TOM BOLTON
I felt weightless, floating in an endless sea of light. It was like I was in the clouds, the air around me so soft and pure, it felt like I wasn't even breathing.
I blinked, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
Where was I?
Suddenly, I heard a howl. It was distant, echoing in the strange place I found myself in.
I frowned, confused.
"I-is that... a wolf howl?" I whispered to myself, unsure if I was imagining it.
I looked around, but there was nothing but the bright, endless light. I couldn't even tell if I was standing or floating. Was I... dead?
"Am I dead already?" I asked, my voice trembling.
But just as those words left my lips, I heard something. A voice, soft yet clear, cutting through the silence.
"No, not yet. You will still live."
I froze.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
The voice replied, calm and distant.
"We are your ancestors, Tom."
Ancestors?
I didn't recognize the voices. They weren't familiar to me at all. My heart raced, and a chill ran through me.
"Ancestors?" I echoed, trying to understand. "I don't know you. I've never heard your voices before."
The voices seemed to pause for a moment before continuing.
"From now on, you will receive our mystical inheritance."
Mystical inheritance?
What the hell?
I furrowed my brow, trying to process what they meant.
"What mystical inheritance?" I asked, my voice shaky.
"Wii know soon."
The silence returned, leaving me with nothing but my own thoughts and the strange, unsettling feeling that something had just begun.
Suddenly, I woke up.
I was still on the floor, but everything felt... different.
I tried to push myself up, and to my shock, I didn't feel the pain I expected.
My body felt... fine, completely fine.
In fact, I felt better than ever.
I looked down at my hands and my arms, expecting bruises or marks from Gerald's beating. But there was nothing. No signs of pain, no bruises, nothing.
It was like nothing had happened.
What the hell?
I stood up slowly, trying to make sense of it. I wasn't sure what was going on, but it felt like I was... stronger.
Stronger than I had ever been.
I stumbled into the bathroom, needing to see myself. The mirror reflected my face, but something was off.
My eyes.
They were glowing—green.
I blinked quickly, confused, and the glow disappeared, leaving my eyes their normal brown.
I stared at myself, breathing heavily. What was going on with me? I touched my face, trying to calm myself down. My mind was racing.
But then, something else hit me. My senses—everything felt sharper, clearer. I could hear the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, the distant sound of a car engine from outside. I could even smell the soap I used in the bathroom.
I shook my head, trying to clear it.
Was this real? Or was I just... losing my mind?
But no, I could feel it. I felt strong, like I could take on anything. My body... it was different.
I seat on the edge of the couch, my mind still reeling from everything that had happened.
Then, I felt it again—this strange pull, like something was coming.
My phone lit up, and the name I saw made my heart skip a beat.
It was Sir Ken, my mentor.
I hesitated for a moment, not sure what to expect, but then I picked up the call.
"Hello?"
Sir Ken's voice came through harsh and angry. "Tom!"
I stood up straight, feeling a sudden rush of nerves. "Sir Ken? What's going on?"
"You need to come back to the hospital. Now."
I frowned, confusion filling me. "But Sir, I took the day off for my birthday. I requested a leave."
Sir Ken didn't care. His voice was sharp, laced with irritation.
"I don't care about your birthday. I just found out you've been accused of plagiarizing Gerald's medical plan. They're saying you stole it, and now you're facing demotion!"
Demotion?
The words hit me like a slap across the face.
"What? That's not true!" I nearly shouted, standing up.
"I don't care what you say, Tom. The evidence is against you," Sir Ken snapped. "Get to the hospital, and we'll figure this out. But you're in serious trouble!"
I could feel the panic start to rise in me. "Sir, I didn't do it. I swear, I didn't plagiarize anything."
But Sir Ken was unyielding. "I don't have time for excuses, Tom. You're going to have to face the consequences. You should've been more careful!"
I tried to hold my ground. "Sir, I didn't do it. I've been working hard. You know me, I would never mess something like this up."
But Sir Ken wasn't listening. His tone became colder. "You've made a mistake, and now you need to deal with it. Just get here, and we'll talk. Right now!"
The call ended, and I was left standing there, stunned.
What just happened?
Sir Ken, my mentor, my boss, had refused to listen. His stern refusal made me feel small and helpless.
I stared at the phone in my hand, my heart racing.
Was this really happening?
The accusations were false. I knew it, but Sir Ken didn't seem to care. He was more concerned about the consequences than about hearing the truth.
And then I remembered the words that had echoed in my mind since I heard them: Gerald.
Could Sir Ken be protecting him?
I knew Gerald had a way of getting ahead—he was ruthless, manipulative, and always had his eyes set on making others look bad.
This wasn't the first time we'd clashed, and I had a gut feeling he was involved in this.
My fists clenched in anger.
I needed to clear my name, but first, I had to get to the hospital.
This wasn't over.
I would endure this for now, but I would find a way to prove my innocence. I wasn't going to let Gerald win.