Alfred's life was the epitome of normalcy. Nothing of great significance ever happened, nothing notable or important that could be stored away for his remembrance or that left an imprint on his life.

Ever since he was a child, it felt as if his life had already been planned out for him from the get-go. Every breath, every blink…everything felt perfect, synched, and orderly. Alfred thought of himself as the physical embodiment of what a normal American teenager should be; he fancied himself the representation of a normal person with normal problems and a normal life.

In elementary school, he earned decent grades and made decent friends. Everyone loved him and liked spending time with him just as they would others. Even the teachers liked the little boy with the dark gold hair and bright blue eyes that smiled constantly and exuded optimism like plants exuded oxygen.

In middle school, he earned better grades and made even more friends. Everyone knew about him and loved him and spent time with him as they would any other overly friendly person. They liked him, respected him for his optimistic nature and intelligence. Even when he had to get glasses, no one dared to make fun of him or call him names as they would have others since they were children and children could be some of the cruelest people that others could meet. He was nice, so they were nice in return.

In high school, he earned superb grades and became the star of the football team, just like all of those movies and social experts-like tabloids and the arts and music industries-depicted popular high school students. Everyone knew the childishly handsome quarterback whose smile made even the toughest teachers melt. He excelled at sports and science, befriended everyone he met, and, most importantly, treated everyone with respect. And, as the famous expression dictated, since he showed them such amiability, they did him the kindness of returning such actions, as well.

However, no matter how nice his life turned out to be, he thought it seemed…boring. Everything felt paced, fake…everything felt routine. It was the same thing every day, every year…

Even when he moved on and decided to study chemistry in college, his perfectly calculated life followed him. He earned decent grades-even if he did fail a few tests-, made decent friends, and led a decent life. His parents paid for his own apartment, bought him a new car, and continuously placed money into his bank account, which they did with his brother, Matthew, as well.

As Alfred grew older and began to notice the monotony that was his life, he felt a strange longing begin to develop. It started out small, as all weird feelings did, but soon grew as time went on. It swelled and grew into something more, something different. Once he hit college, the boredom all but killed him. It was the same thing over and over and over again. Nothing changed.

He felt nothing would ever change. Ever.

So, he subjugated himself to the long, boring life he knew would be ahead of him and tried to put on his brightest smile as he did so. It worked well enough for a while.

But everyone knew life liked to screw people over. No one was exempt. Not even Alfred.

Suffice to say, his time of normalcy was running out. For good.

"Time…"

"It's time..."

"Alfred! It's time for you to get up!" Alfred's eyes shot open as he struggled to sit up, only managing in getting his feet tangled in his sheets and falling off his bed. His gaze shifted all across the room, warily scanning for any sign of disturbance in his apartment.

"It's me, Al." Alfred's shriek erupted from his throat as he whipped his head to the side, coming face to face with his brother, Matthew. Sighing in relief at the familiar face, he slowly lifted himself off the ground and grinned sheepishly up at his brother. Matthew glared disapprovingly at him, arms crossed in front of his chest and lips pursed.

"Thanks, Matt. I owe you one, bro," Alfred chuckled, kicking the rest of the sheets off his body and walking over to his closet.

"This is the fifth time you've done this. You know I come to wake you up every time you have a test."

"I know. It just…slipped my mind." With a cry of triumph, Alfred pulled out his favorite shirt and lucky boxers, which he wore every time he had a major exam in any of his college classes. As Alfred ran into the bathroom to quickly shower and change, Matthew sighed and walked out of his brother's apartment, dragging his feet as he ambled by.

Meanwhile, Alfred let the soothing water beat against his back as he cleansed himself. Like always, his thoughts wandered, skipping from subject to subject, until he found himself thinking about his exam. He sighed, shutting the water off and toweling himself dry before pulling on his clothes.

It's not that he hated the class. Far from it. He excelled at Biochemistry and Mr. Oxenstierna, the professor, was very nice and understanding. However, he gave the hardest tests this side of the universe. Groaning in remembrance of a particularly bad test score he had received due to his being unprepared, Alfred swiftly toweled his hair dry, perched his glasses upon his nose, and finished with his bathroom necessities.

