My instincts flared. Every pore was drenched in sweat. My brain hadn't caught up yet, but my body was already bracing for a life-or-death situation.
The sky above stretched unnaturally blue, the golden grass swaying gently in a breeze that seemed too calm for what was coming. The horizon was so vast it made me freeze—like standing at the edge of an abyss. But then my nose twitched. Beneath the familiar earthy smell of grass was something else. Something sharp. Blood.
The grass moved.
A tiny voice, weird and unfamiliar, cut through the quiet. "Ggegek!"
Little humanoid creatures, wearing green cloaks and wooden masks, popped their heads above the grass. Daggers glinted as they slid from cloth sheaths into their tiny hands.
"Ggeheg!" another one called out.
"Ggonggi!" replied the first.
That's when the panic truly hit me. "Oh God… it's a passage," I whispered, disbelief sinking in.
Another one appeared—right in my face. Two black holes where its eyes should be, met mine, and I held its gaze. Every second stretched unbearably.
Then it crouched and lunged with a thud. I barely rolled aside in time. A metallic twang echoed off the brick wall as its dagger got stuck, and it struggled to pull it free.
"This can't be real," I muttered, scrambling toward it.
It finally yanked the blade out and shouted something sharp to its buddies. Suddenly, cheers and battle cries erupted from the passage behind it.
I screamed and bolted, swinging the grocery bag with a can of beans like a makeshift weapon. I nearly tripped over a pothole as I sprinted into the street. People stopped and stared at the crazy guy yelling about some kind of break.
"Passage break! Run for your lives!" I yelled, gasping for air.
Everyone scrambled, panic igniting the crowd. Tiny creatures spilled out, moving faster than I thought possible, slicing through people with terrifying precision. Throats slit, guts spilled, hearts pierced in a blink.
A woman's head rolled, blood pooling beneath her like a sick painting. I whimpered, unable to look away.
Each rapid "whoosh" of those creatures dashing was followed by a scream—a brutal punctuation mark of death.
My heart hammered in my chest, every beat a countdown to my own demise. Then, that dreadful sound again.
Again.
And again.
Turning, I saw one finish off an old man. Its hollow gaze caught mine.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chanted under my breath and ran harder.
My legs screamed, breath ragged, the pounding footsteps closing in. Reflex took over—I swung the grocery bag wildly just as the creature dove at me. The can of beans smashed into its head with a wet twunk, spilling beans everywhere. The bag ripped, raining legumes over the street and knocking it back. Its dagger clattered to the ground.
It was still alive.
I grabbed the jagged weapon before it could reach for it, adrenaline fueling a frenzy I didn't know I had. I plunged the serrated dagger into its back, yelling, "Die, die, die!" like a maniac, ignoring its pathetic yelps. Its tough leathery skin slowly soaked red until it stopped moving.
Then, a burning sensation exploded inside me. Dizzy and numb, shapes blurred and voices whispered nonsense in my ears. Just as I felt myself slipping, the sensation popped like a bubble—and I snapped back.
Clutching the weapon and my shredded bag, I sprinted away.
More creatures gathered near their fallen comrade, shouting something unintelligible. Panic surged again—the tiny footsteps thundering behind me.
I gripped the dagger tighter, briefly considering fighting, but common sense laughed in my face. Still, I wasn't ready to give up the weapon.
Then, out of nowhere, a man in a sharp black suit appeared. Hope flared.
"Help!" I screamed, nearly tripping. "Help me!"
The man vanished just as another thud sounded behind me.
I whirled around, dagger raised for one last desperate swing. But before I could strike, a spear flew through the air, impaling the creature and pinning it to a wall.
I collapsed, nearly slicing myself with the dagger. The suited man returned, joined by others.
A burly guy in fancy clothes swung a blazing blade, cutting one invader in half. Arrows hissed silently, striking others down or forcing them to retreat.
A woman in a red dress smashed one monster to paste with a hammer, followed by a brutal kick to another's skull. Another invader tried to leap at her but was trapped when the ground beneath it split open.
The spear wielder yanked his weapon free and smiled grimly.
One of the little creatures shouted at him. "Ghoggiarra ggungi, gguggingo! Ggongi!"
"Revenge…?" the man chuckled, poised to strike. "You're the invaders here, little one. Our retaliation is just."
He moved with lightning speed, stabbing clean holes through their heads, leaving perfect circles behind.
The man turned to me. I tried to thank him, but my throat felt like sandpaper.
"Hello!" he said. "Please wait while we sort out the break. We'll need you for a witness report."
There was nothing I could say.
Time slipped oddly, slow and fast at once. I remembered fragments—people crying, shouting names that would soon be in obituaries.
