Description: I went shopping with my mom, everyone froze, and my mom asked me a strange question, "wanna play a game?
As I walked down the brightly lit aisles with my mother, the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights created a steady, almost rhythmic backdrop. My mother pushed the shopping cart with practiced ease, her focus shifting between the racks of clothes and the ever-growing pile of items in the cart. The faint scent of fresh fabric mingled with the occasional hint of detergent, filling the air.
My eyes wandered over the colorful display of jackets, each one vying for attention. Suddenly, a vibrant Dragon Ball Z jacket caught my eye, its bold design standing out against the more muted tones of the other garments. The jacket seemed to shimmer with the promise of adventure, its bright colors and intricate graphics a striking contrast to the more mundane items around it.
"Mom, can I have that one?" I asked, my voice tinged with both excitement and a hint of hesitation. I pointed at the jacket, my heart racing slightly as I waited for her response.
She glanced at the jacket, her expression softening as she took in the familiar design that had been a part of my childhood fantasies. Without missing a beat, she gave me a reassuring smile. "Get it," she said, her tone both casual and affectionate.
With a sense of triumph, I reached for the jacket and carefully placed it among the other clothes in the cart. The cool, smooth fabric felt comforting in my hands, a tangible link to the adventures and heroes I admired. As we continued our shopping, the jacket seemed to hold a special place in the cart, a symbol of both my mother’s support and my own small victories.
As we left the clothes aisles, the bright, cool colors of the clothing section gave way to the warm, inviting tones of the food aisle. The air was filled with the aroma of fresh produce and baked goods, a comforting mix that hinted at the promise of a satisfying meal. Shelves lined with neatly arranged cans and boxes seemed to stretch endlessly before us.
My mother pushed the cart along with a steady rhythm, her movements relaxed but purposeful. She began selecting items for dinner, her familiarity with the store evident in the way she navigated the aisles with ease.
Turning to me, she asked, "What do you feel like eating, Jamie?" Her voice was gentle, a mix of curiosity and affection.
I weighed my options, mentally sifting through the array of possible meals. Thoughts of savory dishes and comforting favorites raced through my mind until one clear choice emerged. “Can we eat spaghetti with cheese?” I asked, the image of a hearty, cheesy plate of spaghetti making my mouth water.
Her face lit up with a warm, encouraging smile. "Of course," she replied, her tone both affirming and reassuring. As she continued selecting ingredients for our dinner, I felt a sense of contentment, knowing that our meal would be both delicious and a small, shared joy.
After we gathered everything we needed, we made our way to the checkout area. The store was bustling with the usual mix of chatter, beeping scanners, and the soft rustle of plastic bags. We stood in line behind three people and their kids, the line moving at its usual slow pace.
Suddenly, everything stopped.
At first, I didn't notice lost in my own thoughts, but then the silence became unsettling. I looked around, confused by the abrupt stillness. Everyone around me had frozen in place, their actions suspended mid-movement. A mother reached for her child, a cashier’s hand hovered over the scanner, and the children in front of me were caught in mid-laugh, their faces eerily still.
Time hadn’t stopped at least, not completely. I could still see the slight sway of the jacket on my mother’s back, the fabric shifting almost imperceptibly as if caught in a faint breeze. But everyone else was unnervingly motionless, like mannequins in a bizarre display.
My heart began to race, a creeping sense of dread washing over me. Was this some kind of joke? A prank? But there was no laughter, no one snapping out of it to yell "gotcha!" Just the oppressive silence and the frozen figures all around.
"Mom, you okay?" I asked, my voice shaky and uncertain. But she didn’t respond, her eyes blank, staring straight ahead as if locked in a trance.
Panic gripped me as I looked around, searching for any sign that this wasn’t real. But the stillness was absolute, leaving me alone in a world that had inexplicably come to a halt.
Then suddenly, my mom’s head turned slowly toward me. Her movements were stiff, almost robotic, as if something was pulling the strings. "Wanna play a game?" she asked, her voice sweet but tinged with something unnervingly wrong. The smile that stretched across her face was twisted, unnatural, as if someone had forced it there. It wasn’t the warm, comforting smile I knew it was off, unsettling, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with fear.
