"Tonight is the night," a man said, gazing at the sky on that cold winter evening.
It seemed he was waiting for someone. But the streets stretched empty as far as his eyes could see.
"Already thirty minutes past our agreed time!"
As strange as it sounded, waiting for someone at midnight in these deserted streets had felt wrong from the start.
"Maybe they fell asleep," he muttered, picking up his bag—filled with supplies for what should have been a celebration. A celebration that now appeared to be canceled.
The man started walking, definitely furious.
After a few minutes, the dead silence began creeping under his skin. He felt something watching him. Then, worse—something crawling over him.
Such feelings weren't uncommon on lonely winter nights, but never to this extent.
Eventually, he walked past a bridge. There, in the oppressive silence, he spotted the first person he'd seen all night.
An astrologer—though he appeared to be sleeping.
But any human company was what Lex needed at this moment. He gently touched the astrologer's shoulder, trying to wake him.
The astrologer opened his eyes. "I'm sleeping right now. Please go away."
Lex wasn't one to bother people unnecessarily, but he was honestly frightened by his situation.
"Please, just a few minutes."
The old man finally sat up. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Lex, his gaze holding a strange mixture of surprise and curiosity.
"Do you believe in life after death?"
That was the first question the old man asked. The question itself seemed absurd given their current circumstances.
Lex didn't think much of it—he needed any conversation he could get. And what else would you expect when talking to an astrologer?
"No, I don't believe in life after death."
"Very well then..."
The old astrologer did something with his crystal orb, the kind astrologers usually kept with them.
"Oh, I see," the old man said.
Lex could already tell the old man was doing nothing but pretending.
"You seem to have arrived at the wrong place, son."
"You were about to meet up with your friends, weren't you?"
The old man's words sent chills down Lex's spine. His breath grew heavy.
"How did you know?!"
The old man's voice sharpened. "This is not the time for that!"
"Take this! Take it!" His voice rose even higher as he thrust something toward Lex.
"Now—kill yourself," he said, handing him a knife.
"Wait, are you crazy??" Lex recoiled, unable to understand the situation.
But the next words from the old astrologer were the most terrifying thing Lex had ever heard.
"Please listen. They're watching you."
"Who? Who's watching me?"
The cold breeze grew heavier. The metal structures near the bridge began producing an unsettling resonance.
Lex's eyes widened as realization dawned.
"Here they come," the old man whispered.
And there they were—distorted figures of human beings. Once seen, they would haunt your nightmares forever.
Lex took a step backward.
"Who are these people?"
"Don't play innocent, Lex."
The figures began approaching slowly, step by deliberate step.
"Now, if you want to live—kill yourself!"
This time, Lex acted without hesitation. He felt trembling pain surge through his body as he stabbed himself, again and again, until everything went dark.
---
And then the world turned normal again.
He saw the figures of his companions approaching through the shadows. He saw all of them. But he didn't want to greet them at all.
They were all wanted criminals, celebrating their escape from prison.
Lex had never wanted this life. His desperate financial situation had forced him into it.
He left his bag behind. His companions started calling his name, but Lex didn't stop. He wouldn't.
He walked back through his vision, remembering the faces of all the people he'd seen. Those distorted faces were the result of his own actions—faces he could never forget.
He kept walking, alone, until he reached the bridge again.
"What are you, old man?"
"You do realize those were your victims?"
"I do," Lex said quietly.
"They could have approached you faster, but they chose not to."
Lex gasped. His eyes filled with tears of regret. He fell to his knees.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, wiping away his tears.
"Those were innocents. They deserved justice. And now they've seen what they wanted to see."
"But who are you, old man?"
The old man said nothing. He simply disappeared before Lex's eyes, leaving him staring at empty air in disbelief.
That night, Lex learned something he would carry forever.
[Next few chapters will cover the story of the distorted figures, the victims of lex]