Ticci-Toby Rewrite

## Ticci-Toby Rewrite by Doros70

(Ticci-Toby was created by Kastoway)

A car drove down a busy road in the middle of a major city. The young blonde haired girl behind the wheel concentrated on avoiding the cars in her way. It was happening again.

"God damn it! This is all your fault!"

Even though she was focused on the road, she'd occasionally take a glance in the rearview mirror to look at the man in the backseat. She wanted to see if he was proud of what happened. The man who sat right behind her was named Vince. He appeared to be middle-aged and looked the part: nearly overweight, a square jaw with a stubble, and short, graying hair. He seemed cautious and somewhat displeased. He looked over at the boy beside him, who was hunched over partially and held his chest with one arm. He appeared to be in his late teens and had short brown hair. There was a small drop of blood dripping from his nose, but he didn't seem to be suffering. He looked calm and unsurprised to go to the same hospital.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the car stopped at the hospital's parking lot. Vince and the girl accompanied the boy to the ER, and they stood by him the whole time he was checked by the doctor, who had an unsurprised look on his face.

After a checkup, the doctor turned to the family and said,

"Well, it appears that two of his ribs are bruised, but I'll need to evaluate him further to see if there're any other injuries."

The doctor then looked at the boy and gave him a puzzled look.

"Toby, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened to you this time?"

The boy, apparently named Toby, was about to give a quick answer, but stopped himself when he noticed his father's eyes focused on him. The doctor didn't seem to notice. Vince was staring past his brown eyes, straight through him, sending a cold chill down his spine.

Toby looked at the doctor and said the first excuse that came to mind.

"I fell down the stairs," Toby responded, hoping that his lie wasn't too obvious.

"You're one big magnet of injuries, aren't you, Mr. Rogers? First was your run-in with the football team, then you slip on a pile of gravel, and now this?"

What the doctor just listed were a few of the many lies Toby told whenever he got hurt. Toby felt a little guilty for deceiving the doctor, but he had no choice. He didn't want to risk making things worse.

"What can we do, doctor?" Vince asked in an unsurprised and mildly annoyed tone.

"Well, bruised ribs are normally very painful, but since your son's unable to feel anything, there's not a whole lot I can do. As of right now, he needs to rest and occasionally put some ice."

A few minutes later, Toby and his family left the hospital and got back in the car. If it wasn't for this "condition", maybe Toby would've gotten a fuller answer from the doctor. One of the challenges he had to face was growing up with a rare disease that made him numb towards pain. He never felt getting hurt. If he had an arm chopped off, he'd feel nothing.

A life without physical pain may sound great to a lot of people, but the condition was an absolute nightmare to Toby. He lost count on how many times he went to the hospital needlessly, and there were more times when he injured himself without even knowing it.

However, the disorder helped him hide a terrible truth: his father would use him as a personal punching bag for releasing his pent-up frustration. Ever since the abuse began, Vince always made sure that his kids would keep quiet about it. And for over a decade, it worked. Vince would frequently get drunk and beat his family for ridiculous reasons. Toby's sister, Lyra, would usually step up to defend her brother.

Even his wife, Connie, threatened on more than one occasion to call the cops on him, and did, but they never showed up. One night, about five years ago, Connie had enough of Vince and drove off to the city to make the report herself, but once she left, she never returned. This worried the children immensely, but this only caused Vince's drinking problem to get worse.

Because of his alcoholism, Vince never managed to stick to a proper job for more than a few weeks. He would occasionally return home drunk and frustrated after a failed job interview and take out his frustration on his own children. The reason why the house wasn't foreclosed was that Lyra took matters into her own hands when it came to earning money. She was a hardworking young woman and did everything she could to provide for whatever was left of her family. She lied about her age in the past to get higher-paying jobs so she could pay the bills. She was the only one who could keep her brother's optimism alive and always offered him any kind of support.

But that day, she finally reached her limit. She was working almost every day without any kind of help, while her father spent her hard-earned money on cheap drinks, and her brother was getting beaten in an environment he couldn't escape from, unaware if his injuries were serious. She decided that that night would change everything.

She waited for Vince to fall asleep, got out of bed, and quietly walked over to Toby's room. She gently opened the door and moved towards her brother, who was sleeping in his small bed. Once she was close enough, she shook Toby awake.

"Toby, get up," Lyra whispered.

"Wha...? Lyra? What's happening?" Toby asked, cracking his eyes open.

"There's no time," she continued. "Get dressed. We're getting out of here."

"Where're we going?"

"I'm sorry, Toby... I should've done this a long time ago, but I'm putting an end to this."

When Toby got dressed, Lyra took him to the garage, slowly opened the door, and took Vince's car. As the car pulled away from the house, Lyra looked in the rearview mirror to make sure that her father wasn't following them.

