CHAPTER 10: "THE RETURN"

He pushed himself harder, his legs burning, his lungs screaming, but it was that good kind of pain—the kind that meant you were almost there. The gate opened. The hallway stretched before him. His door was right where he'd left it, waiting patiently like it knew he was coming back.

He fumbled with his keys, got the door open, stepped inside.

The apartment was exactly as he'd left it. His gaming chair was empty. His monitors were dark. The whole setup looked abandoned, like he'd been gone for weeks instead of thirty minutes. Speed set the plastic bag from the 7-Eleven on his desk carefully, deliberately, like he was placing something sacred.

He sat down in his gaming chair.

The foam molded to his body, accepting him like an old friend. Speed took a moment to just breathe, his chest heaving, his body cooling down from the run. Sweat was dripping down his temples. His shirt was probably a mess. But none of that mattered because he had what he needed.

Speed turned on his PC. The boot sequence hummed. He opened YouTube Studio.

The notifications had accumulated while he was gone. Hundreds of them. Speed didn't even glance at them. He just hit "Go Live."

The stream started.

0 viewers. 5 seconds of nothing. Then—

BAM.

250K+ viewers.

The chat exploded like someone had set off a bomb. The numbers kept climbing, kept rising, people flooding in because they knew Speed was about to be live and they didn't want to miss it.

SPEED'S BACK

WHERE YOU BEEN

DID YOU GET IT

Speed grinned. The energy was different this time—not tired, not forced, but genuine. He had something to show. He had proof that he'd done what he said he would do.

"YO, CHAT!" Speed said, bringing the bag up to the camera. "I got it!"

The reaction was instant. The chat went absolutely nuclear.

YOOOOOO

LET'S GOOOOOO

DO IT DO IT DO IT

SHOW US SHOW US

Speed held up the Fiji water bottle first, letting it catch the light. The bottle gleamed, expensive and premium, exactly as advertised.

"Look at this," Speed said, turning the bottle to show the label. "Premium Fiji water. That's the secret, right? This is what y'all were telling me about."

The chat exploded with confirmations.

YESSS THAT'S THE ONE

MY MOM USES THAT EXACT BRAND

FACTS THAT'S PREMIUM WATER

He set the Fiji water down carefully and picked up the sleeping pills box.

"And these," Speed said, holding up the small cardboard box. "Sleeping pills. Over-the-counter. Nothing crazy. Just something to help me actually sleep through the night without dreaming about angels and demons and shit."

More reactions flooded the chat.

BRO THAT'S IT

TAKE THEM TOGETHER

PILLS + FIJI = PERFECT SLEEP

CHEAT CODE ACTIVATED

But as Speed read through the chat, something felt off. He kept scrolling, looking for that original comment, that first person who'd suggested the combination. The one who'd started this whole thing. The user who'd said "my mom does it" with such confidence that it had convinced seven other people.

He couldn't find them.

Speed scrolled back through the chat history, looking at the timestamps. He could see the original suggestion, yeah—"YO, try drinking some Fiji water and take sleeping pills with it. Works like a potion. My mom does it after work." That comment was there, timestamped, visible. But the username was greyed out. Deleted. The user had disappeared from the chat completely, like they'd never been there in the first place.

Speed scrolled past it. Probably just someone who'd logged off. Probably nothing.

Probably.

"Alright," Speed said to the camera, to the chat, to the 250K+ people watching. "Let's see if this actually works."

He opened the pill box. The pills rattled inside—small white tablets, unremarkable, the kind of thing you'd find in any pharmacy in America. Speed shook out two pills, maybe three. His brain wasn't exactly calculating precisely. He just grabbed a handful and dropped them in his hand.

The chat started going crazy with advice:

DON'T TAKE TOO MANY

JUST ONE OR TWO BRO

MY MOM TAKES THREE

TWO IS PERFECT

Speed looked at the pills in his hand. Three white tablets. Nothing special. Nothing that should change his life. But the promise they represented felt enormous.

He picked up the Fiji water bottle. Opened it. The seal cracked with a satisfying sound.

Speed put the pills in his mouth.

He took a massive swig of the Fiji water, swallowing hard, washing the pills down. The water was cold—crisp, premium, everything bottled water should be. It went down easy. Too easy. Like his body was accepting the cure without question, like it was already anticipating relief.

Speed finished the bottle in one long pull, draining it completely, letting the last drops slide down his throat.

He set the empty bottle on his desk.

"Alright, chat," Speed said, his voice already starting to sound a little different. Slower. Like the exhaustion was finally catching up with him now that he'd done something about it. "I'm about to head to bed. Hopefully I'll actually sleep through the night without any nightmare bullshit."

The chat reacted with encouragement:

GET SOME REST BRO

YOU DESERVE IT

SLEEP WELL SPEED

CATCH YOU TOMORROW

Speed's eyes were starting to feel heavy. Really heavy. The kind of heavy that came from actual sleep deprivation finally getting what it wanted.

"I'm gonna end stream," Speed said, already reaching for the button. "Catch y'all later. Thanks for the suggestion, guys. For real."

He clicked "End Stream."

The red light died.

The chat disappeared.

Speed was alone in his apartment now, just him and the empty Fiji water bottle and the knowledge that he'd finally done something to fix the broken thing inside his head that wouldn't stop dreaming.

He felt good. Tired, but good. Like the cure was already working.

He tried to stand up. His legs didn't cooperate.