"AAaAaaaaa-arghHHHH—!!!"
A blood-curdling scream echoed in the empty hallways of her mansion as the young woman jumped from her sleep in a cold sweat.
She lived alone in a spacious house filled with antique furniture and stunning paintings that lined the hallways, far from anyone who might disrupt her peace. However, solitude sometimes gave way to loneliness, where an unsettling dread crept in, stirred by the terrifying visions that had been haunting her nights.
In the dark of her bedroom chamber, her trembling hands clawed at her scalp, tugging at her hair until she nearly tore it out. The woman gripped her head with painful force, using the sharp sting to battle the drowsiness creeping in. The pain kept her awake.
"It happened again…"
Her chest heaved violently, struggling to invite any air inside. After experiencing it once more, she couldn't find any other way to calm herself down.
"This nightmare…" was too realistic not to hold any meaning.
It had been tormenting her for over ten days.
Each night, she was shown the same imagery. In complete darkness, a man clad in white stood before her, holding her slim neck caged in his fingers until they squeezed the last bit of her breath. She met his gaze, but there were no eyes—no features at all—only a blank whiteness shrouding his form.
His grip tightened.
Each time, she struggled to get away, and each time, she met the same fate—dying at his hands. The sensation of her soul leaving her body lingered long after she woke up, tethering her to the nightmare even in reality.
"So... terrifying…"
It felt like a premonition—a message sent to her consciousness by someone, or something—warning her of the enigmatic white figure.
"He's coming to kill me…!" Her voice was shaky. No matter how many times she had lived through this feeling, she could never get used to the trauma it brought. "I'm scared…"
Her hands wrapped around her body to soothe her nerves. The warmth of her palms was proof that she was still alive. Yet, she had no idea for how long her life would remain intact.
The young woman's fragile frame trembled once more.
"I don't want to die—!"
***
In the early morning, the fog was gone after the sun rose over the horizon, emphasizing the beauty of forgotten old times. Clouds covered the sky, and the day seemed muted in color but still enjoyable to take a long walk around town.
Inase and Hosen were already up for their breakfast in the local tavern, sitting across from each other at an unstable table. Inside, the air was filled with the fragrant scent of the broth.
"The cabbage soup here is quite tasty."
The blonde man spoke after shoving another spoonful into his mouth, the warmth of the meal spreading through him on the cold, autumn forenoon.
"Be careful not to choke." The other responded with a drop of cynicism. "I don't want to be giving you first-aid on our first day."
Their exchange was dimmed by the ever-so-often crackling old radio—it played jazzy tunes to liven up the atmosphere in this empty tavern. In between the dynamic melodies, the usual program announced by a host's smooth voice brought bits of entertainment to the serene setting.
It was just them alone, the sound of their utensils, and the catchy music—aside from the cook and the waiter who brought Inase his third dish.
"I guess we're eating only cabbage for the next few days."
When Inase looked at the plate, all he saw were green leaves cooked in different ways for variety and a portion of fish as salvation for a weed-filled meal.
Indeed, in times of hunger and unemployment, the most they could eat was anything related to that vegetable, occasionally potatoes if one was rich enough to buy them. Meat was scarce, but this town had at least some fish to offer.
"You sure eat a lot."
Hosen scooped another spoon of the soup, clinking against the bowl's bottom.
The tavern offered a better meal than whatever they could find after the apocalypse, in his opinion.
"Gotta add fuel to this constantly moving body."
Inase figured he would be doing all the labor for both of them.
But his sarcastic tone earned a sharp, dagger-like glare from his companion, so he decided to change topics.
"So what are we gonna do today? Walk around the town… Talk to people… Roam freely until the night comes?"
That was exactly what they were supposed to do.
"We can't do much anyway unless something happens." So they didn't need to hurry with eating either. "No leads. We don't even know what we're dealing with."
"True." Leaning against his chair, hands entwined behind the head, Inase took a laid-back approach. "Let's see what we can come across."
He hoped it would come fast because he didn't want to stay in this cheap hole forever.
"And in the meantime…" Licking his lip, he sank his teeth into the fish, soon cleaning the third plate with ease. "Let's dig in!"
***
After their breakfast, the two took their time to walk around the area, then repeated it like a routine for the following few days.
The times were dire, and the lifestyles even more. Each house they passed resembled a chapter in a collective story, filled with the routines of ordinary families.
From what they noticed, locals planned a different activity arranged each day.
On the hand-washing day, women gathered on a broad square where all carried buckets filled with soapy water for laundry. There, they shared their daily stories about their families and chattered about exciting rumors and unreliable but confirmed hearsay.
Whilst the scent of soap and damp fabric drifted through the air, recalling a sense of hard work and community, it also refreshed their fatigued minds.
The sight of clotheslines strung between buildings, arching under the weight of freshly laundered garments ready to dry under the gray sky, created a patchwork of colors—the center of a vibrant place in town.
Watching over them, elderly folks shared their stories on weathered porches; their tired faces revealed the wisdom of years gone by. It was a reminder that amidst the struggles of the era, there was joy to be found in the simplest of moments.
Then, on ironing day, mothers walked outside their homes, filling their front yards with clean clothing. They wielded steaming irons with practiced ease whilst the sound of fabric being pressed faded in the air.
Children darted between their legs, dangerously so, but the mothers didn't worry about their carelessness too much; the kids knew better than to touch a hot metal tool and get themselves hurt.