Before he knew it, Toby was sitting in the front passenger seat, and the house vanished in the distance. The road seemed to stretch on forever, and the landscape combined with the faint twilight gave Toby a feeling of serenity. Toby looked ahead and saw the forest's entrance, and soon enough, the surroundings were full of deep green pine trees, making the road darker.

As the car drove through the forest, Toby turned his head to Lyra with an unsure look on his face.

"If we do get rid of dad, what do you think's gonna happen to us?" Toby asked.

"What do you mean?" Lyra inquired.

"I mean... I only turned 18 a few days ago, you're older, and high school's gonna end soon for me. Do you think we'll be separated? I don't want that to happen."

"I don't know, but what matters now is getting that prick as far away from you as possible. Once he's out of the house, you won't be suffering anymore."

There was a short pause before Lyra continued.

"Honestly, for the longest time, I secretly hoped he'd change, but every time he put his hands on you, my hopes have dwindled. I tolerated him for too long, and I'm sorry about that."

"I understand, Lyra... Thank you for doing this."

Lyra looked at Toby for a moment and smiled at him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, resting his head back. He almost couldn't believe that his childhood was wasted on suffering because of one person, but now he knew that those years of abuse and tension were about to end. It felt unreal, yet cathartic...

That feeling of hope and freedom was soon interrupted the moment Toby opened his eyes. He saw something standing in the middle of the road. He and his sister only had time to widen their eyes and gasp out of shock. When Lyra was about to hit the brakes, everything went black.

...

Everything was silent. For a moment, Toby thought he'd died. When he was finally able to crack his eyes open, he found himself lying on his back, staring at the morning sky. For the first few moments, he was in a haze and couldn't think of anything. He checked himself to see if he was still whole. Miraculously, he didn't have any injuries, so he sighed in relief... But then he remembered the sound of his sister's interrupted scream and immediately felt the weight of a thousand bricks on his chest. He looked ahead and saw what was left of the car. It was flipped over with a trail of torn-off pieces not far behind, and every damaged part looked irreparable.

"No... Lyra! LYRA!!!"

...

Toby walked out of the hospital unharmed, physically at least. He stepped outside, feeling worse than ever. The past few hours were a blur and his legs felt weak. He had a gloomy and mournful expression on his face. His eyes were red from all the tears he shed for hours on end.

Someone happened to drive by and caught a glimpse of the crash site. The driver found Toby screaming for help and immediately called the emergencies. By the time Lyra got to the hospital, it was too late. She died before the doctors could perform the surgery.

Toby spent the next few hours trying to comprehend what happened... His only protector and hope of escaping his problems were suddenly taken away from him. He couldn't remember what happened the last few seconds before the crash, only seeing something before everything went dark. He felt partially responsible for his sister's death. She wouldn't have driven off if it wasn't for Toby's problems, and he knew that he shouldn't have escaped with his life. All this time, she gave him so much, but he never had a chance to pay her back, and he hated himself for this.

For hours, he waited for someone, anyone he knew to show up. To his disappointment and heartbreak, no friends, classmates, or family showed up. Not even his father. That was Vince's last chance to prove that he wasn't a bad person, and he didn't take it. Whatever little faith Toby had for the man was gone.

Once he stepped out of the hospital, he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. He stared into the distance and took a deep breath, trying to take it all in, but the sound of a nearby car broke the silence.

He looked out to the parking lot and saw a taxi parked near the entrance, and the driver motioned him to come over. Reluctantly, Toby made his way down the steps and opened the door. When he saw the other passenger, he immediately shook his head. Vince was also in the car, waiting for the boy to get in. Toby didn't want to be in the same car as that drunken bastard, but he had no choice, since there was no other way home.

He reluctantly got in the backseat, and for the next few minutes, Toby looked away from Vince and stared out the window. No one said anything on the way home except for a small semblance of a conversation between Vince and Toby.

"Toby, the doctor called me, and he--"

"Don't say another word," Toby interjected, almost growling.

When they got home, it was almost dark and Toby felt exhausted. The second the cab stopped near the house, Toby got out and stormed over to the front door, ignoring his father who told him to wait up. The walk towards the house began rapidly, but gradually slowed down. As he got closer, he felt heavier and heavier until he stopped at the door of his room. He didn't even remember going up the stairs; he just found himself staring at the doorknob.

Once he came to his senses, he turned the knob, stepped inside his room, quietly shut the door behind him, and sat in the corner, letting the hours slip by. Even from the darkness, he could feel that the house was empty and devoid of life. He glanced over at one of his shelves and saw a framed photograph. He picked it up to take a closer look, slowly remembering that this was the only picture of his family together. Back when his mother was still there, when Toby was a toddler, when Lyra was in preschool, and when his father wasn't a deadbeat. They were standing in front of a tree line on a sunny day, and they were all smiling. By just looking at the picture, he asked himself what went wrong.

