Day 23: Signs of the Unknown
Eli sat there, still breathing heavily, his body tense with lingering dread from the dream. The quiet of the shelter, the slow and steady breathing of Cass and Luke, should have been comforting. But that dream—that swordsman's voice, cold and echoing, still haunted his thoughts.
"Run."
The word felt like an omen, a warning of something approaching. Eli couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just a dream. He ran a hand over his face, trying to shake off the fear that clung to him like a second skin.
He glanced over at Cass. She slept deeply for once, her body still and unmoving except for the faint rise and fall of her chest. Luke was similarly knocked out, sprawled awkwardly against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. For the first time in days, they looked at peace. Eli didn't want to wake them, not after everything they had been through.
Still, that nagging feeling in the back of his mind refused to settle. Something's coming. I don't know what, but it's close.
He stood up quietly, his legs still sore from the day's journey, and made his way to the entrance of the shelter. The barricade Luke had set up was still intact, and there was no sign of movement outside, but Eli couldn't relax. He carefully moved one of the broken boards aside and peered out through a crack.
The landscape outside was bathed in that familiar red glow, casting long shadows across the ruins. The wind had picked up slightly, rustling through the debris, making the entire world seem uneasy and restless. The horizon was still empty, though, and no sound reached Eli's ears except for the occasional gust of wind.
But the feeling of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight, wouldn't leave him.
Eli sat back against the wall, his fingers tapping nervously against his knee. His mind replayed the dream over and over—the field, the swordsman, the falling ruins, and that single word. Run. What was he supposed to run from? Was it a warning of something specific, or was it just his fear manifesting in the form of a nightmare?
He didn't have the answers, but he knew one thing for certain: they couldn't afford to stay here much longer. The ruins weren't safe. They never were.
Hours passed, and Eli drifted in and out of an uneasy rest, still sitting near the entrance of the shelter, keeping watch as best he could. The oppressive silence of the night clung to everything, making every small sound—every creak of the building or shift of the wind—seem amplified. He was too tense to fall into a deep sleep, but the exhaustion from days of constant movement weighed heavily on him.
Just before dawn, a faint noise stirred him from his light doze. At first, he thought he had imagined it—a soft, rhythmic thudding, far off in the distance. But as he focused, the sound grew louder, more distinct. Heavy footsteps.
Eli's heart began to race. He gently nudged Luke, shaking him awake. "Luke. Wake up."
Luke blinked groggily, wiping his eyes. "What's going on?"
"Listen," Eli whispered, motioning toward the barricade. "Something's coming."
Luke rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, his expression turning serious as the sound of the heavy footsteps reached his ears as well. "What is that?"
"I don't know. But we need to be ready."
Eli moved to wake Cass next, gently shaking her shoulder. She stirred slowly, her face contorted in pain as she sat up. "What is it?" she asked, her voice low and tense.
"Something's out there," Eli said quietly. "I don't know what, but it's big."
Cass's eyes immediately sharpened, her exhaustion forgotten as she glanced toward the entrance. The sound of the footsteps was growing louder now, echoing through the ruins like a distant drumbeat.
Luke picked up his machete, his knuckles white around the handle. "Should we move?"
Cass shook her head, her expression grim. "Not yet. If it hasn't seen us, we don't want to give ourselves away. We stay low, we stay quiet. Let it pass."
Eli nodded, though his body was tensed and ready to run. The dream still gnawed at him, the warning echoing in his mind. Run. But he trusted Cass's instincts, and she had been right more times than he could count. If she said to stay put, they would stay.
The three of them crouched low, their backs against the wall, weapons at the ready. The footsteps grew louder, each one sending a faint tremor through the ground beneath them. Whatever it was, it was massive—and getting closer.
Eli's breath caught in his throat as the creature came into view. It lumbered through the ruins, its body huge and hunched, like some twisted, decaying predator. It had the sleek form of a cheetah, but its flesh was scaly and rotting, with patches of its skin peeling away to reveal the raw muscle beneath. Its long tail dragged behind it, twitching with each step, and its mouth hung open, grotesque and filled with jagged, rotting teeth. The stench of decay rolled off it in waves, reaching Eli's nose even from their hiding spot.
The creature's head swiveled slowly as it moved, its sunken, lifeless eyes scanning the area, but it didn't seem to notice them. For a moment, Eli dared to hope it would pass by without incident.
But then, something else appeared.
A figure emerged from the shadows, walking calmly into the open in front of the beast. Eli's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the swordsman from the day before. The same calm posture, the same massive sword slung across his back.
The creature let out a low, guttural growl as it noticed the man, its massive body shifting as it prepared to strike.
But the swordsman didn't flinch. He stood there, waiting, his hand resting on the hilt of his massive sword. The wind picked up, whipping through the ruins as the two figures faced off.
Eli could hardly breathe, his eyes glued to the scene unfolding before him. The swordsman looked almost serene, his face shadowed, his posture relaxed. But there was something about him—something in the way he stood, completely fearless in the face of such a monstrous creature—that sent chills down Eli's spine.
The creature lunged, moving faster than something of its size should have been able to. Its decaying mouth opened wide, its claws raking through the air.
The swordsman moved like lightning. In a single, fluid motion, he drew his sword, the massive blade gleaming in the dim light. The strike was swift and precise, cutting through the creature's neck in one clean motion. The beast's head hit the ground with a sickening thud, and its body collapsed seconds later, twitching as the last remnants of life left it.
For a moment, the swordsman stood still, watching the creature's body as it lay in the dirt. Then, without a word, he wiped the blood from his blade, sheathed it, and walked off, disappearing into the ruins just as silently as he had come.
Eli, Luke, and Cass remained frozen in place, their hearts pounding in their chests.
"That was him," Luke whispered, his voice barely audible. "The guy from before."
Cass nodded, her face pale. "He's no ordinary man. Whoever he is… he's dangerous."
Eli felt his stomach twist with both awe and fear. The swordsman had just taken down a creature that should have killed him. And he had done it without hesitation, without fear.
"Do you think he knows we're here?" Eli asked, his voice trembling.
Cass's eyes darkened. "I don't know. But we can't stay to find out."
Eli nodded, the dream still echoing in his mind.
Run.