I - Beginnings

His name.

A combination of letters and characters.

An uttered sound that travels through air.

The proper noun received through his ears.

An identifier to one of billions of moving souls. Alive or not, that's up for debate.

A fraction is known, most are unknown to him.

Identity.

His name is his identity. That's how people know him. At least, of him.

Classical conditioning.

The syllable comes to life, and he automatically responds.

But lately, his reaction slows, as if frozen by an unexplained cold chill.

Because it is unexplained.

An intentional delay.

Who is that? Is that him, or another being?

He knows, and does not know, who he is.

As if afflicted by an otherworldly entity, a shift resides inside him.

He hears the syllable, hesitating.

Clicking pause on any response.

His home, invaded.

He bears witness to...whatever phenomenon is happening.

Someone, or something emerges from him.

His body screams in protest.

Of what exactly, no one knows.