Episode 2
The voices hit him before anything else.
Too loud. Too scattered. Everyone talking over each other, panic bleeding into every word.
"…my phone's not working—why is it dead?!"
"…someone help him!"
"…what is this place?!"
He slowed slightly, not stopping, just listening. The pattern was already clear—confusion, noise, no structure. No one was thinking ahead.
"We should check," she said, already moving toward the voices.
Of course.
He followed without arguing. People gathered where things went wrong. And right now, that was exactly where they were heading.
There were six of them. Students, just like them. One sat on the ground, clutching his leg, breathing unevenly. The others crowded too close around him, arguing, guessing, panicking.
No one was watching their surroundings.
"Hey!" she called out.
They turned immediately, relief washing over their faces.
"Thank God—more people—"
"Do you know what's going on?!"
She shook her head. "We just got here too, but we should—"
A sound cut through everything.
Low. Wet. Dragging.
He turned his head toward it before anyone else reacted.
There.
"…did you hear that?" someone whispered.
Too late.
It stepped into view.
Low to the ground, its limbs bent at unnatural angles, moving in a way that didn't match its body. Wrong. Completely wrong.
Someone screamed.
The creature reacted instantly.
It lunged.
Everything fell apart.
People scattered in different directions. One of them tripped and hit the ground hard.
The creature changed direction mid-lunge—
straight for him.
He moved.
Not away.
Forward.
He grabbed the fallen student by the collar and yanked him sideways just as the creature's claws tore into the ground where his head had been. Dirt exploded upward.
"Move!" he shouted.
No one moved properly.
The creature twisted again, faster now.
Adapting.
It lunged again.
He didn't step back.
He stepped in.
And grabbed it.
The impact slammed into him, knocking the air out of his chest as they crashed to the ground. Its weight crushed down on him, limbs thrashing violently.
Pain shot through his back.
Its claw scraped across his hand—
cutting deep.
Blood spread instantly.
Up close, it was worse. The smell, the heat, the way it moved too fast for something that size.
"Hold it!" he shouted.
No one moved.
"Hold it!" he yelled again, louder.
That snapped them.
The big guy rushed in, slamming his full weight into the creature's side. The force shifted it just enough.
The creature screeched and twisted violently.
Its claw slipped—
and tore across his arm.
He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip instead of pulling away.
"…yeah…" he muttered under his breath.
"This works."
"ARE YOU INSANE?!" someone shouted.
He ignored it.
He shifted his weight, forcing one of its limbs under his knee, pinning it down awkwardly.
"Hit it!" he barked.
They hesitated.
"Hit it!" he shouted again.
This time, they moved.
The big guy slammed down hard. Someone else struck it with a rock. Another kicked it blindly, nearly losing balance.
Messy. Uncoordinated.
But pressure.
The creature lashed out wildly—
one student froze too close—
"Move!" he shouted sharply.
The girl reacted first, yanking the student back just as the creature's claws sliced through the air where he had been.
Too close.
The creature thrashed harder, its strength spiking unpredictably.
Its claw came down again—
this time across his shoulder.
It tore through fabric and skin.
Blood spread quickly.
His grip slipped for half a second.
The creature surged.
Almost free.
"Again!" he shouted.
No panic. Just force.
The big guy didn't hesitate. He slammed down harder than before.
A crack echoed.
Something broke.
The creature jerked violently—
then slowed.
Still moving.
But weaker.
"Don't stop!" he shouted.
They didn't.
Hit after hit landed—sloppy, uneven, desperate.
Until finally—
it stopped moving.
Not clean.
Not dramatic.
Just… still.
For a few seconds, no one spoke. Everyone was breathing too hard.
"…is it dead?" someone asked quietly.
He didn't answer immediately. He watched it, waiting for movement.
"…yeah."
Relief spread through them.
Too fast.
He pushed himself up slowly, his arm stinging, his shoulder burning with every movement.
Then he walked back to the body.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"It didn't disappear."
"…so?"
"So it stays."
He crouched, ignoring the pain, and grabbed one of its limbs. He pulled. It resisted.
Good.
He twisted hard.
The joint snapped.
"…that's messed up," someone muttered.
"Probably."
He examined the claw. Sharp. Dense. Useful.
He looked up. "You—bag."
The student blinked. "…what?"
"The bag."
"…why?"
"We're not leaving things behind."
Reluctantly, the bag was handed over. He opened it—books, snacks, water.
He took out a textbook and dropped it.
"Hey—!"
"Unnecessary."
"That's mine!"
"It still is."
He tore fabric from his sleeve, wrapped the claw, then tested the grip.
"…usable."
He placed it inside.
Then went back to the body.
"…you're still doing that?" someone asked.
"Yes."
"Why?!"
He didn't answer immediately. He cut into it roughly, pulling things apart, ignoring the discomfort around him.
Then he paused.
Something solid.
He reached in and pulled it out.
A small, dark crystal.
It didn't shine, but it felt… heavy.
Wrong.
"…what is that?" she asked.
He looked at it.
"…don't know."
A pause.
"…so we keep it."
"…that's your logic?"
"Works so far."
She stared at him. "…you're smiling."
"…am I?"
"…yes."
He looked back at the crystal.
"…interesting."
"…you're insane," someone muttered.
"Not yet," he replied calmly. "Give it time."
No one laughed.
He wrapped the crystal and placed it in the bag, then stood.
"…we should leave," someone said quickly.
"Yes. Now."
He shook his head.
"Not yet."
"…what do you mean not yet?!"
He looked at them—not as a group, but individually.
"You hesitate," he said, pointing. "Stay behind."
Another. "You react fast. Stay near me."
Another. "You panic."
"I don't—"
"You do."
Silence.
"…and me?" someone asked quietly.
"If you can't help," he said, "don't interfere."
That landed.
No one argued.
He adjusted the bag over his shoulder. Heavier now.
Better.
"We move," he said.
This time, they followed immediately.
As they walked, someone muttered, "…we made it."
He didn't respond at first.
Then he said, "That one was slow."
A pause.
"If something faster shows up…"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to.
No one felt relieved anymore.
But they kept moving.
Because now they understood—
surviving once didn't mean they would survive again.