#CoreStory is a community collaboration, a blockchain based fiction being written by fiction authors on Steemit.

This first chapter is a product of the efforts of the amazing @dreemit, @son-of-satire, @riskdebonair, and @fisteganos

You're welcome to be a part of the next chapter but first we want you to enjoy this!
~

Chapter 1

It was unthinkable that just a few hours ago these same streets were bustling with people.

Man-made noise and chaos had been replaced by the wonderful orchestra of the natural nightlife. The sway of the breeze, the singing of the birds along with the crickets chirping. The many stars dangling in the sky overhead, together with the yellow moon, providing the most serene lighting and atmosphere ever. It was a perfect stage for an end to the day's drama.

Work had dragged on a little longer than expected which threatened the chances of catching a bus. He did catch it, only to discover he had left his headphones behind. This was the last bus for the night, but not even that fact would be strong enough to come between him and his headphones. Not on this night.
Korey had gotten off the bus at the next stop, which was already quite a distance from the cafe where he worked. He ran the entire distance back to the cafe without breaking a sweat; something he gave himself credit for. He proverbially patted himself on the back just before going in to retrieve his headphones.
He had heard some mumbling coming from the manager’s office but felt he had no reason to bother himself about it. They were strange and still running wild in his head. He shrugged off the thoughts, and with his mind incapable of being idle, he suddenly began to admire himself.

In truth, it had been a very long walk home and he wouldn't have dared to try this just two months ago. Some viral video he stumbled upon on YouTube had motivated him to keep himself fit. It was tough keeping up with the early morning jogging initially but he kept at it. Tonight, all the hours spent jogging paid off.

The lights inside the house were still on, which meant his dad wasn't in bed yet. Korey dragged his almost 6 foot frame through the door looking very exhausted.

"What's the story today boy?" His dad asked from under his reading glasses. It was not the first time Korey would come home late.

"Won't the old man ask the young boy to eat before talking about the long day?" Korey managed to mumble the words as he made for the kitchen.

It was in truth more than a modest apartment for a school teacher. Living in a predominantly white neighbourhood, Korey grew up a very privileged child.

The entire day was played out on the dining table after the meal had been devoured. There was never a boring time with his dad and he loved that.

"I better get to my room real quick. I've got an appointment in dreamland." Korey said as he kissed his father goodnight.

"Korede Evans, the true son of the one and only Kolade Evans, his very handsome father" his father said as he watched Korey leave the room.

Raising him in a neighbourhood like this made it very important for him to always remind his son of his roots. The rest of the world might call him Korey but to him, he will always be Korede.
…

Exhausted from the late night, Korey fell into a deep slumber. He dreamed of the noise coming from his manager’s office. The dream was fragmented and disjointed. He was both being told to come into the office by the manager’s voice, and also being told by his subconscious that he was sneaking in and could get caught.

“You’re just pretending to hear the manager” a voice called.

Another voice reassured Korey “You can hear what others can’t.”

Despite the conflict and the fear of what was causing the strange rumbling in the Manager’s office, he opened the door and entered, as if on auto-pilot.

“Hello!” Korey called out.

There was no one in the Manager’s office. Various documents and other office items had spilled from the manager’s desk onto the floor. The desk chair had been knocked to the ground. It looked like something bad had happened in here. Certain darkness lingered in the air. Out of a fear response he turned around, and as he had expected the manager appeared from behind the door. He approached from the darkness in an unnatural manner and pounced on top of Korey. He had the appearance of an insect, with big soulless eyes, bony sharp ridged arms, and mucous oozing from his body. Korey struggled. Fear began to grip him, but then memories of all the training he had been doing recently flooded his mind. Korey felt strong.

“Get off me Mr Randalson!” Korey shouted as he with great force pushed the monstrous Mr Randalson flying into a wall.

Korey got up and saw Sara trapped inside a cocoon in the corner of the room. She had worked here longer than Korey and shown him the ropes. Was she dead? Sara… Korey looked around but couldn’t see the monstrous Mr Randalson.

“Don’t forget your headphones!” a familiar voice called out.

Korey turned to see his Aunt May. She was standing in front of his house. Korey was now standing beside her. She had something for him.
…

“Korede! You better wake up or you’ll be late!” his dad called from outside his room.

Korey opened his eyes. The dream disappeared from his thoughts as he checked the time.

“7.45! I’ve slept in…” he grumbled.

There would be no time for his early morning jog. Korey reassured himself that he had made up for it last night… after all, rest days are important.

His dad entered his room, and opened the curtains. Korey momentarily shielded his eyes as he adjusted to the harshness of the cold morning rays. His father was already dressed for work, wearing a brown pinstripe suit, with a white shirt, and a blue tie.

“I’ve made you breakfast! It’s on the table downstairs. Now, will the boy give his old man a hug before he leaves for a long day of teaching” Kolade Evans said with a warm smile as he embraced his son.

“Don’t forget your glasses old man!” Korey shouted as his father left.

On the table downstairs was a fresh pot of coffee, and his dad’s self-proclaimed world famous tomato omelette. The dining room was very minimalistic, with just pictures of him and his father serving as decoration. They had no pictures of Korey’s mother. When they moved from Nigeria to Ireland Korey was only six years old. Korey’s mother disappeared shortly after that. Without any pictures Korey couldn’t remember his mother’s face, which pained him. She disappeared within a few months of arriving in Ireland, but Korey felt like she had been around for a year or two due to his many fond memories of her.

