The sirens began as a distant wail, thin and uncertain, like a warning still deciding whether it mattered.
Kael paused mid-step in the stairwell.
They grew louder. Not one, not two—but many, overlapping, folding into each other until the sound pressed against the walls, against his ribs. Outside, voices rose. Doors opened. Someone shouted from a balcony.
Kael climbed the remaining steps two at a time and pushed open the rooftop door.
What he saw made his breath stall.
At first, his mind refused to give it a shape.
It was not a man.
Not an animal.
Not anything Kael had ever seen in footage, warnings, or half-believed rumors.
The thing moved like a spill given will.
A mass of flesh dragged itself across the street below, heavy and slow, yet impossibly alive. Its body had no clear beginning or end—just layers of dark, wet matter folding over itself, spreading outward, then collapsing back in, as if it could not decide what shape it wanted to be. It touched the ground everywhere at once, flattened by its own weight, as though gravity had claimed it completely.
The surface of its body looked wrong.
Its flesh was uneven and raw-looking, textured like burned skin left too close to fire—charred in places, slick and glossy in others. Veins or something like them pulsed faintly beneath the surface, giving off a sick, rhythmic movement, as if the entire mass was breathing without lungs.
No eyes.
No face.
Just a grotesque bulk of flesh and blood, slowly shifting, pulsing, reshaping itself. Two small, incomplete projections pushed out from its body—too short, too malformed to be arms, too deliberate to be random. They dragged uselessly behind it, leaving streaks on the asphalt. Whether they had once been limbs, or were merely accidents of its movement, Kael couldn't tell.
Along its surface, a narrow opening formed, then sealed again. It wasn't a mouth. Not really. There were no teeth, no jaw. Just a slit that appeared and vanished, always re-forming in a different place—enough to suggest direction.
Position.
Intent.
Kael swallowed.
*So… this is a Dami.*
He had always imagined something else.
A ghost. A shadow. Something unnatural but distant. Unreal.
This was wrong.This was too physical.
Below, panic had already taken over. Civilians ran. Some fell. Vehicles skidded to stops, doors flying open as officers raised their firearms.
A crack of gunfire split the air.
Then another.
Bullets struck the thing and vanished into it, swallowed without resistance. The flesh rippled where the shots landed, briefly parting—then sealing again, smooth and whole, as if nothing had happened.
"Shoot it again!" someone screamed.
More shots followed. Faster. Desperate.
Nothing changed.
Kael's fingers curled into fists.
*It's resisting it. No—ignoring it.*
A sudden movement caught his eye. The Dami surged forward, faster than its shape suggested, its mass slamming into an building. Concretel crumpled. The block of concrete was dragged a few feet before being dropped like discarded sabd.
Screams erupted.
Kael backed away from the ledge, heart hammering.
Fire.
That was it.
Fire hurt things. Fire always did.
He ran.
Down the stairs, into the apartment, through the narrow corridor that smelled faintly of coffee and old books. His mother called his name from the kitchen, fear already tightening her voice, but Kael didn't stop.
He grabbed a small box from the shelf near the door—old firecrackers, leftover from New Year's. He hadn't even been sure why he kept them.
Now he did.
Kael's fingers closed around the firecrackers almost without thinking.
Gunfire rang out across the street. A few brave—or desperate—people had taken cover behind vehicles, firing wildly at the thing below. The shots landed. He could see that much. Small impacts rippled across the Dami's surface, dents forming briefly—
—and then smoothing out.
The flesh flowed back into itself, seamless, effortless. The Dami did not slow. It did not turn. It simply continued moving, dragging its mass forward like a living spill.
Kael swallowed hard.
He lit the fuse and threw.
The firecracker burst against the Dami's body with a sharp crack. The impact tore into the surface, leaving a dark, uneven mark. The mass shuddered, its movement stalling for a fraction of a second.
The wound began to close.
But not the way the bullet marks had.
The burned area resisted, edges trembling, the flesh pulling itself back together unevenly, as if struggling against something it didn't understand.
Kael's breath caught.
"Fire works" he muttered.
He threw another. And another.
Each explosion carved shallow scars that lingered longer than they should have. The Dami's movement grew erratic, its surface rippling in agitation rather than calm repair.
Then something changed.
A narrow opening formed along the Dami's surface, stretching wider than before. It wasn't a mouth—not really—but it opened and tightened as if searching for shape.
From it came a sound.
High. Thin. Piercing.
The shrill cry cut through the street, slicing past the sirens and shouts, setting Kael's nerves on edge. People clutched their ears. Some stumbled back, panic breaking whatever resolve they had left.
Edward's voice cut through the chaos.
"Kael!"
Edward burst out of the building entrance, clutching a bag slung over his shoulder. He didn't hesitate—New Year stash," Edward yelled between throws. "Thought I'd never need 'em!"
Firecrackers. Bigger ones.
Kael barely registered the sting in his fingers as he lit and threw them one after another. Edward matched him, tossing from the side, their movements frantic but desperate rather than coordinated.
The street filled with sharp cracks and smoke.
The Dami recoiled.
Its mass pulled inward, sliding backward across the asphalt as if the ground itself no longer wanted to hold it. The flesh rippled unevenly, its form losing balance for the first time.
His mother now stood near the building entrance, eyes wide, clutching the railing as people surged past her.
"Kael!" she shouted. "come back. Don't go any closer!"
The dami slammed into an abandoned car.
Metal screeched.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the Dami spread.
Its body flowed over the vehicle, swallowing it from sight—not violently, not forcefully, but with a slow inevitability, as if the car had simply sunk into it. The surface bulged, reshaped, tightened.
Kael felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"No…" Edward whispered.
The Dami convulsed.
With a sudden, violent motion, the car was expelled.
It shot forward like a launched projectile.
Kael turned just in time to see it flying toward his house.
"Mom—!"
She stood near the gate, one hand raised,as if she was calling someone
The car struck the roof.
The impact thundered through the street. Tiles shattered. Dust exploded into the air.
A concrete block broke loose.
Time seemed to slow as it fell.
A familiar scream is heard by Kael...