The wail tore through the evening air, a raw, primal scream that clawed at the clear sky. "Help! Somebody, HELP! My daughter!"
A black shadow, eyes burning crimson, danced with horrifying grace around the giggling infant. The child, oblivious, reached out, captivated by the macabre ballet. Her mother, frozen by a terror that had rooted her to the spot, could only watch, her legs refusing to obey, to close the chasm between her and her child.
My daughter, don't worry, you'll be okay…
The thought, a desperate plea, echoed in her mind. Her gaze, frantic and wild, scoured the desolate road, the empty fields. There was no one. She was alone. This isolated stretch of asphalt, meant to lead her to her parents, had become a desolate stage for a nightmare.
It had begun subtly, insidiously. Stepping out to refuel her car, a flicker, a ripple in the light, and then, a shadow had bled into existence within the vehicle. Not just any shadow, but a suffocating void, a palpable malevolence that reeked of the grave. It was a ghost, born of pure night, come to claim a soul.
"Oh God… Is there someone else? Please! Help! My daughter is in trouble!" Her voice, already hoarse, was a ragged whisper against the growing darkness. Hope, a fragile ember, flickered, threatened to extinguish. The shadow, a ravenous entity, seemed to feed on her fear, on her dwindling light, pulling her and her daughter into its abyssal embrace.
Desperation, a cold, hard knot in her stomach, clawed its way to the surface. Her child's life, a fragile thread, was unraveling. Her gaze, drawn by an unseen force, snapped back to the car. The outside world was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, but within the car's open doors, only an inky blackness pulsed, punctuated by the baleful glare of those crimson eyes.
She stared, transfixed, for an eternity that lasted mere seconds. Then, her eyes widened in a silent scream. From the heart of that consuming darkness, a hand, sculpted from pure shadow, began to coil around her baby girl. A primal, guttural cry tore from her throat. Motherly instinct, raw and unyielding, surged through her terror-stricken body.
"DON'T TOUCH HER!" The shout ripped through the air, vibrating with a desperate fury. The shadow in the car seemed to turn its head, its crimson eyes fixing on her. Then, slowly, sickeningly, a face began to materialize from the inky depths. It was a grotesque mask of darkness, a rictus grin spreading across its features, a smile so unnervingly depraved it sent a shiver of icy dread coursing down her spine, making her back muscles clench in a cold sweat of abject terror.
The road lay unnaturally silent, not a single bird daring to break the suffocating stillness. The vast fields surrounding them seemed to breathe a fearful sigh, mirroring her dread. Her car, its doors agape like a maw, held the lingering shadow, its crimson gaze boring into her soul. The sheer, overwhelming horror of the unknown presence in her car was too much. A hot, shameful warmth spread down her legs.
The creepy smile on the shadow's face widened, mocking her. She could no longer hold back the torrent. Tears, hot and heavy, streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the shame of her soiled pants.
"Aghhh… Sob… sob… my daughter…" The words were torn from her throat, the last vestiges of her strength ebbing away. Her legs buckled beneath her. She crashed to the ground, a puppet whose strings had been cut, her soul seemingly ripped from her body.
In the sterile confines of a typical apartment in Rehab city, a young girl with sky-blue hair and delicate features stared, transfixed, at the television screen. The news report replayed the horrifying events from two nights prior, a chilling echo of the woman's last moments.
"Oh my, that's cruel! How can someone do that?" The words, a soft whisper, barely escaped her lips. The news anchors detailed the brutal murder of the woman, the abduction of her child. The investigation was stalled, the grim reality of the scene baffling even seasoned forensic teams. The woman's body bore scratches, deep and ragged, consistent with a bear attack, yet not enough to definitively point to animal or human.
"Sillia… how many times have I told you not to watch such things? It'll mess with your head. Go get ready, we need to go to school." Sky's voice, laced with exhaustion, cut through the morbid silence as he emerged from the kitchen.
"Shut up, Sky," Sillia retorted, her annoyance a palpable wave as she rolled her eyes.
"What did you say…?" Sky's voice dropped, a chilling undercurrent of coldness. He fixed her with a gaze, his brows raised in warning. Sillia, momentarily caught off guard by her older brother's unexpected chill, fought a smile. She knew this game.
"What I say… it was you who were listening to this. I just came here, Sky." Her tone was unapologetic, a challenge in her eyes.
"Uhh… Okay, forget about it. You're adult enough to understand the world's cruelty, but watch your mouth, Young lady." Sky's distraction was evident. He knew Sillia deliberately used his name to provoke him, a playful rebellion he usually indulged. But today, his mind was elsewhere, the news echoing in his ears. His stare lingered a fraction too long, causing Sillia to avert her gaze to the floor.
"Okay, stop staring at me. I won't call you that." Her voice was softer now, a hint of vulnerability in her sideways glances. Sky, snapped back to reality, tore his gaze from her and, with a decisive click, shut off the television.
"Hey, I said sorry…" Sillia's voice trailed off, unanswered. Sky was miles away.
"Hmm… that's good. Now go change your clothes and get ready for school. We can leave after eating." Sky turned, heading towards the stairs, his back a wall of indifference.
"No, first call me 'young lady, please change your clothes'." Sillia pressed, her desire for a reaction, any reaction, growing. But Sky continued to ignore her, disappearing into his room for a bath and to change. He usually played along, but today, her usual antics held no sway. He was too consumed by something else.
"Sky… idiot…" she muttered, her voice laced with frustration as he vanished without a backward glance. With no response, she huffed, "Agrrr… Sky, you are annoying…" Her whispered words were swallowed by the silence as she stomped off to her own room.