As Michael swung his clenched fist at me, I bent my legs and crouched under the blow as I felt my knee surge into his stomach. With a grunt, Michael gave a surprised look as he collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain. I could tell he didn’t expect the blow, coming from such a skinny guy like me. The other two kids were still upon me. My eyes darted to one who lowered his shoulder and ran towards me. I felt the shock in my stomach as I got lifted into the air and slammed on the concrete. My teeth hit the ground before my face did, followed by my forehead scraping the gravel. The taste of blood infiltrated my mouth as I spat out in disgust. The other kid, Donovan, kicked me in the ribs. As his sneaker slammed into my gut, I could feel the air leave my body. I held my chest with one arm and with the other stuck it in the direction of the kid’s sneaker. They chuckled at my fear, even Michael who picked himself up off the ground and wiped the blood from his nose with his sweater sleeve.
“Nice try, kid.”

Michael grabbed two fistfuls of my sweatshirt. I felt my skin pinch up into his hands. Then he yanked upwards and I felt myself leave the ground. Gravel scratched at my knees as he dragged and dumped me in a heap on the wet grass. I clamped my fists on the ground as the kids hopped back on their bike seats. They started to pedal and I could hear laughter and bike wheels on uneven pebbles.

I stood up slowly when they were far enough away. With shock I glanced at the blood spattered on the road and felt my face. A deep incision was dripping blood down my cheek and onto my jacket. I cursed and hobbled onto my bike seat. With struggle, I started moving again towards my house. The second I started to accelerate was when I first heard it. The sound.

“100 HOURS.”

I almost fell off my bike, it was so loud. I looked around me. A thick fog prevented any vision in Michael’s direction. But I had definitely heard it. It was an extremely high, almost computerized voice that echoed through my head like a hammer striking a church bell. 100 hours? With no one around, I continued biking, mostly confused but also aching and holding my ribs.

“Hi hon.” My mom said as I walked into the house. My dog happily greeted me by sticking his nose into my crotch. I laughed painfully and softly pushed him away. The sound of my raspy chuckle got a look from my mom and when she saw my appearance, she gasped.

“What the hell happened to you?” she exclaimed. She got up from her work computer and examined the cut on forehead. I pulled her the classic excuse, trying to cover up my embarrassment.

“I fell,” was the only excuse I could muster.
“You fell. On what, a bear?” she replied.
“No mom. I was biking and I fell. It happens.”
She was not impressed.
“It was that Michael kid, wasn’t it,” my mom said with worry, knowing that this had been going on since the fifth grade, and I had never stood up to him.

She had caught me now, and as she crossed her arms I could only sigh in response. I was led into the bathroom while she rinsed a washcloth in the sink. I explained to her what happened and she started to pat the cut.
“I’ll call his parents later.”

“No mom, then he’ll beat me again tomorrow.”
“I’ll tell the school.”
“He’ll know it was me.”
I rinsed my face in the sink and walked up the stairs.
“Thanks mom.”
“Sure thing.”

That night I shoved open my bedroom door. Something wasn’t right. My room looked like it always did, but I could tell something had been moved. The few posters on the wall, the spilling cabinets of socks and shorts, something else seemed shifted out of place. No one could enter my room, not my mom, or my dad, even my dog steered clear. I made it clear it was my room and my room only. I got bored of searching for something out of the ordinary and just flicked my light switch. Lying in my bed I could feel myself drifting in and out of sleep. I shut my eyes and dozed off.

My parents didn’t wake me up. No, they didn’t get the chance. Because at about four in the morning I was awaken by another booming cry.

“85 HOURS.”

It was definitely the same voice as before. It felt like it came from my head, but loud enough that someone could have screeched right at my ear. My room was silent. The view out my window was still limited and the barely visible light of the moon light left my room doused in darkness. I sat up in bed, glancing nervously. If my parents didn’t wake me up for school, I could sleep till the next week.  At this point I was nervous that someone had broken into my room, woke me up and left.

I rested in my bed for another two hours until my mom came in to wake me up.

“Are you already awake?”
“Mom...were you...in my room last night…?”
“Was I what?”
“Never mind. It’s just I heard-”
“Well school’s starting in an hour, get dressed and ready to go.”

She left the room. With a yawn, I pulled up the covers and flopped out of bed. My first thought was to Google it. I mean for sure, the internet would have a reason.

In the Google search bar, I typed in “Hearing voices countdown.” Yes it was pretty detailed, but I trusted my computer to find something. Sure enough, my mouse found itself an article titled “Hearing voices, please help.” The link took me to a website about medical phenomenon and where people posted rare conditions that were happening to them.

The article I had clicked on was made by Benson Morrissey. His story sounded surprisingly a lot like mine.

Hearing Voices, Please Help
Posted on 5/13

Hello everyone,
Before I begin I would like to mention this is not fake. This has actually been happening to me and if you do not have legit answers please go away. I am looking for actual help.

It started about two days ago. I was reading a book for homework when all of a sudden a booming voice shouted “100 HOURS.”

At this point I was actually frightened. How many people have been experiencing this? There was no mistake; this was my problem.

The voice was incredibly loud. I was alone in my room, yet I checked everywhere for someone out of sheer nervousness. No one. The voice was a mixture of inside my head and outside.

So anyways, the next day I’m eating lunch at school when I hear the same voice, yelling “85 HOURS.” I look around the cafeteria and no one seems to notice.

I had enough of this. This was downright freaking me out. I almost shut down my computer when an email popped up on my screen. I paused my escape to see why my email had automatically opened and shown this to me. The anonymous message was as followed.

From: NA
Date: 6:12 AM
Subject: IMPORTANT

Hello. You do not know me. But I know you. What you are experiencing can be explained. Meet us by the library. Come alone.
P.S. Come ASAP.

