BIZZ BIZZ!!
The sharp ringing of the alarm clock tore through the silence as the morning sunlight filtered through the glass windows, bathing the room with it's radiant glow.
A young man rubbed his head, still feeling the overwhelming weight of exhaustion over his head.
"Ugh, five more minutes..."
His room was a mess—crumpled tissues and empty rolls scattered like remnants of a restless night.
Fixed directly in front of his bed, a 50-inch television set stood like an imposing sentinel, its sleek black frame gleaming in the dim light of the room, beneath it, a sea of scattered papers sprawled across the floor, each one a forgotten fragment of fleeting thoughts and unfinished tasks.
His door was locked throughout the night, so interruptions from outside his sanctuary was automatically blocked.
"Mason! Breakfast is almost ready! Come and get it before you'll be late for school!" A loud voice announced from downstairs, it was his mother.
There was no response.
Just silence.
"Mason?"
CLICK CLICK!
As his mother approached his room, the sharp click of his mother's heels echoed up the stairs, each step a looming warning in Mason's ears.
KNOCK KNOCK!
"Mason? Are you still sleeping by this time!? It's 9am! Open this door before I knock it down!"
His eyes snapped open, wide with the terror of a child who had just seen a ghost.
"Fuck!" He swung his legs off the bed and sprang into action, gathering all the crumpled tissues around his bed frame and hurriedly flushed them down the toilet.
He unplugged his smartphone from the TV, swiftly closing the questionable paused video that had cast a faint glow across his bed.
In his haste to clear the papers beneath the TV, one document stopped him cold, its contents grabbing his attention.
"What!? My Prazzers subscription has expired!? How!? It's not even the end of the month!"
"Mason!"
He quickly stacked the papers, shoved them into the TV's drawers, and slammed it shut with a sharp thud.
Swiftly, he unlocked the door and swung it open just before his mother could force her way through.
He ran a hand through his tousled black hair, stifling a soft yawn with his palm.
"Good morning mom."
His mom — Selena Harris, was a woman in her late 30s, her presence striking with a natural confidence.
Her features were outstanding, framed by soft waves of dark hair that cascaded past her shoulders, blue eyes that caught the soft glim of the moonlight.
She wore a short nightgown that hugged her tightly at her streamlined waist, and highlighted her curvaceous butt.
She craned her neck into his room, her eyes scanning every corner. It wasn't as messy or chaotic as it used to be, and to be honest, she was surprised.
But she was no fool.
"Hm, your room looks more cleaner than usual, anything wrong?"
"No, so it's now a crime to have my room look this tidy? You must not rate me at all."
Selena chuckled softly, knowing he had no clue that she'd been aware of his 'Nightly activities' for some time—hiding it now seemed utterly pointless.
"Not at all, I guess it's normal for kids to grow up when they've reached a specific age."
A smile crept up the corner of her lips.
"You don't need to keep reminding me mom."
"Happy 16th birthday." She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, her embrace so intense it was almost suffocating.
"Thanks, mom. Do you think I'm finally going to awaken this year?"
"Whether you awaken or not, you'll still be my most beloved son, spirit caster or not." She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead gently.
"Now go get ready for school, breakfast is almost ready." She released him from her grasp and made her way back down to the kitchen.
"That was close."
As he closed the door, his eyes were instantly drawn to the mirror mounted at its center, reflecting his pale, unsettled expression.
Mason Harris was a sixteen-year-old boy with jet-black hair, a pair of sharp, gleaming black eyes, and a tall frame that stood at five feet eleven inches.
As he admired himself in the mirror, what stared back wasn't his own reflection—it was a woman's. She had crimson eyes, flowing blonde hair, blood-red lipstick, and a chilling smile that stretched far too wide across her face.
He blinked several times, stunned by the reflection before him. For the past two months, he'd been plagued by strange dreams, and at the heart of each one was the same woman that stared back at him from the mirror.
As his flustered open once more, it was his own reflection he saw this time.
"Damn it, why do I keep getting this dreams."
His gaze settled on a tube of lotion resting on the desk across from his bed.
It was practically his best friend at this point.
His hands trembled at the thought of it, he fell asleep before he had a chance to conclude his nightly sessions.
"No." He fought the tension as he was already late for school, but that didn't matter when it came down to his satisfaction.
"Today's my birthday, it's not everyday I turn sixteen, so I'll make it extra special tonight!"
As he approached the bathroom door to get ready for school, a tingling sensation settled in his chest, he breathed heavily, as though the air itself had thinned.
He staggered and dropped to his right knee, gripping the edge of his desk for support as the room seemed to tilt around him.
"W-what's happening to me..."
All of a sudden, it stopped.
His breathing steadied, and the tingling sensation faded away so fast it was as if nothing had happened at all.
"What was that?" He pressed his palms to the sides of his head. From his perspective, it felt like a headache, sure his head was spinning, but the other symptoms didn't quite add up.
"I must have had such a good time yesterday that my body's still feeling the electric effect. I knew I made the right choice purchasing that oil."
He shrugged it off as just a normal headache as he was already late for school. Stepping into the bathroom, he emerged moments later, dressed in his white shirt, black tie, and black sweater vest, feeling ready to face the day.
His pants were slightly darker in tone, complemented by a pair of polished black shoes that gleamed just enough to catch the light.
"Alright."
After finishing his breakfast, he grabbed his bag and headed straight for school.
————————————————
It was another boring day in school, it was the same as usual, lecture after lectures for hours.
Mason rested his chin in his right palm, eyes half-lidded, as the teacher's marker squeaked across the whiteboard.
He had few friends in school, largely due to his obsession with women who had big thighs and voluptuous figures, which made it difficult for him to interact with them in a normal way.
As the teacher droned on with his monotonous lecture, Mason's eyes fluttered shut, the exhaustion from a late night finally taking its toll.
As he closed his eyes, he hoped to slip back into his fantasy world—one filled with sultry daydreams of alluring women and forbidden desires.
But.
He found himself in a vast, dark void—not the steamy dreamscape of half-naked prazzers models he always longed for, but face to face with something far more sinister… something unholy.
Glaring into his soul was a shadowy entity, its massive red eyes glowing like embers, and two towering horns curling menacingly from its head.
"So we finally meet, descendant of Malrium."
Its voice rumbled through the void like a distant storm, each word sending icy tremors down Mason's spine. His breath was caught in his throat, and his heart pounded violently as the entity's distorted, malevolent tones echoed around him.