As he looked over at his mother and sister, he gently swiped the dust from their faces and spoke softly.

"Where did you go?"

He then looked at his father's face, and while looking into his eyes, a few memories from his early life flooded his mind. He recalled one of the many traumatic moments when Vince started hitting him.

"I'll teach you how to look at me, you little prick. C'mere!"

"Get off me!"

"What's the matter, punk? I thought you couldn't feel pain!"

"Mom! Lyra! Help me!"

Before he knew it, Toby's thumb covered Vince's face and began to press as hard as he could, eventually cracking the glass. As he glared at the cracked photo, he realized that he now carried a profound hatred toward himself...and especially his father.

Toby put the photo back on the shelf and plopped down on his bed with a heavy sigh, staring at the ceiling. There was no point trying to get Vince under arrest anymore, since he had no one to protect and stand up for. Plus, he had no one else to stay with.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how stuffy his room felt. He got up and opened the window to fill the room with fresh air. Once he opened the window, he looked out at the group of tall pine trees across the street.

He was about to turn around and go to bed, but his eyes fell on one more thing. He saw...something inside the forest. Even though it stood perfectly motionless, Toby could still distinguish it from the other trees. There was a tall, dark figure standing near the sidewalk, just a few feet shorter than the streetlamp. From the way it looked, not only did it blend in well in the forest, but it was also...oddly familiar.

Toby quickly rubbed his eyes in disbelief. But when he opened them again, the figure was gone. Toby stared at the forest in confusion one more time. He wrote it off as a hallucination and blamed it on the exhaustion before going to bed. It seemed like hours, but eventually, Toby fell asleep.

It felt like no time had passed before he awoke again. When he woke up, he felt restless. He tried to get up quickly, but once he did so, he felt dizzy and ended up stumbling over to the wall. He tried to collect himself, but before he could recover, he put his hand over his mouth and let out a cough, light at first. But as time went on, he wheezed harder and harder. When the fit was over, he sniffed and immediately felt something in his nose.

Shaking off the dizziness, he walked inside the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Once he saw his reflection, he was surprised. He saw some blood dripping from one of his nostrils. He quickly washed his face, put some tissue in his nose to stop the bleeding, and sat on a chair to recover.

After he was done, Toby got up and looked at the calendar, a habit he picked up for quite a while. He took a closer look and realized that the day was wrong. It was already Monday, but he was sure that that day was supposed to be Saturday. He thought that he couldn't have just slept for a full day. He would've woken up earlier than that, he knew this. He glanced over at a clock on the wall and his heart sank. The bus was about to leave, and he had an important test that day.

He cursed under his breath while rushing to his room, putting on his clothes, grabbing his backpack, and running to the bus stop. After almost a minute, he saw that the bus was about to leave, but managed to get there at the last second. Most of the seats were occupied, and the first empty seat he saw was at the back of the bus. He walked towards the back and threw himself onto the seat, sighing out of exhaustion. He unintentionally turned his head to the window that looked out to the forest. Because of that, he saw something that made his eyes widen.

It was far away, but Toby still recognized the figure from last night. Even though it stood in the shadows of the forest, the daylight helped Toby see it more clearly. The figure had a humanoid body, but its arms and legs were long and spindly like a spider and almost looked like a tree.

Before Toby could get a better look, the bus pulled away and the figure vanished in the distance.

At school, everything seemed normal. Before the tragedy, Toby saw school as a temporary escape from home. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than being beaten by the person who was supposed to love him. There was some bullying at first, of course, but when he got into high school, it thankfully stopped. He went to class and paid as much attention as he could, but even though he was surrounded by thick walls, he still felt exposed, unsafe, and threatened. The thought of that thing being out there made him feel uneasy.

He thought that maybe if he talked to someone about his situation, he'd feel much better. But every time he tried to speak to someone, they'd either ignore him, say that they're busy, or the conversations would be cut short. He didn't even have luck with the classmates he usually got along with.

The day ended, and Toby went back home disappointed and unnerved. On the way back, he looked in every direction to see if the figure was following him. When he got home, he made sure to lock the door to at least get a feeling of security. When he locked the door, he noticed that his house was strangely quiet. At first, he feared that no one was home, but when he walked over to the living room and saw his father on the couch with a laptop on his knees, he couldn't help but feel enraged. He was relieved that at least things were normal, but his rage was a natural reaction to seeing his father. Toby stood in the doorway too long, and Vince eventually caught sight of him.

"Toby, are you alright? You look pale."

Toby was a bit taken aback that his father noticed him. But he managed to hide his surprise and lean against the door frame, avoiding eye contact with his father.

"Why do you care?"