Korey wolfed down Kolade Evans’ world famous tomato omelette as he read through the latest copy of New Scientist. This issue featured an article on blockchain technology. Korey found the history fascinating. He pondered over the origins of Blockchain technology. Although research dated back to the early 1990’s it wasn’t until 2008 that someone using the name Satoshi Nakamoto publicly conceptualised the idea. No one knew who Satoshi Nakamoto was or what his reasons were behind creating the first blockchain. It was a mystery, and Korey loved mysteries.

After he finished his breakfast he hurried to get ready for university. As he was running back and forth up the stairs, the sight of a picture of his Aunt May reminded him of his strange dream last night. He couldn’t get the repulsive monstrous insect image of Mr Randalson out of his head, and he couldn’t stop wondering about what it was Aunt May wanted to give him in the dream. He hadn’t seen her in over ten years.
With many thoughts spinning through his head, he left the house and headed for the bus stop.
...

On arriving at the bus stop, ten minutes later, Korede could not remember the journey there. He had been so abstracted by uninvited curiosities of the macabre dream he had the night before, that he was unable to pay any mind to his immediate surroundings.

Had it not been for the group of young boys at the bus stop, huddled around a phone and laughing hysterically, Korede thought he would likely have continued on past his stop without even seeing it.

Their enthusiastic laughter rescued him from his imagination, and immersed him back within the realm of reality. After overhearing the cause of their hysterics, however, Korede wished he could return to his thoughts of last night's disturbing dream.

There was no mistaking it. The boys were watching that same viral video that had been the source of Korede's motivation to get fit. He failed to comprehend how anyone could find it funny.
"Music. That's what I need," he thought, feeling a little proud of himself. That pride was promptly extinguished upon realising that he had yet again forgotten his ear phones.

"Great!" Korede mocked himself. It was about a twenty minute bus ride to his university, and now there would be no chance of escaping his mind during the journey.

"Oi, mate," one of the boys called out from behind him.

Korede's body was overrun with a sudden spate of terror. He wondered if he was about to receive a leading role in the next viral video. Without his permission, his spine began to arch as his hips moved forward to escape the arm that he knew was about to grab him.

"Mate!"

This time the voice sounded much louder-- and a lot closer. Korede spun around swiftly, taking a step backwards and widening his stance, ready to defend himself. This is what he had been training for, and a surge of adrenaline replaced his fear with a desire to put his new skills to the test.

"What on Earth is wrong with me today?" Korede thought as he realised how greatly he had overreacted. The boys had not moved closer. They were still at the corner of the bus shelter. The only thing that had changed was that, instead of laughing at the video on one of their phones, they were now laughing at him and the cowardly jump he had taken backwards away from them.

"Do you know when the next bus is?" One of them asked, his words muffled with laughter.

Korede was overcome with a crippling embarrassment. With a voice fractured by shame, he offered a reply.

"It should be here in a min--"

"Never mind," the same boy replied as he began to look past Korede and into the distance.

The sound of the bus approaching from behind filled Korede's ears, and he began a silent prayer. He prayed that there would be enough seats available on the bus that he wouldn't have to endure the ridicule of being forced to sit next to them.

Fortunately Korey was able to grab a seat near the back, and he slid in beside the window and scowled at his faint reflection. He was seriously irritated at his reaction to those boys. It was as if he'd reverted back to a time when he'd been much weaker and unable to take care of himself. Nowadays if someone picked a fight with him, they'd have their hands full.

It's that damn dream, he thought, it's got me crawling out of my skin.

He shook his head. It was just a dream, why the hell was it affecting him like this? Sure it was freaky, but he'd had worse, his vast imagination had conjured all manner of boogiemen to visit him while he slept over the years. He frowned, trying to pinpoint what it was about this one in particular.
He mentally reviewed it from beginning to end...and shivered when he got to the part with Aunt May. It wasn't the mutated Mr. Randalson that was bothering him, it was something to do with his aunt, an intensely dark feeling of foreboding...

His thoughts were cut short as the bus pulled up to his destination. As he made his way down the aisle he noted that the boys he'd boarded with were already gone. Must've gotten off at an earlier stop...Enough, he chided himself, brush it off and move on. He hopped off the steps onto the curb and strode toward the building that contained his first class of the day.

"Korey my man!"

He grinned at the sound of his best mate's voice, turning to locate him in the throng of kids making their way up the walk. He didn't have to look hard, Geordie had a way of standing out in a crowd.

His unruly brown curls were pulled together with a rubber band on top of his head, a 'do' that added three inches to his lanky form. Today he was sporting a long-sleeved white shirt featuring a kaleidoscope of colors of his own various digital artworks, a pair of baggy brown corduroys that were last popular at the end of the 20th century and a set of neon orange sneakers. Everything about him was loud and proud.

Geordie put his fist out and Korey bumped it, shaking his head but still grinning. "Man, where'd you even find those things," he eyed the pants, "a vintage thrift store?"

"Don't hate on the cords," Geordie mock pouted, "I'm bringing them back, everyone will be wearing them next week, just wait."

"If I 'just wait' for that, I'll be a withered old man," Korey laughed.

"I pulled them out of one of my dad's boxes in the attic, he says they were a hit with the ladies on account of them being so soft. Go on, feel them, you know you want to," he waggled his eyebrows.

"Dude you've been smoking too much of the green stuff," Korey shook his head, "hit with the ladies...when, in like 1995? You looking for Mrs. Robinson now? Going on a Cougar hunt?"

"Hey, don't knock 'em 'till you try 'em- the cords or the cougars."

They busted up laughing and headed in the direction of their first class, cutting across the expansive lawn.

"You ever notice that very few people walk across the grass?" Korey pointed out.

"Yeah, bunch of sheep, baaa, you can spot the free-thinkers by watching who breaks from the herd."

Korey nodded, a small smile forming on his face as he mulled that over. Free-thinker. He liked the sound of that.

~