Everywhere the two men looked, they saw families—mothers and fathers tossed their responsibilities in between. While one did the work, the other took care of their many offsprings.
"They are productive."
Inase whistled after he counted at least five brats in each family, earning a jab of an elbow to his side.
The said young ones ran wild around the yard full of laughter, playing with a deflated soccer ball, used and dirty, a wreck of what once was the best toy of modern times. They paid no mind to the state of it, though—as long as they could have fun, was all that mattered.
Next, the fish-cutting day brought its unique charm, their catch glistened in the morning sun.
The sharp scent of saltwater lingered, mingling with the chaos of bargaining voices. Men gathered around, discussing new recipes and sharing tales of their adventures during net-fishing.
Such was the usual day brimming with anticipation as townies stocked food for the week ahead.
Except, not today.
Something was wrong, Inase and Hosen felt the uneasy tension from afar.
Confusion between the fishermen spread like a contagious sickness, and dreadful whispers mixed with shocked gasps had replaced the usual cheerful conversations.
"What's happening out there?"
Inase pointed to the crowd with his chin, to which Hosen shrugged.
"Don't know. Let's check it out."
Therefore, they approached the sailors. The closer they got, the more these men's concerns became apparent.
"What's going on, fellas?"
With hands in his pockets, the blonde mingled into the crowd like he was a native.
"We dunno." One of them responded. "It just happened overnight, but the fish from our emergency resources be dead."
"How can that even happen? It's the shores we talkin' about. There shouldn't be any predators nearby!"
"That can't be. They don't even have bite marks on 'em!" Another few added in disbelief.
The townies' discussion continued as the two glanced at the dead haul from the sea.
The fish were indeed dead. They didn't appear to have any outer injuries nor bitemarks in their flesh, but their empty, bulging eyes stared at them wide-open.
The image was even more haunting knowing these sea creatures do not have any eyelids.
Strange.
Inase's brows furrowed.
What might have caused them to die on such a large scale? A mass hysteria? A widespread disease? Maybe poisoning? Or perhaps something else contaminated the waters surrounding the harbor.
Then, the question would be, what exactly?
"Any ideas, doc?"
Inase turned to Hosen, but the man was nowhere to be found—only an empty space left where he should have been standing.
"Huh-?"
He looked around, puzzled.
Though luckily, just a moment later he could find the monochrome figure behind the crowd.
Once spotted, that man was already kneeling by the water source with a glass flask in his hand—his fingers stretched when he reached down to take a sample.
"This much should be enough…"
There was a limited amount of tests Hosen could do in this situation—he didn't have a proper lab or tools to conduct anything more, but was eager to get to the bottom of this issue.
So, he took the mini-bottle, sealed it carefully, and slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat with all the other hidden vials.
"You sure are fast to disappear on me."
Inase sighed in resignation before he approached Hosen, who by now, sank deep into his own world of deductions and theories.
"Not listening, I see." He approached closer. "Found out anything?"
"Not yet."
An instant response came from Hosen in an almost robotic manner—as if he practiced it beforehand.
"I'll need to experiment before I can come to any conclusions."
He finally stood from his weird crouching position.
"But for now, I'm guessing that toxic waste must've spilled recently," He pointed at the oil rig barely visible on the horizon, "and it drifted here, of all places."
How unfortunate, but so far he hadn't felt any ancient powers being involved. Who knows, though? Maybe he could find something in the water that hinted at the supernatural.
"That's just more work for us. I wish something happened that made our jobs much easie-"
"Eeeeeek!"
As though on cue, a terrified cry cut Inase's complaints short.
"Wh-what- What?"
Disoriented at first, his head perked, turning in every direction to get a grasp on the situation. But soon, he realized he needed to act quickly, as the scream didn't sound right.
"Gotta check it out."
The hot-headed man sprung on his feet, and darted ahead in a blink of an eye—soaring through the air, jumping through obstacles, and leaping over fences.
Everything happened so suddenly that he left the scientist far in the dust.
Not waiting for his slow-paced trudge, Inase raced toward the source of the scream without looking back. And, thanks to his enhanced physical abilities, he was able to get on the scene almost immediately—not even a drop of sweat formed on his forehead.
"What happened?"
He blurted out, scaring the passersby into a startled jump.
"Y-you're fast, sir." Said the shaking local, his jaw quivering visibly from his unexpected discovery.
Nearby, a crowd of gawkers gathered around, making it hard to see what was ahead.
"Whatever, there's no time to be impressed. Let me through."
Inase frantically pushed passed concerned masses until eventually noticed a grim scene unravel…
"What the…"
A dead body spread on the ground, halfway decorating the fence with a bloody stain. While it wasn't the most gruesome death Inase had witnessed, it was still unsettling enough to haunt the minds of ordinary people who saw it for the first time.
The blonde, just like the others, couldn't take his eyes off this harrowing scene.
While in the background, the worn-out radio quietly hummed, skipping a beat occasionally—interrupted by eerie cracking audio. It played a happy tune reminiscent of old vinyl records meant for a rusty gramophone.
This stark contrast only deepened the divide between the upbeat music and the grim atmosphere hovering above them.
Like a powerful force of gravity, the air grew heavy, sending chills to the curious mob once their eyes spotted fresh blood.
Yet, none of them knew that the chill they felt wasn't caused by just looking it was still unsettling enough to haunt the minds of ordinary people who saw it for the first time.
They had no idea that shadows lurked at them from far away, slithering around corners and crawling out of sight as though they were alive.