My heart pounded in my chest, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. "Wha-what is this?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The words caught in my throat as I tried to make sense of the nightmare unfolding before me.
But she didn’t answer. She just stared at me, unblinking, her eyes vacant yet somehow intense, like a doll’s lifeless gaze. The silence stretched on, the tension in the air thick enough to choke me. Every second felt like an eternity, the world around me frozen in a surreal, terrifying tableau.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the children in front of us. He turned his head toward me with the same eerie slowness, his face mirroring my mom’s disturbing expression. His lips curled into that same unnatural smile, too wide, too forced, as if it were glued onto his small face. "Wanna play a game?" he echoed, his voice a chilling mimicry of my mother’s.
A wave of terror washed over me as I realized this wasn’t just my mom whatever this was, it was spreading. The boy’s eyes locked onto mine, just like my mom’s, not blinking, not moving, just staring with an intensity that seemed to pierce right through me. My mind raced, trying to understand what was happening, but all I could think was that this wasn’t my mom. It couldn’t be. Something had taken over her, taken over them. And it wanted me to play along.
With a shaky voice, I forced myself to speak, the words barely escaping my lips. "What happens if I say no?" I asked, my voice trembling, the fear wrapping around my throat like a vice. My eyes darted from my mom to the child, searching desperately for any sign of recognition, any hint of the people they once were. But all I found were those empty stares, their eerie smiles still frozen in place.
The seconds dragged on, each tick of the clock distorted, time itself feeling warped and twisted. I couldn’t shake the sensation that something was fundamentally wrong, as if I had slipped into a place where the rules of reality no longer applied.
"Wanna play a game?" it asked again, the voice coming from my mom's mouth, but it wasn’t really her. The words were the same, but they carried a dark, hollow tone, devoid of any warmth or familiarity. It was like hearing an echo from deep within a cavern, empty and soulless.
Panic surged within me as I debated my next move. Should I say yes? Should I refuse? My mind raced through every possible outcome, but I couldn’t predict what would happen if I denied them. And I was terrified of finding out. The thought of making them whatever they were angry sent a cold shiver down my spine. I just wanted this to be over, to escape this nightmare.
With a shaky breath, I swallowed my fear and whispered, "Yes." The word hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited, hoping praying that this would end, that they would let me go.
But as the word left my lips, a cold realization settled in. I had just agreed to something I didn’t understand, something that felt dangerous and deeply wrong. And there was no turning back now.
Then it tilted its head slightly, its movements unnervingly smooth, like a puppet on invisible strings. "Hide and seek? Truth or dare? Or
Game of 21 questions?" it offered, the same unsettling, syrupy tone clinging to each word. The way it spoke sent a shiver down my spine, each option feeling like a trap, a no-win situation disguised as a simple game.
I sat there, my mind racing as I tried to figure out which game would be the safest. Hide and seek, Truth or Dare, or 21 questions? My thoughts swirled, fear clouding my judgment. Hide and seek seemed like the best choice I could find a spot, stay hidden, and maybe I wouldn’t be found. If I could just win the game, maybe this nightmare would end.
I turned to her no, to the thing wearing her face and finally made my decision. "Hide and seek," I said, my voice trembling slightly.
Her smile didn’t falter; if anything, it grew more sinister, stretching impossibly wide across her face. "Okay," she agreed, her tone dripping with malice. "Now here are the rules: if I catch you before it turns 6:00, you lose the game."
Confusion twisted in my gut as I tried to make sense of what she said. "What happens if I lose?" I asked, the question hanging in the air, heavy with dread.
Her smile grew even wider, her eyes gleaming with something dark and malevolent. "Just don’t get caught," she replied, the words lingering like a threat, her sinister grin never wavering.
The weight of her words sank into me, chilling me to the bone. This wasn’t just a game there was something far more dangerous at play. And the stakes were higher than I could have ever imagined. I didn’t know what would happen if I lost, but her smile told me everything I needed to know: losing wasn’t an option.
As soon as the last word left her lips, she began counting, her face still locked in that sinister, unchanging smile. "1... 2... 3... 4... 5..." The numbers rolled off her tongue, each one sending a spike of fear through me. Without a second thought, I bolted, running as fast as I could out of the store. My heart pounded in my chest, my pulse racing with terror.
