Chapter 8: The Point of No Return. Part 3

The young Audrey Kissandra froze as she heard the rocky impact of the head on the ground and saw it roll a few feet, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Its eyes, dead as a fish's gaze, pointed directly at her.

They say a sudden decapitation allows a few seconds of consciousness before the brain stops functioning completely. The master Cassian only managed to see her; the last glance he would give would be toward this girl, not his wife, not his daughters. His vacant gaze remained on her.

Audrey took a step back and looked up shakily, trying not to meet that gaze again. In front of her, night could be seen on the outskirts of the reservoir. The mist now traveled swiftly from right to left. The gray stream, in gusts that occasionally revealed holes in it, was filled with lights that hadn't existed before. Audrey could make out those lights, paired and fixed, dozens of them. The night no longer sank into complete darkness; it was alive.

There was life out there!

As these seconds ticked by, Garwin was barely able to take his head off the wheel of the truck. Looking through the rearview mirror, he wondered why his partner had suddenly stopped talking, and when he shared her line of vision, he realized the reason.

Garwin: RUN!

His shout echoed throughout every corner of the warehouse; no one could miss it.

A splashing sound coming from the metal sheets on the roofs grew louder with time. Time had slowed down, but not for this sound.

Yes, everyone heard it without exception.

Audrey turned toward the call behind her; however, her peripheral vision had caught something at the end of the exit, for a mere instant, entering the warehouse.

Unknown girl: AAGH! AAAAH! AAAAH!

They'd caught someone else, this time one of the little girls carrying supplies in her arms on the way to the truck. The metal cans fell.

It was dragging her along the ground, one leg held in place by strands of muscle.

Audrey reached behind her own back. She wasn't carrying her bow at the moment, but her quiver was loaded with a few arrows.

Unknown girl: GYAAAA! AH!

Grabbing one of the arrows, she hurled it forward in a single motion like a makeshift throwing dagger, spinning until it plunged into the creature's temple with excellent accuracy despite the circumstances.

Hadn't she used enough force? She acknowledged that this clearly wouldn't compare to using a bow. Still, the arrow had penetrated. So why didn't it react like any other living being would?

That thing lifted the girl, ignoring her shrill screams as much as the arrow embedded in its head, as it stared at Audrey.

At that moment, she caught a glimpse of it.

Thin, skeletal, long, abnormally inverted arms held its prey tightly.

Its torso was swollen like a bag of water, emitting liquid sounds whenever it moved.

Atop a body covered in dark hair, a huge bald head rested. Two lights, two eyes in it.

Behind it, leaving the mist, another appeared, its jaws chewing on the same girl's second leg, stretching it to the opposite side. Its mouth no longer emitted cries; it babbled incoherently. And so...

Another appeared.

One more.

And another.

Wobbly flashlights tore through the darkness with erratic beams of light, trying to track the shadows moving faster than the eyes could see. The splashing noise of their movements came from multiple directions, bouncing between rusted shelves and piles of scattered crates, making it impossible to pinpoint where they would come from next.

They were swift, moving on all fours. Inhumanly swift.

Screams of despair and terror broke the deathly silence that, moments before, had enveloped the warehouse. The tension had collapsed into a burst of chaos.

Unknown: H-H-Help!

One of the group members tried to back away, his breath ragged with panic, but his foot caught on a crate and he lost his balance, falling heavily onto his back with a stifled gasp. His eyes widened, barely reflecting the dark silhouette that, from the shadows, lunged at him.

Garwin: M-MOVE! —the boy exclaimed as he waved his hand, signaling them to get into the truck.

They didn't know what they were up against, and as the message had indicated, they weren't supposed to face them. Of course, they witnessed firsthand the reason why.

Caught by surprise in the darkness of the night, it was clear they had no choice but to escape.

Boots thumped clumsily on the ground as people rushed toward the exit, knocking over crates in their frantic rush. Planks rolled across the floor, tripping more than one person and hindering their escape. The echoing noises multiplied, reverberating off the metal walls, drowning out the gasps and screams.

Garwin: Tsk!

From the vehicle, he could only occasionally see people running back and forth. Visibility was practically zero, except perhaps for the illumination of flashlights erratically pointed in random directions.

In the driver's seat of the truck, Garwin tried to fix that by turning on the headlights.

Unknown: AAAAAAH!

Unknown: W-WHAT IS THAT?! AGH...!

Garwin: GET IN THE TRUCK! HAH! G-GET IN THE TRUCK!

He screamed at the top of his lungs. He hoped everyone had heard him, or at least someone.

He couldn't have been more disoriented until he heard a bang coming from the rear, so loud it shook the car.