He snatched his backpack up from its perch on his desk chair and whistled as he made his way down the stairs and out the door of his apartment complex. At least it's almost vacation, he thought glumly. It's about time I got a break.

His keys jingled as he produced them from his pocket and used them to unlock his car. Sliding noisily into his seat, he jammed his keys into the ignition and immediately turned up the radio. A popular song was playing, which he happened to know the lyrics to, and he sang along to it whilst he drove to his campus.

His oddly chipper attitude came as a shock to him when he pulled into the parking lot and found himself rather…content. No, not content. Calm seemed more appropriate. He felt an odd serene feeling accompanying him as he proceeded to jog inside the building, all too aware of the dark clouds looming in the horizon. Knowing full well that it was going to rain later on, he cursed his lack of preparedness for the bad weather. He glanced down at his watch, noting his earliness, and placidly continued down the hall. Maybe he could take the exam and be out before the rain actually appeared. If he was lucky.

Finally finding the right room, he pushed open the door, revealing the huge lecture room in which his exam was to take place. He took his place in his usual seat -the one nearest the door- and placed his things down as he waited for instruction. Mr. Oxenstierna nodded to him in acknowledgement, his usual stern gaze never leaving his face, before looking back down at the papers he had in his hands. A few others were there apart from him, all either studying hurriedly or calmly gazing about the classroom.

One person in particular caught his eye. He had blonde, messy hair, peachy skin, and the biggest pair of eyebrows Alfred had ever laid eyes on. He dressed to kill, sporting a white dress shirt covered by a nice leather jacket, plaid pants, and knee-length biker boots. The scowl on his face seemed to deepen as he noticed Alfred gazing at him. Alfred caught a clear view of the stranger's stunning green eyes before the man turned his nose up and looked away.

The thing that bugged Alfred the most about this stranger was not his strange appearance. Nor was it his apparently sour attitude. No, it was the fact that he had never before seen this stranger in class other than today. That alone puzzled him greatly. Now, it could just be that he never noticed this man before. But something seemed off about him. Surely, even Alfred would have noticed such a standoffish person attending his class.

He shrugged it off, glumly returning his gaze back to the desk in front of him. It wasn't his business anyway, so there was no need to be worked up over it. His tiredness became apparent as he rubbed at his eyes and yawned deeply, stretching languidly in his seat. Oh, well. Time to cram. He couldn't afford a bad grade on this particular test.

The exam had been brutal, even though he had studied incessantly for three days and a few minutes prior to the actual test. Deciding that next time, he would spend a few more days to prepare for the next one, he walked briskly down the hall, rubbing tiredly at his eyes yet again. God, he felt tired. And sleepy.

He hadn't paid attention to where he was going and felt himself collide with another person, sending them both to the floor. Papers scattered every which way, landing on the floor and the two bodies currently occupying said area. Groaning, Alfred settled onto his knees and began picking up the papers that apparently belonged to the other person.

"Listen, I'm really sorry-" he began, but cut himself off once he noticed a strange clock sitting before him. Mesmerized, he reached out to grab it, holding it gingerly in his palm. It glittered, its gilded surface shining brightly under the fluorescent lights illuminating the hallway. He noticed the minute hand pointing right down to where the six occupied the clock's surface, directly at him. The hour hand pointed directly across from himself at the twelve, toward the general direction of the other person still sitting on the floor, messily taking hold of his papers. Odd. Alfred knew for a fact that it was only nine fifteen because he checked the clock inside the lecture hall before departing. It could be possible that the hall's clock had been off, but it seemed more likely that this person's was just wrong.

He glanced up at the stranger that accidentally collided with him, his heart stopping once he realized who it was. The strange punk boy was not at all happy to see him. His glare, intensified by his huge eyebrows, seemed to penetrate into his very soul. He briskly snatched up the clock from Alfred's hands, sneering at him.

"Do not take my things without my permission," he hissed, stuffing the golden clock back into his backpack. All Alfred could do was nod as the punk picked up the last of his papers and all but stormed away. Out of sheer curiosity, he pulled out his cell phone from his hoodie pocket and pressed down on the lock button. Glowing white numbers appeared on the screen, providing the time. It was nine twenty. As he returned his phone to his pocket, Alfred felt slightly unnerved at this new tidbit of information. He didn't know why; he just felt that way.