The world outside was just as eerie as inside. Everyone was still frozen, caught in mid-action as if time itself had fractured. As I sprinted past, I saw a man, his wife, and their kid standing still as statues. But then, as I rushed by, the man’s head turned slightly, his eyes locking onto mine. "I can see you through everyone," he called out, his voice sending chills down my spine. Without breaking his gaze, he began counting too. "9... 10... 11... 12..." His words faded into the distance as I pushed myself harder, desperate to find a place to hide.
Ahead of me, the freeway loomed, cars still moving along it. I couldn’t tell if the drivers were frozen too, but they kept driving an unnerving sight in a world otherwise paralyzed. I had no choice but to cross. My breath came in ragged gasps as I dodged the oncoming cars, my fear of being hit outweighed only by my need to escape. Somehow, I made it across, my legs shaking from the close calls.
On the other side, I spotted a McDonald's, its golden arches glowing in the dim light. I ran toward it, hoping to find refuge, but as I got closer, I glanced through the window. Everyone inside was frozen, just like the others. My heart sank. How were the cars still driving if everyone else was frozen? The question rattled around in my mind, but there was no time to ponder it.
I remembered the man’s words: "I can see you through everyone." A deep sense of unease settled in my gut. If he could see me, maybe others could too. The McDonald's might have been a trap, a place where I could be easily found. I quickly changed my mind, veering away from the restaurant and looking for a more secluded spot.
My eyes darted around, searching for somewhere anywhere safe. In the distance, I spotted a narrow alley, dark and quiet, far from the main road. It was risky, but it might be my best shot at hiding. Without wasting another second, I sprinted toward the alley, the chilling sound of counting still echoing in my ears as I ran, knowing that the clock was ticking down to 6:00.
I made it to the alley, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The narrow space was littered with shadows, dark and foreboding, but it felt safer than the open street. My eyes locked onto a large dumpster tucked away in the corner, its rusty metal sides offering a grim sort of refuge. I hesitated, my mind racing—should I climb in? It would be a tight fit, dark, and filthy, but it might be the only way to make it harder for them to find me.
With the counting still echoing in my mind, I made my decision. I lifted the heavy lid and clambered inside, the stench of garbage hitting me like a wall. I squeezed into the cramped space, curling up as tightly as I could. The lid closed above me with a dull thud, plunging me into near-total darkness. I tried to slow my breathing, the foul air thick and stifling, as I waited.
Hours seemed to stretch into eternity as I lay there, the sounds of the outside world muffled and distant. My body grew weary, exhaustion creeping in from the adrenaline crash. I fought to stay awake, but eventually, my eyes grew too heavy, and I slipped into a restless sleep, haunted by the lingering fear of being found.
I was jolted awake by the harsh creak of the dumpster’s lid being opened. Panic surged through me as I squinted up, the bright light stinging my eyes. A woman stood above me, her face a mix of shock and concern as she tossed a bag of trash into the dumpster.
"Oh my God, you must be the boy who was reported lost! Your parents are worried sick about you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief. Her words barely registered, my mind too foggy and disoriented from sleep.
One question pounded in my head, drowning out everything else: *What time is it?* I looked up at her, my voice hoarse and urgent. "What's the time?" I asked, my heart racing as I awaited her answer.
She paused, pulling out her phone from her pocket. "It's 5:56," she said, her voice kind but insistent. "Come on, your mom would want to see you."
5:56. Four minutes left. The countdown was almost over. Fear gripped me as I realized how close I was to the end of the game. Every second mattered, and now I had to make it until 6:00 without getting caught. The woman didn’t know what was happening—how could she?—but I knew I couldn’t go with her, not yet.
But how could I explain that? How could I convince her to leave me here, to let me hide for just a little longer? Panic flared inside me as I scrambled to think of a way out, knowing that if I didn’t, I might not survive to see 6:01.
Or was it all in my head? The thought gnawed at me—was this some sort of hallucination, like schizophrenia? The possibilities spiraled through my mind, each more terrifying than the last, but none offering any real answers. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something beyond comprehension, something lurking just out of sight. But with no other options, I decided to go with the woman, hoping that whatever horror I had faced was over.
