It was through the wooden gate leading into the backyard that he carefully walked through, still staying wary of what may be lurking around. As he made his way to the back, he was relieved to find it free of any signs of monsters; the garden of vibrant flowers and crops were still intact.
He knelt down, finding the ripe berries that grew in the backyard still healthy; a discovery that yet again filled him with hope. As he touched the strawberry, he recalled all the times he'd been back here in his days as a child, helping to tend to the garden.
"Finn," Damian called his name with a tone intertwined with nothing akin to hope.
"What is it–"
As he returned to his feet and looked back, all of that optimism that had risen was cast away like a candlelight to a breath of wind.
The back door to the house was completely knocked off its hinges as if blown away by an inhuman force. Along the threshold was a perfect stain of blood forming a ring around the entrance.
"That's…" Finn began to say, feeling his chest tighten as he didn't know what to think.
"Come on. I'll stay in front–just watch my back, alright?" Damian assured him, looking at him to make sure he was capable of doing that.
Finn slowly nodded as a feverish sensation made his head hot, "Right…Yeah, right behind you."
Walking behind the axe-wielding man into the back of his old home, he could sense that Damian was staying ahead to shoulder the burden for him. The man he miraculously met seemed good hearted; almost too much so for as cruel as the world was becoming.
"Don't see nothin' yet," Damian whispered, stepping into a hallway right beyond the back door.
Finn didn't say anything, instead keeping a close eye on the state of the interior. To his right immediately upon walking in, he looked into the kitchen.
What he found from a quick look as it was mostly organized, except for the rack of knives was toppled over, notably missing one. It wasn't something he liked to see, but he chose not to think too hard about it.
Each step was taken slowly as both men moved through the hallway; Finn's steps remained silent, while Damian's heavier footsteps caused the floorboards to creak ever so slightly.
There was an unspoken feeling both men shared; something was amiss, prompting them both to be ready for a fight.
"Where would she be hiding?" Damian asked in a whisper.
"I don't know–maybe the basement?" Finn quietly replied, nervously fixing his grip on his dagger.
As he answered, he found the man in front of him stopping just at the end of the hallway that led into the living room.
He was confused by the sudden pause, looking at Damian's back for a moment before speaking up, "Hey, what's up?"
"Don't look," Damian suddenly told him. "Don't look, Finn."
Being told such a thing immediately picked at the curiosity in his brain, though as he tried to push by the taller, brawnier figure, he was stopped.
"Hey–what the hell is it?" Finn asked, being bothered by the lack of information.
Damian grabbed onto both of his arms to keep him in the hallway, using his large frame to block Finn's view as he spoke to him, "--Just trust me, man. Don't."
As the heartfelt words of warning were given to him, he caught a glimpse of what was in the living room. It instantly etched itself into his mind–a sickening sight that made his stomach drop to the deepest pits.
There was only a splatter against the couch, left imprinted in the silhouette of a woman, yet a body no longer existed; a foul remnant left by nothing less than a monster.
"That's–it can't be, no," Finn shook his head as tears welled in his eyes, rejecting the only possible explanation that came to mind.
Damian looked at him, placing words in his face as he forced Finn to look only at him, "Don't think about it! Listen, don't think about what happened–"
In the midst of the man's words of advice, the warrior suddenly stopped speaking as he tensed up, stumbling forward.
Finn was momentarily taken out of his trance of grief, looking at his companion, "Hey, are you alright?"
As he checked on Damian, he found that the man had a gash across his back, leaking out blood. Seeing such a fresh wound naturally brought him to look up at what was responsible for the surprise assault.
"Nrgh!" Damian winced, nearly falling over.
Finn propped his companion up, standing beside him as they both faced the entity responsible for the sneak attack. What showed itself was a lanky humanoid with skin as black as night and sharp, elf-like ears.
"What the hell is that?!" Damian asked, keeping his axe raised as he clearly felt the wound on his back.
"A Nachtalb," Finn recognized, attempting to steady his breathing. "This is bad."
The humanoid entity stayed at the end of the hall as blood dripped from its long, claw-like fingers, seeming frighteningly capable of caution itself. Its eyes had a white glow like the moon during dusk; a phantom stare that belonged to something far from human.
Seeing the creature before him and the horrific sight in the room ahead, he placed it together easily as to what happened.
"Careful…" Finn warned quietly, breathing out as he felt his heart thumping, having to swallow his own grief for the moment. "A Nachtalb is tough. If you let it touch you, it'll compress that part of your body–it's a one-shot kill, at least at our current strength."
"Shit…Shit, that's scary! Alright, let's do this!" Damian said, more so seeming to be talking to himself to overcome the dreadful situation.
As both men readied themselves to confront the white-eyed monster, it raised a single hand with its calm, unmoving expression.
Finn recognized the gesture, yelling out as he ducked towards the room to his right, "Move!"
Just as both men moved, a force burrowed through the narrow hallway. It was imperceivable, only its destructive output was able to be seen.
From Finn's view, watching from the kitchen, it was like a condensed wind tore through the hall, ripping up the wooden floorboards and scraping against the walls.
He could see across from him, in the bathroom, that Damian looked like he'd just seen a ghost after witnessing the violent torrent shred the corridor.
"The hell was that?!" Damian asked hurriedly.
"It compresses whatever it touches!" Finn informed him, wiping the sweat from his chin. "Right then, it touched the wind and shot it at us!"
As the explanation was given, he immediately dropped down, chest to the ground, as his instincts told him to do so. The wall that closed off the kitchen from the living room was suddenly burst through by the violent compression of wind, tossing chunks of drywall and kitchen utensils in every direction.
'Shit!--This is bad! A Nachtalb is too strong for our current level…I have to stop thinking this is Avalon–it's not. This is reality; it's much more cruel and unforgiving–I just have to make it work,' he thought, covering his head as debris rained down.