"I heard you cough like hell this morning."

"I just... slept with the window open," Toby lied once again. He felt that Vince didn't deserve the truth from him. "Is that mom's old laptop? What're you doing with it?"

"I'm looking for a job, a proper one. After all that's happened, I decided to make things right. I promise that everything will be alright."

"Heh. Right... 'Cause you're so good at breaking your promises almost immediately, right? Like you promised mom you'd quit drinking before she was gone. Like you promised Lyra you'd pay the bills. You could've at least shown up at the hospital to show that you have some semblance of sympathy. If you can't even keep a stupid promise, just don't make it."

"Toby, I mean it."

"Like you meant to hurt me? No. I'm done giving you second chances."

With that said, Toby turned around and left the living room, ignoring his father's plea to wait up.

...

Toby tried to continue with his life, but it didn't take long for him to feel uneasy inside his own home. He'd constantly see something out of the corner of his eye whenever he turned around, but every time, there was nothing there.

Toby thought that if he was going to be put through such a harrowing experience, he at least wanted to know who or what was behind it all. He set up an old camera in his room to record himself sleeping. The following morning, he checked the footage only to find that the camera recorded only a few minutes of him sleeping before the image distorted beyond recognition. The audio was missing.

That stunt with the camera was a huge mistake, because before, the figure was mostly harmless. But after that, everything took a turn.

During the first few days, he could see his own breath, as if it was suddenly cold inside the house. Because of his condition, he couldn't feel the supposed change in temperature, which was extremely strange, since it was only May. But he remembered that the cold could still be harmful. Not wanting to take any chances with his health, he started to wear a pair of gloves and a black sweater underneath his favorite hoodie.

As the days went by, Toby got less and less out of his room, and from time to time, he'd have panic attacks for seemingly no reason. He'd lock himself in his room to calm down, and eventually, he isolated himself completely. He took some food and water from the kitchen and closed the blinds of his window. As time went on, countless names and faces slowly faded from his memory. He sat in his dark room for so long that his eyes became sensitive to light, so he wore a pair of goggles to help him cope with his condition.

To make things worse, the days seemed to last much longer than usual. A single day felt like weeks to him, and his mental torture continued. He thought he could pass the excruciatingly long days by sleeping them off, but that too was a bad decision.

He was haunted by nightmares that contained his worst memories, from the first years of abuse to his sister's horrific death. He'd frequently dream about Lyra's mangled and twisted body trapped in the car, staring at Toby with her empty, soulless eyes. She'd laugh at him, mock him, blame him, curse him.

And whenever he woke up, he'd find himself in unusual places, like the bathtub, on the kitchen floor, or lying halfway up the staircase.

He'd ask himself, "What time is it? How long was I asleep? When's the last time I ate? Did I go outside today? What is even happening? ... What is this...?"

Whenever he looked in the mirror, he could see bruises and small scrapes on his face. The only explanation he had was that he was sleepwalking, but he wasn't sure. He couldn't feel the injuries, but he was too nervous to think where they came from, and the sight of those wounds made him feel ill.

He dug around his closet to find something that could hide the injuries, and eventually found a black and white striped mask that would cover his mouth, chin and neck. He and Lyra made that mask many years ago for a costume party they never managed to attend, but now it was time for him to wear it again. It still fit.

Over time, his bedroom started to feel less like a place of comfort and safety and more like a prison cell with danger looming outside.

...

Eventually, almost three weeks had passed, but to Toby, it felt like almost a year. One evening, he took off his mask and goggles and looked in the mirror. He didn't even recognize himself anymore. He looked very unhealthy; his dark brown hair became an unkempt mess, his eyes were sunken, his skin was paler than normal.

In the middle of the night, Toby saw that he ran out of food, so he built up the courage to go downstairs and head to the kitchen. The moment he saw the sink, he realized how thirsty he was, so he immediately ran up to it and began to drink from the faucet without a cup. All he cared about was quenching his thirst as fast as possible. He took larger and larger sips of water... but he stopped once he heard a sudden knocking sound.

Startled, he turned off the faucet and spun around to see where the noise came from. The knock returned, but it was much quicker, and it didn't take long for Toby to find the source. It was coming from inside the refrigerator. Toby stood in front of the fridge, unnerved and confused.

"Is someone in there?" he thought to himself. He stood still for a few moments, contemplating on whether or not to open the door. After a moment, Toby swallowed and slowly opened the fridge as the rapid knocking turned into a loud, eerie banging.

What he saw in there made his eyes open wide. Sitting on the shelves were the heads of four people he didn't recognize, and a charred, broken skull that sat on the top shelf. They appeared to be college students, just a little older than Toby.

