Day 1: The Wish
Eli Turner sat in the suffocating quiet of his apartment, the hum of the city outside barely audible through his thin walls. The dim, flickering light of his desk lamp cast long shadows on the walls, making his cramped space feel even smaller. The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. He hadn't slept properly in weeks—not since the familiar routine of his life had begun to weigh on him like a stone, pressing his chest until it was hard to breathe.
It wasn't just work. It wasn't just the loneliness, or the constant, gnawing sense that he didn't matter. It was everything, all at once. The world felt like a trap, an inescapable cycle of monotony, one day bleeding into the next with no end in sight. The moments of hope or joy, when they came, were fleeting—snatched away before he could hold on to them.
"I wish the world would just… end," he whispered into the silence, barely aware of what he was saying.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt something shift around him. The air thickened, pressing down on him like a weight. The distant hum of the city outside suddenly stopped, replaced by an unnatural silence that made Eli's skin crawl. His heart began to race, a prickling sensation creeping up the back of his neck.
Eli sat up, eyes scanning the room as if expecting something—anything—to happen. But the silence only deepened, as if the world itself had paused. Then, slowly, the familiar sounds of the city returned, faint but steady. His heart continued to pound, but nothing else seemed out of place.
Shaking his head, he let out a bitter laugh. "Stupid," he muttered, lying back down and closing his eyes. "Like that would change anything."
But the uneasy feeling lingered in his chest, gnawing at the edges of his mind as he drifted into a restless sleep.
Day 2: The Red Sky
The next morning, Eli woke to a strange light filtering through his window. His eyelids fluttered as he squinted against the brightness, trying to remember what day it was. Had he overslept? Why was the light so… red?
He groaned, pushing himself out of bed and stumbling over to the window. As soon as he pulled the curtains back, his heart froze in his chest.
The sky was an unnatural, burning red, swirling with dark clouds that pulsed with strange green lightning. The clouds churned, moving in ways they shouldn't, as if they were alive. The air outside seemed thicker, as though the world had been bathed in a sickly haze.
Eli's mouth went dry. "What the hell?"
His mind scrambled to find a logical explanation—some freak weather event, maybe an eclipse—but nothing made sense. He grabbed his phone, fingers trembling as he checked the news. No service. No internet.
He stood in his apartment, paralyzed with confusion and fear. Part of him wanted to stay there, to lock the door and hide under his blankets until whatever this was passed. But the pull of curiosity—and the nagging fear that something much worse was happening—pushed him outside.
The streets were in chaos.
People ran past him, some screaming, others crying. Cars were abandoned, their drivers gone, and the ground trembled beneath his feet. Buildings groaned, and in the distance, Eli saw an office tower collapse in a cloud of dust and debris.
But what truly terrified him were the creatures.
They were tall, pale, and impossibly thin, with elongated limbs and faces that barely resembled anything human. Their eyes glowed an eerie white, and their mouths hung open in grotesque, silent screams. They moved through the streets like shadows, gliding instead of walking, their heads twisting unnaturally as they scanned for movement.
Eli's legs felt like they were made of lead, rooted to the spot as he watched one of the creatures pounce on a nearby man. The man screamed, but it was cut short as the creature's hand reached through him, turning his body to ash in an instant.
Run. Run. Run.
The voice in Eli's head screamed at him to move, but his body wouldn't obey. It wasn't until the creature turned its head in his direction—those glowing eyes locking onto him—that he finally broke free from the paralysis.
Without thinking, Eli spun on his heel and ran. His legs pumped furiously, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he darted through the streets, dodging debris and skirting around abandoned cars. Behind him, he could hear the faint, eerie sound of the creature's gliding footsteps, its presence pressing down on him like a shadow.
Eli didn't stop. He couldn't. His instincts took over, guiding his every move. He weaved through alleyways, ducked behind dumpsters, and crawled under broken fences. Each time the creature got too close, he found a way to escape, slipping through narrow gaps and sprinting toward the next hiding spot.
By the time he reached a half-collapsed diner on the edge of the city, his legs were shaking, and his lungs burned from exertion. He threw himself through the broken doorway, collapsing onto the cold, tiled floor. His heart pounded in his ears, and his vision blurred, but for now, he was safe.
Day 3: The Ruined City
Eli spent the next day hiding in the ruins of the diner, watching the world unravel around him. Every few hours, he heard the distant screech of collapsing buildings or the unsettling sound of Wraithkin moving through the streets. The creatures didn't stop; they roamed tirelessly, searching for anyone foolish enough to leave their hiding places.
His mind was a whirl of fear, exhaustion, and guilt. Had this happened because of his wish? It was absurd to think that one whispered desire could change the world, but the thought gnawed at him.
He kept replaying the moment in his head—the way the air had shifted, the silence that followed his words. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense.
By midday, hunger gnawed at his insides, a sharp pain that reminded him he couldn't stay hidden forever. Eli knew he had to find food, water, something to keep him going. He didn't know how long the world would stay like this, but if he was going to survive, he couldn't wait around for someone to rescue him.
His legs still ached from yesterday's sprint, but he forced himself to stand. Every sound made him jump—the distant crumbling of a building, the eerie silence that followed each tremor. The Wraithkin were out there, watching, hunting. He could feel it.
With slow, deliberate steps, Eli crept through the ruins of the diner and out into the open. His heart pounded as he scanned the streets, his eyes flicking from shadow to shadow, expecting a creature to appear at any moment. But the street was empty, for now.
He moved quickly, sticking close to the walls of buildings and ducking behind anything that could offer cover. Each time he heard the faint hiss of the Wraithkin, he froze, heart in his throat, waiting for them to pass.
He was starting to realize something: He was good at this. Maybe it was the years of being overlooked, the habit of making himself small and unnoticed, but Eli had a knack for disappearing. He knew when to move, when to hide, when to run. The world around him was dangerous, but somehow, his instincts kept him alive.
The problem was, instinct wouldn't feed him.
Eli reached a convenience store that looked mostly intact. The windows were shattered, but the shelves inside were still partially stocked. He ducked inside, keeping low as he scanned the aisles. Most of the food had been taken, but he managed to find a few cans of soup and a dusty bottle of water. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
As he rummaged through the shelves, a low growl echoed from outside. His stomach dropped. They're here.
Without thinking, Eli grabbed what he could and darted to the back of the store, slipping through a broken window and into the alleyway behind it. He crouched low, pressing his back against the wall as the growls grew closer. His heart pounded in his chest, and sweat beaded on his forehead, but he stayed perfectly still.
The Wraithkin glided past the store, their glowing eyes scanning the street. Eli held his breath, counting the seconds until they moved on.
Finally, when the sounds faded into the distance, he let out a shaky exhale. His body trembled, the adrenaline still coursing through him, but he had survived.