Chapter 76 - Burning Shadows Pursuit
The air shifted.
Moon felt it first—a subtle cooling, as though a storm was quietly waiting beyond the horizon. Kai noticed it too, that strange heaviness pressing down on their skin, the way each breath felt just a little thicker than before.
And then—
A faint shimmer bloomed in the air before them. Lines of pale blue light traced themselves in midair, knitting together into a floating, translucent map projected by the system.
A single crimson pulse throbbed near the edge of the grid—about one kilometer away.
"You see that mark too?" Moon asked, narrowing his eyes as though it might vanish if he blinked too hard.
Kai's gaze stayed fixed on it. "Yeah. And… according to the rules I read earlier, we're not supposed to enter any house without any rules . He tilted his head, as if weighing the thought. "So we avoid all of those, and head straight for this spot."
They moved.
The streets swallowed them quickly.
Dark—too dark, as though the sunlight had been erased rather than blocked. Each house they passed stood like a hollowed carcass, empty windows staring at them like eyeless sockets. Shadows seemed to cling to doorways, reluctant to let go, stretching unnaturally long along the cracked pavement.
Somewhere ahead, faint and broken, came the muffled cry of a child—thin and shivering. Overlapping it, a man's voice spoke low and fast, as though bargaining with someone.
But when Moon and Kai slowed and glanced around, there was no one in sight.
They pressed on, ignoring the voices.
After about ten minutes, the claustrophobic emptiness shifted.
There, tucked between two sagging structures, stood a house that did not match the rest. A small cottage, framed by a modest garden with a single tall tree watching over it.
It wasn't just different.
It felt different.
The other houses had been corpses.
This one… was breathing. Not in a sinister, haunted way—but in a quiet, living warmth, like a hearth fire on a winter night.
In front of the gate, a wooden sign stood in the earth.
Its lettering was clean, as though freshly painted.
Rule 1 – Follow your instinct. You can sleep, relax, anything… just follow your instinct.
Moon and Kai exchanged a long look.
The words on the sign were simple—yet carried that kind of simplicity that made you suspicious. Like when someone says "Don't worry about it" right before you definitely should worry about it.
Still… they stepped inside.
The air was crisp and clean, as if the place had been aired out every morning. Not a speck of dust lingered on the wooden floors. Beds were made so perfectly you could've bounced a coin off them. The curtains hung straight and spotless, their faint scent of soap drifting whenever the breeze from the garden stirred them. Outside the window, the tree's leaves swayed lazily in the dim light, the sound soft and rhythmic—almost like breathing.
For Moon and Kai, this wasn't just a nice house. It was heaven. They hadn't truly slept in days—not since that night with the scratching under the bed. That night had carved itself into their skulls so deeply they could still hear the faint scrape in their memory if they sat still for too long.
Their muscles ached. Their minds felt like they'd been left out in the rain. And the only rule here was "follow your instinct."
Well, their instincts were loud and unanimous: sleep, or die trying.
The moment they lay down, the mattresses swallowed them in a soft, warm embrace. Sleep hit them like a drug. The kind of sleep where you forget your own name, forget time, forget everything.
Moon's last half-conscious thought was: If I died right now, I'd be okay with it… as long as I get to keep sleeping like this.
---
Thirty-eight hours later
Kai's eyes opened slowly. His head felt light, his body strangely weightless—every muscle loose and free of pain. For the first time in forever, he didn't feel like death warmed over.
Then he heard it.
A dull, heavy thud.
Pause.
Another thud.
Followed by the dry, rhythmic scrape of metal tearing into dirt.
Curious, he turned toward the window—
And froze.
Out in the garden, the red-haired, fat butcher stood ankle-deep in the earth, his broad back to the house. His arms moved with a strange, mechanical rhythm, each shovel thrust smooth, precise, and unnervingly calm—like he'd been digging forever and would dig forevermore.
The hairs on Kai's arms rose. He didn't think. He just reached over and shook Moon.
Moon groaned into his pillow. "Mmm… what? Did the breakfast bell ring or somethi—"
"Duck!" Kai hissed.
