Chapter 3
2548words
It all started the second weekend of October last year. Friday night after midterms, my three roommates and I decided to throw a small celebration in our dorm. After two straight weeks of hellish studying, we were all going stir-crazy from those damn textbooks.
"Guys, tonight we're cutting loose!" Jason pulled several cold beers from the fridge, waving them around excitedly. "I even splurged on some decent whiskey—guaranteed to make you forget all about those exams!"
"Hell yeah!" Mark shouted, fiddling with the Bluetooth speaker. "Michael, don't tell me you're planning to spend the weekend with your nose in those books?"
I glanced at the pile of textbooks on my desk, then at my roommates' expectant faces, and finally closed my calculus book. "Alright, I won't be the party pooper tonight. But fair warning—my alcohol tolerance is pretty low, so go easy on me."
"Ha! That's what we wanted to hear!" Tommy laughed, pulling another case of beer from under his bed. "Tonight, nobody stops until we're wasted!"
At 8 PM, our little party kicked off. Rock music blasted from the speakers while junk food and booze covered every surface. The four of us huddled around the coffee table for drinking games.
"Here's to surviving those damn midterms!" Jason raised his glass.
"To not getting crushed by our GPA!" Mark clinked his glass against Jason's.
"To finally getting some decent sleep!" I added, raising my glass and downing the whiskey in one gulp.
The liquor burned my throat, but the warm relaxation that followed felt incredible.
Maybe it was because I'd been bottling up stress for too long, or just the relief of being done with exams, but my alcohol tolerance seemed unusually high that night.
"Damn, Michael, what's with the heavy drinking tonight?" Tommy looked surprised. "You usually start slurring after two beers."
"Must be my good mood," I grinned, my words already slightly slurred. "You guys have no idea how stressful these past few months have been... those weird dreams, my parents freaking out... Thank God that's all over now."
"What dreams?" Mark leaned in, suddenly interested.
"Just some weird dreams... but I'm fine now," I touched the wooden rosary around my neck, noticing it felt looser than usual. "Some nun gave me this magic rosary, and poof—no more spooky shit."
"A nun? A rosary?" Jason howled with laughter. "Michael, you can't seriously believe in that superstitious crap! This is the 21st century, man!"
"It's not superstition!" The alcohol made me defensive and loud. "That woman... she was fucking terrifying... beautiful as an angel, but she wanted... she wanted to..."
I suddenly realized I was saying too much and clamped my mouth shut, pouring myself another drink instead.
"Whatever, let's not talk about creepy shit. Tonight is for celebrating!"
The next few hours blurred together. Truth or dare, drinking games, slurred philosophical debates... I lost every challenge and got progressively more wasted. By midnight, the room was spinning around me.
"Dude, you look like shit..." Jason's voice seemed to come from miles away.
I tried to respond but my mouth wouldn't cooperate. My vision doubled, my roommates' faces swimming in and out of focus.
"Just let him crash," Mark said, helping me toward my bed. "He's gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." I felt myself collapse onto the mattress, my body completely boneless. Just before blacking out, I vaguely registered the rosary slipping from my neck as I rolled over, falling to the floor beside my bed. In my drunken state, I had no idea what that meant.
Then the dream began.
This time, the setting was nothing like the eerie white void from before.
I found myself in a cozy campus café, warm yellow light bathing the wooden tables and chairs. The air smelled of fresh coffee while soft jazz played in the background. Through the window, I could see the autumn campus—golden leaves drifting in the breeze, students chatting as they walked along cobblestone paths.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
A sweet, silvery voice broke into my thoughts. I looked up and was instantly captivated.
Standing before me was a girl so stunning she literally took my breath away. She looked about twenty—a typical college student. Her silky golden hair was pulled into a simple ponytail, with a few strands framing her face. She wore a white cashmere sweater with blue jeans and white canvas sneakers—the perfect picture of sweet, wholesome beauty.
What captivated me most were her eyes—deep blue like the ocean, clear as mountain springs, radiating an irresistible innocence. Her skin was flawless porcelain without a single blemish. She looked like an angel who had stepped straight out of a storybook.
"No, please, sit down!" I jumped up and pulled out a chair for her, my heart racing inexplicably. I felt the same nervous excitement as when talking to a crush for the first time.
"Thank you, that's so sweet," she smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. "I'm Anna. And you are?"
