The green fields stretched endlessly into the horizon, their vibrant colors a mockery of the horrors to come. The sky, an unbroken expanse of blue, was deceivingly peaceful, while distant mountains loomed ominously, encircling the land like indifferent sentinels. A warm breeze carried the scent of blooming plants and rushing rivers, the air sweet with nature's perfume. It was a paradise—an illusion of peace hiding the blood that would soon stain this land.
On the soft grass, two figures lay intertwined in the simplicity of youth and ignorance. Darius, a tall young man with coal-black hair, bore the rough hands of a farmer—proof of long days of toil. His face was gentle, contrasting sharply with the calluses on his palms. Beside him, Lauren, her red hair catching the sunlight like flames, had freckles that danced across her face, adding to her earthy beauty. Her knees were marred with scrapes, telling the story of days spent in the fields. They wore simple farm clothes, blending into the idyllic scenery, their world no more than the earth, sky, and each other.
"Darius, what do you think?" Lauren asked, her voice a melody, innocent and soft.
"I don't think they're ready to know about us yet, Lauren," Darius replied, his voice heavy with caution.
Lauren's pout deepened, her dissatisfaction bubbling to the surface. "You always say that," she muttered, her fingers clutching his calloused hand with childish impatience.
"We have to wait," he whispered, pulling her closer. "We'll tell them when the time is right."
But Lauren's smile soon returned, her hand pressing his against her chest. "Promise me next time, no more delays," she pleaded, her eyes shining with hope.
"I promise," Darius answered, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her lips. His gaze drifted toward the sky, the weight of his words sinking in. "Once we tell them, I'll make you my wife."
Lauren's eyes lit up at his declaration, and she leaped into his arms, kissing him passionately. "Really? You mean it?"
"Yes," Darius assured her, smiling as her happiness wrapped around him like a warm blanket. "I'll take you as my wife."
"Then I'll tell you something tomorrow," Lauren whispered playfully into his ear before breaking away with a carefree laugh.
"What is it?" Darius asked, his curiosity piqued.
She paused, casting him a sly smile. "It's your birthday, silly! You'll find out tomorrow!" And with that, she ran off into the distance, her laughter trailing behind her, leaving Darius alone with the night approaching fast.
"That girl," he muttered, smiling to himself as he began to follow her.
As the darkness crept in, Darius finally made his way back home. The moon cast a cold, silvery glow over the landscape, contrasting sharply with the warmth that had filled the day. But something was wrong. His house, usually alive with light and the noise of his siblings, was eerily dark and silent.
"Why is it so quiet?" he murmured, approaching the house with a growing sense of dread. The door was slightly ajar, as though inviting him into a nightmare.
His heart pounded as he stepped inside. "Mom? Dad?"
Silence.
"Everyone, stop playing around!" His voice cracked as fear clawed at his throat. But only the oppressive silence answered him. He took another step—and his foot landed in something wet.
A sickening, metallic smell hit his nostrils.
"What…?" His breath quickened as he fumbled for the light switch. The moment the bulb flickered to life, the world came crashing down around him.
Blood. Everywhere.
His parents lay in a grotesque heap on the floor, unrecognizable. His mother's face was mutilated beyond comprehension, her eyes gouged out, her lower jaw missing. His father's intestines spilled grotesquely from a gaping wound, his eyes vacant and lifeless.
"No! No!" Darius screamed, his legs collapsing beneath him as tears streamed down his face. His hands trembled as he reached out to his parents' bodies, but they were cold—so cold. "Mom! Dad!"
He wanted to scream, to cry, to wake up from this living nightmare, but the horror wasn't over yet. His mind raced as a chilling realization hit him.
"Where are my sisters?!"
He bolted up the stairs, his feet barely touching the ground. When he kicked open the door to his sisters' room, the sight that greeted him shattered his soul. Astrid and Jeane, the two girls who used to fill the house with laughter, lay motionless on the floor, their small, lifeless bodies mutilated beyond recognition. Their heads had been severed, cruelly placed beside their torsos like some twisted mockery of their innocence.
"No!" Darius's scream tore through the silence. He fell to his knees, weeping uncontrollably, his heart breaking with every sob. His mind reeled with images of the pain they must have felt, the fear in their final moments.
"Who did this!?" he howled, his voice raw and desperate. His tears blurred his vision, but suddenly, a weak voice cut through the madness.
"Darius…"
His father, still alive, barely clinging to life, his mangled hand reaching out weakly from the pool of blood.
"Father!" Darius crawled to his side, tears streaming down his face. "You're alive!"
"Not for long…" his father rasped, coughing up blood with every breath. His body shuddered, each word a battle. "You…you have to save them…"
Darius leaned in, his mind spinning. "Who? Save who?"
"They're going after… Lauren…" His father's last words were choked out in a violent fit of coughing before his body finally went limp, his lifeblood pooling around him.
"No! Father!" Darius wailed, clutching his father's lifeless body, but it was too late. His family—gone, slaughtered before his eyes.
"They're after Lauren…" The words echoed in his mind, fueling his rage and terror. "Who's they?!"
Without thinking, he stumbled to the kitchen, grabbing a knife with shaking hands. Bloodstained and frantic, Darius bolted out the door, running into the night. His mind raced, every step bringing him closer to Lauren's home. The wind no longer felt warm and gentle—it was cold and sharp, cutting through the peaceful facade of paradise.
"Lauren… I'm coming."