Dream
Deep in the heart of a dark forest, the sound of children laughing and playing echoed through the trees. But suddenly, a terrifying creature cloaked in shadows emerged. It looked like something straight out of a nightmare. The children screamed as it moved closer.
BANG!
The dream shattered.
A loud voice called out,
"Cuco! Wake up! It's eight o'clock! You're going to be late for school!"
Cuco sat up with a jolt, his clothes soaked in sweat. His heart pounded in his chest. He could still see the forest, the monster, the terrified children... but one thing burned clearly in his mind—a glowing mark on his hand.
As he rushed out the door, heading to school, the dream clung to him like a fog. It felt too real. Too vivid.
At school, his friend leaned over and whispered, "You had the dream again, didn't you?"
Cuco blinked. "How do you know?"
"You've had that dream for ten years," his friend said quietly. "But this time... something feels different."
Before Cuco could respond, the teacher walked in.
"Everyone sit down. Class is starting!"
Cuco tried to focus, but his eyes kept drifting to his hand. The mark—it was still there. Faint, but glowing. His friend noticed too.
"That's the mark," he murmured. "I saw it in my dream last night."
After class, Cuco pulled him aside.
"What's going on with us?"
Before his friend could answer, another student approached. It was Linux, captain of the basketball team.
"Cuco, the big game's in two weeks. We need you at practice."
Cuco hesitated. "I... I don't know if I can. Something strange is happening."
"You're part of the team," Linux said, frowning. "You can figure out that weird stuff later."
A classmate nearby chuckled.
"Come on, Cuco. Don't go losing your mind over some dream. Basketball's what matters."
Cuco looked down at the glowing mark on his hand, then back at them.
"You don't get it. Something is coming. And I think... it's coming for me."
---
After school, Cuco walked home slowly. The sky was heavy with clouds, and a cold wind whispered through the trees, making them shiver and creak.
He kept glancing at the mark. It was glowing again—faint, but alive.
Suddenly, he stopped.
He felt something.
He spun around—nothing.
The street behind him was empty. Silent.
But he knew—he wasn't alone.
---
That night, Cuco couldn't sleep. The wind outside rustled the leaves like whispers in the dark. At midnight, he sat up in bed. The mark on his hand pulsed, glowing brighter now, like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Then he heard it.
A low, guttural growl, drifting in from the forest behind his house.
Cuco froze.
The sound was the same—exactly like the one from his dream.
He grabbed a flashlight and crept out of the house. The night air bit at his skin. The forest loomed ahead, darker than ever, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.
He stepped in.
The deeper he went, the louder the growling became. Shadows moved between the trees, quick and silent. Something was watching him.
Then—he saw them.
Two glowing eyes, staring straight at him from the darkness.
The beast from his dream stepped out.
It was real.
Cuco wanted to run, but his legs felt frozen. The beast growled again—and the mark on his hand erupted with light, burning like fire.
Then, a voice echoed inside his head:
"You are chosen. You must remember who you are."
And everything went black.