Eventually, I snapped out of it, sitting on the street with others while uniformed men and women circled the crowds.
One wrapped me in a foil blanket. At first, I didn't get it. Then the cold hit. My wet clothes clung to me; sweat dripped down my face. I shivered uncontrollably. My hands were the coldest I'd ever felt.
When it was my turn, a paramedic checked me over while an officer shone a light into my eyes and asked some questions I answered with short nods.
Then someone mentioned "insurance." My ears perked up.
"Insurance? Where? Who?"
The officer waved his hand in front of my face. "Sir? You okay?"
"Huh? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a quick question…"
He raised an eyebrow but nodded.
"Do we get, uh… any reimbursement for this… traumatizing event?"
The officer shook his head. "Not my department. Ask a lawyer."
A woman stepped over. After some back and forth about my district, she told me no.
"That's bullshit!" I said.
"Relax, general insurance should cover it," the man soothed, jotting notes.
I looked like I swallowed a lemon. No insurance. Not even medical.
"I used to live here! The border is right there! Doesn't that count?"
"Take it to court if you want."
As if I could afford a lawyer.
Tears stung my eyes. Sure, it was traumatic, but payment would have helped me get through it.
"Wait! I… I killed one! Yes! One of the monsters!"
They glared.
"Not people! Monsters! I killed one."
The officer straightened and asked for details.
I stammered, "I had a grocery bag with a can of beans. I swung it—heard their dash sound—and bam! The can hit one in the head. Then I stabbed it with a dagger. It died."
"Can of beans," he repeated, marking his notes with a dot. "You might want to seek psychiatric help."
"No! I'm not crazy!" I pulled the bloody dagger from under the blanket.
The officer grabbed it calmly. "Even if you did kill one, civilians don't get paid for it. Unqualified individuals should evacuate."
He handed the dagger away and looked at me again. "But if you did, maybe you could manifest a prime."
I deflated. Right, a prime. Like winning the lottery.
"Do I get anything for the dagger?"
"No."
"Figures."
They searched me for other weapons, confiscated my plastic bag, and moved on.
I almost went home but froze, paranoia creeping in. Every dark corner looked like a trap. My breathing quickened.
A female officer put a hand on my shoulder. "Sir, please wait. We'll transport victims soon."
The carriage was bigger inside than out. I sat surrounded by exhausted, blood-splattered people, some with vacant eyes.
An old man grabbed my shirt, eyes watery. "You hid under a body too, didn't you?"
Creeped out, I tried to push him off.
"Okay, okay, I did," I admitted.
He chuckled, "Better than dying."
They eyed us, I looked away.
When we reached my stop, I dashed inside, checking every shadow like a man possessed. I slammed the door harder than intended.
The stairs were a mountain after that day, but I made it up.
It was 2 a.m.
No way I was going to work tomorrow.
James and Sharon stumbled in drunk, screaming when they saw me.
"It's not my blood!" I assured them.
James stared. "Whose is it?"
"Monsters. Passage break. You'll hear it on the news."
Sharon checked me for injuries. "Are you okay?"
"Fine."
I pushed them back a bit when Sharon grabbed my arm too hard.
"I'll talk tomorrow. I need privacy."
I struggled with the contact tablet, finally sending a curt message to my boss, tossing in a few coins to pay for it.
Legs aching, I got to my apartment.
The stale air reminded me I'd forgotten to take out the trash.
I tossed my bloody uniform behind the trash can and collapsed on my filthy sheets.
Sleep was impossible. Bruises ached, but otherwise I was fine. Might as well stay up.
I grabbed a dusty book from my chest—Magic Before Ether. It detailed the lost tech of the old world: cars, computers, airplanes.
Ether was powerful, but humanity's old dreams fascinated me more—Dyson spheres, space travel, AI.
Both times had their struggles, but at least back then monsters were fairy tales.
A sudden slam startled me. Heart racing again, I shut the book and opened the window.
The night buzzed with distant music and flickering lights from floating buildings. Nausea hit, and I puked a few drops onto the street below.
I closed the window and shades.
Wrapped in my sheets, I felt the panic crawl back.
I checked every corner of my small apartment, laughing nervously at myself for being scared of monsters under the bed.
I even moved the chest to block the door and double-locked the window.
After a brief scare from shifting clothes behind the trash can, I finally returned to bed.
My heartbeat thundered. Eventually, exhaustion won.
I woke with a searing pain fizzing through my limbs, then a bright green flash—and it stopped.
Heart pounding, I scanned my dark room.
There, on my sheets, was a green ball with a face, grinning wide.
It stared at me and said, "What are you looking at, you fucking bitch!?"