Garwin: !

He whipped his head around.

Among the previously loaded crates, a high-capacity tanker stood out in the middle. Behind it, people were separating, exhaling heavily. And among them, Izzy.

Garwin: WHAT ARE YOU DOING, IZZY?! EVERYONE GET IN NOW!

Izzy: Gah... Gah...

So they did, but clearly not everyone. Most of the group was lost in the pandemonium. Therefore, he hit the gas.

Yes, he could have easily escaped the scene; the exit was right ahead, but instead, he was circling the warehouse in an attempt to find the remaining members.

The vehicle violently slammed the crates and containers aside.

Doger: Woah woah!

They could see the boy jump to the side, almost a victim of being run over.

Doger: Fuck!

He cursed, not at the driver, but at the situation. Doger climbed into the truck as quickly as he could. Shaun and Gitta followed suit, Gitta needing help due to the heavy armor he'd equipped.

Shaun: Gh! G-Get us out of here!

Gitta: The others—!

They had managed to get a few more members on board, but there weren't more than half of their original number.

Audrey (Kiss): JURIK!

They heard a voice. It was Audrey, accompanied by the few children, men, and women she could find. She refused to end her search.

Audrey (Kiss): JURIK! S-SOMEONE!

The screech of tires on concrete stopped ahead.

She didn't hesitate to help them get in, but there were still too many missing.

Jurik: Ah... A-AH!

There was Jurik, near the exit. Jurik had tried to escape on his own and now was retreating, seeing the crowd forming in the fog.

There were too many of them. If they stayed any longer, they wouldn't get out alive, none of them.

Audrey had seen him, was about to say his name, was preparing her bow, tense, ready to shoot, when...

Izzy: Kiss!

She heard her, and that stopped her. In the back of the truck, her partner looked at her.

She shook her head.

She knew what it meant.

Audrey (Kiss): N-No...

Her hand trembled at that moment. Sweat made her release the string, and without realizing it, the arrow was fired.

Crossing to Jurik's side, it grazed his cheek, slicing through his blond hair, the arrow traveling and disappearing into the darkness.

Audrey (Kiss): Ah, no!

Jurik turned around, watching his friend draw her bow.

Recognizing what she'd done, Audrey was about to... No. She didn't have the chance. They wouldn't let her.

Audrey (Kiss): Gh!

Her arm had been yanked. Doger, Shaun, Gitta, and even Izzy were pulling at it. They pulled her into the truck, and the space she left behind was taken by one of them, a Dreamer who had tried to sneak up on her without making its presence known.

The vehicle tried to start immediately, but it was faster. It jumped onto the truck, where the few survivors were hiding, where Gitta lay.

Gitta: Ah!

It had caught his forearm, though, and fortunately for him, he was wearing the thick, steel-plated armor, the replica. Even so, it was pulling him hard enough to bring him to his knees. If it continued any further, it would drag him out of the truck with it.

He drew back his second arm to throw a punch. In his desperation, he thought of nothing more than using the hand that wore the hard gauntlet.

However, between the thin slits of his metal helmet, Gitta saw that more closely.

Flesh still oozed from its teeth. There were scraps of fabric, perhaps a child's dress in color and size, clinging to the swollen veins throbbing on its face.

Its mouth was open wide, but no sound came from it, as if it were choking on something it couldn't expel.

The flesh around its cheeks had been consumed. Its exposed eyes, with reddened sclerae and black irises resulting from fully dilated pupils, oozed fluid from their corners. A tapetum lucidum effect permeated them from the brilliance they had glimpsed earlier.

An eclipse over the sea.

Gitta: ...!

It wasn't anger that such a sight represented.

Doger: Fuck!

In the blink of an eye, his helmet was covered in spatters of shared blood. He no longer felt the same pressure pulling at his forearm.

When Gitta opened his eyes again, a sharp object was detaching itself from the creature's head. A hand, Doger's, was pulling the bloody dagger free.

The Dreamer was frantically shaking, holding its head in its bony hands.

It still made no sound, save for the thud it made as it fell from the truck.

Doger: G-God...!

He and his companion caught their breath as they watched it flutter and hide back into the darkness from which it had emerged.

Izzy: GAR!

Garwin: I KNOW! —He clenched his jaw, his racing pulse pumping adrenaline through his veins.

The engine roared once more. The driver slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the tires squealed on the wet concrete.

It wasn't everyone. Of course it wasn't everyone.

The driver's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

The truck swerved sharply to the side, everyone feeling the vehicle tilt dangerously before stabilizing. The passengers held on to whatever they could reach.

