The empty world

Just fear.

And one unanswered question hanging in the air—

In this new world… Who is more dangerous now?

CHAPTER - 2: THE EMPTY WORLD 

The night was thick and still, broken only by the soft murmur of the Dawki River. Then, a sharp, unsteady laugh echoed from the shadows.

The man’s gun pointed at her. His laughter trembled in the cold air.

From the mountain to the left, a single bullet sliced through the darkness. It arced through the air and struck the man’s gun. The weapon slipped from his grasp with a metallic clatter.

He froze, eyes wide. The others turned instinctively toward the mountain.

Another bullet whistled through the night—this time hitting the man squarely in the left temple. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

“Who is there?!” another man shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.

A bullet tore through the air again, striking him before he could finish. He fell, and silence seemed to press down on the others.

Panic ignited among them. One fired, then another, then a third—four guns spat fire into the night. Their bullets tore through the air, but from the mountain, not a sound responded.

The forest held its breath.

Their ammunition ran out, but still, none dared to approach. “Maybe… he’s gone,” one whispered.

Metal clanged from the mountain. Another bullet struck the nearest man. Another hit the one who had spoken. Then another.

The mountain seemed alive. Bullets rained without warning, ceaseless and invisible. Every shot echoed like a hammer in the night.

One by one, they fell. The air thickened with smoke and the metallic scent of blood. Those who tried to fire again had no courage; silence swallowed their gunshots.

The river flowed quietly beside her, oblivious.

She pressed herself against the cold rock, heart hammering, lungs burning. Her mind couldn’t grasp what had just happened. One moment, the world was alive with threat—gunfire, fear, chaos. The next, every last sound had vanished.

Her body trembled, but she dared not move. She had survived… but at what cost? The mountain kept its secrets, the shadows its vengeance, and she… she was left to wonder what had just been unleashed.

4:00 A.M.

Kashmir, India

The forest was buried under snow. Every tree stood frozen, every breath visible in the pale darkness.

“Where are you going?!”

The voice echoed through the snow-covered woods, bouncing between the trees.

A single gunshot answered.

The bullet tore through the air and struck the man in the head. He collapsed instantly, his body disappearing into the white ground.

“Can’t you see I’m coming straight at you?” the man muttered coldly. “And still you ask.”

His eyes scanned the forest.

To the left, in a slightly open patch, another man sat crouched behind a tree, gripping a gun.

“So… one here as well.”

A shot rang out.

The man dropped without a sound.

He kept moving forward, boots crunching softly against the snow.

“I came here for a mission,” he said under his breath, “and now…”

Movement.

Another figure.

The gun rose.

A shot.

Another body fell.

“Ah… damn,” he exhaled. “What a mess.”

One more silhouette appeared between the trees.

Another bullet. Another life ended.

He paused, eyes narrowing.

“Who would’ve thought,” he murmured, almost amused, “that aliens would control prisoners by hijacking their minds… turning them into weapons.”

Two figures emerged ahead of him, rushing through the snow.

He didn’t hesitate.

Two shots.

Both bodies hit the ground, staining the snow dark.

The forest returned to silence.

Only his footsteps remained—steady, unhurried—moving deeper into the frozen shadows.

Sonora, Mexico

Night was slowly settling in.

The sky burned in shades of orange and deep purple as the sun sank behind the desert horizon. The air was dry, still—uneasy in a way that made silence feel heavy.

Clive sat alone, his phone glowing softly in his hand.

A new article had just appeared on his screen. Uploaded only minutes ago.

Location: India.

He began to read.

Aliens, who refer to themselves as “Beings,” are reportedly controlling prisoners through mind manipulation, using them as tools for their own purposes.

Clive’s expression hardened.

In the Indian city Bhuj, not a single Being has been spotted. Prisoners have been seen, along with a few individuals believed to be allied with the Beings—but even they appear to have vanished.

His thumb paused.

Sources confirm that the Beings are completely avoiding Bhuj. In fact, they have not entered the Rann of Kutch at all.

