"…Pick one from these five. It will accompany you when you get back…"
I looked at the person who spoke, my hands drenched in sweat as something banged against the door of the room we were in. Whatever was outside wanted to get in at any cost. Thankfully, the door held firm.
The person sitting behind a large desk, cluttered with various items, sighed tiredly and said, "Just ignore it… Now, pick one. We… you don't have much time left. I've explained all I know—now please, reach out your hand and pick one before whatever's outside gets inside."
His weary eyes met mine, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. Sweat dripped from my forehead, not just from fear of what was happening here, but from the thoughts of what was happening back home. Taking a deep breath, I reached out and chose one of the five items.
The man sighed, as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He stood up, walked over to me, and without hesitation, shoved me through a door—one that seemed to connect to an entirely different place.
At that exact moment, the door behind us shattered.
A writhing mass of shadowy flesh, dripping with malice incarnate, surged into the room. Tendrils reached out toward me, but before they could touch me, the man swung his weapon, cutting them down.
A chain coiled around my body, pulling me away from the scene. As I was dragged through the mysterious portal, I saw the door that led me there slowly closing.
The last thing I saw was the man smiling as the monsters ripped him apart.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Boredom.
I guess that's what I'm feeling right now. Not that it's bad or anything—I actually like it quite a bit.
"Man, that was one long shift. Thankfully, I have tomorrow off… What should I do? Maybe go shopping? I do need groceries and cleaning supplies… huh?"
A soft sound of surprise escaped me as I noticed something falling slowly toward the ground. Something red.
It looked like snow.
"What the hell? What is that?"
I looked up and saw more of it drifting down. The sky was dark yet cloudless. It was summer, so seeing any type of rain or snow felt… wrong.
As I kept staring at the sky, a sudden screech of tires broke my trance. A car sped down the street before crashing into a wall with a deafening impact.
I instinctively reached into my pocket for my phone, dialing the police as I moved toward the wreck. But then—
I stopped in my tracks.
Something was rushing toward the crashed car. Fast.
Big.
And angry.
"ROOOOAAAAAR!"
A monstrous roar tore through the night as I saw the creature in full view. Its body was black, covered in patches of gray fur. Its mouth was elongated, its jaws reminiscent of a crocodile's. Two long horns jutted out near its eyes, glinting under the streetlights.
At first, I thought it was some kind of bull. But then—
With terrifying ease, its massive jaws clamped down and tore the car in half.
Then, standing on its hind legs, it reached into the wreckage and grabbed the unconscious person inside—or rather, what was left of him.
That thing… it wasn't an animal. It was a monster.
I stood frozen as it lifted the mangled body, its powerful jaws clamping down, swallowing the person whole.
A cold chill ran down my spine.
My phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the pavement with a small noise.
The monster's head snapped toward me.
Its glowing eyes locked onto mine.
It dropped onto all fours.
And then—
It charged.
__________________________________________________________________
As I ran through the cityscape—now overrun with monsters of all shapes and sizes—I witnessed them battling each other, tearing apart both the city and themselves in a chaotic frenzy. I had no time to think about why this was happening, though. The sound of the beast chasing me grew louder, closing in fast.
Thinking quickly, I lunged to the side just as I felt it near. My instincts had saved me—at that exact moment, the creature lunged, crashing straight into a building in its attempt to catch me.
Without wasting a second, I bolted toward a nearby alleyway—one far too narrow for the monster to fit through. Behind me, the beast thrashed and roared in frustration, slamming against the walls in a desperate attempt to reach me.
Gasping for breath, I frantically searched for an escape route. My eyes landed on a fence at the end of the alley. Without hesitation, I sprinted toward it, grabbing onto the metal bars and pulling myself up.
"Where do I go?"
The thought pounded in my head as I swung my legs over and landed on the other side.
"Should I go home?" No—that was too dangerous.
"Maybe… the police station! Yes!" They had guns, trained officers. It had to be safer than hiding in some random building.
But as I caught my breath, I realized the horrifying truth—monsters were everywhere.
A deep, rumbling noise made me look up. Something massive flew overhead, its enormous shadow darkening the street below.
A giant, dinosaur-like monster with four heads soared through the sky, pursued by a swarm of smaller, bird-like creatures.
My stomach twisted with dread.
"Nowhere is safe… I need to get out of here. Now."
I navigated through the winding alleyways, carefully making my way toward the police station. Every few steps, I stopped to check my surroundings, making sure the path was clear before moving forward. The last thing I wanted was to get caught by a monster.
As I moved through another alley, a sound from above caught my attention.
It wasn't a monster this time.
"That's… a plane? The military?!"
Hope flickered for a moment, but I quickly pushed it aside.
"No… let's not bet on that. I need to keep moving toward the police station. That's my best chance at safety."
After several minutes of running between alleyways, I finally made it close to my destination.
But then—
"Shit."
I realized something critical. The police station had no alleyways connecting to it.
