Patrick felt the pressure of the snow shovel against his sore fingers as he tried to chip away at the hard ice that adhered itself to the concrete of his driveway. "Nngh...fuck..." He bit his lower lip in frustration. Why did he have to be the one who shoveled the snow today, when he already did it once yesterday? His sister should have a crack at it. Then again, he thought, he would probably be more fit for this kind of menial labor, since his sister was on the smaller side.

                Patrick was a fit young man with short, scruffy brown hair. He had not combed it, but he didn't see much reason to if he wasn't going to be heading out in public. Regardless, his hair was covered up by the hood of his black and brown striped jacket, light due the temperature rising a bit since this morning. Though that certainly didn't make the ice any more tolerable.

                He straightened up and leaned against his shovel as he stood it on the ground, looking at how much he'd accomplished. It took him a couple hours, but a good portion of it was cleaned off. Anything that wasn't was simply ice, but he did his best to make sure it was tire-friendly for when his parents would drive in.

                As he reflected on this, however, he realized it had been a while since his parents had come home from work. "What time is it...?" He spoke quietly to himself before digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone, finding it to already be 4 PM. "What the hell? They should've gotten here an hour ago." He scratched the back of his head with an annoyed grunt. It was odd, but he wasn't going to think much of it as he put away his shovel and headed back inside. They were probably just busy shopping or something, it was getting close to Christmas after all.

                "Hey Emily, I finished the driveway! I'm gonna take a quick nap!" He called out down a hall to his left, but didn't hear anyone call back. "Sleeping herself, eh? She didn't even do any work..." He sighed to himself as he headed to his room, quietly closing the door behind him so that he wouldn't wake his sister up.

                Meanwhile... an invisible figure lying outside of Patrick's senses watched the young man from across the room as he kicked off his shoes and laid himself on his bed. He didn't sleep, but he stared up at the ceiling, seeming to be thinking about something. "What a curious creature..." The suspicious figure thought to itself. It peered into Patrick's mind as he thought.

                "Still, it's kind of weird they'd be this late without at least calling me..." As Patrick thought this, the ominous being smiled knowingly. It found that Patrick was still ignorant to his predicament.

                Patrick, meanwhile, oblivious to the creature that secretly stalked him, reached into his pocket and once again pulled out his phone. He typed into it in hopes of giving his father a call. As he pressed ‘dial', the phone rang for a brief second before a robotic voice spoke back to him.

"Sorry, the number you wanted to call has been disconnected."

                "Wait what?!" Patrick sat back up in surprise, looking at his phone's screen as the call automatically hung up. Did he hear that right? ‘Disconnected'? It would have been one thing if it said the call couldn't be reached, but the number was disabled? Just to make sure he heard that right, he typed in the number once again and listened.

                "Sorry, but you won't hear from your father ever again."

                These robotic words sent a chill down Patrick's spine that he couldn't describe. What the hell was this? That's not something an answering machine was supposed to say! Was he dreaming? He felt awake! A sense of dread wash over him, but he didn't know why. None of this made any sense, it couldn't have been real. And if it's not real, then there's nothing to worry about!

                These thoughts went through Patrick's head again and again just so he could calm himself down. Even so, a biting paranoia gnawed at the back of his mind. Just to make sure one last time, he typed in his father's phone number and listened to the answering machine's response.

                "Sorry, but the holy goddess chose you for the trial."

                "Wha-" Before Patrick could finish his thought, he found his body forced to lay back down on his bed. The invisible being above him traced its fingers up and down his body, using its index finger to carve some kind of symbol over him. The young man himself could almost see this action. As they traced its finger over his body, a glowing line followed it, adhering to his flesh. He tried to struggle and scream, but he was firmly held in place, unable to resist. He could hear the answering machine's voice echoing in his head, sounding like a beautiful siren as his consciousness was beginning to slip. Everything around him seemed to be breaking down, and he was losing his vision.

                "Sleep." The voice said. "Sleep and rejoice, knowing that you'll awake from any slumber."

                These were the last words he heard as everything went black.