It was on a Thursday that things became rather difficult for Sebastian.
The doctor had called it schizophrenia.
Sebastian didn't hate the word itself. What he hated was how easily it explained everything away. A diagnosis, a prescription, a label that was supposed to make the fear manageable. Something you could treat. Something you could file into a system and pretend it behaved like a normal illness.
But what did you call it when the medication didn't help?
He had tried calming himself down. Blinking rapidly. Closing his eyes. Breathing slowly, counting each inhale and exhale like the therapist had taught him. He had tried pretending nothing was there, that it was all stress, all imagination.
It didn't work.
If anything, the effort only seemed to make it worse.
It was almost like trying to ignore it made it notice him.
And this time, it happened while he was with his friends.
They had just returned from one of their boys-only outings — a tradition born from the collective belief that bringing girls along somehow increased the odds of disaster. It was easier this way. Less drama. Less explaining.
They arrived at the bus station just before evening settled in properly. The sky was still lit, but shadows had begun stretching long across the pavement. The metal bench was warm from the day's heat, and the three of them collapsed onto it, tired but in high spirits.
Well — two of them were.
Sebastian and Alex were laughing so hard they could barely breathe.
Jack was not.
In one of Alex's jokes, Sebastian laughed so hard he started tearing up.
Not full-on crying — just that embarrassing, breathless kind where your eyes water and you can't catch air properly. He turned slightly to the side, still grinning, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his palm.
And that was when he noticed someone sitting next to him.
He hadn't heard footsteps.
Hadn't felt the bench dip.
The smile slipped from his face.
It didn't fall naturally. It glitched. Froze halfway. Twitched. If someone had been watching closely, they would've seen something deeply wrong in that moment — like a mask cracking while the person wearing it was still trying to perform.
He looked up slowly.
The man beside him wasn't the problem.
The problem was what was growing out of him.
From the base of the man's neck, the skin bulged outward as if something beneath it were stretching its way free. A thick, fleshy protrusion had pushed through, slick and unnatural, before coiling around the man's throat like it belonged there. It didn't tear him open. It didn't bleed him dry.
It simply existed.
The growth stretched upward, rising above the man's head — and at the top of it, another head had formed.
Fully shaped.
Grotesque.
Its eyes were too wide. Its mouth was constantly moving. Not speaking in pauses — not breathing between sentences — but talking endlessly. The jaw snapped open and shut at an inhuman speed, teeth chattering so quickly it blurred.
Sebastian couldn't hear words.
But he could see them forming.
His breath hitched.
A small, humiliating whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it.
His legs trembled. His hands vibrated against his thighs. He pressed them down hard, trying to anchor himself.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
Maybe it noticed.
Or maybe it just felt his stare.
The second head stopped moving mid-sentence.
Its eyes rolled downward.
It looked at him.
Not angry.
Curious.
Then slowly — deliberately — it dragged a long, slimy tongue across its lips. From the base of the mouth to the corner. Slow enough to be intentional.
Sebastian's brain fired in a thousand directions.
Don't react. Don't panic. Don't make eye contact. Do something normal. Say something normal. Breathe like a normal human being.
He needed a distraction.
Anything.
And then—
Movement in the sky.
An eagle swooped overhead, wide wings cutting through the late afternoon light. Something small dangled from its talons.
Sebastian almost laughed in disbelief.
Oh thank God.
"Oh my God!" he blurted out, pointing upward as he turned sharply toward Alex and Jack. "Look — a fucking eagle! I think it caught something!"
From the corner of his eye, he saw it.
The thing got excited.
Very excited.
Its jaw sped up again. Its coil tightened slightly around the man's neck. Its shoulders trembled faintly as if vibrating with anticipation.
Jack squinted upward. "Wait, that's actually an eagle."
"No way," Alex stood halfway up. "Bro, I've never seen one this close."
The creature turned its second head upward to follow their gaze. Its entire body shuddered once, then stilled.
Slowly, it turned back to Sebastian.
Still licking its lips.
Still smiling.
And right then—
The bus pulled in.
The brakes screeched.
"Shit, that's ours!" Alex snapped. "Move, idiots!"
Sebastian stood so fast the world tilted for half a second.
As they boarded, he forced himself not to sprint. Not to shove. Not to look like prey.
But he looked once.
Just once.
The second head stared back at him.
Its expression had shifted.
Not rage.
Not hunger.
Disappointment.
As if something delicious had just been taken away.
The bus doors closed.
It didn't move.
It only watched.
Sebastian collapsed into a seat the second he could. His heart pounded violently, sweat dripping down his temple. His breathing came in shallow, uneven pulls.
He felt like he'd just outrun something.
He risked one more glance through the window.
For a split second, their eyes locked.
And even after the bus began to move, even after distance grew between them, he felt it — a prickling sensation at the base of his neck.
