The fear in my screams awoke something inside my grandma.
She stood up as the monster got closer to me. I saw her figure push me out of the way when the monster was about to pierce my body.
I fell to the ground and saw her body being pierced by the hands of that monster. Her mouth covered in blood could only give a faint smile as she was ripped apart in front of my eyes.
I cried without making a noise; after seeing this, I got up and started running away, running like a maniac. The memory of that scene haunted me every time I took a step as I was running.
The more I ran, the more I saw the once green and colorful small village, in which I was raised, now covered in monsters and the remains of the people with whom I shared my entire childhood.
I ran with all my might into the forest. The forest was calm, with no monster in sight. I decided to stay in the forest until I could get over the trauma of that day.
My time in the forest was nothing but pain. I was only twelve years old when I was on my own to hunt and survive.
For the first week in the forest, my goal was to find a river and to create a shelter. The river was very hard to find as there was no nearby forest. I went two days without water, and I was severely dehydrated. Until I found a river.
The river was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It felt like God himself took pity on me. I decided to build my house close to the river.
I could only gather small branches for the first month. The only foods I ate were fish and any fruits that were in the trees. There were many times when I almost died eating something poisonous.
My first year was the worst. The next years were a lot easier as I had developed the skills to hunt for food and to know what fruits and mushrooms were edible.
I stayed in the forest for about three years. Haunted by the nightmare of that day. There wasn't a single night where I didn't dream about that day. A nightmare every day for three years was horrible for my mental health.
There were days when I was close to ending it all, but the sacrifice my grandma made was the only thing keeping me sane through those sleepless nights.
I left the forest as I was so mentally destroyed that I needed human connection. I need someone to love.
I left the forest and started walking mindlessly for weeks until I saw a massive wall.
Before I arrived, I saw the monster appear in front of me. I was petrified; the memories of that day started to replay. My mind amplified the terror to a level that completely differs from reality.
I was paralyzed in fear, traumatized. I was ready to die.
Until I saw the monster get stabbed in the back by a long white sword.
The monster teleported out of my view. I then saw a young adult male. His hair is as white as the milk. His eye colors are inverted. His pupils are black, and his sclera are black. His outfit is pure white and black.
He looked at me and pointed his sword.
"Who are you? Are you also a mythological creature?"
"What? A mythological creature?"
"How do you not know? We have been in this shit hole for about three years. Do you have a blessing from one of the mythological beings?"
"So you also experienced it? Also, what is a blessing?"
"I won't discourse anything as you might be a skinwalker. Just in case, I will handcuff you to take you in for interrogation. If everything is fine, then we will tell you everything."
I, in a blink of an eye, got handcuffed. I walked through the main door. Everyone was looking at me with fear in their eyes. Some had hatred in their eyes as if I was the one who started everything.
I tried asking people, but they all just looked scared and ran away. One drunk guy pointed his shiny sword in front of my neck. The man was talking pure nonsense. If it weren't for the white-haired guy, I would have been beaten up by now.
Now I walked through the city looking nothing like the old cities I used to go to with my grandma. This city looked dull, with many buildings looking rather old even though only three years had passed.
I arrived at a long, dull red building. I entered the building, and the smell of waste instantly entered my nose. The repugnant smell brought me close to throwing up.
The man walked as fast as possible to get away from the smell.
I passed through many monsters, some from mythologies I recognized while others whom I had never read. The most terrifying were the human-monster hybrids.
You could see them fighting the urge to become fully fledged demons.
I arrived at my jail cell. The man shoved me inside as I tried resisting, but the strength gap was too big for me to try and resist.
I stayed there sitting down beside a toilet and a bed. The bed is very uncomfortable to sleep in.
The man suddenly visited me the next day and handed me a notepad and a pen.
I currently find myself writing this to remember and reflect on my life. This is the last page of the notepad. I had scraped so much paper that I ran it dry.
Before I fill the last page, all I want to say is that I am anxious to learn about what truly happened in those three years and mostly about interacting with others without prejudice.
From this moment on I won't write my story; I will live it. Maybe in the future, I will write again, but this is the end. Goodbye.
Yves reached the end of his notepad, but this isn't the end of his story; far from that, this is the start. The start of a greater journey awaits him.