The figures in the fog followed their trail, then, the trail of those left behind in the dark warehouse.

Despite the distance, the helpless voices crying for help could still be heard; heartbreaking pleas that would merge with the wind's echo in the gray sky.

-[Ø]-

Sein: Ah…

Such silence.

Such calm and stillness.

A yawn escaped his lips, dissipating into the stale air of the room.

There were no voices in the hallways, or the creaking of wood under other people's footsteps, nor the howling of the wind against the windows. Only the dull pulse of his own heart, beating in his chest.

In his hands, the digital radio lay inert. His fingers ran lazily over the plastic surface, feeling the cracks and the accumulation of dust in the speaker slots. He shook it lightly, perhaps hoping for a sound, a click, some evidence that it still showed signs of functioning inside. But it didn't.

Sein: (The battery's dead... I'm sure that message was a pre-recorded joke or something)—he thought, staring at the tiny black screen that reflected nothing but his own bewilderment.

It couldn't function anymore after it had broadcast one last message before shutting down forever.

What had he really heard? An old ad? A cipher? It was supposed to be an emergency announcement, right?

Without its sole purpose limited to entertaining him during the wait, the boy straightened his back with a slight groan, his body resentful of having been sitting on the wooden floor for so long. He brushed the dust off his beach shirt with distracted pats, unable to completely remove the small gray specks that seemed stubbornly clinging to the fabric.

He found himself inside one of The Mansion's abandoned offices, a disastrous one: overturned wastebaskets, scattered books, open and disordered filing cabinets as if someone had rummaged through them looking for something important… and had never bothered to clean up the mess left behind. Surely the boys had been there before. Nothing he saw suggested recent order, only traces of haste and carelessness.

How many hours had passed?

He ran a hand through his bangs, brushing them aside mechanically as his eyes wandered around the room until they settled on the only window.

It wasn't possible to see the sunlight. He moved closer.

It wasn't possible to see the paths. The fog was too dense for that, even for the small monocular he was fervently testing.

Nevertheless, there was something he could perceive. It turned out to be a faint sound, repeated with a certain rhythm.

This time it wasn't the metallic screech of the wind passing through corroded structures, nor the creaking of rotten wood yielding to the damp. It was music, real and tangible. A tune in the distance.

Sein: (Does the guitarist also play the flute?) —He asked himself, thinking that the musician they had brought with them days ago was the cause—. Aren't we supposed to stay quiet?

It was strange. The melody wasn't coming from inside the shelter, but from outside.

The sound of a flute. Its notes floated softly, so faint that for a moment he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

He began to feel uneasy.

Before he opened the window to look out, another noise caught his attention: a door closing and some voices coming from the next room, muffled but distinguishable if he put his ear close enough to the thin walls.

He placed the radio on a table and pressed himself against the wall, listening closely. They spoke in a low tone, with a cadence on their voice, somewhat halting, somewhat nervous, but distinguishable.

Gustav: Well, Carlota, what did you want to tell me?

Carlota: The same thing I already told you and what the rumors say. Ugh, I hate it when you get like this.

Gustav: What are you talking about? We're doing exactly what you wanted.

Carlota: Yes, except leaving as soon as possible.

Gustav: It would be too obvious. If you're patient, we'll be able to take more food before they notice.

Carlota: It won't do any good if we're the food —she exclaimed —. They gave us a deadline. If it runs out, not only will they not help us, they'll also leave us trapped here while those things come.

Gustav: I can't just leave like that, my dear. Several of my colleagues still haven't been found. Not even comrade Enderson is anywhere to be seen, since he was the one who brought us together in the first place.

Carlota: You'll find more comrades in 'Wolf Eight' if you want.

Gustav: You know we've never gotten along with that gang, much less with that Dregan. Leave this to me.

The woman took a second to retort once more.

Carlota: They have influence, medicine, food, water, shelter, everything we need and could ever need. This town is lost, Gustav, understand that —she added —. They started walking. I assure you, I saw it with my very own eyes on my way here, and there are too many of them. At least we'll have a slim chance if you listen to me for once.

Gustav: …

Sein: (T-They're getting closer… The D-Dreamers. I knew it.)

Avoiding making a sound, he slowly backed away, moving away from the wall as cautiously as he had approached.

He hadn't even worried about the fact that a looting was taking place right under his nose. Before reaching the shelter, he himself had seen dozens of figures in the distance, motionless, as if waiting for something.

The man didn't seem to fully believe his companion's statement, but Sein didn't doubt it at all. A shiver ran up his spine upon hearing the statement.

The melancholic melody would make its way to become more present. This time there would be no corner to hide in.

To be continued…