My shoes struck the frozen earth as I sprinted into the teeth of the snowstorm. The wind howled, cutting through my skin like knives, but I pressed forward. Last time, I had gone toward the mountains, where the cold had swallowed me whole and the Lanurgth Wolf had sunk its jaws into my throat, ending me.
"I should have ten… maybe five minutes," I told myself, mind racing. I tried to recall how the dream unfolded these past two nights. It always followed the same pattern: I would have between ten and thirty minutes before the wolf appeared. But in those dreams, I never ran. I walked. I scouted. Slowly.
Now the storm blurred everything before me. The wind tore at my eyes until vision itself became useless.
And yet—fear no longer bound me. What remained was something heavier. A will to endure. The sight of the skull that hung on Izic's wall. Proof that the demon could bleed. Proof that survival wasn't a lie. Today or tomorrow, it would be my hands that decided its fate.
"However long," I swore to myself, teeth clenched, lungs burning, my breath pouring into the storm like fire against ice.
I had no clue where I was going. The direction I chose was to the left of the mountain. Instead of fleeing the opposite way, this time I kept the mountain at my side—it was my key to navigating the storm.
I couldn't tell how long I had been running. The cold began to lessen, and the sting of snow against my skin grew weaker and weaker. But instead of snow blinding me, a heavy smoke forced me to stop. I looked left, then tore my gaze right, then turned completely—yet the mountain that had guided me was gone. All that remained was a white haze surrounding me, casting its glow upon the dirt-gray ground.
The smoke's light was irritating, but it carried less bite than snow. My eyes could finally open without squinting, and I could see my surroundings clearly.
Rather than turning back, I pressed forward into the fog. From the moment I had awakened in this dream to the moment I stepped into the haze, time itself seemed to fold into silence.
My right hand clenched the dagger as I recalled my first two dreams. I had a hunch. First, it seemed whatever I wore came with me into the dream. Second, the last time I woke from the dream, I had been clutching the bedsheet. That led me to realize—whatever I held would come with me as well.
And I was right...
My legs carried me down the foggy, silent path, each step slower than the last. Deep inside, I felt the weight of being watched.
Kaaa—
My head snapped upward. Nothing but the gray haze above. Shit… what was that? I forced myself forward.
Further… and further.
Kaa!
A sudden swish split the fog, black lightning streaking down from nowhere, as if the darkness of mystery itself had descended. It struck me full in the chest.
The world turned upside down. My body flew weightless, then crashed heavily. Breath burst from my lungs in a mist of spit. My head throbbed with pain, like the drop of a rollercoaster but instead of landing clean, I slammed into agony.
I forced my mind to think, my body to move, dragging myself upright. The pain of this dream was no different from life.
What was that? Shit—was that even a bird? What the hell?
Still dazed, I didn't notice at first—I had dropped my blade.
I searched frantically, right, left, then down. A few steps, then I found it. As I bent to grab it—
Bang!
My body was thrown again. The creature came too fast, but my hand had already closed around the dagger. I laughed in defiance, the thought of victory burning through the fear.
But time itself slowed. The creature dragged me back, its claws buried deep in my body. Its movement faltered as its fangs tore free of my flesh. I glared at its face: a nightmare made flesh. Wings vast and beaten, a face twisted like a vampire bat, ears as large as its skull, eyes empty, colorless pure rage, pure death. It shrieked and slammed into me again.
Bang!
Blood sprayed. My mind rang. My thoughts crawled. I refused to die such a pitiful death. My will clawed at my right hand, forcing it forward, every last strength pouring into my arm. I seized the dagger with both hands and drove it into the creature's eye.
Pop!
Its eye burst like a balloon. The scream that followed was deafening, a siren ripping through my skull. Still, I pressed deeper. The blade cut until it struck bone. Blue-black blood gushed. Its head jerked, flinging me aside before it let go. I swung in fury, slicing deep across its face, carving through its nose and ruined eyes.
The monster reeled, wings thrashing, its massive form collapsing. Its scream tore through the fog as it stumbled, staggering like a wounded beast. I forced myself to stand, though blood poured freely from my wounds. Not out of fear, not because I had already died, but because I refused to leave this demon alive. Like the wolf, this one too must fall.
I looked down at my body: small, broken, riddled with holes. My intestines nearly spilled, my lungs drowned in blood. Yet my will burned unending. A fire sparked within me, kindled by Izic's voice, words I would never forget.
I crawled onto the fallen beast, no less than twenty feet wide with wings spread across the ground. Its breath rattled, each exhale a dagger, daring me: If I am to die, I will take you with me.
Clutching the dagger, I struck. Each stab forced the creature to gasp, to convulse. It tried to raise its arms to crush me, but I was relentless. My frenzy was mine alone. My mind was mine alone. I was mad, yes—but I was also awake.
I am Ash.
I am Elliot.
I am the end of this creature.
This world will not kill me like a fool. I will live.
Each thrust, I whispered it through bloodied lips. I will live. I will live.
My lungs flooded. My arms trembled. My hands, drenched in red and blue, quivered as I forced the blade again and again. Until at last, its eyes went still Lifeless. Its mouth, once devouring the air itself, hung open with a tongue black as death spilling out.