That meant I had to take the main road.
The one filled with monsters.
Peering out from my hiding place, I surveyed the street. Unlike the chaotic battles I had seen earlier, only a few monsters lurked here. But these ones were different.
They were predators.
And by the way they moved—coordinated, focused—they hunted in packs.
Unfortunately for me, they seemed to be guarding the only way forward.
And I was their next potential prey.
"Think… think! There has to be a way to the police station!"
"Maybe I can go around?" No, that would take too long… and I couldn't afford to waste time. The whole city was infested with monsters—there was no telling what I might run into if I took a longer route.
"Damn it!" I clenched my fists in frustration. There has to be another way…
Then, a thought crossed my mind.
"Wait! What if I call them?!"
If I could reach the police, I could tell them I was close but trapped—blocked by monsters. Maybe they could help me get inside!
"Yes! That's it!" i reach for my phone only to not feel it in my pocket
"Oh yeah… I dropped it when I saw the monster…"
"FUCK!"
I let out an involuntary shout—then a softer, more fearful, "fuck," as the realization hit me. I was pretty sure something had heard me.
The whole place had gone silent.
"Shit."
I slowly looked up, and my blood ran cold.
The same pack hunters from the road were now perched above me, their predatory eyes locked onto my position.
They were fast.
"Fuck… fuck… FUCK!"
Panic surged through me as I bolted, a string of incoherent curses spilling from my lips. I could feel them closing in—their speed was unreal, faster than sports cars.
But then an idea struck me.
"If they're that fast… maybe they don't have much control."
I started zigzagging, making sharp, unpredictable movements, ensuring I never ran in a straight line.
To my amazement, it worked.
I heard the sound of crashing, followed by pained whines.
But my relief was short-lived.
Before I could react, one of them slammed into me with its massive paw, sending me hurtling through the air at terrifying speeds.
The impact was brutal. I crashed against the ground, bounced, and then hit again. The world spun violently as pain exploded through my body.
I was close to the police station now—but I doubted I could make it.
Each landing sent fresh agony ripping through me. The sound of bones breaking echoed in my ears, and soon, I felt it.
One of my legs had snapped.
Which one? No clue. But the fact that I could see a bone poking out near my head… not a good sign.
I tried to scream—to call for help—but no sound came out.
The pack hunters were approaching.
They had stopped running. Now, they were walking. Slowly. Casually.
They knew I wasn't going anywhere.
My vision blurred. Darkness crept in.
But before everything faded, I felt one last thing—
Someone, or something, lifting me up.
Then, nothing.
__________________________________________________________________
Pain.
Pain. Pain. Holy shit, it hurts!
Those were my first thoughts as I slowly regained consciousness.
The second was the sound of someone shouting—a person.
As my vision returned, I realized I was inside a building. A man in a police uniform stood over me, holding a glowing hand near my body.
The light from his hand seemed to be doing something. I felt warmth spreading from where his hand hovered, slowly traveling through my body.
Then—
"AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHH!"
I screamed as a sudden, sharp pain tore through me—the unmistakable agony of bones being reset and healed.
Maybe one.
Maybe several.
I couldn't tell. My mind was too busy screaming.
Before I could make too much noise, the policeman quickly clamped a hand over my mouth.
"Jesus fuck, kid! Don't do that!" he snapped, eyes wide. "I nearly lost control of this thing. Relax. I'm healing you. Don't ask how—just focus on not screaming."
He took a deep breath before adding, "I'll explain when you're back on your feet. Name's Harold Branden. I'm a police officer. My badge number is XXXXXXX."
Harold was talking. A lot.
Maybe he was trying to distract me from the severe pain. Or maybe he was just as scared and terrified as I was, and this was his way of coping. I couldn't tell.
Eventually, as the pain subsided to a more manageable level, I was able to think somewhat clearly again. It was still there—lingering—but nowhere near as unbearable as before.
I reached up and tapped Harold's hand, the one still covering my mouth. He immediately stopped talking and looked down at me. I motioned for him to let go, and he did, exhaling a deep sigh.
"Hey… Harold, right?" I muttered, my voice hoarse. "Name's Mark. Mark Anderson. I work at a grocery store… and, uh, thanks for healing me. I'm assuming that's what the glowing hands were about?"
Harold let out a nervous chuckle—which quickly broke into full-blown laughter as he fell back onto the floor.
"Oh god… oh, thank god… you're alive!" He gasped between breaths. "I did it… I actually saved someone! Hahaha!"
As he spoke, I finally got a good look at him. His uniform was filthy—covered in dirt, blood, sweat, and tears. His eyes were red and puffy, his forehead glistening.
He'd been working hard. Probably for hours.
I slowly lifted my head, taking in my surroundings.
The police station was crowded with people—survivors, I assumed. But there were also bodies. A lot of bodies.
Some were missing limbs.
Some were missing half their bodies.
And some… were barely recognizable as human.