As we walked together, she glanced down at me, her face now calm and reassuring. "What's your mom's number?" she asked, her tone gentle.
I recited it automatically, "409-445-5456," my voice hollow, still shaken by everything that had happened. She dialed the number, putting the phone on speaker, and we waited as it rang. The sound seemed to echo in my ears, dragging out the tension.
"Hello? Who's this?" My mom’s voice came through the line, and for a brief moment, I felt a flicker of relief.
"Oh, hey, um, I found your son. I'm over at this store across the street from the church," the woman said, her voice steady, normal.
"Oh my goodness, thank you for finding my son! Can you put him on the phone, please?" my mom asked, her voice filled with concern and love.
"Of course," the woman replied, handing me the phone. I took it, my heart lifting slightly as I brought it closer to my mouth. "Hey, Mom," I said, feeling a sense of normalcy, hoping that whatever had happened was now behind me.
But then her voice changed, dropping into that same chilling, sinister tone. "Tag, you're it."
My blood ran cold. "What?" I stammered, confusion and fear crashing over me like a tidal wave. I looked up at the woman beside me, and my stomach dropped.
Her mouth twisted into that same unnatural, creepy smile, stretching wide, too wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth that seemed to go on forever, all the way down her throat. The sight was horrifying, an image straight out of a nightmare. I barely had time to react before I turned and bolted, my legs moving on pure instinct.
I dashed across the street, not even thinking, just trying to get away, to escape whatever horror was chasing me. But in my panic, I misjudged the timing. The blare of a car horn was the last thing I heard before the impact hit me like a freight train. My body was thrown, my mind spiraling into darkness as everything went numb.
I hit the ground, the world around me fading away. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was that unnerving smile, burned into my mind like a scar, and the chilling realization that I hadn’t escaped at all.
Suddenly, I was pulled from the darkness by the rhythmic beeping of a monitor. The sound was steady, almost soothing, as it pulled me back into consciousness. My vision was blurred, but I could make out a figure sitting beside me—my mom. I tried to turn toward her, but pain shot through my body with even the slightest movement.
“Mom?” I croaked, my voice weak and strained.
Her head snapped up, and she was at my side in an instant, her face a mix of relief and worry. “Oh my God, baby, are you okay?” she asked, her voice trembling as she reached out to touch my hand.
“Mom, what time is it?” I asked, the question burning in my mind, needing to know.
She glanced at the clock mounted on the wall above my bed. “It’s 7:21, honey,” she replied softly, her eyes filled with concern.
A wave of relief washed over me, and I let out a shaky breath. “I won the game,” I murmured, the words escaping before I could think.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What game?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
“Nothing, Mom,” I said quickly, realizing she wouldn’t understand. How could she? What I had experienced was beyond explanation, beyond anything that could be easily believed. So I left it at that, burying the memory deep inside.
---
The driver’s perspective:
“OH MY GOD!!” The driver’s heart raced as his car slammed into the boy who had suddenly appeared in front of him. He skidded to a stop, hands shaking as he gripped the steering wheel, the horror of what just happened sinking in. His breathing was ragged, panic settling in his chest. But when he looked up, what he saw made his blood run cold.
In the middle of the street, a woman stood motionless, a grotesque smile stretched across her face. Her movements were unnatural, stiff robotic, almost. The world around her kept moving: smoke from the car's engine drifted in the air, the blood from the impact slowly pooled on the asphalt. Yet everyone else the pedestrians, the bystanders remained frozen, their bodies locked in place as if under a spell.
It was as though time itself hadn’t stopped, but the people had, frozen in some nightmarish tableau. The woman was the only one moving, and she did so in a way that defied logic, her limbs jerking unnaturally as she approached the driver’s side window. The closer she got, the more the dread inside him grew, the realization dawning that whatever was happening was beyond any rational explanation.
She finally reached the window, leaning in close, her face almost pressed against the glass. The smile on her face was impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Her eyes, cold and empty, bored into him, making his skin crawl.
"Wanna play a game?"