Sighing at his thoughts, Alfred dismissed them from his mind and continued his way down the hall. It was just a silly clock. What was there to be disturbed about?

"I don't think I did too great."

"You should study more next time, Al. You know you can't afford to fail that class."

"I know, Matt, but…" Alfred sighed, placing his chin atop his desk as he continued to talk to his brother. "I'll try harder next time. I promise." A long sigh floated into Alfred's ears, distorted due to the phone's speakers.

"I've heard that one before. You always make promises. You need to learn how to keep them, Alfred." He winced at his brother's words, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head with his free hand.

"You still mad about that time?"

"Of course I am."

"I'm sorry! At least it was only three times-"

"Four, Al. It was four. You left me standing out in the rain four times."

"They were accidents!" he exclaimed, pushing himself up off the chair and flopping onto his bed. Matthew groaned. Alfred could almost see the sad and disappointed look usually lurking in his brother's eyes whenever he saw Alfred.

"It doesn't matter. It's all in the past now."

"Alright. I've gotta go. Talk to ya later."

"Bye." Alfred hung up and tossed his cell phone onto his dresser, wincing at the loud clang it made. He let his gaze wander about the room as he thought about nothing in particular. Random thoughts floated through his mind, not unlike the ones a person thought about when taking a shower or trying to sleep. He just so happened to spot his laptop perched on his desk, gleaming in the late afternoon sun streaming through the curtains.

It looked very inviting at the moment, so he decided to perch it on his lap and surf the web. However, he couldn't seem to find anything to entertain himself with. He feel like looking at funny pictures, nor did he want to log onto Facebook and check his notifications.

Acting on a whim, he logged onto his email and scrolled through the various junk emails and spam littering his inbox. Not even bothering to check whom the messages were from, he deleted each one, lazily checking off boxes and sending the stupid things straight into his junk folder. He was about to click the clear button when a certain email caught his eye. Warily, he opened it and let his gaze roam over the words, confusion growing deeper as he read the entirety of the message.

What is the proper time at which cards reside? What? What did cards have to do with time? This had to be a joke, or at least a clever riddle he could not solve. It simply made no sense. Cards…and time. Time and cards. Where was the connection?

The more he pondered the question, the more bewildered he became. He stared at the computer screen, thinking deeply. Try as he might, he could not come up with an answer.

This is stupid, he thought. Why do I even care? Disgruntled, he checked the email of the sender, wondering who exactly decided to send him this idiotic one-question message. However, he was surprised to find there was no sender. Where the name should have been, a simple spade took its place. Alfred began to feel scared. He stared at the message and the spade symbol, eyes flicking back and forth as he studied them intently. A strange, frightening feeling began to engulf him, starting at his toes and quickly filling up until it crushed his chest. It alarmed him. It terrified him.

It made no sense. Out of spite, he decided to slam close his laptop and push it away from him. But before he could, his cell phone began to ring. He stared at it for a second, debating whether or not to answer it, before deciding that picking up the phone would be more advisable than ignoring it. Tentatively, he reached for it, picking it up warily and lifting it to his ear. He didn't bother checking the Caller ID; he never did.

"Hello?" he breathed out. "Who's this?" Instead of answering his question, the man-for surely it was a man-simply asked him something in return.

"What is the proper time at which cards reside?" Dread filled his body, accompanying the strange feeling and adding more pressure to his chest. It squeezed his heart, making it beat faster than should have been possible. He might have been sweating; he didn't know. His eyes widened, his breath coming in short, almost painful gasps. Who was this person? How did he know?

"I don't understand. Who are you?" he all but screamed.

"What is the proper time at which cards reside?" it repeated. Alfred could tell the person had an accent. English, he believed. But that was beside the point. What was with that question? Why did this person ask him this? Was he the one who sent that goddamned message? Probably, he reasoned. Probably. Most likely.

