Nathan sat in the darkness, knees pulled to his chest, the crimson glow of the blood moon casting sickly shadows over the broken city around him. His hands trembled as he remembered the sight of Angel's lifeless body, her blood staining the rooftop. It felt like hours had passed, but the weight of her death clung to him like a suffocating fog.
King sat nearby, silent but watchful, his wounds barely tended with strips of torn fabric. They had found temporary refuge in the crumbling remains of an old office building, its walls cracked and windows shattered. The distant growl of the beast still echoed in the night, but it hadn't found them. Not yet.
"We need to keep moving." King's voice was hoarse, his body still battered from the rooftop fight. "That thing is still out there, and we don't have much time."
Nathan didn't respond at first. He couldn't shake the image of Angel's death, the sound of her last breath, the way her eyes had widened in terror before the life left them. His chest felt hollow, and he could hardly breathe under the crushing weight of guilt.
"Nathan..." King's tone softened, though it held urgency. "I know what you're feeling, but we can't stop now. If we do, we're next. Angel wouldn't have wanted that."
At the mention of her name, Nathan snapped. His hands slammed into the cold concrete floor, his voice a low, guttural growl. "Don't—don't tell me what Angel would have wanted!"
King flinched, but didn't back down. "I'm not saying it to hurt you, man. I'm saying it because it's the truth. We have to survive—for her."
Nathan's breath came in short, ragged bursts, his head pounding with rage and grief. He wanted to scream at King, to push him away, to give in to the anger coursing through him. But King was right. As much as it hurt, as much as every part of him wanted to give up, they couldn't. Not yet.
He stood slowly, wiping the blood and dirt from his hands. "Fine. Let's move."
They gathered what little supplies they had left—King's makeshift metal pipe, a few scraps of food they had scavenged, and Nathan's bloodstained blade. The night outside was quiet, too quiet. The air was thick with the stench of decay and death, and every shadow seemed to writhe with unseen dangers.
As they crept through the darkened streets, the atmosphere around them grew heavier. The city, once a place of endless horrors, now felt even more oppressive. The buildings loomed like skeletal giants, their windows shattered and eyes hollow. And the blood moon—forever hanging above them—bathed the world in its unholy light.
"Do you hear that?" King whispered, his eyes scanning the streets.
Nathan froze, listening intently. At first, it was faint, almost like the wind whispering through the cracks of the buildings. But then it grew louder—a soft, melodic hum that sent chills down his spine.
"What the hell is that?" Nathan muttered, gripping his blade tighter.
"We need to keep moving. Stay low." King urged, his voice tense.
They pressed on, the eerie humming growing louder with each step. It wasn't just a sound anymore—it was a presence. Something was watching them. Nathan could feel its eyes, crawling across his skin like icy fingers.
Suddenly, the air grew colder, and the shadows around them seemed to stretch, twisting into unnatural shapes. From the corner of his eye, Nathan saw movement—figures darting in the darkness, their forms too fast to catch.
"We're being hunted," King hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nathan's heart pounded in his chest, fear clawing at his insides. His grip tightened on his blade as he scanned the streets, his eyes darting from one shadow to the next. The figures were drawing closer, their movements more deliberate, like predators stalking their prey.
And then, from the shadows, they emerged.
Dark, twisted creatures—humanoid but grotesque—crept out from the alleyways. Their skin was pale and stretched tight over their bones, their eyes black pits that seemed to swallow the light. Their mouths hung open in silent screams, rows of jagged teeth glinting in the moonlight. Blood dripped from their claws, staining the ground beneath them.
Nathan and King backed away slowly, their weapons raised.
"We can't fight them all," King whispered, his voice shaking.
"No," Nathan agreed, his pulse racing. "But we can try to survive."
The creatures closed in, their movements slow and deliberate, like they were savoring the moment before the kill. Nathan's mind raced, trying to figure out an escape, but there was nowhere to run. They were surrounded.
One of the creatures lunged, its claws slashing through the air. Nathan ducked, barely avoiding the blow, and swung his blade upward. The blade sliced through the creature's chest, black blood spraying from the wound. It let out a high-pitched screech, its body convulsing as it fell to the ground.
But more were coming.
King swung his pipe, knocking one of the creatures back, but another one grabbed him from behind, its claws digging into his shoulder. King cried out in pain, struggling to break free as the creature's teeth sank into his flesh.
"King!" Nathan shouted, slashing at the creature's arm. The creature hissed and recoiled, releasing its grip on King.
But it wasn't enough. There were too many of them. For every creature they struck down, two more appeared from the shadows, their eyeless faces twisted in grotesque hunger.
"We're not going to make it!" King shouted, blood streaming from his wounds.
Nathan gritted his teeth, his mind racing. They couldn't die here. Not like this.
And then, from above, a blinding light erupted.
For a moment, Nathan thought it was the blood moon growing brighter, but no. This was different—purer. The creatures screeched in terror, retreating from the light as it descended upon them.
From within the light, a figure emerged.
Nathan's heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible.
But it was her.
Angel.
Her form was different—her body glowing with an ethereal light, her eyes burning with an otherworldly fire. But it was unmistakably her.
"Angel...?" Nathan whispered, disbelief flooding his senses.
Angel's gaze met his, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stop.
"Get up, Nathan," she said, her voice echoing in the night. "This isn't over yet."