"Michael," I replied, nervously rubbing my hands together. "Do you go here? I don't think I've seen you around campus before."
"I'm in the art department. We probably just have different classes," Anna said, her eyes twinkling. "Actually, I've noticed you before. I see you studying in the library sometimes. You always look so focused and intense—it's quite attractive."
I'd never been complimented by such a gorgeous girl before. My face flushed hot as a warm feeling spread through my chest. The alcohol still in my system made me bolder than usual.
"Really? I always thought I was pretty boring... just another bookworm," I laughed, scratching my head. "But you have this amazing presence—you make people feel instantly comfortable."
Anna laughed softly and reached out to touch the back of my hand. Her fingers were incredibly soft and delicate, yet surprisingly warm, like spring sunshine on skin. "Michael, I can tell you've been through a lot lately. School pressure and... other things troubling you, right?"
I was startled by her perception. "Yeah, there were some... weird things happening. But I think they're resolved now."
"Maybe I can help you better," Anna said, pulling an exquisite box from her purse. It was deep blue velvet with intricate gold embroidery—both luxurious and mysterious. "I have a special gift—I create protective amulets that can banish nightmares and shield against negative energies."
I stared at the beautiful box, feeling a rush of emotion. This gorgeous stranger wanted to protect me. The feeling of being cared for nearly brought tears to my alcohol-loosened eyes.
"You'd make an amulet for me? But we've only just met..."
"Some connections don't need time to develop," Anna's voice was gentle as a feather against my heart. "From the moment I first saw you, I knew you had a kind, pure soul that deserves protection. I truly want to help you banish those shadows haunting you."
She carefully opened the box to reveal an exquisite silver pendant. It was shaped like an angel with outstretched wings, each feather carved with incredible detail. The angel's face radiated peace and compassion, the craftsmanship museum-quality.
"I made this myself—it took three months to complete," Anna said, gently stroking the pendant with obvious pride. "But for it to truly protect you specifically, I need to perform a special blessing ritual."
"What kind of ritual?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
Anna pulled out an elegant form from her bag—thick parchment-like paper with intricate lace patterns around the edges, looking impressively official.
"I need some personal information for the soul-binding," she explained with a shy smile. "Only by knowing your real name, birth date, and home address can I inscribe the protective runes specifically for you, allowing the amulet to resonate with your soul."
Between the alcohol and her beauty, my defenses completely crumbled.
The nun's stern warnings, my parents' desperate fears—all vanished from my mind. Before me was only this beautiful, kind woman who wanted to protect me. Why should I doubt her?
"No problem!" I took the form and pen without hesitation. "If this can get rid of those nightmares for good, I'll do whatever it takes."
The form was simple and straightforward:
Name: ____________________
Date of Birth: ________________
Home Address: ________________
Family Members: ________________
I carefully filled in each line.
Name: Michael Patrick Collins
Date of Birth: March 15, 1994
Home Address: 429 Maple Street, Oak Park, Chicago, Illinois
With each piece of information I wrote, I noticed Anna's eyes growing brighter, but in my drunken state, I mistook it for excitement about helping me.
"All done," I said, handing her the form expectantly. "What's next?"
Anna took the form, quickly scanning it with careful eyes. Her face bloomed with a radiant smile. "Perfect, Michael. This is exactly what I needed."
She carefully tucked the form into her bag and stood gracefully beside me. She carried a unique scent—not artificial perfume, but a natural floral fragrance, elegant and intoxicating. I couldn't help but breathe deeply.
"As a token of our first meeting," Anna whispered, leaning close, "let me give you a special blessing."
She gently kissed my right cheek, her lips light as a butterfly's wing, yet the contact sent a shiver through my entire body. When her lips touched my skin, I felt a strange coolness, as though something was seeping into my very blood.
"We'll meet in the real world soon, Michael," she murmured in my ear, her voice sweet and thick as honey. "When I come to you, I'll bring a wonderful surprise. I promise you'll never feel alone or afraid again."
"Really? In real life?" I nearly jumped with excitement. "You'll actually come find me?"
"Of course, dear Michael," she stepped back and winked playfully, a gesture so charming it made my heart skip. "Remember our promise. Soon, very soon, we'll meet in the waking world. And you'll find the gift I've prepared is far more precious than you could ever imagine."
