Chapter 1

The clock ticked away in the background, a bit of white noise for the uncomfortable silence. Aaron looked idly around the room, avoiding the eyes of his therapist.

"I haven't blacked out for almost a year now," Aaron said, smirking just the slightest bit.

"Well, that's good," the therapist said. She looked on expectantly, as the silence slowly filled every corner of the room. She sighed. "Aaron, I can't do anything for you unless you tell me…"

"I had the nightmare again." Aaron's eyes slowly drifted to the ground, and his smirk melted into a frown. The therapist shook her head.

"Aaron, we've been over this. We've thought of all the interpretations we could think of for that dream, and they haven't helped at all."

"I know. It's just that they're starting to feel more and more real…"

"I'm sorry, Aaron, I just don't think we're going to get anywhere by going down this path again."

"But…"

"Aaron, don't forget that were trying to solve your issues from the past, not idly dwell on them."

"I know." Aaron sighed, and dropped his eyes.

"Now, if that's all you came here for, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave. I have other patients waiting." Aaron looked darkly at his therapist, stood up, walked to the door, and grabbed his coat.

"Thanks anyway," he said quickly, and stepped through the door. He stood in the waiting room, resting his head against the therapist's office door. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. He opened his eyes slowly, and let them drift down from the spot on the ceiling he had arbitrarily been staring at, taking in the stark white ceiling and wall. His eyes came to rest on a macabre painting on the opposite wall. He contemplated looking away at first but for some reason decided to keep his eyes on it. He looked at the subtle contours of the simple, wooden frame; the dark outer edges of the painting, the forlorn faces of the subjects in the painting, their dark and empty eyes, the large dark figure in the background, the light shining from behind the figure. He started taking slow steps towards the painting, and began to notice a small symbol in the light. He didn't know why but he knew that he had seen the symbol before, and he felt that he even knew what it meant. He reached out his hand as the light behind the figure in the back seemed to grow brighter. He felt that if he could just touch the symbol, he could forget all his problems. He wanted to touch it. He needed to touch it. His hand got slowly closer, the light growing slowly brighter.

"Excuse me, sir!" Aaron shook his head slightly, as if emerging from a daze, and turned to face the receptionist who had just spoke to him. She looked back at him somewhat crossly, and pointed back at the painting. He turned and realized that she was pointing slightly below it at the "Please Do Not Touch" sign. He turned back to her, keeping his eyes down, muttered a quick apology, then walked out of the office.

He walked quickly to his car. He opened the door and climbed in, then closed the door behind him. He sat and sighed, letting the silence of his car slowly seep through his entire body. He had always found silence calming. He slipped his key into the ignition, and started the car. He pulled out of the parking spot, and took off.

Aaron drove home, lost in his own thoughts. He almost missed the turn for the small apartment building where he lived. He parked his car in the tiny driveway and climbed out. He slowly walked up the steps of the front porch, then climbed the steps up to his apartment. He lazily pulled out his keys and opened the door.

The silence of his room washed over him, and he bathed himself in it, enjoying the calm it brought to him. He closed the door behind him to shut out all other noises. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the silence and privacy. He looked at the clock on the VCR. It was only seven, but he felt excruciatingly tired, and decided to just get some sleep. He took off his jacket, pulled off his shirt, slipped out of his jeans and walked into the bathroom. He took a long, warm shower, feeling the water run over every part of his body. His muscles were sore, for the fact that he hadn't gotten much sleep in months. He was doing better according to his therapist, but he still felt that he had accomplished nothing with all of their sessions. He was still haunted with the nightmares, with the visions. He had been haunted by them since he was a little boy, and could never seem to escape them.

Aaron pulled himself out of his daze, finished his shower, walked into his bedroom, and climbed into bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling. He wanted to sleep but was unnerved at the thought of having the nightmare again. He eventually fell into a fitful, nightmare-free sleep.

The next morning, he woke up into his normal morning routine. He hated monotony but knew there was nothing he could truly do about it. He had to make money, and, to do that, he had to work. He didn't mind his job, but he wasn't particularly excited to go.

He finished getting ready, grabbed his coat and keys, went down into his car and drove off.

"Aaron, you're late—again." His boss never failed to meet him at the door with the same words, and he never failed to walk past him with a muttered apology, to get right to work.

"It's restocking day, Aaron…and it's your turn to do it." Aaron sighed. While restocking gave him some silent time alone, he didn't much care for it. He trudged to back of the store, where he knew he would find the piles of new products. He pushed the door to the overstock room open, and looked up. Confusion drifted onto his face. The room was completely empty. No overstock in sight. He stood for a minute, not exactly sure what to do. He wasn't sure if his boss didn't know, or was trying to make some sort of statement. He angrily turned back and threw open the door.

Suddenly, Aaron felt a familiar sensation. A sensation he knew so well. The same tingle he would get whenever he walked into his apartment. Silence. Absolute silence. A silence that took over everything, and filled every inch of the store. It didn't startle Aaron at first. The store was usually very empty. But as he walked closer to the front of the store, he became more and more unnerved.

The silence was deafening. He couldn't even hear the usual din of the store. He didn't hear his boss idly moving around, trying to look as important as he could. And as he crept slowly forward, he couldn't even hear the quiet hum of any of the machines. All he heard was silence. As he reached the front of the store, he grew more unnerved. It wasn't that he couldn't hear his boss. His boss was nowhere to be heard.

"Hello?" He yelled to the emptiness of the store. No answer. "Hello?" He tried again, getting the same response—silence. His eyes slowly scanned over the entire store. His mouth quivered slightly in fear. His hands slowly searched for the front counter. The silence—his silence—was beginning to frighten him. And he began to realize that it was not simply the silence. What was truly frightening him was that the store had absolutely no signs of life. It seemed as if no one had been in the store for years. His hand brushed through layers upon layers of it. His eyes grew wide as he looked through a haze of dust. He stood there, unsure of what to do.

He jumped as he heard a high-pitched shrieking sound to his right. He turned quickly in fear, but only found a small, handheld radio. A radio that was emitting a high-pitched shriek. He quickly reached for it and tried to shut it off. For some reason, he felt worried that it was bringing attention to him. From what, he didn't know. He just knew that he did not want it to come. He began frantically shaking the radio, hitting it on his palm, and slamming buttons.

He was so drawn in by the radio that he didn't notice the shadow that was slowly falling over him.

The shriek from the radio was beginning to grow almost unbearable. Aaron finally grew frustrated and slammed the radio against the counter. As the sound of the radio hitting the counter reached his ears, Aaron heard the window behind him shatter. Before he could turn to see what it was, he felt something very heavy hit his back, and a very sharp pain in his neck. He shut his eyes with pain as his body hit the floor. He opened his eyes, and stared in absolute terror at his own body being mauled by a gigantic—something. His vision began to swim and he felt himself growing lightheaded. He felt the muscle in his face begin to tense up, freezing his face with a look of terror. He blacked out, his bloody mangled corpse being the last thing he would ever see.