He stood there in shock for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what he was seeing... then the heads did something that made his heart sink: their eyes suddenly opened, and they looked directly at Toby. His breath became shaky, and his arms trembled. The heads' lifeless expressions suddenly contorted into wide, demented grins as thick blood started to drip from their mouths, noses, and eyes.

The heads opened their mouths in unison as if they were about to speak, but Toby immediately cut them off by slamming the door. With the fear still in him, Toby ran up the stairs and stopped right in front of his room. He looked to his right and saw something unusual: the dark corridor seemed much longer than he remembered, and the end of it was obscured by blackness.

He stared at the darkness, almost as if he were in a trance...until he heard the faint creaking of the floorboard. Toby's eyes widened once more when he heard footsteps sprinting down the hallway. For a split second, he saw a silhouette emerging from the darkness. Toby recoiled and dashed inside his room, slamming the door shut and stumbling back to the corner.

He sat there, taking deep breaths for a few minutes, and everything was dead silent... until he heard it.

At first, it was very quiet and almost made Toby feel like he was imagining it, but loud enough to get his attention. There was a small knock on the door. That alone was more unsettling than the eerie silence or the nightmares. That little thud startled him. For a few more minutes, it was silent again. But the knock soon returned, this time more distinct and frequent.

Toby considered opening the door a few times, but there was something in the back of his mind that told him not to. He didn't want to know who or what was on the other side. Was it his father? No, he would've called out or tried to turn the knob. Or maybe it was that figure, putting his sanity to test with his worst fears.

...Or maybe there was no knocking, and it was all in his head. Maybe he was alone too long and began to lose whatever grip on reality he had.

Only one thing was certain: he couldn't stay in there forever... but starving to death sounded like a lot more pleasant fate than finding out who or what was waiting behind the door.

...

The knocking continued for what seemed like days, and Toby felt like he was dying. His mental state was on the brink of collapse. Despite all the suffering he was put through, he refused to open the door. But then... things got worse.

"Toby? Are you there?" said a voice on the other side of the door. Toby's head rose to look at the door. It was the first voice he heard in what felt like years. It sounded exactly like her. It was Lyra's voice. Toby knew he was hallucinating, but then he found out that she wasn't alone.

"Toby, honey, I want to see you again," said another voice. It was much older and softer. It sounded like his mother. Toby tried to fight the urge to cry and scream. It couldn't have been them. They couldn't be there, alive!

"Come with us, Toby. Please, you belong with us. I miss you, brother. I miss you, my baby. We miss you so much. Come outside."

Toby briefly put the mask and goggles aside and let the tears fall from his eyes. Many horrible emotions washed over him at once. He screamed through his teeth, letting out all the grief, anguish and guilt he suppressed at once and sobbed uncontrollably, muffling the voices of his mother and sister who were begging him to join them. Eventually, he stopped crying, put his goggles and mask back on, and sat upright.

He stood up awkwardly, almost as if he was remembering how his limbs worked. He fell to his knees, but slowly got back up, never taking his eyes off the door. He was eager to see them again. Before he knew it, his hand was on the knob once again.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened the door... When he opened his eyes again, the sense of overwhelming dread returned. He expected to see his mother and sister, or at least find himself in the empty hallway, but what he got was much worse.

He found himself in the middle of a forest fire. The flames and scorching trees were surrounding him. When he turned around, the door wasn't there anymore. He heard agonized screams in the distance, and the adrenaline pumped into his veins in just a few seconds. He ran through the forest, trying his best to escape the chaos.

Eventually, he stopped to catch his breath and looked down at the burning ground. He looked up once more and found himself in a clearing surrounded by twisted trees. The branches then extended over him, restraining his arms and legs. He wriggled to break free, but he couldn't move. He closed his eyes in defiance, ready to face his end.

Toby then felt something on his shoulders, and he immediately stopped struggling. Everything was dead silent except for the crackling flames and Toby's heavy breaths. He looked over to his shoulders to see a pair of hands with very long fingers. He stood still for a moment until the hands moved up out of Toby's vision.

Then he felt that thing's fingers reach inside his brain. In seconds, his head was filled with indescribable images. He could hear many voices speaking to him at once, and none of them sounded human.

The visions and whispers stopped. It was silent once again. For the briefest of moments, Toby thought he had finally died, but a low, distorted voice broke the silence.

"You are blind, Toby. Open your eyes."

He did as the voice asked. When he regained his vision, he saw that he was in the middle of a forest, but this time, there was no fire, no screams, and no terror. The sky was a gorgeous blue, the sun shone through the branches, forming random patterns, and the chirping birds made everything seem more alive. Despite the beauty, Toby couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was wrong.

The peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a noise. Desperate to see new people and not wanting to pass up the chance of seeing another human being, Toby followed the noise and discovered its source. He saw a family hiking through the woods; a man, a woman, and a little boy around four years old. The couple laughed and joked as they walked while the boy stumbled around and playfully swung a large stick like a sword. Toby didn't recognize the two adults, but he couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was something familiar about the child.