Clive leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as the desert wind brushed past him.

“No Beings… at all?” he murmured.

He stared at the last line again, his mind racing.

Why?

What was it about that place?

What was hidden there—something powerful enough to keep them away?

As darkness spread across Sonora, one thought refused to leave his mind:

What is it about Bhuj that even the Beings won’t touch?

Shillong, India

Morning had arrived in Shillong.

The streets were quiet, bathed in soft sunlight. The woman walked alone, her steps cautious. Memories of last night—the river, the attack, the chaos—clung to her like shadows.

Footsteps.

Fast.

Her breath caught.

She turned.

Two men were charging toward her, faces hard, eyes locked on her.

Before she could react—

Two gunshots cracked through the air.

The bullets came from a narrow street on the left. Both men dropped instantly, bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds.

Silence followed.

From the side street, a young man appeared. Calm. Unhurried. A gun rested easily in his hand.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She stepped back.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said evenly. “This is only for people like them.”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“My name is Azad.”

“Azad?” she repeated. “Then what are you doing here?”

He walked past her, stepping over the street littered with bodies.

“I came here for some work,” he said quietly. “But now… I don’t think there’s any need for it.”

“What work?” she asked.

“You don’t need to know that,” he replied.

She watched him start walking down the street. Panic rose again.

“You’re leaving?” she called out.

He glanced at her. “Yes.”

“You said I shouldn’t be alone,” she said, voice trembling.

“Yes,” he replied calmly.

“But… you said I should walk with someone,” she protested.

“I said with someone else. Not with me,” he said, eyes forward.

Her gaze darted around the quiet streets. “But… there’s no one else here. Can I come with you?”

He paused. Silence stretched between them.

“No,” he said finally.

She took a shaky breath, fear breaking through. “Please… if I stay alone, they’ll kill me.”

He looked at her then, the sunlight catching the edges of his face. Slowly, he nodded.

“…Alright,” he said. “Come.”

Relief washed over her. She hurried to follow him, stepping carefully over the snow-white morning streets, memories of Dawki still pressing in her chest.

The streets were silent. Completely silent. Not a soul in sight. The morning sun cast long shadows across shuttered shops, empty alleys, and the quiet road ahead.

They walked side by side.

Azad moved with calm, measured steps, his eyes scanning the path casually. The woman beside him—her shoulders tight, eyes darting around—was tense, alert to every shadow, every sound.

After a few steps, Azad’s gaze landed on a small, shuttered shop. He tilted his head slightly.

“By the way… have you eaten since last night?” he asked.

“…Ah… no,” she admitted.

“Then come.”

“Where?” she asked.

“This way,” he said, pointing toward the shop.

She hesitated, brow furrowed. “But… there’s no one inside. Why are we going in?”

“No one’s here,” he said simply, “that’s exactly why we’re going.”

She didn’t get it, but before she could ask again, he stepped inside.

She followed, footsteps quiet on the dusty floor.

Inside, Azad began picking up snacks from the shelves.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, eyes wide.

“Getting some food. What else?” he said, tossing a packet into his bag.

“But… isn’t this stealing?”

“It is,” he said, shrugging lightly. “But if we want to survive, this is what we do. Take what you need.”

She hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face. Slowly, she picked up a packet of snacks, clutching it in her hands.

“One packet fills your stomach,” he said.

“No… but—”

“Take whatever you want. Chances are, the shopkeeper already took what he could,” he said calmly, as if this justified everything.

Her hand shook slightly as she slipped the packet into her bag.

Azad gave her a small nod, then continued gathering food, moving with the same quiet efficiency.

Kashmir, India

The man who had been firing earlier now sat inside a small, abandoned shop, a phone loosely held in his hand.

“Ah…” he muttered, rising slowly.

To his right, an assault rifle rested against the counter. He picked it up, the cold metal solid in his hands.

He stepped outside.

The crisp mountain air hit his face. Both hands gripped the rifle tightly, ready.

Then—

Footsteps.

