CHAPTER 4
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The voice of a child's laughter echoed through a sunlit field, tiny legs stumbling as he ran. The gentle scolding of a woman and the joyous laughter of a man filled the air, blending into a melody of peace. But in an instant, the scene shifted — the sky darkened, and the world turned grim.
Screams pierced the atmosphere. Blood soaked the ground like paint splashed across a canvas of death. Bodies lay strewn across the landscape, lifeless and cold.
The man, once laughing, now lay split in two — a grotesque horror that defied belief.
The woman, her face streaked with tears, clutched a small child to her chest as she ran without looking back, her breath ragged with fear. She whispered soothing words to the boy, muffling his ears and shielding his eyes from the carnage around them. Yet, the metallic scent of blood lingered, suffocating, inescapable.
Then came the impact. A strong violent force knocked her off her feet, the child torn from her grasp. He flew through the air, landing hard, skin scraped raw against the earth. The woman, wounded and dying, reached out with trembling fingers, her voice hoarse and broken.
"Run... Run, Dune... Run!"
Her plea lingered in the air, mingling with the sound of her heart being ripped from her chest. Life faded from her eyes, and silence fell over the battlefield.
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Dune jolted awake, chest heaving, sweat soaking the sheets. His pulse thundered in his ears, heart racing like he was still running from that night. He was almost having a panic attack.
Another nightmare.
He wiped his face with a shaky hand, staring at the ceiling as he caught his breath. The gruesome memory haunted him — the death of his parents, the destruction of his village, all at the hands of the Eliminators.
They were enforcers of judgment, executioners sent by the Forepersons to carry out punishments in the name of balance. They ruled over all supernatural beings — including humans — under the divine authority of the Moon Goddess.
Their powers were unmatched. For humans, their strength lay in technology. For others, it was raw, elemental magic.
But why had they come for him? Why massacre an entire village for one child? What was the reason behind all of it just why?
According to Aunt Cathy, the reason was simple.
He was a curse. A race that has never been seen before, the first of his kind or so they thought.
A harbinger of destruction, born to tear apart the supernatural world.
The races of the world all had their reasons to want him dead.
Humans wanted to experiment on him, unlock his power like a puzzle to advance their technology.
Witches wanted to siphon his magic to elevate their craft.
Wolves wanted to forcefully mark him, bind him to submission.
Vampires... well, Dune didn't even want to know what they had in mind.
A reason why he has been kept hidden from the reach of the world.
All of them, in one way or another, wanted to twist him into a weapon or snuff him out to prevent the possibility of war.
The part that gnawed at him most was the claim that the Moon Goddess herself ordered his death. But if that were true... why did she give him these powers in the first place?
His gut told him there was more to it. But honestly? He didn't care to find out. As long as he could live a peaceful life, that was enough for him.
Except peace wasn't exactly easy to come by when you had pinkish-red eyes, snow-white hair, and an aura that screamed "freak."
Even among supernatural beings, he was an anomaly.
But at least he wasn't alone.
He had Aunt Cathy and Christine.
Well Christine herself, She was a misfit too — the daughter of a witch from a forbidden clan and an elf. A hybrid rejected by both sides. So she buried her elf traits and clung to her witch magic instead. They'd been inseparable for 15 years, calling themselves foster twins.
How he ended up with Christine and Aunt Cathy after the massacre was a mystery even to him. The only thing he remembered after his mother's death was waking up with Christine by his side.
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"DUNE!!! YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SH*T
The furious voice of Christine shattered the morning silence.
Dune barely had time to blink before his bedroom door swung open with a loud bang, nearly flying off the hinges. Christine stood in the doorway, fuming like an overworked housewife, her face red enough to match her hair.
"Do you know we're gonna be late if you don't drag your sorry ass out of bed right now?!" she snapped, arms crossed like she was about to throttle him.
Dune, still groggy from his nightmare, blinked in confusion.
"Late...?" The word sank in, and his eyes widened. "Oh, shit."
He jumped out of bed, sprinting to the bathroom as he cursed under his breath. Christine rolled her eyes and stomped out of the room, muttering threats about murder and dismemberment.
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It had been a week since they arrived in Portland Oregon. And today was their first day of school.
Dune came downstairs dressed in black from head to toe — hoodie, ripped jeans, and a leather jacket. His white hair was tied in a low bun, and his red eyes, though striking, were half-lidded with exhaustion.
Christine, on the other hand, looked like she walked straight out of a fashion magazine. A red plaid skirt, a white crop top, red jacket, and red-and-white Jordans. Her long hair was tied high, swaying like a flame with every step.
Dune whistled.
"Yooo, Christine. You look hot. Trying to impress your crush, huh?"
She shot him a death glare.
"You tell me who you're trying to impress, emo boy."
"This is just how I dress," he said, smirking.
"Same."
They finished breakfast quickly, grabbed their bags, and headed to the garage.
Dune grinned. "Car or bikes?"
Christine didn't even hesitate. "Bikes. Definitely bikes."
He snorted. "And you're not trying to impress anyone?"
She ignored him, straddling her motorcycle.
"Let's go," she said, revving the engine. "We can't be late on our first day."
Dune slipped on his helmet, smiling to himself.
This might actually be fun.
If only he could shake the feeling that something dark was already watching them from the shadows.
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