Like it was still watching.
His hand rose unconsciously to his chest, pressing against the frantic rhythm there.
Breathe.
Calm down.
"You okay, bro?" Alex asked, noticing the way Sebastian had gone pale.
Sebastian gave a small nod. "Yeah. Just got a little fright."
"The eagle?" Alex tilted his head.
"Didn't know you were scared of birds," Jack added dryly.
Sebastian shook his head and dragged a hand down his face.
"No. Not the eagle." He hesitated, then forced a half-smile. "Schizophrenia acting up again."
His heart refused to calm down.
"Wait," Jack blinked. "You have—"
Sebastian nodded once.
"And what did you see?" Alex asked carefully.
Jack immediately smacked the back of Alex's head.
"You idiot."
"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Alex snapped.
"You're not supposed to ask that," Jack said, irritated. "It reinforces it. Makes it more real."
Alex rolled his eyes. "Since when are you a psychologist?"
"I read."
"Sure you did."
Then Alex looked back at Sebastian, more serious this time. "Is it true?"
Sebastian held their gaze for a moment.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Leave it."
They did.
When he got home, the first thing he did was boil water.
Tea steadied him. It gave him something simple and controlled. Heat. Timing. Measured steps.
He took his medication with room-temperature water, then washed it down with the tea. The warmth spread through him slowly, grounding him just enough.
Upstairs, the house felt too quiet.
His mom wasn't back yet.
Good.
He didn't want to explain the look on his face.
For weeks now, a thought had been circling in his mind.
What if it wasn't a hallucination?
The contract had felt real.
The paper had texture. The ink had weight. He had read it multiple times. Every word made sense.
He hadn't signed it.
He wasn't stupid.
If it was some kind of supernatural slave contract, he wasn't volunteering himself into eternal nonsense.
He sat at his desk, hands covering his face as his computer booted.
Clang.
The sound echoed from the bathroom.
Sharp.
Metallic.
His head snapped up.
His heartbeat spiked instantly.
Slowly, he turned toward the bathroom door.
It was closed.
He stared at it.
It stared back.
He stepped backward first. Distance felt safer.
He reached out and pushed the door gently.
It didn't move.
His breathing grew faster.
He pushed harder.
Still stuck.
Panic crawled into his throat.
He shoved it with force.
The door burst open.
Nothing.
Empty.
Didn't matter.
He bolted downstairs, out the front door, and dropped onto the staircase outside, dragging in air like he'd been underwater.
To all the horror protagonists who calmly investigate noises—
You are braver than I will ever be.
He couldn't stay inside.
He checked his watch.
A few hours to midnight.
The sky had darkened more than he expected.
Walking now felt dumb.
Staying felt worse.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped forward.
A man stepped out from the darkness in front of him.
Sebastian jumped violently and spun to run — but a firm grip caught his shoulder.
"Kid, you okay?"
He froze.
The grip was strong.
Too close for a proper kick. Not enough space for an elbow strike.
His eyes flicked to the man's neck.
Normal.
No protrusion.
He exhaled slowly.
"Yeah. I'm okay."
"You looked panicked," the man said. "Scared me."
He leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"I'm with the police crew. We're short tonight. Asked to tell you to stay inside."
Sebastian blinked. "Oh. Sure."
The man glanced toward the house. "Want me to come in?"
Sebastian studied him.
"Are you allowed to?"
"Yes." He answered a bit quickly.
Sebastian nodded, "sure, come in".
Inside, he made tea at the man's request.
Which he took a sip from his expression melting instantly.
"Kid," he said, impressed, "this is incredible."
Another sip.
"Man… I feel like I'm high."
He straightened suddenly.
"There's no drugs in this, right?"
Sebastian smiled calmly. "None."
The officer sagged in relief. "Then you're the god of tea."
"Thanks."
They talked.
The officer relaxed.
The conversation pun about the other skills had, some included, Sewing, cooking and cleaning. This the officer found hilarious. He ha expected football, or basketball why was all this skills none to do with sport.
They had laughed at some jokes but stopped when the front door opened.
Sebastian's mother stepped in — tired but sharp-eyed, suitcase in hand, police cap tucked under her arm.
"Captain!" The officer shot to his feet, saluting.
She blinked, a surprised expression on her face. "New?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She smiled nodding to him then turned to Sebastian. "You okay?"
He nodded.
Then paused.
"Actually… can I borrow him? I need him to check something upstairs."
She hesitated. "Sure?"
Sebastian smiled and led the officer upstairs.
Cannon fodder.
The officer checked the bathroom thoroughly.
Nothing.
He bent to pick up a fallen brush.
Then stepped out looking confused.
"What did I come up here for again?"
Sebastian allowed himself a small smile.
"Just testing something."
And this time—
Nothing had followed him home.