Behind him.

And in front.

He heard them all, every echo in the quiet snow. But he didn’t flinch. He moved calmly, masking any reaction.

The sound behind him grew louder, frantic.

He turned sharply. Figures were rushing at him from the rear.

He fired.

Bullets erupted from the assault rifle, sharp, relentless, unstoppable.

The front suddenly stirred. More figures appeared from the open path.

He didn’t hesitate. He fired again.

From the side—movement. He swung the barrel, the gun spitting fire.

From the front—too many were advancing now.

“Ah… bastards,” he growled, unleashing a rain of bullets.

The assault rifle roared in his hands, every shot precise, deadly.

Spent shells littered the snow around his boots.

Hair falling over his face, he walked forward deliberately, each step measured, calm.

Unstoppable. Lethal. Silent in the chaos.

The mountain air carried only the echo of gunfire—and the sense that nothing would stop him.

Sonora, Mexico

The bus was silent. Everyone inside was asleep, lost in dreams or exhaustion.

The vehicle had stopped somewhere in the desert.

Clive sat alone, staring at the darkened windows. Everyone else was asleep, but in this absolute silence, his mind refused to rest.

She better be okay… he thought, glancing at his phone. I’ve been calling since morning… she’s not picking up. I just hope she’s safe, Zaya.

Outside, the desert stretched endlessly, swallowed by night. Nothing moved. Not a soul. Not a whisper. Only the bus, parked alone in the darkness.

The night was so deep, so absolute, that even the stars refused to shine yet. The sky hung like a black canvas, heavy and still, as if the desert itself were holding its breath.

Clive leaned back, trying to quiet his thoughts, but the silence was deafening. Every creak of the bus, every shifting shadow outside, pulled him further into unease.

In the bright morning light of Asia, he walked the ancient stones of the Great Wall. The fear of the night had vanished. In its place burned a fire—a relentless, consuming fire of revenge.

Step by step, he moved forward, each pace deliberate, each movement carrying the weight of his loss, the pain of his family, and the desire to take it all back.

The fire inside him grew with every heartbeat, spreading through his body like molten steel. Every distance he covered only made it stronger, more uncontrollable, more alive.

In his hand, he gripped a steel rod. Not casually—like a man who could unleash it on anyone, anything, anywhere. A weapon, yes, but more than that: a symbol. The symbol of his vengeance.

He was not walking to survive. He was walking to hunt. To strike. To reclaim. To punish.

The Wall stretched endlessly before him, winding through mountains and valleys. And with every echo of his footsteps, the world felt smaller, tighter, as if it were holding its breath—waiting for what he was about to unleash.

Seoul, South Korea

The streets were quiet, almost unnervingly so. A man walked slowly, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The city lights cast long shadows on the pavement, but the fatigue in his body made every movement feel like a struggle.

My wife… my daughter… he thought, jaw tight, mind racing. Wait… wait. I’m coming. I’ll protect you.

Ahead, from a narrow side street to his right, movement caught his eye. Prisoners. They were approaching, their pace steady, deliberate, and ominous.

Panic surged. He didn’t hesitate. Turning sharply, he sprinted toward the nearest shop, slipping inside and pressing himself against the shadows.

Inside, his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Shelves were stocked with snacks. Carefully, he reached for a packet, his hands trembling slightly. He settled on the floor, hidden behind the counter, and tore it open.

The crinkle of the wrapper sounded deafening in the silence, yet he couldn’t stop. He ate slowly, cautiously, every bite a small comfort as his heart raced.

Outside, the quiet city continued, but the tension lingered—prisoners moving closer, the night holding its breath, and the man caught between fear and survival.

Seoul, South Korea

After some time, he stepped out of the shop and continued down the empty street.

As he passed an old building, a sound reached his ears.

“I… am… alone.

I… am… alone…

I am alone…”

He stopped.

The voice was faint, fragile—like a child singing. A girl.

He turned toward the building. The sound was coming from inside.

Carefully, quietly, he slipped in, his senses alert.

