Prologue
Water rushed through the hands of a teenage boy, washing over cuts he had all over his arms. He stared at the mirror in silence, already used to those bruises, to the point he didn't care anymore.
Maybe one day your dad will stop this, Dylan… Or maybe not.
Dylan couldn't distinguish himself from a crowd if he was in one. He had short black hair, grayish-blue eyes, a rather soft expression, and a small demeanor as if he wanted nothing more to just go home and use his computer. He also wore a red hoodie, which now covered the cuts on his arm, alongside brown pants and a pair of sneakers.
His stomach growled.
Geez, I'm hungry already? I swear I had lunch earlier… weird.
He left the bathroom and took a look around the corridor of his apartment. Dylan's dad was not at home, and he could see the kitchen table empty, filled with the dishes from his last meal, even having insects all over the plates.
"I am not cleaning that," Dylan said, before shivering. "On second thought, if dad finds it like this… Yikes."
Dylan picked the plates, putting them in the dishwasher. Having that made both their lives easier, he just knew it. He chuckled and heard a buzzing noise from his pocket.
"Huh?"
Taking his phone off, he saw a few messages from a person he considered his best friend: Ethan. They have been friends since he was eight, and now, ten years later, he was still close to him. While he waited for the machine to do its job, Dylan began texting.
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What's up?
Heya.
Oh hi Ethan.
Sup. Are you free this afternoon? Found something weird.
I guess? Dad's not here, just cleaning the dishes.
Or the dishwasher is, but whatever.
Well then, do you know about this thingy?
…
No?
Of course you don't! Check this out! They have this personality test, and somehow, it's creepy!
Wait.
Do you mean Buzzfeed creepy?
…
I hate you.
Pretty sure you don't.
Whatever, man.
Look, here's the weird thing.
You open the site, and the only thing there is this quiz.
Alright… go on.
When you finish the quiz, the site… vanishes.
Vanishes?
What the fuck are you talking about?
It's like it never even existed! There's no trace of it left!
Okay. And I assume you're gonna go there?
Exactly! What about you? Don't you love some mysteries?
…
I'll think about it.
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That conversation was exhausting, and it finished right as the washer was done. Dylan left the plates there and went to his room, throwing himself at his bed and staring at the ceiling.
It was a small room, containing a table for his studies, although there was a laptop on top of it, a closet, and his bed, alongside one window, where Dylan's gaze now was.
"Personality test… Ethan, why are you so weird?"
Ethan knew exactly how to push his friend's buttons. The idea of some weird, unknown place online
resonated with Dylan, and he resisted the idea of doing that. But it kept going. What would happen? Would that test be accurate, or would it be just something some random person made to prank people? All those options made him even more curious, especially how the site… deleted itself.
How would that even work? I don't think anything truly vanishes online…
Dylan shivered, remembering some embarrassing pictures his mother took of him when he was a kid, and how they never went away, even if he tried his best to erase them.
You know, at least this makes me forget...
He raised the sleeves of his jacket, the cuts were still fresh. Screw it, he had nothing better to do, and his instincts
screamed for him to check whatever was wrong with that site.
"Alright, then. Let's do this," he sighed. "Dad's always saying I'm a failure, so look at me, using a random test to find my own worth…"
Dylan got up, sitting on his chair. Anxiety filled his body, even sweat came down his face. He hadn't even booted the computer yet! He gulped and did just that.
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The site was pretty simple, or so Dylan thought. He didn't know much about web design to complain about it, anyway. He saw a black background, with a small area where he could type the question. He found that to be odd, didn't these tests have multiple choices? He ignored it, checking out what the question was.
Do you consider yourself important, whether it is for others or yourself?
"Of course, they start with the question that hurts the most," Dylan rolled his eyes and typed. "I really don't. I'm not important to anyone."
The screen flashed before changing to another question.
Would you ever risk your life for a friend?
"My life is meaningless, why not? They deserve it more than I do," he said to nobody but himself as he typed once again.
Would you ever kill someone?
That made Dylan gasp. What kind of question was that? This was, at the very least, bizarre, which made him remember something: that was similar to the Mystery Dungeon games he used to play as a kid. Those games were fun and always made him cry.
"Those ones were not weird, though," Dylan answered again. "I don't know."
If given the opportunity, would you betray your friends?
"Ha! That one's easier!" Dylan grinned, typing. "Of course not."
If you could describe yourself in one sentence, what would it be?
Dylan tilted his head. This question was harder to answer, but still, he did it. "A worthless pile of garbage, but I'm grateful for my best friend still being by my side."
Do you think you could fight for others you do not know?
"Uh, yeah," he typed. "Of course, they deserve good things."
He saw the site flash again before yet another question popped up on his screen. Right at the top, though, he saw another one, this time, a statement.
Congratulations, you have passed the test. You seem to be… lacking in self-confidence.
"Oh, really? Well, at least the quiz is correct…"
A voice emanated from the screen, startling Dylan. More text appeared letter by letter, making it take some time to fully appear. What he saw made him get closer to the screen.
You lean onto others because you hope they will pity you and accept you. Despite that, deep inside, you think you're not worth all the affection you may receive, and because of that, you might be… Suicidal. Isn't it? Those cuts in your hand prove it.
"W-What the actual fuck?!" Dylan blinked, taking a moment to read the words again, and again, and again. That text was still there, mocking him. How the hell did that site know about his cuts?! Nobody did!
A human like you should be… a Herissmon. You have passed the test, and are now being called. You will learn to have faith in yourself. Do not believe the lies your mind tells. Your existence is important.
"H-Heriss… mon? What, like a Digimon? That children's cartoon?! And… having faith?!" Dylan shivered, backing away from the computer.
The laptop's screen flashed in white light, almost blinding for him, which made Dylan cover his face. That was his mistake, as the screen pulled him closer into it, and if anyone was in that apartment, they would be able to hear his screams. Until eventually, it ceased, and he was gone.
