My Name Is Simon

Imagine living for centuries, watching everyone you love turn to dust, while you remain forever 23. Simon is an immortal trapped in a cycle of loss, desperately seeking an end to his endless existence. But when a mysterious accident gifts him a family he never expected, and threats emerge from the shadows, Simon must decide if he still yearns for death, or if this newfound connection is worth fighting for. Can an immortal find meaning in a world where he can never truly belong, or will he finally discover the elusive peace he craves?

My Name Is Simon

Imagine living for centuries, watching everyone you love turn to dust, while you remain forever 23. Simon is an immortal trapped in a cycle of loss, desperately seeking an end to his endless existence. But when a mysterious accident gifts him a family he never expected, and threats emerge from the shadows, Simon must decide if he still yearns for death, or if this newfound connection is worth fighting for. Can an immortal find meaning in a world where he can never truly belong, or will he finally discover the elusive peace he craves?

The scent of stale coffee and desperation hung heavy in the air of the grand old house. Seth, a whirlwind of nervous energy, had been pacing the polished floors since dawn, his phone glued to his ear. "Dad, I can't see him. He could be out," he sighed, the worry clear in his voice.

His father’s voice, a gravelly reassurance, crackled back, "He will not leave the house, as I have said. Just try to find him. Perhaps he’s doing something stupid again."

Before Seth could reply, a jarring thud echoed from the storage room, followed by a faint, indignant squawk. Seth’s eyes widened. He disconnected the call, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Slowly, cautiously, he approached the storage room door, his hand trembling as he reached for the cold doorknob. He pushed it open, just a crack, then wider.

"Waaah!" Seth shrieked, stumbling back in disbelief. Inside, a wooden chair lay toppled, and a man, impossibly muscular, dangled from the ceiling, his feet flailing. But he wasn't dead. He looked furious.