Episode 1: The Vision

It started on a stormy night, when rain poured endlessly and the world outside blurred into shadows. Sixteen-year-old Mia woke up with a sharp gasp, her heart racing uncontrollably as she struggled to breathe. The vision had been different this time—too real, too intense. She had seen a man standing in the middle of an empty street, drenched in rain, crying as he held a lifeless woman in his arms. His screams echoed, filled with pain, but his face remained hidden, just like the woman’s. Yet something about her felt disturbingly familiar. Mia sat up, trembling, trying to steady herself. She had always had visions—small flashes of the future—but never like this, never something that felt so deeply connected to her. The next morning, she told her mother everything, her voice still shaking as she described the scene. But her mother simply sighed and brushed it off, telling her she was overthinking and that not every dream or vision had meaning. Mia tried to believe her, tried to move on, but the feeling lingered in the back of her mind. Then, just like that, the vision never came again. Five years passed, and Mia was now a college student studying criminal psychology, a field that strangely felt natural to her. Her life had become normal, and the visions had faded into rare, insignificant moments—until one morning when she woke up with a jolt. The same vision returned: the rain, the empty street, the man crying over the woman’s body. But this time, there was something new—a date written clearly near a board: 21.04.2020. Mia froze as she realized it was still 2019. One year from now. Her chest tightened as fear settled in; this wasn’t just a random vision—it felt like a warning. Days later, her class received an assignment to collect raw psychological data by interviewing real criminals, and a visit to a jail was arranged. Mia was supposed to go with her friends, but at the last moment, she chose to go alone, making up an excuse, as if something inside her was pulling her there. As she entered the jail, the heavy iron gates shut behind her with a loud clang, and the air felt suffocating, filled with an unsettling silence. She handed over her details to the jailer, who told her to wait before walking away. Left alone, Mia’s curiosity took over, and she began walking slowly through the corridor lined with cells, her footsteps echoing against the cold walls. Most of the cells were dimly lit, some completely dark, but she suddenly stopped in front of one—cell number 214. It was darker than the rest, and something about it felt wrong. She stepped closer, her heart pounding, and that’s when she heard it—a voice, low and calm, almost amused, saying, “Finally… after so many years… you can hear me, Mia.” Her breath caught instantly, and she froze in place, her mind going blank as fear crept through her veins. “Who’s there?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. A soft chuckle echoed from the darkness, sending chills down her spine. Before she could say anything else, footsteps approached from behind, and the jailer returned, making her flinch and step back quickly. He looked at her sternly and asked if he hadn’t told her to stay put. Mia immediately shook her head, apologizing, trying to hide the panic on her face. But as she glanced back at cell 214, there was nothing—only silence, as if no one had spoken at all. Yet deep down, Mia knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t just a vision anymore, it was something real, something connected to her, and somehow, it had been waiting for her all along.

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