I was never one to shy away from technology. If anything, I lived for it. The day my uncle sent me the package, I could hardly contain my excitement. Inside was the latest must-have gadget—a sleek, silver wristband that promised to augment my intelligence and physical abilities. “Just a little gift from your favorite uncle,” the note said, scrawled in his messy handwriting. I never questioned the oddity of it. I didn’t even think to ask why he was so generous, especially since he rarely remembered my birthday.
The wristband fit snugly on my wrist, shimmering with a faint blue light that pulsed in time with my heartbeat. The instructions were simple: “Wear it for a week and unlock your true potential!” I grinned at the thought of being the smartest kid in class. I’d ace every test, run faster than anyone on the track team, and finally show up those jocks who thought they were better than me. Little did I know, I was about to plunge into a world far darker than any of my sci-fi games.
The first few days were exhilarating. I breezed through homework, finished math tests in record time, and even scored a personal best in track practice. My friends noticed the changes and began to praise me, but with each compliment, I felt an odd sensation creeping in. It was as if the wristband was feeding off their admiration, growing more intense, its glow brighter. I brushed off the feeling. After all, I was becoming something incredible.
But then came the nightmares.
They started off subtle—strange dreams filled with shadows and whispers, always lurking just outside my view. As the nights wore on, the dreams morphed into something more sinister. I’d wake up screaming, drenched in sweat, the shadows creeping from the corners of my mind into reality. Every night, I saw a figure—a tall, elongated silhouette with elongated fingers and gleaming eyes that seemed to see straight through me.
I ignored the warnings, convinced I was simply experiencing the side effects of the wristband. After all, I was achieving everything I’d ever wanted. But then the changes escalated.
My body began to feel… different. I was faster and stronger, but there was a strange numbness in my fingers, like I was losing sensation. My thoughts became sharper, but they came with an unsettling clarity—fragments of voices I didn’t recognize, speaking to me in a tongue I could barely understand. The device, once a source of pride, now felt like a parasite, burrowing deeper into my skin with every passing day.
The day it all spiraled out of control started innocently enough. I was in the school cafeteria, surrounded by friends, when I felt a surge of energy through my body. My hand flew out, knocking over a tray of food. I barely registered what happened until everyone turned to stare at me. I laughed it off, but something inside me snapped. It was like I was a puppet, and the strings were being pulled tighter. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.
“You need to free us.”
I didn’t understand. Free whom? Panic flooded my mind. I raced to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall. I glanced at my reflection. My eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and the veins around my temples were pulsing with an unnatural glow. I gripped the edges of the sink, desperately trying to calm myself, when the voice returned, more demanding now.
“Join us.”
My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. I had to tell someone. I stumbled into the hallway, heading for the principal’s office. But just as I reached the door, everything went black.
When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed, a strange beeping sound filling the air. A doctor stood over me, his expression unreadable. “You’re awake,” he said, and relief washed over me. But then he leaned in closer, and his eyes glinted with something I didn’t like. “We need to talk about what happened.”
Confused, I tried to piece together the last few days. I remembered the voices, the wristband, the changes… but then a new realization washed over me. The doctor was staring at my wrist, at the glowing wristband, and his expression twisted into something I couldn’t place.
“You’re not just augmented,” he said, his voice low. “You’re a vessel.”
Before I could process his words, the door burst open. Several men in white coats rushed in, their eyes wide with fear. They grabbed my arms, pulling me up. “We need to restrain you!” one of them shouted.
“Restrain me? Why?” I screamed, panic coursing through me. That’s when I noticed the mirror on the wall. My reflection stared back, but it wasn’t just me. There were multiple faces merging with mine, their eyes swirling with darkness, voices overlapping with my own.
The realization hit me like a brick. I wasn’t just using the technology—I had become part of it. The wristband wasn’t a device to enhance me; it was a gateway, a means for something else to take control. I had opened a door I never should have touched, and now I was the conduit for something far more powerful than myself.
As the men wrestled me down, I felt the whispers take hold, filling my mind with thoughts that weren’t mine.
“Let us out,” they urged.
And as the world around me faded, I realized I was no longer just a teenager. I had become a host—one of many—and they weren’t just augmented. They were waiting to be unleashed.