Moon blinked blearily. "What?"
Without answering, Kai shoved him hard—right off the bed.
Moon hit the floor with a spine-jarring THUD. "Ow! My back, you absolute—"
He didn't finish.
Because outside, the digging stopped.
The butcher straightened slowly, shovel still in hand. His head tilted up, and—without scanning—his eyes locked exactly on their window. His face was… wrong. Too calm. Too knowing.
Then he smiled.
And lifted one meaty, dirt-streaked hand… to wave.
It wasn't friendly. It was I know you're here, and I'm already thinking about how you'll look in a hole like this.
Moon and Kai didn't speak.
They didn't need to.
Every instinct in their bodies screamed in perfect harmony: RUN.
They bolted from the room, feet pounding the spotless floor.
Moon risked one last glance over his shoulder—
And instantly wished he hadn't.
The butcher was no longer just a man.
Flames devoured him entirely, curling up his arms, licking across his face, yet not burning his flesh away. He walked with slow, deliberate strides, each step an unhurried promise.
Moon's lungs burned, but he managed to throw himself at the door, slamming it shut with every ounce of strength he had. His hands fumbled with the lock until it clicked into place.
Only then did he allow himself a single, ragged breath—
—and turned to find Kai already moving.
They rounded the corner—
And Kai froze mid-step.
Moon nearly crashed into him. "Why'd you stop?!" he hissed, still fighting for air.
Kai's voice was flat, his tone edged with warning. "Look."
Moon followed his gaze—
And every drop of warmth drained from his body.
She was there.
The woman. The one who had been haunting the streets, calling for her lost child. Only now, her arms were empty. The perpetual, desperate searching was gone. She just… stood there.
And stared.
Sweat slid cold down Moon's temples. His heartbeat thudded heavy in his ears. But instead of fear, something else rose—thick, hot, irrational anger.
"For weeks you've been creeping on us!" he barked, his voice cracking under the strain. "If you're so tough, why don't you—"
Kai's head whipped toward him, eyes wide. "Moon, don't—"
Too late.
Moon lunged forward, fist pulled back with all the righteous fury he could muster.
And punched straight through her.
There was no resistance.
No impact.
Just cold.
Like plunging his arm into winter water.
Moon's breath caught. His face went pale. "…Oh. Oh no."
The next second, he was already running—nearly tripping over himself—shouting in a panicked stream, "Sorry sorry sorry sorry—our bad—we're idiots—we're so sorry—"
Behind him, Kai's furious voice cut through: "Don't include me in that, idiot!"
The woman didn't seem interested in their apologies.
She moved. Fast. Too fast. Her bare feet made no sound as she surged after them, her long hair streaming in the air like a dark banner.
They skidded around a corner and spotted salvation—a narrow staircase leading up to an attic.
They skidded around the corner,sliding on the floorboards, and there it was—
A narrow wooden staircase bolted to the wall, leading up into a square hatch in the ceiling.
"Go!" Kai barked, practically shoving Moon up the steps.
Moon scrambled, hands slipping once on the worn wood, heart battering his ribs like it wanted out. Kai followed close, grabbing the edge of the hatch and hauling himself inside. Together, they yanked the ladder up and slammed the hatch shut with a deep, echoing BANG.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
They just lay there, chests heaving, lungs clawing for air that felt stale and dry in the attic.
Moon's shirt clung to his back, sweat trickling down his spine in cold lines. His breath came in uneven gasps, each one loud in the silence.
Kai sat upright first, sweat beading along his brow, his hands still clenched into fists. His jaw worked as if he were holding back the urge to yell.
He looked at Moon.
It wasn't just a glare—it was the kind of look that said I have a list of all the ways you've messed up, and punching an actual ghost just went to the top.
"You—" Kai's voice was a low growl, sharp but quiet, as if afraid the sound would travel through the floorboards. "—are an idiot. Do you have any idea—"
Moon waved a shaky hand, not meeting his eyes. "Not now."
That's when it came.
THUMP.
Both froze.
A hollow, dull sound, like someone dropping their weight against the wood.
