The Missing Boy

Chapter Nine - The Return of Simon

The night after the ritual in the woods had been eerily quiet. Alex and Ethan sat together in Alex's room, both of them lost in thought. The faint hum of the town outside was the only sound that broke the silence, but it did little to ease the tension between them. They had barely spoken since witnessing the group's ritual. The weight of what they had seen lingered like a fog over their minds.

Ethan tapped his fingers nervously against the table, while Alex stared blankly at Simon's journal, the cryptic entries still haunting him. They both felt on edge, waiting for something to happen. But nothing could have prepared them for what came next.

It was well past midnight when a soft knock on the front door shattered the stillness. Alex frowned and stood up. He wasn't expecting anyone. As he approached the door, a sense of unease settled over him, like an invisible hand gripping his spine. Ethan followed close behind, the tension in the air palpable.

When Alex opened the door, his breath caught in his throat. Standing on the doorstep, his face pale and gaunt, was Simon.

But something was wrong.

Simon's once vibrant eyes were hollow, almost vacant, and his skin had an unnatural pallor. His clothes were dirty and torn, as if he had wandered through the wilderness for days. He said nothing at first, only staring at Alex with a distant, haunted gaze.

"Simon?" Alex's voice wavered, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he couldn't move. He didn't know whether to pull Simon into a hug or step back in fear.

Ethan, equally stunned, stood frozen behind Alex. Neither of them could comprehend what they were seeing. Simon had been missing for weeks, presumed dead. And now, without explanation, he was standing in front of them—changed, altered in ways they couldn't fully grasp.

"Alex..." Simon finally spoke, but his voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse and broken. He glanced between the two of them, as if trying to make sense of their presence, but his gaze quickly turned distant again.

"What happened to you?" Alex asked, his voice trembling as he stepped aside, allowing Simon to enter. Ethan remained by the doorway, his eyes fixed on Simon, as if afraid that the moment he blinked, Simon would disappear again.

Simon didn't answer. Instead, he walked slowly into the room, his movements stiff and unnatural, like a puppet on strings. He sat down on the edge of the couch, staring at the floor, his fingers twitching in his lap. The eerie silence between them grew, filled only by the sound of the ticking clock on the wall.

Alex and Ethan exchanged a glance. Something was deeply wrong. This wasn't the Simon they knew.

"Simon, where have you been?" Ethan asked cautiously, stepping closer. "We've been looking for you. We—"

Simon's head jerked up suddenly, his eyes locking onto Ethan's. "They're coming," he muttered, his voice shaking with fear. "They... they're always watching. Watching and waiting. You... you can't stop them."

Alex's stomach tightened. "Who's watching? Simon, you're not making any sense."

"They told me things," Simon continued, his words tumbling out in a feverish rush. "Things I didn't want to know. They showed me what's coming... but I can't... I can't stop it." His hands trembled violently, and he gripped his head as if trying to keep his thoughts from spilling out.

Alex felt a surge of panic. Simon wasn't just disoriented—he was unraveling. He glanced at Ethan, whose expression had shifted from shock to deep concern. "What's going on, Simon? What did they show you?"

Simon let out a shaky laugh, one that sent a chill down Alex's spine. "It's all connected. The town, the disappearances... it's all part of something bigger. You wouldn't understand. None of you would."

His words became more jumbled, nonsensical riddles that left Alex and Ethan more confused than before. The spoke of shadows that whispered in the dark, of entities that moved between worlds, of rituals that opened doors no one should ever open.

Alex's heart ached as he watched Simon crumble before his eyes. The boy he had once known—awkward, quiet, but kind—was now a shell of his former self, lost in some dark, twisted reality that Alex couldn't comprehend.

"Simon, please," Alex whispered, kneeling in front of him. "You're back now. You're safe. We can help you."

Simon's eyes flickered, as if he were trying to focus on Alex, but the haunted look never left. "No one's safe, Alex," he whispered. "Not anymore."

A lump formed in Alex's throat. He wanted to pull Simon back from the brink, to make him see that they could fix this, but Simon's words cut through him like a knife. Simon wasn't just physically changed—his mind had been fractured by whatever he had experienced.

Ethan, standing nearby, was visibly shaken. "Simon... do you remember me? Do you remember us?"

For a brief moment, Simon's gaze softened. His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but then his eyes clouded over again, and he shook his head slowly. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters."

As the night wore on, Alex found himself torn between relief and despair. Simon had returned, but in what form? Was this truly the same person, or was he just a hollow version of the boy Alex had once loved?

The guilt weighed heavily on Alex's shoulders, crushing him. If he hadn't ignored Simon's pain, if he hadn't pushed him away... would any of this have happened? Could he have stopped Simon from falling into this dark spiral?

But now wasn't the time for guilt. Now was the time for answers.

"What happened during the ritual, Simon?" Alex pressed his voice urgent. "What did they do to you?"

Simon flinched at the word "ritual," his hands gripping his arms tightly. He muttered something incoherent, his voice low and trembling. "The ritual... it wasn't supposed to go that way. It wasn't supposed to... they took me. Took everything. But it's not over. It's never over."

As the tension in the room grew unbearable, Alex could feel Ethan's eyes on him, watching every move he made, every word he spoke. The jealousy that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally bubbled up, clouding Ethan's judgment.

"Alex," Ethan said quietly, pulling him aside. "I don't know if we can trust him. He's... he's different. What if this is all part of something bigger, something we don't understand?"

Alex shot Ethan a sharp look. "He's Simon. He's still Simon. I won't abandon him, not again."

Ethan sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I know, but we need to be careful. We don't know what he's been through. He might not even know what's real anymore."

But Alex couldn't accept that. Simon was back, and no matter what had happened, no matter how broken he seemed, Alex was determined to save him. Even if it meant risking everything.