Again, the voice echoed softly.

“I… am… alone…”

He listened closely.

Above, he realized.

He began climbing the stairs.

“I… am… alone…

What should I do…”

The voice sounded closer now—second floor, maybe third.

He continued upward.

“I AM alooone…”

Now he was sure.

Third floor.

He reached it slowly, cautiously—and then he saw her.

A little girl sat near the stairwell, small and still, singing to herself.

He approached calmly.

She noticed him.

Fear instantly filled her eyes.

“What do you want?” the girl asked, her voice shaking.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said gently. “I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

“Then why did you come?” she asked.

“I came to listen to your song,” he replied politely.

“My… song?” she said, surprised.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“You won’t kill me?” she asked softly.

“No,” he said. “Why would I kill you?”

Her shoulders relaxed a little. She calmed down as he came closer.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Dae-hyun,” he said. “And yours?”

“Seo-ah,” she replied.

“Seo-ah,” Dae-hyun said gently. “That’s a nice name.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Are you alone here?” he asked.

“Yes,” Seo-ah nodded.

“Where are your parents?” Dae-hyun asked carefully.

Her lips trembled. Her eyes filled with tears.

“This morning there was no food,” she said quietly.

“So my mother said she would go to the market… but she never came back.

And my father… he hasn’t returned since last night.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Dae-hyun bent down in front of her, lowering himself to her level.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Your parents will come back. Until then… stay with me.”

“With you?” Seo-ah asked.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Because this place is dangerous.”

“But—”

“I won’t hurt you,” he interrupted gently.

“And if you stay with me, those people won’t be able to hurt you either. Okay?”

Seo-ah hesitated for a moment.

“…Okay,” she said

Sonora, Mexico

The driver woke up in the middle of the night and decided it was time to move.

The bus engine came to life.

Clive was already awake, staring out into the dark desert when he felt the vibration. He noticed the bus starting and stood up, walking toward the driver’s seat.

The driver sat calmly behind the wheel, guiding the bus forward. He glanced at Clive as he entered.

“Couldn’t sleep?” the driver asked.

“No,” Clive replied.

The driver let out a soft chuckle—not loud, just casual.

“Fear doesn’t let you sleep.”

Clive nodded. “True. But you didn’t sleep either.”

“I did,” the driver said. “Woke up just now and thought—might as well drive.”

Clive looked at him. “Robin… I have to admit, you’ve got real courage. Even in a situation like this.”

Robin smiled faintly. “What choice do we have?”

“That’s true,” Clive said.

The bus moved forward for a while.

Then suddenly—it stopped.

Clive frowned. “What happened?”

“Looks like we ran out of fuel,” Robin said, checking the dashboard.

“So… now what?”

Robin sighed. “We’ll have to walk.”

“Walk?” Clive repeated.

“Yes. About a kilometer from here, on the left side, there’s a village. There’s a petrol pump there. We’ll have to get fuel from there.”

Clive thought for a moment. “Who’s going to go?”

Robin looked at him. “We are. Who else?”

Clive shook his head. “No. You stay here. I’ll go.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because your life is the most important right now,” Clive said calmly.

Robin laughed softly. “What have I done to deserve that?”

“If you’re not here,” Clive replied, “who’s going to drive the bus?”

Robin laughed again.

“You stay,” Clive said firmly. “I’ll go.”

“But going alone isn’t safe,” Robin warned.

“I know,” Clive said. “But we don’t have many options.”

Clive stepped out of the driver’s cabin and started toward the door.

Suddenly, Robin shouted from inside,

“Take the tour guide with you!”

Clive turned. “What?”

“It’s not safe to go alone,” Robin said. “Take her with you.”

“So I leave everyone here and go get fuel?” Clive asked.

“You don’t need to protect them,” Robin said. “Just take her.”

“But—”

“Listen,” Robin interrupted. “She knows where the village is. Taking her makes sense.”

Clive exhaled. “Alright.”

“Wake her up,” Robin added.

