We didn't stop for ten minutes.
Hunter led me through a maze of ruins, ducking under collapsed arches, leaping over piles of rubble that had once been walls. His breathing was controlled – deep, even, like a runner's. Mine was ragged, desperate, each inhale a battle against the ash that coated my throat.
The world around us was a graveyard.
The ruins stretched in every direction, a city of the dead. Buildings that had once been homes, temples, marketplaces now lay in shattered heaps. Black stone, once polished to a mirror shine, was now cracked and weathered, covered in claw marks and stains I didn't want to identify.
Some structures still stood – skeletons of their former selves. A tower with no roof. A cathedral with no doors. A palace with no walls. The ash had piled up against them, forming dunes that buried the lower floors.
The sky was a constant, oppressive red. The clouds churned slowly, never moving, never changing. There was no sun, no moon, no stars. Just the red. Just the pressure.
The air was thick with the smell of sulfur and decay. Not the decay of bodies – though that was there too – but the decay of something older. Something that had been dead for a long time.
How long has this place been here?
I didn't know. I didn't want to know.
Hunter stopped abruptly, holding up a fist.
"Wait."
I leaned against a broken pillar, gasping. My legs burned. My chest ached. The ash had coated my throat, and every breath was a rasp. My eyes stung from the dust, and tears cut tracks through the grime on my cheeks.
"Thanks," I managed between breaths.
"Don't thank me." He scanned the horizon, his eyes moving constantly, never resting. "You're slow. You'll get me killed if you tag along."
"Then why did you save me?"
He glanced at me. Something flickered across his face – irritation, maybe, or grudging respect.
"Because you didn't scream when that thing lunged. You rolled." He snorted. "Most people freeze."
"I froze at first."
"But you didn't stay frozen."
He had a point.
"My name is Ren," I said.
"Hunter." He didn't offer a handshake. "Don't slow me down."
Before I could respond, a sound cut through the silence.
"Help… please… someone…"
A woman's voice. Weak. Desperate. Trembling.
Hunter's eyes narrowed. "Don't."
"It's a person—"
"It's not." He grabbed my shoulder, his grip hard. "Listen."
I listened.
"Please… I'm hurt… bleeding…"
The voice was coming from behind a collapsed wall. It sounded real. Too real. The pitch, the cadence, the tremor – it was perfect. It was the voice of someone who had given up hope but was still begging.
"Don't leave me… please…"
Hunter pulled out his second blade. The metal gleamed in the red light.
"Creatures that mimic human voices," he said. "They lure you in. Then they eat you."
My blood ran cold.
"Ren… help me…"
I froze.
It said my name.
Not a random name. Not a generic plea. My name.
Hunter's face tightened. "It knows you. That means it's been watching." He stepped in front of me, his body blocking the view of the collapsed wall. "When I say run, you run."
"How do you know so much about these things?"
"Because I've already killed three of them."
The wall exploded.
Stone shattered. Ash erupted. Something massive burst through – pale, emaciated, humanoid but wrong.
Its limbs were too long, its joints bending in directions they shouldn't. The elbows bent backward. The knees hyperextended. Its fingers were like spider legs, long and thin, tipped with claws that scraped against the stone.
Its skin was stretched tight over bones that seemed to shift and move beneath the surface. I could see the outline of its ribs, its spine, its skull. The skin was translucent in some places, revealing dark organs that pulsed with a sickly light.
Its mouth stretched across half its face – a rictus grin filled with needles. The teeth were uneven, jagged, some broken, some missing. Saliva – black and thick – dripped from its lips.
And its eyes… its eyes were human.
Not the eyes of a monster. The eyes of a person. Brown, warm, full of emotion. They looked at me with recognition.
It smiled.
"Ren," it whispered in my voice. "Come here, little brother."
The voice was mine. My pitch, my cadence, my accent. It was like hearing a recording of myself, but wrong – slightly off, like a mirror that showed a reflection that moved a second too late.
Hunter charged.
His blade sank into its shoulder. Black ichor sprayed – thick, viscous, like oil. The creature shrieked, but not in pain. In mockery. Its mouth opened wider, impossibly wide, revealing a throat lined with more teeth.
Its arm whipped around, impossibly fast. The claw caught Hunter in the chest, sending him flying. He hit a pillar – stone cracked – and slumped to the ground. His sword clattered beside him.
"Hunter!"
He didn't move.
The creature turned to me, tilting its head. The movement was jerky, unnatural, like a puppet on strings.
"Yuki misses you," it said in my sister's voice.
Yuki's voice. Her exact voice. The voice that had sung me to sleep when I was young. The voice that had read me stories. The voice that had whispered "I love you" before vanishing from my life forever.
Something snapped inside me.
I screamed.
I lunged.
Hunter's fallen blade was in my hand – I didn't remember picking it up. The sword was heavier than my dagger, unbalanced, but I didn't care.
I drove it into the creature's chest.
Black ichor sprayed my face. It was warm, thick, and it smelled like rotting meat. The creature laughed – a wet, gurgling sound – and swatted me aside.
I flew through the air. My back hit a wall. The impact drove the air from my lungs. I collapsed, gasping, my vision swimming.
The creature loomed over me.
Up close, I could see the details I had missed before. The skin wasn't just pale – it was scarred, covered in symbols carved into the flesh. The symbols glowed faintly red, pulsing with each of its heartbeats. The teeth weren't just needles – they were engraved with tiny runes.
"Thank you," it whispered. "I was so hungry."
Its mouth opened wider. Wider. The jaw unhinged.
A blade erupted from its throat.
Hunter stood behind it, blood dripping from his mouth, his arm wrapped around its neck. He had crawled across the rubble without me noticing. He had climbed onto its back. He had driven his dagger through its throat.
He twisted the blade.
The creature gurgled, slumped, and fell.
The body hit the ground with a wet thud. The black ichor pooled around it, spreading across the ash. The symbols on its skin flickered, dimmed, died.
Hunter pulled out his weapon and spat black blood.
"Move," he croaked. "Before more come."
I didn't argue.
We ran.
---