Turning point 1

I'm not sure. Perh-

She started to answer.

And then the whole world shut itself down.

***

The alarm clock on the table next to your bed kept ringing without mercy until you finally got your hand up from the pillow and turned it off with a simple press of the button. You yawned shortly, and then scratched your belly, trying to remember which day of a week it was. It was Friday, so just one more before weekend.

You stretched your arms and went to the bathroom. Mirrorless insides did not turn your attention, but you were wondering how are you supposed to shave now. After short deliberation you decided to just do other morning routines, and left the razor in it's resting place.

A moderately filling breakfast later you were dressed and ready to go to work. Just car keys in the pocket, wallet, and phone... You looked at it. It was the newest Iphone, but it didn't have any cameras, nothing on the front or back. You dropped your suit case, and started to look around. The windows were black as void, and you realized that there were no mirrors at all in your apartment. Even the phone screen wasn't reflective for some reason.

Then you started to remember that something was very wrong. Your arm wasn't weighed down by the bracelet, and there was no annoying voice in your head. You removed your jacket and shirt, looked at your body. There was no scar from that encounter with Ronald. No other bruises or cuts, nothing. You were strangely calm about it. There was no increased blood pressure, no nervous thoughts. You were acting cold, calculating the next steps. You realized that you were definitely in the wrong place and time. That you weren't supposed to be there, like something ripped you out of your reality and placed in here. You tried shouting, speaking, whispering, but your voice was taken away from you. You shrugged and took a deep breath, thinking that there was nothing you could do about it anyway. Well, with the exception of going out. You moved to the doors, opened them, and...

You couldn't step forward. There was no forward. Just an endless void, black and red, the colors mixing like in the oil painting in the distance. You looked up. Something replaced the sun. It was a spherical, white object, with red lines and green markings, surrounded by bright flames and dark, melted metal, constantly shifting, melting, dancing around each other.

Looking around, you began to notice hundreds, thousands of points in the distance. You decided to focus on them, put a strain on your eyes, trying to reach them. It was easy, like zooming in on the picture. Another strangeness of this world.

You noticed... you. Shirtless, standing in the doors of the apartment. Anxious to go out and take the next step. Looking carefully around, hesitating. In that moment you knew that you were just one of many. That you weren't even a singular yourself, that there was nothing special about you. Infinite versions of you were looking and doing the exact same thing. You were just another grain of sand on the beach of reality.

But there wasn't anything that came with this realization. No panic attack, no anxiousness, no descent into madness. Just acceptance.

You were about to close the doors and go back into your apartment, but you noticed a movement.

The eye on the sky looked at you.

And every cell in your body turned into ash.

***

You were awake again.

You felt a soft warmth under your head. Slight movement as well. Your head was resting on someone's belly. It felt good, it felt safe. It was like everything you ever wanted it to be. You wanted to open your eyes, but the moment you did it, a hand covered them, making you unable to see anything.

"Na-ah, human. You can't look." You heard a female voice inside your head, but different from the one you were used to. This one was like a beautiful orchestra playing at night, like a sound of the wave at the sea, like your favorite tune playing in the distance, all of those things and more. And you loved absolutely every second of it.

"I'm afraid your mind is too fragile to see someone like me."

You closed your eyes again, and she stroke your forehead.

You felt that you can speak again. And so you did.

"My name isn't really possible to speak in your language, but you can call me Agnes. I'm your friendly, neighborhood Eldritch horror."