The moment the parents weren't paying any attention, the boy turned around and seemed to look at Toby. He stared awkwardly at the child, but a few seconds later, he realized that he was looking through him the whole time. Hesitantly, Toby turned around and saw what really caught the boy's attention. The figure stood between the trees, staring right at the child. Toby felt the urge to tell the boy to run away, but all he could do was stand there, staring at the creature in some kind of trance, and the boy seemed hypnotized by it. The figure took a single step, and everything went dark.

Toby's vision returned a few seconds later and found himself at the edge of the forest late in the afternoon/ The child was standing completely still, staring in the distance without a hint of emotion. Toby heard the voices of the police and a few members of a search party shouting from behind. They ran up to the boy, ignoring Toby, but the former didn't react at all. He was brought to a room where the boy's parents were chastising him for scaring them almost to death, and the boy simply apologized.

Time seemed to slip, and the figure followed the boy wherever he went. Year after year, the boy's face shifted into something familiar, but Toby couldn't put his finger on it. He learned that because of the figure's presence, the boy's attitude worsened in later years and became unbelievably troublesome. He'd constantly break general rules and sneak out at night to assault random people. The boy's parents eventually became exasperated with him, and they fought almost every day. They only wanted the best for him and were very concerned about their son's wellbeing, but the boy didn't seem to appreciate their efforts.

When the boy reached his late teens, he decided to confess to his parents about the figure and told them that it was the reason why he became so violent. Of course, his parents didn't believe him, and they told him that he was either making excuses or that he was completely delusional. The boy insisted that it was the figure's fault, but his parents refused to listen. In a fit of anger, the boy attacked his mother and gave her a black eye, resulting in him being taken to a psychiatric ward.

During the first few weeks, the boy's parents gave him daily visits to help him cope with his supposed delusions, but eventually, the parents stopped coming and the doctors seemed to have forgotten why the boy was admitted to their facility in the first place. This made the boy think that the figure was responsible for making everyone forget about him. He spent the first few months expecting the figure to return, but it never did. Maybe it decided to mess with someone else for the time being.

The boy spent five years in that hospital, and both his physical and mental health improved tremendously. Eventually, the boy was discharged and was given the necessary education to get a job that suited him. Eventually, he met a woman, got married, and moved to a house in a secluded area on the outskirts of the city. He looked genuinely happy.

A few years later, the two had their first child: a girl with blonde hair. The following year, they had another kid, this time by accident. However, the child's birth was much stranger. As the woman screamed, the lights of the delivery room flickered, but no one noticed... except for Toby and the father. The man looked at the corner of the room and his eyes widened in dismay. For only a second, the figure appeared, watching the process with the head almost touching the ceiling.

Eventually, the child was born, and the woman's cries of pain stopped. The woman held the child in her arms and said something that made Toby's blood turn cold.

"I think I'll name him... Toby."

That seemed almost unreal. The boy, the figure... the possible origin of his inability to feel pain... It started to make sense. For a moment, Toby thought that the figure was the sole cause of his suffering... But the visions hadn't stopped yet.

The next thing he saw was a younger Vince sitting at the table, surrounded by beer bottles. He looked disheveled, his face was red and seemed to be in a stupor. He kept muttering to himself, "Get out of my head... Why can't I forget you??"

Suddenly, Toby immediately saw a younger version of himself walking into the kitchen. He remembered those pajamas, that stuffed cow in his hand, and the sleepy look, and he started to feel dread. This was where it began.

"Daddy? Can you read me a bedtime story?" Toby asked innocently, unaware of what his father was doing.

"Go ask your mother," Vince said flatly as he took a sip from a bottle. He didn't bother to look at his son.

"Mommy's at work," Toby continued. "Can you come, please?"

"Go to bed, Toby. I'm not in the mood for this."

"Please, daddy. I wanna spend time with you, I--"

Vince sharply turned to look at Toby and stared at him with a look of pure fury, startling the boy.

"Get the fuck outta here before I smack the shit outta you!" Vince said with a suppressed tone of anger, almost as if he could burst into shouting.

The younger Toby recoiled at his father's sudden gesture and foul language. He couldn't help but look at him with a mixture of sudden fear and confusion.

"Daddy--"

"NOW!" Vince's voice finally exploded into the violent rage he'd be known for many years. He grabbed one of the bottles as Toby ran out of the kitchen, right before the glass hit the doorframe and shattered into countless pieces.

Vince was left alone once again and kept that look of anger on his face. He stared at the darkest corner of the kitchen for a moment, noticing the figure standing there. Even without eyes, it looked disappointed with Vince. The drunk man took a deep breath, grabbed another bottle, and started to chug the bitter drink once more.