Reluctantly, Clive did.

She stirred, opened her eyes, and looked at him.

“What happened?”

“We ran out of fuel,” Clive said. “We need to go to the village and get petrol.”

She hesitated and glanced outside the bus window.

“But it’s night… and there are aliens out there.”

“Yes,” Clive said. “But it’s dark. Maybe they won’t notice us. Walking at night might actually be safer.”

She stayed quiet for a moment, then nodded.

Clive opened the bus door and stepped out. The tour guide followed him into the desert night.

“By the way, Miss Nayeli,” Clive said, “aren’t you scared?”

“I am,” she replied honestly. “But what else can we do?”

Clive gave a small, casual smile.

Together, they headed left—toward the village, disappearing into the darkness.

After a while, they were walking deeper into the desert, the bus now far behind them. Sand shifted softly beneath their feet, and the night air felt cooler with every step.

Clive broke the silence.

“By the way… I just realized something.”

Nayeli glanced at him. “What?”

“Robin told me to take you along because you know the routes,” Clive said. “But I forgot that I also have a phone with maps.”

Nayeli smiled faintly. “That’s okay. Honestly, going alone wouldn’t have been safe anyway.”

Clive nodded. “True. But taking someone along also comes with risk.”

“Going alone is riskier,” Nayeli replied without hesitation.

Clive exhaled and gave a small nod. “Alright. You win. Going alone is more dangerous.”

Nayeli smiled at that.

They walked in silence for a few moments, the desert stretching endlessly around them.

Then Nayeli spoke again, carefully.

“By the way… is Eliza your girlfriend?”

“No,” Clive replied immediately.

“Oh,” Nayeli said. “I thought she was. The way she stays close to you… it felt like that. So she’s really not?”

“No,” Clive said. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Nayeli hesitated for a second. “So… you’re single then?”

Clive shook his head. “No. I’m married.”

Nayeli stopped walking for half a second. “What—really? I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Clive said calmly.

They continued walking, the desert quiet once again, their footsteps the only sound beneath the dark sky.

They walked in silence for a while, the desert stretching endlessly around them, sand shifting softly under their feet. The faint glow of the distant village lights ahead barely cut through the darkness.

After a pause, Nayeli spoke gently.

“Sorry to ask,” she said, “but… why didn’t your wife come with you?”

Clive hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“She was supposed to come,” he said quietly. “But something came up at work at the last moment.”

“Oh,” Nayeli nodded, her curiosity softening. “What does she do? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“She works in marketing,” Clive replied.

“Oh,” Nayeli said thoughtfully. “So she’s from the U.S. as well?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes briefly on the desert ahead.

“And where in the U.S. do you live?” she asked.

“New York,” Clive answered.

“New York,” Nayeli repeated, a small smile on her face. “Oh… so that’s why you were shouting ‘America’ back then.”

Clive exhaled lightly, almost a chuckle escaping him. “Yeah.”

They walked a few more steps, the silence of the desert wrapping around them once again.

Nayeli glanced at him and asked carefully, “What’s your wife’s name?”

“Zaya,” he said.

“Zaya,” she repeated softly, as if testing the name on her tongue.

“Yes,” Clive said. Then, looking ahead, he asked, “How far is the village from here?”

“Not much now,” Nayeli replied. “Maybe five hundred meters more.”

“That’s good,” he said. Then, with a sudden serious glance, “You do know where the bus is parked, right?”

Nayeli looked at him, pretending to be innocent. “No,” she said.

Clive stopped, frowning. “What?”

She smiled faintly. “I’m just kidding. Of course, I know.”

Clive let out a sharp breath. “Don’t do that. You’ll get me killed someday.”

Nayeli laughed softly, the sound blending with the whisper of the desert wind. They continued walking, their footsteps fading into the vast, quiet desert as the village lights slowly grew closer.

--- --- --- --- TO BE CONTINUED --- --- --- ---

CHAPTER 2 PART 2

                                  Written & Created by                                           DARK_Novels_