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“Well, Wyatt,” I say, offering a reassuring smile, “you have the tools and the support you need. Remember, it’s okay to lean on your network, including our sessions, whenever you need it. Where are you being stationed anyway? Will we have to work out online sessions?”
He shrugs. “They say nearby.”
Nearby? There aren’t any fights near here as far as I know. This place isn’t some active war zone. What does he mean by nearby? How close? I narrow my eyes at Wyatt. “Okay, well you just let me know once you’re settled. We can make arrangements then, okay? Be it online or in person still.”
He nods once more, determination in his eyes. “I will, doc. Thank you for always being there.”
As our session comes to a close, I’m left with a sense of hope and admiration for Wyatt’s unwavering spirit. He faces a delicate balancing act between his duty and his mental well-being, but I’m confident that he possesses the strength to navigate this challenging journey, armed with the resilience he’s cultivated and the support he continues to receive.
I smile, watching him go, my heart aching for him a little bit. Wyatt is a unique kind of trouble, the good kind. He’s funny, intelligent, and, well, undeniably sexy. I’ve convinced myself that my attraction to him is nothing more than a manifestation of my innate desire to help people through their tough times. And most of the time, I can almost believe that’s the whole truth—almost.
But there are those moments, the ones that catch me off guard, when our eyes meet, and there’s an undeniable spark. It’s in those stolen glances and lingering touches that I can’t help but wonder if there’s something more between us, something that goes beyond friendship and empathy.
Something that I definitely can’t explore while working with him…
Anyway, I don’t think it’s anything real, just my bored mind taking me off on adventures. With my son, Ryan, off at college, I often find myself feeling adrift in life. It’s not that Ryan and I ever had a particularly close bond—although we were inseparable when he was young—but the moment he hit thirteen years old, it was as if he’d flipped a switch and decided that avoiding me was the order of the day. Teenagers, I suppose…
I’ve tried my best to respect his space and independence, and as a result, I’ve ended up self-soothing by taking an unnecessary interest in Wyatt. One that’s just a bit of fun, that’s all. So much so that as I leave the office and I head back home, I find my maternal instincts are kicking into overdrive. Something about this mission doesn’t quite feel right.
He’s hiding something, I tell myself as I sit at my dining room table with my laptop open in front of me. There’s something odd about this.
I know it’s wrong. Looking through Wyatt’s private life outside of sessions is definitely something I shouldn’t do. But if he’s in trouble, then I should know about it, right? Then I will be able to help him more.
If I just look up military operations happening nearby then maybe I’ll be able to find something to either put my mind at rest, or to see if there’s something I can help with.
My initial searches yield little more than the standard news articles and official statements, all describing the mission in the volatile region. Frustration gnaws at me as I sift through page after page of mundane details. I begin to wonder if there’s something more to this mission that Wyatt hasn’t disclosed.
Then, in a moment of sheer serendipity, I stumble upon a cryptic link buried within the depths of the web. It’s an inconspicuous, back alley website, devoid of any official markings or affiliations. A shiver of intrigue courses through me as I click on the enigmatic link.
The page that unfolds before me is unlike anything I expected. It’s a bizarre amalgamation of conspiracy theories, folklore, and ancient legends. Among the jumble of words and images, one phrase captures my attention like a siren’s call: “The Rift.”
As I read further, I’m drawn into a labyrinthine world of esoteric knowledge. The Rift, it claims, is not just a volatile region in the modern sense, but a place steeped in ancient lore, a tear in the fabric of reality itself. It’s described as a gateway to other realms, a realm of unspeakable horrors, and a place that has been shrouded in mystery for centuries.
I can’t help but feel a sense of unease as I read about the supposed malevolent entities that are said to lurk within The Rift, creatures that defy description and reason. The website provides fragmented accounts of encounters, each more unsettling than the last.
One account tells the story of a group of explorers who ventured near The Rift, guided by a reckless curiosity that some might call fool hardy. As they approached the ominous tear in reality, the air grew heavy with an unsettling energy. The group’s leader, a seasoned adventurer named Jonathan, described how the very fabric of space seemed to warp and twist before their eyes.
They didn’t have to wait long for the first encounter. Emerging from the depths of The Rift was a creature so grotesque and otherworldly that even the most vivid imaginations could scarcely conjure its likeness. It was a mass of writhing tentacles and eyes that seemed to stare into the very souls of those who gazed upon it.
Jonathan’s account speaks of the paralyzing fear that gripped the group as the creature approached. It exuded an aura of palpable malevolence, a darkness that seemed to seep into their very beings. It was as if the creature fed on their fear, growing stronger with each passing moment.
In a desperate bid to escape, the explorers fled, but The Rift seemed to defy the laws of space and time. No matter how far they ran, they couldn’t shake the relentless pursuit of the abhorrent entity. Jonathan’s account grows increasingly frantic as he describes how the creature’s influence began to warp the minds of his companions, driving them to madness.
They were eventually saved by the intervention of a mysterious figure, a cloaked and hooded stranger who possessed knowledge of ancient rituals. With a gesture and incantations that seemed as old as time itself, the stranger banished the entity back into The Rift, sealing it once more.
The account ends with Jonathan’s haunting words: “We were lucky to escape with our lives, but the scars on our souls will never heal. The Rift is a place where nightmares become reality, and those who venture too close risk losing not only their lives but their very sanity.”
As I read this chilling encounter, I can’t help but shudder at the thought of what might lie within The Rift, and I’m left with a growing sense of dread about the ancient and malevolent forces that Wyatt’s mission may inadvertently unleash. If this is even what he means… but since this is the only volatile place nearby, I can’t imagine it’s anything else…
Unless we’ve gotten our wires crossed, of course. Maybe nearby just means that he’ll still be in the country, but that he can’t tell me anything more.
My rational mind urges me to dismiss this as nothing more than the ramblings of conspiracy theorists, but a nagging feeling persists. The coincidence of discovering this lore while researching Wyatt’s mission feels too eerie to be mere chance.
I continue to read, my fingers typing away, bookmarking the website and saving snippets of information. It’s as if I’ve uncovered a hidden layer of reality, a secret realm that exists alongside the world I thought I knew….
Just as I’m about to dive deeper into my investigation, there’s a sudden knock at my door. I’m taken aback, not expecting any visitors at this hour. I rise from the desk and tip toe over towards the door, unsettlingly nervous, although I don’t know why. When I open the door, a tall man with long dark hair and even darker eyes stands before me.
“Hello?”
