It was night at the beach, and the beach had finally settled into a tranquil hush. The waves rolled in gently, their soft crashes the only sound breaking the stillness. A cool breeze whispered across the shore, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea and the distant cry of gulls resting somewhere beyond sight. The moon hung low and full above the horizon, casting a silver glow across the water, making it shimmer like scattered stars.
Will sat at the top of an abandoned boat, its wood faded and cracked by years of sun and salt. From his perch, he watched the tide move in slow rhythm, the shoreline glistening under the moonlight. The beach was empty, save for the scattered shells and driftwood left behind by the day. It was his favorite time—when the world seemed paused, and for a brief moment, everything felt still, safe, and untouched.
Weighed down by the pain of losing his mother and the mystery of a father who vanished without a trace, life had grown unbearably lonely for Will. By day, he worked a humble delivery job just to make ends meet, but by night, the beach became his refuge—a quiet place where the world felt still and he could breathe, if only for a while.
With no one else around, as usual, Will sat in silence, his eyes fixed on the moon and the gentle movement of the waves.
He rose to his feet and began walking toward the ocean, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his hoodie.
As he reached the spot where the waves rolled in and out, he exhaled deeply, letting the cool breeze wash over him.
Will gazed at the moon, marveling at its silent beauty. For two years now, this had become his quiet ritual. Ever since his mother passed, he had found a strange comfort in the night sky—almost as if the moon had become his confidant, drawing him closer to the quiet wonders of nature.
His quiet gazing continued, until the night stirred. A strange ripple moved across the sky—subtle at first, then undeniable. The moon, once his sole companion, was forgotten as his eyes locked onto the eerie distortion overhead. The stars seemed to dim, the clouds trembling like something was trying to break through. Will's breath caught in his throat. He had never seen anything like this before.
And then, a magical opening tore through the sky, unlike anything ever seen or spoken of before. Will stared at it, his face etched with a mixture of surprise and confusion, unable to look away.
And just then, something began descending from the heavens with incredible force and blinding speed, tearing through the sky like a blazing comet. Will's eyes widened in shock as he realized it was heading straight for him.
Instinct took over—he turned and bolted from the spot just as the air around him trembled with power.
A strange hum filled the atmosphere, and shimmering sparks danced in the wind, as if the sky itself had split open to release this celestial force. Whatever was falling wasn't ordinary—it was magical, ancient, and meant for something far greater than he could yet understand.
Will was thrown to the ground by the sheer force of whatever had just descended from the sky. A powerful gust of wind surged past him, rippling through the air with a deep, resonant hum.
The strange object still unseen and unnoticed by Will—struck the earth with a thunderous impact. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos ceased. The skies, once torn open by light and fury, slowly returned to their calm, star-strewn state, as if nothing had ever happened. The world held its breath in eerie silence.
Will walked toward the spot where the object had landed. It wasn't hard to find—right where he had been standing moments before, the ground was torn open, a fresh crater dug deep into the earth as if something powerful had struck it from above.
When he got there, he looked down—and to his surprise, it was just a stone. Confusion crept across his face. Something so small couldn't have caused such a powerful impact. But then again, there was nothing natural about this to begin with, he thought as he slowly reached for the stone.
As he reached out and picked up the stone, a wave of whispers flooded his ears—soft, eerie, and in a language he couldn't understand. At the same time, strange markings began to spread across his skin like glowing tattoos, winding around his hands and arms. Startled and frightened by the voices echoing in his mind, he dropped the stone instantly. But the markings did not vanish—they remained, etched into his flesh as if the stone had left behind a part of itself.
Will left the beach at once, running all the way home and leaving the stone exactly where it had landed. Bursting through the front door, he slammed it shut behind him. The house was silent—he lived alone. Without turning on the lights, he made his way to his room and collapsed onto the bed, his mind racing. Maybe it was all in his head, he told himself. Maybe what he had just witnessed was nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
But his peace was short-lived. Without warning, something shattered his bedroom window, crashing through the glass and landing with a heavy thud at the far end of the room. Heart pounding, he sprang to his feet and hurried over—only to find the very same stone he had fled from at the beach.
The whispers he had heard at the beach returned—only this time, they were louder, more intense, echoing through the room like a haunting chant. But Will didn't run. Instead, he stepped toward the stone, drawn to it. As he moved closer, the strange tattoos on his skin began to glow once more, pulsing with a faint, otherworldly light.
Will immediately sensed the presence of someone else in the room. He turned sharply, his breath catching—there, near the shattered window, stood a figure. Motionless. Watching. His face was hidden in shadow, completely unseen.
Will froze.
The room, once dim and familiar, now felt like a place he no longer recognized. The air had shifted—heavier, colder, as though reality itself had bent inward. And there, just beyond the foot of his bed, stood the being.
Cloaked in absolute black, it looked as if it had stepped through the cracks between dreams. Its robe moved with a life of its own, edges trailing like drifting smoke, untouched by the stillness of the air. No footsteps. No sound. Just presence—unnerving and undeniable.
Its face was hidden deep within the shadows of its hood, a darkness so complete it seemed to swallow light. Yet Will felt eyes upon him. Eyes that saw more than flesh. Eyes that knew.
In its hand, the being held a staff—tall and gnarled, as though carved from ancient bone or petrified wood. At its tip sat a shard of crystal, the same eerie glow as the stone Will had found on the beach. It pulsed once… then again… and with it, the tattoos on Will's arms responded—flickering with dim, matching light.
The silence pressed in.
This thing—this figure—had not broken through his window or walked through the door.
It had appeared.
Uninvited. Unannounced. As if summoned by fate itself.
Will couldn't speak. Couldn't move.
The being tilted its head slightly, and in the silence, Will heard a voice—not aloud, but inside his own mind. A voice that echoed from some place far beyond the walls of his room.
"You touched the stone. You are marked."
And with that, everything Will thought he knew about his world unraveled.