The café scene began to blur, sounds fading away, but Anna's smile and her promise of "meeting soon" remained branded in my mind. I felt myself slowly waking from a beautiful dream, filled with sweet anticipation...
And then I opened my eyes.
Harsh sunlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains into our dorm room, which reeked of alcohol and stale food. My head throbbed like it might split open, and a nauseating metallic taste coated my tongue—textbook hangover. Yet strangely, I felt oddly cheerful, my mind still filled with images of the beautiful girl from my dream.
"Fuck... my head..." I groaned, clutching my temples as I struggled to sit up.
My roommates were clearly suffering too. Jason snored face-down at his desk, Mark was curled around a cushion on the couch, and Tommy had simply passed out on the floor. Empty bottles and food wrappers covered every surface.
I stumbled out of bed toward the bathroom. As my feet hit the floor, I stepped on something hard. Looking down, my blood ran cold.
It was the wooden rosary the nun had given me, but it was no longer warm brown. Instead, it had turned charcoal black! Each bead looked scorched by hellfire, with wisps of dark smoke rising from the surface. Worse still, the protective runes had vanished, replaced by a network of tiny cracks—like a dam about to burst.
With trembling hands, I reached down to pick it up. The rosary instantly crumbled to black powder, sifting through my fingers onto the floor.
In that moment, every detail from last night's dream came rushing back. Anna's angelic smile, that official-looking form, all the personal information I'd so willingly provided...
"Oh God... what have I done... what have I fucking done..." I stumbled backward, collapsing against my bed, my legs too weak to support me.
The nun's warning thundered in my mind: "Your birthday is essentially your soul's true name, and your address tells her where to find your physical body. If she obtains both pieces of information, the consequences would be... unimaginable!"
I'd given her everything. Name, birthday, address, family members... I'd held nothing back. With shaking hands that could barely function, I grabbed my phone and dialed home.
"Hello?" Dad's tired voice answered.
"Dad..." My voice trembled so badly I could barely speak. "I fucked up... I gave her the information... I gave her all my information..."
Dead silence on the other end. Then I heard the phone clatter to the floor, followed by Mom's piercing, terrified scream.
"Patrick! What's wrong? What happened?"
"Mary... Michael... he gave her the information..." Dad's voice sounded hollow, filled with utter despair.
"WHAT?!" Mom grabbed the phone, her voice shrill with panic. "Michael! What are you saying? What information? Who did you give it to? Tell me exactly what happened!"
"Mom... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." I choked back sobs. "Last night I got drunk... the rosary fell off... she came to me in a dream disguised as a student... said she wanted to make me a protective amulet... I thought she was helping me... I told her my name, birthday, address... everything..."
Through the phone came Mom's stifled sobs, then Dad's furious shout: "DAMN IT! I knew this day would come! We should have gone further away back then! Now it's too late!"
"Michael, listen carefully," Mom said, forcing control into her trembling voice. "Pack a bag and get out of that dorm NOW. Don't tell anyone where you're going—not even us! Find somewhere completely unfamiliar to hide, somewhere remote!"
"But Mom," I said, trying to think rationally despite my fear, "this sounds like bad sci-fi. Maybe we should think about this logically... it was just a dream, and even if something supernatural is happening, how could anyone do anything with just basic personal info?"
"You don't understand!" Dad roared through the phone. "That was no ordinary dream! It's part of an ancient curse! Now that she has your true name and location, she has the key to your very soul!"
But as my hangover cleared and my mind sharpened, I started analyzing the situation more rationally. As a college student educated in modern science, I found it hard to believe that basic personal information could hold any mystical power.
"Mom, Dad, listen," I said, taking a deep breath to steady my voice. "I know you're worried, but we need to approach this scientifically. Dreams are just random neural activity during sleep. The rosary turning black could be from material degradation or chemical reaction. As for these curses and supernatural claims..."
I paused to gather my thoughts. "It's more likely a psychological feedback loop. We've been so focused on and afraid of these things that our minds are creating connections between random coincidences. Maybe I should see a therapist instead of feeding into these beliefs..."
"Michael!" Mom cut me off, her voice breaking with desperation. "My son, this isn't psychological suggestion, this is—"
But I'd already decided to face this rationally. No matter how panicked my parents were, I needed to trust science and logic rather than let superstition control my life.
