I don't remember deciding where to run.
That's the part that scares me the most when I think about it later.
There was no plan. No direction. No heroic thought about saving anyone or standing my ground. My legs just moved, as if my body had already decided survival mattered more than dignity, more than courage, more than the idea I had of myself.
The village rushed toward me in broken pieces.
Shouts tore through the air, sharp and panicked, overlapping until none of them made sense anymore. Doors slammed open and shut. Someone screamed a name and never finished saying it. Animals shrieked in ways I'd never heard before, high and desperate, like they understood something we didn't.
Smoke rose ahead, thick and bitter, crawling into my lungs before I even saw the fire. It burned my throat. Made my eyes water. The smell of it mixed with blood and dirt and something else—something wrong, something that didn't belong in any normal day.
Something crashed behind me.
Heavy. Violent.
I didn't look back.
I knew what I'd see.
The horn sounded again.
Closer this time.
Short. Jagged. Desperate.
Then it cut off abruptly.
That was worse than silence.
Silence meant uncertainty. Silence meant maybe, somehow, someone was still alive. That sound—ending like that—meant someone didn't have time to finish breathing.
"Aren!"
I heard my name.
It cut through the chaos like a blade.
My chest tightened, breath catching painfully as I twisted toward the sound. I nearly collided with Jaro, one of the miller's sons. He slammed into me hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs.
He was dark-skinned like me, though lighter around the eyes, his face streaked with sweat and soot in pale, uneven lines. His pupils were blown wide. His hands shook as he grabbed my arm, fingers digging in like he was afraid I'd vanish if he let go.
"They're inside," he gasped.
"What?" I said. My voice sounded strange to my own ears, thin and distant.
"They're already inside the village," he said again, words tumbling over each other. "They came out of nowhere. People are dying. They're—"
"What are they?" I demanded.
He laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because something inside his mind cracked under the weight of not knowing.
"That's the problem," he said, voice breaking. "I don't know."
Something howled.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't sharp.
It was deep.
Close.
Too close.
The sound vibrated in my bones, a low, rolling noise that felt less like a roar and more like the world groaning under a weight it wasn't meant to carry.
Jaro's grip tightened painfully. "Don't stop," he said. "Whatever you do—don't stop—"
He never finished.
Something slammed into him from the side.
Fast.
Heavy.
Violent.
Jaro flew. His body lifted off the ground like it weighed nothing at all. He hit the dirt hard, bounced once, and didn't get up.
I stumbled backward, heart hammering so hard it hurt, like it was trying to break its way out of my chest.
The thing turned toward me.
It stood on four legs—but wrong. Like it had learned the idea of limbs by watching shadows move across walls. Its hide was dark and uneven, stretched tight over muscle that moved too smoothly, too confidently, like it knew exactly what it was capable of.
Its eyes were pale.
Empty.
Like holes punched through something that never should've had eyes in the first place.
It opened its mouth.
There were too many teeth.
I ran.
I don't remember screaming, but my throat burned like I had. I shoved past people, past bodies already cooling in the dirt, past blood soaking into the ground so fast it felt unreal.
Someone grabbed my shirt.
I tore free without looking back.
My house came into view.
The roof was still standing.
That sight hit me harder than anything else so far.
Relief flooded me so suddenly my knees nearly buckled.
They're alive, I thought.
They have to be.
"Mother!" I shouted. "Nemi!"
My voice cracked on my sister's name.
I burst through the doorway.
Chaos.
The table was overturned. One wall had cracked inward like something had slammed into it from outside. Splinters littered the floor. The air smelled sharp and metallic.
My mother stood near the center of the room.
She held a knife.
It looked far too small for what was happening.
Her skin—warm brown, familiar, comforting—was smeared with blood that wasn't hers. Her shoulders were squared, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with a mix of terror and fury that twisted something deep in my chest.
She turned when she saw me.
For half a second, her face softened.
Just a fraction.
Just enough to remind me she was still my mother.
Then her eyes widened.
"Aren—move!"
I didn't understand why until my father collided with something behind me.
He moved faster than I'd ever seen him move.
His blade flashed once.
Twice.
Steel rang against something hard and wet at the same time. He shoved me aside with his shoulder, hard enough that I crashed into the wall, breath exploding out of me.
The creature—smaller than the one outside, but no less wrong—shrieked as the blade cut into it. My father planted his feet like the ground owed him loyalty and drove the weapon in again.
It didn't fall.
It snapped.
The sound was short.
Wet.
My father staggered.
"Father!" I shouted, scrambling toward him.
He turned his head slightly.
Just enough to look at me.
His eyes were clear.
Calm.
Not afraid.
Not angry.
Just… resolved.
"Listen to me," he said.
His voice was steady, even as blood darkened his clothes.
"Take your sister."
The creature lunged again.
My father stepped into it, forcing it back with his body, his blade, his will.
"Run," he said. Then, quieter—but no less firm—"Take care of her."
I froze.
My chest felt like it was collapsing inward.
"Father, I—"
"No," he snapped, finally raising his voice. "Aren. Look at me."
I did.
He met my eyes, and for the first time in my life, I saw fear there—not for himself.
For us.
"For once," he said, breath hitching, "do what I'm telling you."
My mother screamed.
She lunged forward, knife raised, rage and grief twisting her face into something fierce and terrible. She didn't hesitate. She didn't slow.
"We love you," she shouted.
Then the creature turned.
I don't remember everything that happened next.
I remember shouting until my voice broke.
I remember the sound of bone hitting stone.
I remember slipping on something warm and sticky and falling hard.
I remember my mother's scream cutting off too suddenly.
And then—
Nemi crying.
That sound cut through everything.
It snapped me back into my body.
She was near the back of the house, frozen in place, eyes wide and uncomprehending, hands smeared red with blood that wasn't hers. She looked so small. So lost.
"Nemi," I said, my voice breaking completely.
She looked at me.
Really looked.
"Aren?" she whispered.
I crawled to her, pulled her into my arms so tight she gasped. Her body shook violently. She buried her face in my chest, sobbing, fists clutching my shirt like she'd disappear if she let go.
"I've got you," I whispered, even though I wasn't sure how. "I've got you. Don't look. Don't look back."
Something crashed through the doorway behind us.
The house shook.
A shadow fell across the floor.
I didn't think.
I grabbed Nemi, lifted her in one smooth motion, and ran.
Out the back.
Into the narrow path that led away from Ruva and toward the hills.
I didn't look back.
I couldn't.
Behind us, Ruva was dying.
Nemi cried into my shoulder, loud and broken, her small hands clutching me like I was the only solid thing left in the world.
"It's okay," I whispered, over and over. "I'm here. I won't let go. I promise."
We ran until my lungs felt like they were tearing apart.
Until my legs burned so badly they barely felt like mine.
Until Nemi stumbled, her feet tangling, her strength giving out.
I caught her before she fell, scooped her up again. She was light.
Too light.
Something roared behind us.
Branches snapped.
Trees shook.
The forest edge blurred past as we fled uphill, away from the screams, away from the fire. My vision narrowed. I tasted blood.
"Don't sleep," I murmured into Nemi's hair. "Stay with me. Just a little longer."
She whimpered but nodded weakly.
Then the ground gave way beneath my foot.
The world tilted.
We fell.
Hard.
Pain exploded through my side as we rolled down stone and dirt, crashing through brush and rock. I curled around Nemi without thinking, took the worst of it, felt something tear in my shoulder.
Then darkness swallowed us.
—
When I woke up, the place was quiet.
Too quiet.
And that scared me alot . But I had to check on my young sister first.