The cult members' voices rose higher and higher, their throats straining as they chanted the evil spell. The full moon, which had been blazing proudly in the night sky, suddenly vanished behind a surge of black clouds. The air grew heavy, thick with a suffocating darkness. From the shadows came a hideous laughter—like something clawing at the edges of sanity.
It felt as though Satan himself had descended upon the earth, his grip closing over Zemura Village.
The villagers and the travelers who had come for the festival moved like puppets without strings of their own. Their eyes were pitch-black, their faces twisted into vacant masks. Bewitched, stripped of will, they drifted like shadows through the streets. The demon's hunger had begun its feast.
Inside the house, Kin sat tensely on the sofa, his voice trembling as he spoke to Zavrion.
"I don't know why, but I feel… something terrible. As if something truly bad is happening right now."
Zavrion pressed his lips together, his brows furrowed. "I feel it too."
In the bedroom, Vixen stirred. He reached for Kin, but found the bed empty. His chest tightened. He rushed to the hall, his steps heavy with dread. There, he found Kin and Kenny with Zavrion. Their faces carried the weight of unease, their eyes clouded with fear.
"What are you all doing here at this hour?" Vixen demanded, his voice sharp. "You should be asleep."
Zavrion placed a hand gently on Vixen's back, his eyes worried. "Dad… I think something's happening in the village."
Vixen's jaw tensed. "We'll check tomorrow morning. Right now you need to stay and protect Kenny and Kin. They were both possessed earlier tonight. They're vulnerable. I'll go see if the travelers are safe."
"No," Vixen said firmly. "It's too dangerous."
But Zavrion had already grabbed his coat and torch. He stepped into the biting night air, his face set with grim determination.
"Zavrion!" Vixen called after him, his voice breaking the silence of the house. But the young man did not stop. With a curse, Vixen pulled on his own coat and hurried after him.
They reached the guesthouse where the visitors from the city had been staying. From a distance, Vixen froze. His blood ran cold.
A crowd had gathered in the street—villagers and travelers alike. It was as if the entire village had been swallowed by the night. Faces upon faces, all turned toward them. None of them spoke. None of them blinked.
"What is this…?" Vixen whispered. "Why are you all outside at this hour?"
Zavrion turned, his face tight with anger and fear. "You shouldn't have followed me, Dad. I could have handled this alone. Kenny and Kin are still in danger at home."
Vixen ignored him. His eyes stayed locked on the villagers, his voice cutting through the silence.
"Why are you here? Why are you all out so late?"
At the sound of his voice, the villagers and travelers lifted their heads in unison. Their eyes gleamed wetly in the moonlight—like the eyes of predators.
Every single one of them smiled.
Not a human smile. A grotesque, stretched curve of lips that didn't belong on human faces.
Vixen's heart hammered in his chest as he realized—they weren't simply looking at him. They were moving. The crowd's gleaming eyes were inching closer, their black pupils fixed on him and Zavrion, slowly advancing through the dark.
The night swallowed every sound except for the faint, wet sound of feet dragging across the dirt.
And those eyes. Those endless, shining eyes.
To be Continued...