It came again—
THUMP… THUMP.
And it wasn't above them.
It was below.
The attic floorboards vibrated faintly beneath Moon's palms, the wood groaning as though straining to hold something back. His breath hitched.
Kai's eyes flicked to the hatch, then back to Moon. His lips moved silently: Don't make a sound.
They listened.
The thuds kept coming, not in a frantic rush, but slow, deliberate—like footsteps dragging across the floor beneath them. The pauses between each one were worse than the noise itself, giving Moon just enough time for his heartbeat to roar in his ears before the next impact came.
THUMP…
Pause.
THUMP…
Moon's mind raced. She knows we're here.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple, hung there for a moment, then dripped onto the floor with a soft pat.
He swore the sound was loud enough to be heard downstairs.
Then—
The noise changed.
The thuds grew sharper, faster, like fists pounding against the underside of the attic. Wood splintered faintly. Something scraped along the beams—like nails dragging slow lines across them.
Kai clenched his jaw tighter. Moon saw the muscles twitch in his face, his nostrils flaring as if he was forcing himself not to breathe too loud.
The pounding stopped.
Silence.
So heavy, it felt like the air had thickened into syrup.
Then came the worst sound yet—
A faint, wet laugh.
It didn't echo.
It didn't belong in this house.
It was right under them.
Then, impossibly, she was hanging upside down from the ceiling on all fours, her head twisting unnaturally as she banged it against the wood. Somewhere in the chaos came the sound of a dog barking.
With each slam, her neck cracked a little more—until it was bending at an angle that no human spine should.
Kai's eyes flicked toward the narrow, dust-caked attic window. His voice was a razor-edged whisper.
"We're jumping. Now. Or we're dead."
There was no time to argue. No time to even think.
Kai shoved the window open, the frame groaning in protest. Cold night air rushed in, thick with the smell of ash and something far fouler—burnt meat.
They leapt.
The drop was farther than they'd guessed. Moon's stomach lurched mid-air, the ground racing up to meet him—
CRASH.
They landed hard, the impact tearing a grunt from Kai's chest as he crashed squarely onto Moon.
Moon's ankle twisted under the weight with a sickening crack. Pain exploded up his leg, sharp and hot, nearly stealing the breath from his lungs. He wanted to scream—desperately—but instinct clamped his jaw shut.
Kai rolled off him, eyes already scanning the street. "Up. Move. Now."
Moon staggered upright, every step sending fresh bolts of agony through his ankle. His vision swam, but adrenaline drowned out the worst of it. They ran—
or rather, Kai ran and Moon stumbled beside him, dragging one leg like a man trying to outrun his own shadow.
Behind them, the street was no longer empty.
Two shapes emerged from the darkness—the woman, her hair hanging in damp clumps, her eyes black pools that drank in the light; and the butcher, a walking inferno, skin sloughing off in strips as he strode forward, each step leaving a smear of molten fat on the cobblestones.
They weren't running.
They didn't need to.
Moon's heart battered his ribs. He glance over his shoulder—
The woman's head tilted at an unnatural angle, her mouth moving soundlessly. The butcher's flames flared brighter, illuminating the street in pulses of orange and gold, like the world itself was breathing with him.
And then—salvation.
Through the shifting dark, a shape emerged—a squat, three-story building, its edges blurred by the fog curling low over the ground. A neon sign flickered weakly above its door, the word HOTEL stuttering in broken light.
To Moon, it might as well have been a cathedral.
"There!" he choked out, voice cracking.
They didn't slow. Didn't even check the windows for movement or the door for locks.
Moon's ankle screamed with each step, but his mind refused to register it—because the sound behind them was getting closer.
A wet, dragging shuffle.
A low, greedy crackle of flame.
The shadows of their pursuers stretched long across the ground, reaching for them like fingers.
The hotel's door was just ahead.
Moon and Kai lungs burned. Moon ankle felt like it was tearing apart. But they didn't stop.
Because stopping meant letting the woman and the burning butcher close their hands around them.
And there would be no getting free.
To be continued…