The entire night was boring and silent.

It was absolutely pouring with rain and thunder and lightning outside, so you were forced to stay inside of your home unless you wanted to face the wrath of all mighty Zeus or whatever...

The only thing interesting that was on the TV was an interview of a man.

Job Zamperini. The man was explaining how his grandson supposedly took a photograph of something called PHEN-228...or, more commonly called, "The Boiled One" standing next to a small playhouse in his backyard.

Hundreds of others even said that The Boiled One's appearance was in their minds, tormenting and taunting, which left them distraught.

One said the face was living in his mind, feeding on his spine. While another recalled hearing trumpets before they fell asleep. Where are these victims now? Well, they're in a pseudo-coma, leaving them completely unable to move their body, except for their eyes.

The entire case sounded..fake. False. Untrue. This was the first time you've ever heard of this...thing.

Maybe the government made it up? No...what would be the point? A social experiment? Some kind of preparation for a world breaking disease or apocalypse?

But then again...you have heard trumpets faintly playing in the background right before you go to bed...maybe it's just some late night performance at the local school for its band kids or whatever..

...Hopefully.

All your thoughts suddenly slapped out of your head as that...that thing...PHEN-228...interrupted the broadcast and began speaking.

" Upon end times, you will hear the laughter of thousands alongside trumpets playing their happy sound as the scalding blood life pours down from an opening in the sky. "

..What the fuck??

You thought what that thing was saying would be over...until it had one last thing to say.

" Forever, I'll see you. "

It felt targeted. As if it was speaking to you specifically..but then again, many others who were watching this broadcast must've seen it..