking at the slightest sound¡ªa trait that had often earned him laughter from his partner. He recalled the times he had sat up, muttering nonsense, when someone walked into his room at night and startled his body awake before his mind could catch up.


    ¡°Morning,¡± Nick said, even though it was already well past midday.


    ¡°Morning,¡± Alice replied with a smirk.


    ¡°Watching me sleep?¡± she teased, her tone playful.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t plan to,¡± Nick grumbled, ¡°but I didn¡¯t expect anyone to sleep this long.¡±


    ¡°No need to get snappy. Without windows, it¡¯s hard to tell what time it is. I usually stay awake as long as I can, then sleep until I¡¯m not tired anymore,¡± Alice said defensively.


    ¡°Do you actually do anything important while you¡¯re awake?¡± Nick asked.


    ¡°I write,¡± Alice replied, her tone sharp with irritation.


    ¡°Alright. Then you probably know why I¡¯m here,¡± Nick said, changing the subject.


    ¡°Of course. You finally realized you can¡¯t do anything without me, and now you want me to join you on your grand little journey,¡± Alice said, leaning against him with a smirk.


    ¡°Could you not?¡± Nick groaned, pushing her back. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t phrase it like that, but yes¡ªI need your powers.¡±


    ¡°The shadows always come to the light,¡± Alice said with a grin.


    ¡°Seems so,¡± Nick muttered.


    ¡°So, what now? What¡¯s the plan?¡± he asked, though he already had a perfect one in mind.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to test how good you really are,¡± Alice said. ¡°We¡¯ll go see Jimmy.¡±


    ¡°Jimmy?¡± Nick asked.