The wind howled louder, and Rune's eyes darted around the destruction, searching for any sign of hope. But the world had already turned against him.
And then he saw it.
In the shadow of a broken building, crouched low in the wreckage, was a creature—a goblin, its eyes glowing an unnatural yellow as it watched him with a cold, unblinking stare. It was small, twisted, and hunched, but its presence was suffocating, like the weight of all the loss Rune had just experienced had been funneled into this one, horrific being.
Rune's breath caught in his throat. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs felt like they had turned to stone. This thing, this monster—it had been part of the destruction. It had been part of the carnage that had wiped out his entire village. And now it was watching him, its lips curling into a twisted grin, as if savoring the last shred of his hope.
It slowly moved toward him, and Rune's heart raced. He wanted to fight. He wanted to scream, to do anything to make this stop. But what could he do? He was just a boy. His parents were gone. His sister was gone. And all that was left was the wreckage of his life.
"Why?" Rune whispered, his voice barely audible. The goblin cocked its head, as if considering the question. Then, with a cruel, mocking laugh, the goblin creeped forward.
Rune stared at the spot where it had been, his mind numb, his body trembling. He was alone. His world had been torn apart by creatures he had never even believed existed. Fate had stolen everything from him, leaving him with nothing but pain, loss, and emptiness.
The rain continued to pour, the thunder still echoing through the night, but to Rune, it was all just background noise to the silence that had consumed his heart.
Rune's breath was shallow, heart pounding in his chest as the goblin crept closer. Its eyes gleamed maliciously, and its twisted, jagged teeth seemed to stretch wider in a grin that sent chills down his spine. The creature's long, clawed hands reached out toward him, and Rune's legs trembled as he instinctively stumbled backward.
He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His vision blurred, the world around him spinning. The goblin's footsteps were slow, deliberate, savoring every second of the fear it was instilling in him.
Rune's pulse hammered in his ears, his throat dry, unable to make a sound as he hit the wet earth behind him. His body was frozen, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he wished he could just disappear. He didn't want to die here. Not like this.
But then, the goblin lunged.
Rune gasped, the terror overwhelming him for a split second, his body too slow to react as the creature pounced.
But just as the goblin's claws were about to reach him, a sharp, metallic sound rang out. The goblin's body jerked back as it screeched in surprise, its eyes wide in momentary confusion.
Rune, still frozen in place, stared in disbelief.
Then, before the goblin could recover, a streak of silver flashed through the air. The creature's head snapped back with a sickening crack, its body crumpling to the ground in a heap. Blood splattered across the muddy ground as the goblin let out a final, gurgled scream, its twisted grin falling away.
A figure in shining armor appeared, standing tall and imposing, sword still raised in a combat stance. Rune's eyes widened as more armored figures emerged from the darkness, their swords drawn and their faces grim.
The knight who had slain the goblin lowered his blade, his eyes briefly scanning the devastation of the village. "Is there anyone left alive here?" he called out to the others, his voice deep and authoritative. The other knights spread out, their eyes scanning the wreckage for survivors.
Rune lay there, still on the ground, unable to move. His breath came in ragged gasps, still in shock from the encounter. But as the knights' presence began to steady his mind, something shifted inside him. He could feel his fear being replaced with something else—something deeper, more primal.
He looked down at the lifeless goblin, his mind slowly beginning to process the events that had transpired.
The storm had ripped his world apart. His parents were dead, his sister was missing, and everything he had known was now shattered beyond recognition. But there was something else, something that burned within him now, an anger so intense it felt like fire coursing through his veins. He wasn't the scared, helpless boy anymore. Not here. Not now.
Rune's lips trembled as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, but clear enough to be heard through the silence that had fallen over the wreckage. "Why did you take everything from me?"
It was quiet at first. His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. The fear, the hopelessness—they still lingered in his chest. But as the words left his lips, they carried more weight than just the tremors of a scared boy. His eyes hardened, and for the first time, a fire burned behind them. The pain, the loss—it didn't matter anymore. He had lost everything, but that wouldn't be his story. It couldn't be.
The knights paused, their gazes flicking toward Rune as his words echoed in the night. For a brief moment, the air seemed to hold its breath.
Another goblin appeared from a big batch of bushes
Runes eyes looked dull but fierce
he was shaking yet he was calm.
The goblin's face flashed before his eyes—its mocking grin, its malicious eyes. The creature had torn his world apart, but Rune wasn't going to let it be the end of his story. Not now.
And then, in a split second, the goblin's smiling face turned to the grotesque sneer of the creature that had once terrified him. It cackled, its eyes gleaming with twisted delight as it prepared to attack again, a fresh wave of malice in its twisted grin.
But Rune... Rune didn't flinch.
The goblin lunged again, but this time, Rune was ready.
Before he could even fully comprehend the movement, the knight who had killed the first goblin stepped forward with a fluid motion, his sword cleaving through the air. In one clean stroke, the goblin's arm was severed, and it let out a screech of agony. The creature fell to the ground, its limbs twitching, before the knight delivered a final blow, severing its head from its body.
The knights were quick, efficient. There was no hesitation. Rune watched, his eyes wide, as the knights moved with practiced precision. The village was filled with them now, their armor gleaming in the dim light as they worked together to eliminate the remaining monsters, their swords flashing like lightning through the storm.
Rune didn't know what to think. His mind was still reeling, still trying to piece together the horror that had unfolded in front of him. But one thing was certain: his world had been destroyed. The monsters had taken everything—his family, his home, his peace—and he was left to pick up the pieces.
And as he watched the knights move through the village, methodically clearing out the remaining threats, something inside him clicked. This wasn't the end of his story. He had no idea what the future held, but one thing was for sure: he would never be the frightened boy again.
Rune's eyes widened. The shock of the battle still buzzed in his ears, and his legs felt like jelly. His body ached, his strength gone. He felt himself swayed, barely able to keep his balance.
But then, as if the weight of everything finally caught up to him, his vision darkened. His breath caught in his throat, and his limbs suddenly felt like they were made of lead. He teetered on the edge of consciousness.
Rune's eyes flickered toward the outstretched hand, his chest tight, his thoughts racing. His body felt as though it would collapse at any moment. He forced himself to take one step forward, but his legs failed him.
His vision blurred, the edges of his world becoming distant and unclear. He reached for the knight's hand, but as his fingers brushed against it, a wave of darkness washed over him.
And then, everything went black.
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