The demon, initially overpowering him, inflicted painful wounds upon Andrew. Blood seeped from his injuries, mingling with the crimson hue of the room. Despite the pain and the dizzying blows to his head, Andrew refused to yield.
With each desperate strike, Andrew found his courage and strength growing. He plunged the knife into the demon's hideous flesh, causing it to howl in agony. The room became a gruesome battleground, marked by the clash between humanity's resilience and the malevolent power of the demon.
As the battle raged on, both combatants were injured. The demon's strength waned as Andrew's relentless determination took its toll. The demon, now dazed and disoriented, struggled to maintain its grip on the situation.
Andrew, bloodied and battered, pressed on. He knew that this fight was not only for his own survival but for the safety of his injured parents. With each strike of the knife, he inched closer to victory, willing to pay any price to protect those he loved.
As the demon reared back, ready to strike Andrew with all its might, the young man knew he had to act swiftly. In a desperate move, he raised his bare hand and slammed it into the demon's head with all the force he could muster.
The impact was brutal, and Andrew's hand was left bleeding from the sheer force of the blow. But his efforts paid off. The demon, already dizzy and disoriented from the relentless battle, couldn't withstand the additional shock.
For a brief moment, the demon swayed, its malevolent intent faltering. The last thing it saw before everything around it turned to crimson was Andrew's determined face, drawing nearer and nearer.
With a final, guttural cry, the demon collapsed to the ground, lifeless. Andrew had emerged victorious, having fought with unwavering courage and resilience to protect his injured parents and secure their survival.
As the demon's lifeless form lay on the ground, Andrew couldn't contain his jubilation. He shouted a triumphant "yes" and raced to the living room, his phone already in hand, ready to call for help. But as he entered the room, his joy was replaced by a devastating realization.
"No, no, no... It can't be... Why... Why??" he mumbled to himself in shock and disbelief.
His parents, once battered and injured, now lay motionless on the floor. Their hands were intertwined, and a serene smile graced their lips. It was as if they had found peace in their final moments, knowing that their son was safe.
Andrew sank to his knees in front of them, his heart heavy with grief. He held their lifeless forms in his embrace, tears streaming down his face. Time seemed to stand still as he mourned the loss of the two people who had loved and protected him throughout his life.
The night arrived, casting a shadow over the shattered remnants of their home. Andrew remained in that solemn vigil, unable to tear himself away from the heartbreaking scene before him. The weight of his parents' sacrifice and the cruel reality of the world they now inhabited pressed down on him, leaving him with a profound sense of loss and
Under the cover of night, Andrew, his grief heavy in his heart, went to his house's backyard and dug a grave for his parents. It was a somber and heartbreaking task, one that he never imagined he would have to undertake.
As he buried them in the backyard, he couldn't help but reflect on how much the world had changed. He knew that Broten City was not the only place invaded by these otherworldly invaders. The once familiar world had transformed into a nightmarish landscape, and Andrew was left to navigate its treacherous terrain alone.
Despite his profound grief and the weight of his parents' death, Andrew felt an unspoken responsibility to survive. He remembered his mother's dreams of seeing her grandchildren, and a faint, bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Ha...ha...haha," he chuckled bitterly to himself.
Collecting himself, he went to his bedroom and filled his backpack with essential tools: a knife, some medicine, a flashlight, provisions of food, and a couple of bottles of water. He knew that he had to leave his neighborhood, for the eerie silence and the remnants of the demonic invasion left him with an unsettling feeling.
As he ventured out, he couldn't help but notice the absence of corpses that should have littered the streets. Puzzled, he muttered to himself, "Why are there so few corpses here? Did they all run away?"
Unbeknownst to him, while he was lost in thought at his house, robed figures had come and gone, rescuing the survivors and leading them to safety. But Andrew had no time to ponder these mysteries. His immediate concern was to leave the neighborhood and embark on a journey into the unknown.
Two days had passed since Andrew embarked on his journey through the desolate and destroyed city. He had encountered a few peculiar things during his trek. As he walked through the devastated streets, he couldn't help but ponder the events of the past couple of days.
"It seems some individuals came to rescue people," he thought to himself, "but not everyone agreed to go with them. Some decided to return to their families." He gripped his flashlight and knife, preparing for the approaching night. "Some said they introduced themselves as vampires, and some as werewolves."
Andrew, once skeptical of such legendary races, was now certain of their existence after multiple groups had confirmed their identities. The perplexing part was that vampires and werewolves, according to books and movies, were often portrayed as enemies. It left him wondering, "Are they together now? Isn't there supposed to be animosity between them?"
As he continued to contemplate the situation, he muttered, "Something is not right. It's better not to join any of them for the time being. I need to gather more information."
In the moonless night, Andrew reached his limits and decided to rest in a decrepit house near the edge of the town. He had actually reached the next city but chose to enter it tomorrow. As he entered the shabby house, he froze at the entrance, his eyes widening at the sight before him.