Tero moved swiftly and silently. He carried no weapons, nothing to cause physical harm. His way was quieter, far more terrifying. He didn't need to spill blood. He simply took something else. He took their fear, their life force, everything that made them them.
It was as if he devoured their nightmares, growing stronger with each ending.
Tero's face remained blank, unreadable. Their fear I can almost taste it. He felt the last echoes of their nightmares disappear. It is done. The dreamers are silent. The threats are gone.
He faded back into the darkness. "Another nightmare will rise soon," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
"The dreaming mind always calls me," he added, a chilling truth in his quiet tone.
Tero walked between two worlds: the solid ground of reality and the shifting sands of dreams.
Later that day, the TV news showed quick, fleeting reports. "A woman was discovered deceased in her apartment this morning. Authorities indicate the cause of death appears to be a sudden heart attack." On another channel, a reporter stood outside an apartment building. "A man collapsed on his way to work earlier today and tragically died. Medical professionals are citing a severe stroke." Then, a brief mention on another channel: "An elderly patient at St. Zaki's Hospital passed away during the night. The official cause of death is listed as natural causes."
Detective Davies leaned back in his worn chair, rubbing his weary eyes. "Three deaths in one night," he muttered to his partner, Mina. "Heart attack, stroke, old age. No apparent link."
Mina frowned, her gaze scanning the reports. "It's odd, though, isn't it? Three people who seemed relatively healthy or at least, not on death's door all gone in a single night."
Davies sighed, the weight of the city's problems settling on his shoulders. "Just bad luck, I suppose. Happens all the time in a city this size." He stood up, needing the jolt of caffeine. "Anything else on your desk?"
Mina hesitated, her eyes glued to one of the reports. "There's just one thing the nurse at St. Zaki's mentioned something strange about the elderly patient before he died."
Davies froze, his hand hovering over the coffee pot. "Strange? What do you mean, Mina?"
Mina leaned closer, her voice hushed. "She said he was screaming about spiders right before he went silent."
Davies stared at her, the thought of coffee forgotten. "Spiders? What are you suggesting?"
Just then, his phone vibrated with an incoming notification. It was a new report. "Another one, Detective," the voice on the other end said, sounding stressed. "A young man found dead in his bed. The neighbors heard him screaming about being burned alive."
Davies's blood ran cold, a shiver crawling down his spine. He looked at Mina, his eyes wide with a dawning horror. "This isn't just bad luck, is it?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Something something else is happening."
"Something's not right," Detective Davies muttered, his eyes darting between the seemingly unrelated files. "These deaths. they feel wrong, Mina. Deeply wrong."
Sergeant Mina leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed. "Wrong how, Davies? The reports are clear. Heart attack, stroke, natural causes. Separate incidents, as far as we know."
Davies tapped a finger insistently on Sarah's file. "Her sister mentioned something. Nightmares. Falling. Said it felt so real, she'd wake up gasping for air, terrified."
Mina shrugged, a dismissive wave of her hand. "Bad dreams, Davies. Happens to everyone. Stress, bad food, too much TV before bed."
"Dan, the second victim," Davies continued, his voice rising with urgency as he flipped to the next file. "His neighbor mentioned he was having terrible dreams of fire. Woke up screaming, they said."
Mina raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Coincidence, Davies. People have nightmares. It doesn't mean anything sinister."
The "something else" is clearly the work of Tero, a supernatural entity who preys on people's nightmares, turning their deepest fears into reality and ultimately causing their deaths.
Davies moved to Thomas's file, his brow furrowed. "And Thomas his nurse said he was petrified of spiders. Not just a little scared, Sergeant. Paralyzed with fear. They had to sedate him just to calm him down."
Mina pushed herself off the doorframe, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "Okay, that is odd. Nightmares of falling, fire, and spiders? What are you thinking, Davies?"
"I don't know yet," Davies admitted, his gaze intense, as if trying to piece together a broken mirror. "But there's a link here, Mina. A thread I can feel, even if I can't quite grasp it." He leaned closer. "Did any of them know each other? Any connection at all, no matter how small?"
Mina shook her head slowly. "Nothing in the initial reports. Separate lives, different circles, different parts of the city."
Davies sighed, a heavy breath escaping his lips. "Then it's the dreams. It has to be." He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the linoleum floor. "I need to dig deeper. Find out everything about their nightmares. The specific details, the feelings they described."
"Dreams, Davies?" Mina sounded deeply skeptical. "You honestly think their dreams somehow killed them?"
"I don't know what I think," Davies said, grabbing his worn coat from the coat rack. "But I know this: Sarah fell from a ladder she used every day without issue, according to her family. Dan's heart gave out with no prior history of problems. And Thomas he died peacefully in his sleep, the nurses said. No spiders in sight." He paused at the door, his eyes locking with Mina's. "Something is weaving these nightmares together, Sergeant. And I have a bad feeling about what happens when the dream ends."
Tero faded into the city's shadows,
the cool brick a familiar comfort against his intangible form, a silent observer once more.
Below, the metropolis pulsed with the rhythm of slumber. He closed his eyes, not needing sight to perceive the swirling currents of the dreamscape. A soft, almost reverent sigh escaped his lips. "Ah, the city sleeps," he murmured, his voice a low caress against the night air. "Such a vast garden of fear, waiting for my tending." A slow smile spread across his face, a hint of teeth glinting in the darkness. "How many will invite me into their minds tonight, I wonder? How many fresh terrors await?" His gaze, though unseen, seemed to pierce the veil of sleep. "And what exquisite nightmares shall I cultivate for the dawn?"
The anticipation was a sweet poison on his tongue. "Yes," he breathed, the city lights reflecting in his unseen eyes. "The night, as always, promises a rich harvest." And which nightmares will bloom into tomorrow's silence?