"HAROLD—EMERGENCY! GET OVER HERE!"
A voice cut through the room.
Another police officer rushed in, looking for Harold.
Harold, still unsteady, turned toward him. His body was trembling, exhaustion evident in his every movement.
The officer raised his hand in an unfamiliar gesture—though if I had to guess, it was meant to calm Harold down.
It seemed to work. Harold took a deep breath, steadied himself, and walked over.
The two of them disappeared into another room.
"Chief… what's going on? More survivors?" Harold asked as he followed the officer.
The police chief stood waiting, his expression grim. He shook his head.
"…It's the military," the chief finally said. "They say they're evacuating civilians, but…" He hesitated before continuing. "They can't make it through the entire city. We have to go to them."
Harold's stomach twisted at those words.
The chief took a breath. "Once I debrief you, you'll need to inform the survivors and find out who can drive. We need to take as many people as we can." He paused, his eyes heavy with unspoken weight. "And Harold… one last thing."
He let out a slow breath before continuing.
"Myself, along with a few other officers, will be clearing the way. I've opened the armory—get armed and give weapons to anyone who can use them. Once you tell the civilians, we'll do everything we can to make sure they reach the evac point."
The chief's face hardened.
"From here on out… you're not a police officer."
Harold's breath caught in his throat.
The chief slowly removed his badge and placed it on the table.
"From this moment forward, don't think about me. Don't think about the other officers. Just think about yourself."
Harold's eyes widened in shock and horror.
"What?! What the fuck?!" He threw his hands up in frustration. "What do you mean they can't make it? What does that even mean?!"
Desperation leaked into his voice. "Let's just wait! Even if we have to hold out for a few days, we'll—"
Before he could finish, the chief cut him off with a single, chilling sentence.
"...They're planning to bomb the entire city."
Harold froze.
"Every square inch of this place will be reduced to rubble."
The chief met Harold's eyes, his voice solemn.
"If we don't make it… we're dead either way."
Harold was stunned.
Afraid.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. The exhaustion of everything that had happened in one night had finally caught up to him.
The chief let out a slow breath before kneeling beside him.
"Look, Harold… son…" His voice was steady, but there was a weight to it. "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear. You're new—wet behind the ears. But let me tell you this…"
He placed a firm hand on Harold's shoulder.
"If you don't step up here… then all your hard work—all those people you saved—it will all be for nothing."
Harold swallowed hard, his breathing shaky.
"So get up. Get armed. And save them."
The chief stood, his expression unreadable.
"Twelve hours. That's all we have."
He took a step back, watching Harold closely.
"You wanted to be a hero. That's why you joined us, right?" His voice softened slightly. "Well, we're not heroes. But you… you're literally healing people with magic."
The chief let out a deep sigh.
"You have to survive. Understand?"
He took one last look at Harold before turning away.
"Now get up. We're running out of time."
________________
Harold and the chief returned, carrying bags filled with guns—everything from pistols to machine guns. Behind them, more officers followed, armed to the teeth.
The chief stepped forward and addressed the crowd.
"Listen up, people. We've just been informed by the military that they're setting up an evacuation point near the center of the city. We will be taking you there. However, we don't have enough drivers to transport everyone, so if you can drive, step up. We will protect you—there's no need to be afraid."
He hesitated for a moment, then added firmly, "I... we promise to save all of you."
As he spoke those last words, he glanced at Harold.
Harold closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, while the survivors erupted into chaos.
"You want us to leave this place? Are you insane?"
"Are you trying to get us killed?"
"Have you seen what's out there?"
Fear and anger boiled over, and the chief struggled to calm the crowd.
But before things spiraled further, Harold finally stepped forward.
"Twelve hours." His voice cut through the noise, commanding attention.
"That's how long we have before this entire city gets blown to bits."
A tense silence settled over the room.
"This monster problem is bigger than just us—bigger than this city. If we don't evacuate, we will die, one way or another. You can take your chances hiding here… maybe in the sewers—if they aren't filled with monsters. Maybe in a bunker—assuming you even know where one is."
Harold swept his gaze over the survivors, letting his words sink in.
"Or… you can come with a caravan of armed police officers to the only fully confirmed safe location."
He took a step closer, his expression hardened with resolve.
"Pick your choice."
______________________________________________________________________
"...I choose the caravan," I say, raising my hand. "And I can shoot. My father was in the military for a while and taught me how to, so I can help defend them."
I stand up, still feeling phantom pain all over my body, making my movements stiff. The chief nods and opens one of the bags of guns.
"Pick your poison... and grab some ammo too."
I take a pistol, though I don't know what kind it is—I was never into guns. All I knew was how to shoot. As I pick up a box of ammo, another person stands up.
"I'll also come..."
"Me too," says another.
"Count me in," adds another survivor.
One by one, more people stand up, choosing to join the caravan.
Soon, everyone had made their decision.
They would go together—hoping to reach the evacuation point in time.