"I-I…I don't know…" he said, his voice gruff. Nothing but static greeted his ears, the sound becoming annoying and adding to his anxiety. "What do you want?" The click and dial tone from the other side of the phone signaled that the other person had hung up. This bothered him, immensely so.

He wondered briefly if this was some elaborate prank set up by his friends or even his brother. Matthew wasn't all sugar and roses like he led everyone to believe. Everyone had a vengeful streak and Matthew was not an exception. Alfred would not be so ignorant as to put this past his brother. In fact, it seemed exactly like something he would do.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. What were the odds that after talking to Matthew, he suddenly started receiving strange messages? There had to be some sort of connection. Growing angry, Alfred quickly unlocked his phone and dialed his brother's number. He tapped furiously at his knee as he waited for the infuriating little asshole to pick up.

"Hello? Why did you call me, Al? I thought you had to go."

"What game are you playing at?" he asked, cutting straight to the chase.

"What do you mean?" Matthew sounded sincerely confused, but that only served to irritate Alfred further. Had he no shame?

"Don't play dumb with me, you ass. I know you're the one sending that stupid message."

"I don't…What message?"

"Come on. Who'd you get to do it? How'd you send that message with the spade symbol, huh? Who was the British kid?"

"Alfred, shut up and let me talk. I have no idea what you're babbling about. What message? What British kid?" Alfred blinked, his brother's words registering in his mind. Did he really not know? Was it really not him sending those messages? He could just as easily be lying, but Matthew was never the best liar, nor did he like lying.

Just the thought that some unknown person knew his phone number and his email address sent chills down his spine. Not only was it creepy, but it was also very odd and frightening. It was all he could do to prevent himself from hyperventilating from his anxiety.

"Oh. Well, in that case, sorry. I'll call ya later, 'kay?" he breathed.

"Wait, Alfred-!" Before Matthew could finish, Alfred hung up the phone and tossed it beside him on the bed. He stared at the message floating before him, trying in vain to search for the answer. He didn't know if the person would call or email again; it didn't seem very likely. However, he couldn't help the chills from running down his back, making him shiver.

"This is too weird," he sighed to himself, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He closed the laptop, not even bothering to shut it off, and placed it back on his desk. Deciding that he most certainly felt tired and deserved to rest, he flopped back onto his bed and began the process of lulling himself to sleep. It was hard; all he could think about was the message and his test. Both frustrated him to no end, making him toss and turn, pull at his hair, and groan in exasperation. All he wanted was a nice, long sleep.

Finally, after what seemed like hours to him, he slipped into a deep, troubled sleep.

It faintly registered in his mind that he was in a room. The room in question was dark and enormous, the only light source being the huge pit filled with strange blue crystals immersed in a blazing fire.

Fire glass, he thought subconsciously. It's called fire glass. The fire leapt to and fro, weaving like a dancer and flickering wildly. He stared at it, transfixed by its strange beauty, before he pulled his gaze away from the blazing blue crystals and took in his surroundings. The floor was tiled and polished, alternating black and white squares making up the design. Hints of royal blue rugs littered the room. He couldn't be too sure of their size. Much of the room was thrown into darkness, making it impossible to gauge what else occupied the area.

"What is the proper time at which cards reside?" At the question, Alfred whirled around, alarm filling his features and mind. Standing just in front of the flaming crystal pit was a figure. He took care not to stand too close to the fire, meaning his features were obscured with black and shadows. The only thing Alfred could make out was the regal blue coat the stranger wore.

"Who are you?" he shot back, still frightened. "What do you want?" A thought struck him suddenly. "It's you who sent me the message and called me, right? Look, I dunno what game you're playing at, but-!"

"What is the proper time at which cards reside?" the person asked, cutting him off from his tirade.

"I've already told you! I don't know!" The figure sighed visibly, his shoulders shaking gently from the motion. He brought up a white-gloved hand, the palm facing Alfred, before whispering strange, unrecognizable words.

"What are you-?" Before he could finish, the room began to disappear, taking the stranger along with it. Black spots ebbed at his vision, oozing in closer and closer together. They consumed everything, took everything, greedily, hungrily. The last thing he remembered seeing was the blazing blue crystal fire before everything went black.