Suddenly, all the moments of abuse came back at once, each worse than the last. He remembered how he witnessed Vince slapping Lyra for the first time, how his mother left the house only to never return. He recalled the last beating before being taken to the hospital, and finally, he saw what truly happened that morning; the thing Toby saw in the middle of the road before the crash. The figure was there, standing tall like a tree. When the car was close enough to the monster, Toby felt his heart sink, and everything went dark.

Toby startled awake. He screamed out and sat up as fast as he could, completely short of breath. He wheezed out and tried to calm down when he realized that it was just a dream. He looked around his dark room and saw nothing. No monsters, no ghosts, and no people.

He looked at the empty cans of food lying on the ground, the plastic wrappers and water bottles sitting in the corner, the desk full of scribbled papers, and the mess he made of the place.

Finally, his gaze turned to one of the shelves and saw the broken family photo.

"Wait a second..."

Toby got out of bed and stumbled over to the shelf, picking up the photo. As he held it in his hand, he realized he couldn't see anything through the cracks. After a while, he managed to take the photo out of the frame and looked at it closely. Even through the lenses of his goggles, Toby could make out many details he hadn't noticed before. His eyes focused on the background, a few feet in front of the forest.

He finally saw the shape of the figure between the trees. An overwhelming terror washed over him as he realized that his dream showed him what really happened.

He dropped the photo and stumbled back to the corner as his head was flooded with a million thoughts. He had no idea how to feel about his father anymore. A part of him was more empathetic. He told himself that he'd been through a lot too and that he didn't blame him for trying to forget about the monster. The alcohol just made things worse. Judging by the last time he saw him, he truly meant it when he was about to make things right.

Another part of him, however, was vengeful. He refused to believe that his abuse and alcoholism were justified. He deliberately hurt him and his sister, frequently putting his life in danger just because he could. He forced him and his sister to not say a word or reach out to others. His family was destroyed because of him and experienced no consequences. If Vince hadn't wasted his potential for whatever plan the creature had, maybe things would've been different. But worst of all, he knew about the creature for decades and never said a thing, thinking that the only solution was to take out his anger on others.

It wasn't the creature's fault; if anything, it showed the secrets that have been kept from Toby. Vince could never redeem himself for what he'd done.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He let him live for too long. Believing in him was just another one of his mistakes. For weeks that felt like years, he was tortured by something he couldn't comprehend because of his father. He got up from the corner and finally left his room without a hint of hesitation, fear, or anxiety. When he climbed down the stairs, there was no more thinking.

He made his way to the garage, looking for something to use. He looked over in the corner of the garage, and next to an old workbench, covered with dust, was a pair of hatchets leaning against the wall. He picked them up to examine them.

"Still sharp. That's good."

He looked all over the house for Vince, but apparently, he wasn't home. That was unusual for him. He had no choice but to wait for his prey to come to him. It didn't matter how long he had to wait.

...

A long time had passed, and finally, Vince returned home. Unlike most of the time, he was well dressed and clean. He was finally clean-shaven, his white shirt was ironed, and the black tie around his neck was perfectly straight. He looked around and took a quick glance up the staircase.

"Toby, I've got some good news!" Vince announced as he climbed the stairs. He walked over to Toby's door, opened it, and was surprised by the darkness, mess, and stench of the room. He knew that Toby wasn't there, and he looked all over the second floor.

"Toby? Are you here?"

Vince walked down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. He looked around again and sighed in disappointment. He turned around and almost had a heart attack when he saw Toby standing in the doorway, wearing warm clothes and a mask. Both of his hands were behind his back and his skin was almost gray from the lack of sunlight. He stood there, unmoving.

Once the surprise wore off, Vince barely recognized Toby through the strange clothes.

"Toby...? What're you wearing?" Vince asked, only for Toby to reply with silence. The awkwardness forced him to push the discussion further.

"Okay...? Well, I've got some good news, son. I managed to quit drinking altogether, and I finally got a decent job! I'll now make more money than before and you'll get to live comfortably again. Isn't that great?"

There was a long pause before Toby finally replied in a monotonous voice with a small trace of disgust.

"Is that what you're asking me? You think you'll be forgiven if you get some useless job? Is that what you think this was all about?"

Vince, noticing the oddity in his son's tone, felt how the air became heavy from the tension, and he couldn't read his son's expression through the goggles and the mask.

"How do you feel?" Vince asked. After a short moment of silence, Toby talked once more without moving a muscle.

"I don't feel anything..." he said calmly. "But I'll be satisfied after I'm done."

After that statement, Toby moved his arms, making the hatchets in his hands visible. Upon seeing the blades, Vince took a step back out of shock and concern.

