The end of the world didn't announce itself with trumpets.
It slipped in quietly, like a splinter under skin.
Daniel Hayes finished his night shift at the pharmacy at 5:42 a.m. sharp. His manager had muttered something about overtime paperwork, but Daniel barely heard it he just wanted out. His hoodie smelled of antiseptic and sweat. His feet ached. Rent was due in two days.
Nothing felt apocalyptic about it. Just another tired walk home.
The city was still half-asleep. A bus rumbled past, headlights glaring. Neon signs flickered over empty sidewalks. Somewhere, a siren wailed. Life went on.
Until the sky cracked.
At first, Daniel thought it was lightning. A jagged seam split the clouds, stretching wide above the skyline. But no thunder followed. No rain. Just… light. A pale, bruised light that bent wrong in the eye, as if the colors refused to behave.
The bus coughed once, then died in the middle of the intersection. Streetlamps buzzed and went out. The air thickened, clinging to Daniel's lungs. He staggered, bracing against a lamppost.
Then came the pain.
It stabbed through his chest, sharp and merciless. He yanked his hoodie aside. Something burned beneath his skin—a twisting scar, glowing faintly like iron fresh from the forge.
"What the–"
His words cut off as the world fell silent. Not quiet silent. Engines stopped, voices strangled, even the wind froze. Daniel's ears rang with nothing but his heartbeat.
Then the ground gave way.
Sidewalk, storefronts, cars everything rippled like glass struck by a hammer. The city blurred into streaks of grey. Daniel dropped hard onto stone, his palms scraping raw.
When his vision cleared, the world was gone.
Or maybe not gone changed.
The buildings were still there, but wrong. They leaned like broken teeth, windows gaping like sockets. The streets split into slabs of jagged rock. Fog rolled between the ruins, thick and sour with the stench of rust.
Daniel staggered upright, clutching his chest. The burning mark still pulsed. A second heartbeat.
Something moved in the mist.
At first, he hoped it was another person. Someone to tell him he wasn't insane. But the thing that stepped out of the fog was no man.
Too tall. Too thin. Limbs bent just a little too far. Its head tilted at an angle that made Daniel's stomach lurch.
It stopped when it saw him.
The silence pressed heavier.
Then it charged.
Daniel didn't think he ran. His sneakers slapped cracked pavement, lungs tearing with each breath. The thing followed, limbs jerking, scraping claws against stone as it closed the gap.
His chest burned hotter, every pulse of the mark drowning out his thoughts. He glanced back once big mistake. The thing was faster. Too fast.
He tripped. Crashed to his knees. The creature lunged.
And the world… shifted.
For a fraction of a second, Daniel saw two versions of the moment overlap: his own panicked sight, and something else. He saw the angle of its leap, the stretch of its arm, the crack in the pavement it would land on. His body moved before his mind caught up rolling sideways, just out of reach.
The creature hit stone. Claws screeched. It whirled with an animal shriek.
Daniel staggered up, chest blazing. His vision warped. The thing convulsed skin splitting, bones snapping inward until it collapsed in a heap.
He hadn't touched it.
"What the hell…" His voice shook.
Then he saw it.
Something shimmered above the corpse. Smoke, but not smoke. It drifted toward him, ignoring his desperate attempt to swat it away. It sank into his chest.
Daniel screamed. Images crashed into him memories that weren't his. The rhythm of that broken gait. The scrape of claws on stone. The hunger. Always hunger.
When it ended, he dropped gasping to his knees. Sweat poured down his face. His hands trembled.
But worse than the pain was the knowing. His body remembered things it shouldn't. His muscles ached with instincts not his own.
Daniel's laugh was hoarse, ragged.
"Great. Kill a freak, end up half one myself. Love this game already."
The silence didn't answer.
But the fog did.
Scraping. Shuffling. More shapes moving within it. Dozens. Maybe more.
Daniel lurched to his feet, heart hammering. His chest still burned, the mark pulsing like a warning.
He glanced at the nearest alley. Too narrow. The thing he'd just fought had been fast too fast for him. If those shapes swarmed him, he'd die here.
He swallowed hard, brain racing. Fight? Stupid. Hide? Maybe. Run? Only if he picked the right path.
He remembered the map of the street. Pharmacy one block south. Narrow stairwell behind it. If it still existed here…
He forced his shaking legs forward. Every step felt like betrayal. But he didn't look back. Looking back slowed you down.
He could already hear them. Claws scraping stone. Limbs dragging. Coming closer.
Daniel gritted his teeth. His chest seared with every breath, but his mind sharpened. Survival wasn't about being the strongest. It was about being the last one left standing.
He would cheat, hide, crawl if he had to. Whatever this place was, whatever these things were he wasn't going to die on the first day.
Not here. Not like this.
He ran.