For a while, Nyx lingered near the house where he had first woken up. He didn't dare wander too far—not because he was physically weak, but because the village itself… it felt wrong. Like something was watching. The shadows clung too tightly to the edges of buildings, and the wind, though absent, seemed to whisper things that weren't meant to be heard.
The huts closest to him were old and brittle. Roofs had partially caved in, doors hung loose from rusted hinges, and layers of thick dust covered everything like a shroud. He pushed open a few doors, each creaking like a dying creature. Inside, the houses were empty. Not just vacant, but hollow—like no one had lived in them for decades. No signs of life. No food. Not even rats.
"Just dust," he muttered under his breath. The stale air smelled of rot and forgotten things.
Eventually, he returned to the first hut and sat down on the broken bed again. His stomach growled, a low, aching reminder of his near-empty state.
"I'm dying of hunger… Aah…" he groaned, clutching his stomach with a wince. There was irritation in his voice, but also a helplessness. He'd eaten nothing but half a piece of stale bread all day.
[Just check the room again. Maybe there's something you can eat,]
Love said, her voice slightly more serious now.
He sighed, pulled himself to his feet, and shuffled back into the shadows of the room. After a brief search, he found a bottle of water sitting under a collapsed shelf. It was only half full, but at least it was something.
"It's just half…" he whispered sadly, unscrewing the cap and drinking it all in one go. The coldness soothed his throat but did nothing for the ache in his belly. He tossed the empty bottle to the floor and slumped back down onto the bed, exhaling in frustration.
"I don't know why she dumped me in this creepy, abandoned village without food or even a damn blanket. But I'm done. I'm leaving this place."
He stood again and made his way to the door—but paused, eyes catching the faint, flickering light of the lantern still burning on the wall. It was attached to the wood by iron brackets—clearly something that couldn't be moved or carried away.
"She saved me from those assassins," he murmured to himself, stepping closer to the flame. "I think I can at least do this one small thing for her."
[And what exactly are you going to do?]
Love asked, suspicious.
"I'll put the lantern out. If it keeps burning, it'll waste the oil. This way… I save it for her, right?"
He smiled gently and blew on the flame. It sputtered and died, plunging the room into darkness.
[You are such a dumb idi—]
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
A piercing scream tore through the night, silencing Love mid-sentence. It was a woman's voice—but not human. It was too raw, too broken. The sound hit Nyx like a blade to the spine.
His heart froze.
Then he moved.
Without a second thought, Nyx bolted from the hut, leaping over the door's broken frame and sprinting into the pitch-black village. He didn't look toward the source of the scream—he didn't want to see whatever had made it.
He ran the opposite direction. Fast. Breath sharp in his throat. Eyes locked forward.
Another scream, louder this time—closer. It echoed through the streets like it was chasing him. And then came the sound of footsteps—massive, thundering, inhuman. The ground seemed to tremble beneath them.
"No no no no no—" Nyx muttered, breath panicked, barely able to speak.
His legs burned, lungs screamed for air, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Fear twisted his stomach worse than hunger ever had.
A third scream—right behind him.
His ears rang. Pain bloomed at the base of his skull from the force of it. He clenched his jaw and ran harder, teeth gritting against the tears that now streamed down his cheeks.
Ahead, beyond the rows of dead houses, he saw trees—dense, shadowy outlines. A forest.
Safety.
Maybe.
He pushed harder.
Then the scream came again—so close it felt like it came from inside his head. A wave of cold ran through him, numbing his limbs.
"AaaaaaaaaaAAAAA—!"
"Aaaaaaa!" he screamed back, sobbing. He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. He didn't dare turn around.
"STOP! AAAAAAA—AND TURN AROUND!"
He heard it —wordsin the scream this time, twisted by rage and something unnatural.
The voice was not that of just one woman but it seemed as if many people were screaming together from the same place.
But he kept running.
"No no no no—!"
His vision blurred as exhaustion crept up his spine. His legs threatened to give out.
When that final scream echoed through the night, it was like a shockwave crashing through Nyx's entire body. His spine stiffened, his arms went numb, and for a moment—just a moment—his feet nearly gave way beneath him. It was as if the scream had stolen the warmth from his blood, leaving him frozen mid-motion.
But fear was stronger.
Even with his body trembling and his breath ragged, he didn't stop. He forced his legs to move, to pump harder, faster. Pain bloomed in his knees, fire burned in his lungs, but he kept going. The primal instinct to survive overwhelmed every other thought.
Trees began to rise in the distance—tall, black silhouettes against a starless sky. A forest.
It looked just as ominous as the village, perhaps even worse, but to Nyx it was salvation. He broke through the village's edge and into the forest's shadowed arms without hesitation.
Twigs snapped beneath his feet. Branches clawed at his face. Thorns tore at his clothes. But he didn't care.
He was in the forest now—safe, maybe. But he didn't slow down.
Then—
"STOOOOOOP! AAAAAaaaaaa!"
That voice again. The scream. But this time… it was different. The raw power in it was fading, crumbling like a wave retreating from shore. The pitch trembled, lost its ferocity—sounding less like a predator and more like something desperate. Distant.
Weaker.
Still, Nyx didn't dare look back. He couldn't.
Even though the sound was fading, even though the ground behind him fell silent, he couldn't stop running. His legs moved on their own now—driven by terror. His mind whispered that stopping meant death, and he obeyed.
Leaves whipped his face. Rocks dug into his soles. Cold wind sliced against his skin, but none of it slowed him.
He didn't know how far he had run. Minutes? Miles? The scream was gone now—completely swallowed by the forest. But Nyx still didn't look back.
He just kept running.