"Where the hell did you get those?!" Vince asked in a surprised voice. Toby continued as though he hadn't heard what Vince said.

"You're so pathetic. Mom and Lyra died because you said nothing..." Toby stated as his grip on the hatchets tightened. Vince started to hyperventilate as his son snarled at him.

"And now you're about to join them!"

And with that said, Toby let out an enraged scream. He lunged forward, holding one of the hatchets in the air. Vince moved out of the way, but just barely, and Toby unintentionally struck a pipe. When he pulled the blade out, it let out a loud hissing sound.

Vince tried to tackle Toby against the wall. They wrestled back and forth but Toby didn't hold back one bit. Each hit delivered by Toby made Vince groan in pain.

Vince tried his best to push his son off and stop the struggle, but Toby was relentless. He didn't feel the hits or even flinch at Vince's punches.

"You lying bastard. You brought that thing into my life!" Toby snarled as he stared at his father. Vince's eyes widened in shock as a response.

Eventually, Toby managed to forcefully kick his father near the damaged pipe. Vince fell to the floor and violently got the wind knocked out of him. As Vince tried to recover, Toby ran up to him and brought one of the hatchets down at full force, splitting his shoulder. Vince let out a scream of agony as the blade sliced his flesh clean. Toby used his other hatchet to chop off one of Vince's knees, causing him greater pain and the blood to flood the kitchen floor.

Vince, now incapacitated, was at Toby's mercy. After that, there was no more thinking. Toby threw his other hatchet aside, grabbed his father by the hair, and landed a hard blow straight to his face. He struck again and again, each hit being quicker than the last as his mind screamed all kinds of profanities.

Eventually, Toby's arm was covered in blood and a few of Vince's teeth broke in the process. Toby finished hitting his father and slammed the back of his head against the wall. Toby began to move around the kitchen frustrated; he was quickly pacing, his breathing was labored, and he tried to accept what he had done.

After a few moments, the adrenaline wore off and he fell to his knees, coughing and panting. His head turned to look at his father and silently observed the damage. Vince's face was reduced to a bloody, unrecognizable mess.

It took him a moment to accept his actions, and once he breathed normally again, the giant weight he felt since Lyra's death had been lifted off his chest. He retrieved his hatchets and slowly made his way to the front door. He looked outside for a moment and stared blankly at the pine trees across the street.

And then...his quiet moment was cut short by a loud wheezing sound coming from behind him. Toby quickly turned his head and saw something that made his anger return. Vince was still clinging to life, but just barely.

Toby's breathing became heavy, and he was prepared to storm back in and put his father out of his misery, but he noticed something that made him stop. He glanced over to his father's left and saw the damaged pipe. He sniffed the air and detected a horrid stench. He realized that the entire first floor was full of gas.

Toby's eyes widened when he saw Vince slowly reach into his pocket and pull out a lighter. He realized what was about to happen and his heart sank.

After a few slow, angry breaths, Vince ignited the lighter. In just a second, the entire first floor was covered in flames. Toby only had time to let out a gasp of shock and stumble outside. Soon enough, the blast sent him flying onto the front lawn. Toby fell on his back and got the wind knocked out of him.

Toby's gaze faced the sky, and a second later, the smoke rose in his vision. When he saw the smoke, he saw the world spin around him until he slipped into unconsciousness.

...

**"You have replaced the failure. Well done. Now your time has come. Rise."**

The familiar voice echoed through the darkness. A second later, Toby forced his eyes open and saw that he was in the woods at night. The small clearing he saw in his vision. He struggled to stand, and he saw the hatchets on the ground. He felt different and had no thoughts flowing through his mind at all. He tried to remember what just happened, to remember the family he had before all of this...but his memories were gone, as if he just became someone else. He tried to recall the names and faces of the people he knew but found nothing, as if they never existed. His mind was slowly weakened, and at that moment, it had been wiped clean.

He continued to stare at the hatchets until the deep voice returned.

**"Pick them up."**

Toby stumbled over and took the hatchets. He felt as if he had no control over his actions. He could see that the hatchets' blades were covered with blood, but he couldn't remember where it came from. Then he heard them. He heard the voices of multiple people coming deeper from the forest.

**"Go there."**

Toby then moved towards the sound. He wanted to scream and make himself stop, but an unseen force made him do otherwise.

His body walked past the trees like a puppet, twitching vainly in protest until he reached the side of a dirt path. There, he saw a group of four people. They seemed to be of college age, just a little older than him.

**"It is time. This is your test, Toby. The first of many."**

Their faces looked familiar, but he wasn't sure why. They didn't even notice Toby standing on the side of the path.

He looked down at the hatchets once again, and the demonic voice said one more command.

**"End them all."**

With that said, Toby stopped twitching and nodded slightly as his grip on the hatchets tightened.