I AM GOD OF CRIMINAL

CHAPTER 2

Ethan woke up gasping, his chest heaving as sunlight poured through the thin curtains of his small bedroom. He sat up, the familiar scent of old wood and laundry detergent filling his nose. His eyes darted around, confusion gripping him.

“This… can’t be,” he muttered, his voice trembling.

“Ethan! Breakfast is getting cold!” Emily’s voice called from downstairs.

He froze, the sound pulling him back years in an instant. Emily? Panic swelled in his chest as he stumbled out of bed, yanking open the door.

The hallway was just as he remembered it—scuffed wallpaper, creaky floorboards. His feet moved instinctively, carrying him to the kitchen.

There she was. Emily stood by the stove, her hair tied in a messy bun, flipping pancakes. Adam sat at the table, pouring syrup onto his plate, grinning ear to ear.

“You’re finally up, lazybones,” Adam teased.

Ethan stared at them, his heart pounding. “Emily? Adam?”

Emily turned, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? Who else would we be?”

“You’re—” He stopped, his throat tightening. “You’re alive.”

Emily frowned, her eyes scanning his face. “Ethan, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I…” He struggled for words. “I just—had a bad dream.”

Adam smirked, shoving a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “What kind of dream?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” Ethan shook his head, sitting down slowly. His hands trembled as he reached for a piece of toast.

Emily placed a plate of pancakes in front of him, her brow furrowed. “You sure you’re okay? You’re pale.”

“I said I’m fine,” Ethan snapped, then winced at his tone. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”

Adam snorted. “Probably dreaming about failing math again.”

Ethan’s lips twitched despite himself. “Shut up, Adam.”

The morning unfolded as it always had, but unease lingered in Ethan’s chest. This has to be a dream… right?

Later that day, Ethan sat in the back of his history class, staring blankly at the chalkboard. The teacher’s voice droned on, but his mind was elsewhere.

If this is real, then—

“Breaking news,” the teacher’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping his attention to the TV she’d turned on.

The screen showed a mugshot of a gaunt, bearded man. “Jimmy Carter, a convicted murderer, escaped custody earlier today. Authorities warn residents to stay vigilant and report any sightings.”

Ethan’s blood ran cold. The announcement matched exactly what he’d seen in his dream. Every detail.

“That’s him,” Ethan whispered to himself, gripping the desk.

“What?” the girl next to him asked.

“Nothing,” he muttered, his mind racing. It’s happening. It’s all happening again.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, but Ethan had no intention of going home.

“Where are you going?” Adam called as Ethan grabbed his jacket.

“I’ll be back later,” Ethan replied hurriedly.

Emily blocked the door, arms crossed. “Oh no, you’re not skipping again. Last time, you got detention for a week.”

“Emily, move,” Ethan said firmly.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time to explain,” he snapped. “Just trust me, okay?”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been acting weird all day. If this is about that dream—”

“It’s not a dream,” Ethan interrupted. “Jimmy Carter escaped. He’s dangerous, and I think he’s hiding nearby.”

Adam poked his head out from the living room. “How would you even know that?”

Ethan hesitated. “I… just do.”

“Ethan, you’re being ridiculous,” Emily said, exasperated.

“No, I’m not.” His voice rose. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I need to check something out. Please, Emily. Just let me go.”

She studied him for a moment before sighing. “Fine. But if you get arrested or worse, don’t expect me to bail you out.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ethan muttered, slipping past her and out the door.

The streets felt eerily quiet as Ethan wandered through the neighborhood, his eyes scanning every alley and shadowed corner. If my dream was right about the escape, maybe it’s right about where Jimmy went.

He made his way toward the old, abandoned factory on the edge of town, his heart pounding with every step.

“Why am I doing this?” he muttered under his breath. “I should just call the cops.”

But something inside him pushed him forward, a mix of fear and determination. If I can stop him, maybe I can change what happens.

The factory loomed ahead, its broken windows and rusted doors a haunting silhouette against the setting sun. Ethan hesitated, his gut twisting.

“You’re insane,” he whispered to himself, stepping inside.

The air inside was thick with dust and the faint smell of mildew. Ethan crept through the darkened halls, his footsteps echoing eerily.

A faint noise stopped him in his tracks.

Footsteps.

Ethan pressed himself against the wall, his breathing shallow. He peeked around the corner and froze.

Jimmy Carter stood in the center of the room, rummaging through a backpack.

Ethan’s mind screamed at him to run, but his feet wouldn’t move. This is real. This is actually happening.

“Who’s there?” Jimmy’s voice was a low growl, his head snapping up.

Ethan’s breath caught. Idiot. He heard you.

“Come out,” Jimmy snarled, pulling a knife from his belt.

Ethan stepped into the dim light, his hands raised. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Jimmy sneered. “Too late for that, kid. What are you doing here?”

“I…” Ethan’s mind raced for an answer. “I got lost.”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Jimmy muttered, stepping closer.

Ethan’s heart pounded. “You don’t have to do this.”

Jimmy barked a laugh. “And what are you gonna do? Talk me into turning myself in?”

“Maybe,” Ethan shot back, trying to mask his fear.

Jimmy’s expression darkened. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But guts won’t save you.”

Ethan’s mind scrambled for a way out. Think, think!

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the factory. Jimmy spun around, his grip on the knife tightening.

“Who’s there?” he barked, his voice echoing.

Ethan took the opportunity to back away, his pulse racing.

“Kid!” Jimmy shouted, but Ethan was already running, his feet pounding against the concrete floor.