The gigantic beast lunged at Tailer, its fangs gleaming with a black venom, its claws sharp enough to slice through stone. The ground trembled beneath its weight. Tailer had only a split second to react. He rolled to the side, narrowly escaping the savage strike. A hot breath swept across his face — the beast had missed him by mere inches.
He got back on his feet, screaming, clutching his weapon as if it were an extension of his soul.
— "Come at me! I WON'T DIE TODAY!"
Behind him, other children, weakened but inspired, began to fight back. They shot wildly, but their fear slowly turned into rage. One of them, barely younger than Tailer, stood beside him and shouted:
— "Do you even know how to aim?"
— "I'll learn — even if it's the last thing I do."
The monsters were everywhere now. Some climbed the crumbling walls, others leapt from roof to roof, screaming from their demonic throats. The rebels were firing in every direction, but all sense of order had collapsed. It was war — a desperate, hopeless war.
And in the heart of this chaos, Tailer moved as if he had always belonged to it. He conserved his bullets, aimed for weak spots, protected those who fell. Every second alive was a miracle.
But in a corner of his mind, one image kept coming back: his little brother, León. Was he still alive? Had he seen these same horrors? Tailer didn't know. But one thing was certain: if he survived this night, he would find him.
He turned, a makeshift grenade in hand. He threw it toward a group of creatures gathered near the main entrance of the camp.
The explosion shook the whole area, sending flames and monstrous guts flying through the air.
Screams tore through the night like blades. Fire consumed the rooftops, the cries of children mingling with those of the monsters. Tailer, covered in blood — both beast and human — ran breathlessly, his heart pounding out of control.
He had only four bullets left. Around him, the kids were shooting, crying, falling. The rebels had lost all control. The giant beast, wounded but still alive, kept striking, crushing entire groups beneath its monstrous limbs.
— "We have to go! This way! A breach in the fence!" yelled a former rebel, his face blackened with ash.
Tailer didn't think twice. He grabbed a child wounded in the shoulder, hoisted him onto his back, and shouted to the others:
— "FOLLOW ME! RUN NOW OR DIE HERE!"
The breach was barely visible, hidden behind a pile of smoldering corpses. About twenty children made it through, running for their lives. Others fell, snatched by claws or crushed by flaming debris. Tailer, his muscles burning, managed to pass through, the child still clinging to his back, his gaze locked forward, tears mixing with sweat.
Once outside the camp, they plunged into a dark, misty forest. Silence reigned there — a strange contrast to the massacre they'd just escaped. The youngest collapsed from exhaustion, others still wept for their lost friends.
Tailer finally set the child down, gasping for air. He looked around. Of the sixty children they had, only about fifteen remained.
— "We… we made it…" one of them whispered.
But Tailer knew it wasn't over. This was just a pause in the nightmare. The whole world was collapsing, and their only hope was to survive until dawn.
He sat down against a tree, eyes drifting toward the stars barely visible through the smoke.
He thought of León. Hang in there, little brother. I survived… so you have to as well.
The group moved quickly but cautiously through the forest. Every snapped branch, every rustle made the youngest jump. Tailer stayed at the rear, firmly holding the wounded child's hand, eyes scanning the darkness for any movement.
Night was falling, and the atmosphere grew heavier by the second. The silence of the woods felt unnatural, as if nature itself was holding its breath. One of the rebels at the front whispered:
— "Maybe we're safe now..."
But before the words could settle, a sharp, slicing sound tore through the air.
A scream. A crack of bone.
An innocent child was decapitated in an instant, his head hitting the ground with a dull thud.
Blood splashed onto Tailer's face.
He froze.
His heart skipped a beat.
— "NO!!!" he shouted, pulling the surviving child close to him, shielding him.
A monster, human-sized, stood before them. Its pitch-black skin seemed to absorb all light, and its glowing red eyes sparkled with sinister intelligence. It licked the blood off its claws, like a predator savoring its first kill.
— "Open fire!" a rebel yelled.
A storm of bullets erupted. The forest echoed with gunfire and screams. But the monster was fast—inhumanly fast. It darted between trees, vanishing and reappearing like a phantom.
One rebel was pierced straight through the chest.
Another had his throat slashed open.
— "We'll never get it from a distance!" shouted one of the survivors.
Tailer, panting, hands shaking, spotted the body of a fallen rebel, his fingers still clenched around a long survival knife. Without thinking, he dashed toward it, slid to his knees, and ripped the blade from the still-warm corpse.
— "Cover me!" he yelled, charging at the monster.
Bullets kept raining around him, buzzing through the air like furious hornets. The rebels aimed with nearly supernatural precision, trying not to hit Tailer. One wrong move could mean his death.
The monster lunged at him, jaws wide open.
Tailer rolled to the side, dodged, and drove the knife deep into the creature's thigh.
A monstrous scream echoed through the forest.
The hand-to-hand fight was savage. The wounded monster grew even more furious. It clawed, bit, trying to gut Tailer. He narrowly dodged, though one deep gash opened along his left side.
Blood poured out.
But the rebels didn't give up.
— "To the right! It's distracted!" one of them shouted.
— "Shoot now!"
A bullet hit the monster's shoulder. Another struck its back. It roared again, disoriented.
Tailer seized the moment. He jumped on the creature, drove the knife into its throat — again, again — until its gurgling stopped, until the beast collapsed, lifeless.
Silence.
They all stared at him — shocked, exhausted.
The monster's body lay there, soaked in black blood.
Tailer, arms trembling and face burning, fell to his knees, gasping for breath.
— "It's over..." he whispered.
But deep down, they all knew — this was only the beginning.