I had just about screamed for my mother but she beat me to it.

“Are you getting ready?!” She yelled from downstairs. With no time to reply, I quickly threw on some jeans and snatched my backpack as I pushed through my bedroom door. I ran downstairs, kissed her goodbye, and pushed my bike out the driveway. My mom went back to her computer, so she didn’t see me turn left at the intersection, towards the library.

It was raining hard. I knew I would get into some deep trouble for ditching school, but I now realized the trouble I could be in when this “countdown” had reached zero. Now that was a scary thought. I thought about long and hard what could happen if this was a timer. I thought about how the hell they knew where I lived. Also, who is “we?” Why was the email anonymous? I thought about all this until I pulled up at the public library.

It was a huge, beautiful stone building that had been there for longer than I could remember. Being the nerd I was, I visited it about once a week. It was different now, though. I didn’t come here for research, or fun. I wanted answers.

I walked by the entrance, finally coming to the realization that this was a scam. And then I saw him.
I just knew it was the guy. A boy, about my age, was leaning against the wall with another kid. The kid’s face could be seen clearly, but the one leaning against the wall had his hoodie strings pulled so tightly I couldn’t even see his face. As if he was hiding something.

My shoes splashed through the minefield of puddles along the parking lot, my socks getting drenched in muddy water. My hands shivered and I folded my arms across my chest. I looked around me cautiously and then stared at the ground as I shuffled towards the two kids. When I lifted my gaze, they were staring at me.

When I was in a few feet of them I decided to break the silence.

“Are you-”
Immediately Hoodie interrupted. His voice agreed with my guess on his age.
“Yes, yes we are. This is Benson. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
“How did-”
“No time. Literally. We are running out.”
This guy was just like the email made him seem—shady and mysterious.
“Hey.” It was Benson. He had a friendly face and welcoming eyes, even though I could see his fear. Of what? I thought.
“Hi,” I replied. “So I’m guessing this is about the voice?”
“Yes,” Hoodie responded. “This is something way bigger than you thought. Than any of us thought. It is not a medical condition. We are not crazy. We were chosen.”
“Will you stop speaking in riddles and just spill the beans?” I said, slightly annoyed. “What the hell is happening to us?”
“What he was trying to say,” Benson translated, “Was that you are not alone. Us three have been chosen, and possibly more.”
“Chosen? Chosen for what?” I asked.
Hoodie had the answer immediately.
“A transformation. What you know—the world knows—is a lie. We are not the kings of this planet. There is a higher power.”

“There you go again. ‘Higher Power?’ We’ve been hearing voices in our heads, not from outer space. Benson, will you translate?” I thought these two were crazy, that they had been brainwashed.

“No you’re right. Not from outer space. Deep within the earth. They are slowly transforming us. We are just the test dummies. First us. Then the town. Then the country. Then-”

“Okay, okay, stop.” I cut Benson off. “Just stop. I’m leaving. I may be hearing voices but I’m not insane. How would you even know that we’re being ‘Transformed’ or whatever?”
“Well, because,” Hoodie said, “I’m at five hours.”
Before I could respond, he pulled his hood outwards to reveal his face. What I saw I could never forget.
The first thing I noticed were his eyes. Or, rather, it’s eyes. And not just the two of them. Above his usual two were four smaller ones, two on each side of either normal eye. His nose was almost a hole in his face, as if he never had it. His skin was pale yellow and looked cracked and rotted.

I stared at this mutated excuse of a face until I regained my senses and started backing away slowly. He pulled his hoodie strings back and that was the last thing I saw of them before I darted in the other direction, tears grasping my eyelids.

My school day went normally. A few teachers yelled at me for being late. I didn’t pay attention. I couldn’t. I knew something the world didn’t know. And it was already too late.

The bike home was normal. It wasn’t til I put my stuff away and hesitantly started my homework that I heard the sound yet again.

“65 HOURS.”
I thought I could never get used to it. Having a heart attack a day. Like every other time, it had no warning, no alert saying “You will now have the crap scared out of you.”

What did change though, was the volume. This time, it felt as if someone had put a guitar amp in my head and strummed a chord at full blast. I collapsed on the floor, holding my head. My ears rang in agony and I laid still for awhile. I tried to make it all go away. The countdown, the bullies, the guy in the hoodie, everything. And suddenly I accepted my fate, knew I was going to be transformed, knew the world was in danger, and I could do nothing about it.

“65 hours,” I said, “Is all I have. For all I know, it could be all we have.”
My math teacher glared at me.
“That will be enough,” she scolded. Michael snickered in the back of the room and I shot him the finger.
“Excuse me!” The teacher shouted. “You can walk yourself to the principal.”

I sighed and pushed my chair out. My teacher gave me a menacing stare as I hung my head in anger and exited the room.

I stayed late at school from detention. I knew no one would believe me but it didn’t matter. For all I knew, humanity would end in two days.

Have you ever felt hopeless? And I mean completely. Like you had the most deepest, darkest secret that could save the world and you couldn’t tell anyone? Well that’s how I felt in that moment, as the three kids circled me on their bikes like sharks, waiting for someone to draw blood, just someone, so that they could attack.

It’s been about a week since I visited the library. About the same time since I had woken up in my own bed. Ate breakfast. Gone to school.

The boy in the hoodie’s name was Andre. I found that out when I saw the missing child posters. It was all over the news - three boys, all of about the same age, gone missing. No one but us three knew about all this. We had gone our separate ways, although we didn’t quite know where to go. With the inability to speak, we couldn’t tell anyone what would happen, couldn’t say “Look what happened when I didn’t believe.” So there we were, the three horsemen, crawling around the planet with no way to warn the people of their impending doom.