Conor listened intently to Hans, his mind reeling. The word "demons" carried a weight that few truly understood, but he was not one of them.
He remembered all too vividly the chaos that erupted when the rifts first tore open, tearing the fabric between their world and another.
Contrary to common belief, the initial creatures that spewed forth from those gaping portals weren't the true demons.
No, those first waves were mere beasts—some resembling Earth's own fauna, others alien and grotesque. The fight against these so-called beasts was already a grueling ordeal, a struggle humanity believed was their ultimate test.
That was until the real monsters emerged from the portals: the true demons.
The most unsettling aspect was that many of these horrifying entities appeared strikingly almost human, yet they were anything but.
Others were monstrous, akin to the savage beasts from their own dimension. These creatures weren't just frightful in appearance; their strength was an undeniable force.
With a mere swing of an arm, they could flatten mountains. The very fact that humanity had survived that war was nothing short of a miracle.
Conor knew this intimately, having witnessed their devastating power with his own eyes during his childhood.
The chilling thought that these same creatures could now be living undetected among humans sent shivers down his spine.
He was terrified. Humanity had always known this fragile peace wouldn't last forever, but what if the fleeting moments they had were even shorter than they'd imagined? Conor felt his heart pound, a frantic drum against his ribs.
His blood surged, hot through his veins, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
Why do I feel like this? Conor silently chastised himself. Isn't this why I joined the military in the first place? Isn't this why I trained so hard at the academy—to be prepared, to be strong enough to fight them, to make them pay? Wasn't that the plan? But why do I feel so scared, even after all this time, after all the training?
The truth was, almost everyone on Earth had been profoundly affected by the war in one way or another, forging individuals with vastly different mentalities.
Conor, despite his youthful appearance, was in his mid-twenties. He had lost his sister to the war; more accurately, he had watched, helpless, as a demon snatched her life away.
He had been young and weak then, powerless to fight back. Fortunately, the demon had spared him, declaring it would be "more interesting" to kill him when he was older. And just like that, his sister was gone.
Since that horrific day, he had sworn to become stronger—strong enough to protect those he cherished and to avenge his sister's death. His only family.
Yet here he was, paralyzed by fear at the mere mention of the word "demon." Why was he so scared?
He had trained day and night for this moment his entire life, so why, now that the moment was drawing near, did fear grip him so tightly?
Was it the lingering scars of memory, or was it his primal human instinct kicking in, that part of him that still perceived him as too weak, too insignificant to fight a demon? Perhaps, deep down, he knew that if he were to face a demon, he wouldn't survive; he would surely lose his life.
Why all these thoughts suddenly? Focus, man, I need to get a grip of myself, Conor thought, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles whitened, as if desperately trying to hold onto every last shred of determination that threatened to slip away.
With renewed resolve, he forced himself to survey his surroundings. As he'd noted before, the area was primarily dense with trees. There were some houses scattered about, but they were largely engulfed by green vines and roots, a clear deterrent for any human inclination to approach.
This area, once a thriving human settlement, was now largely unusable, a casualty of the war's aftermath.
The specific village Hans and Conor had been sent to was a small community striving to rebuild itself to its pre-war state.
Unfortunately, no guild or faction had shown any interest in their land, leaving the villagers without the crucial funding or support needed for reconstruction.
Consequently, whenever they encountered military personnel or even simple hunters, they made sure to treat them with utmost hospitality.
The villagers hoped that these individuals would speak favorably of their good deeds to their superiors, perhaps leading to some much-needed assistance.
Tragically, despite their earnest efforts, nothing beneficial had materialized for them. Those in power simply saw no use in supporting the villagers directly. Hans and Conor, for instance, weren't sent there out of concern for the villagers' welfare, but rather for the planet's overall safety.
It was even possible that, should the situation escalate, the military would be willing to sacrifice the local population for the greater good of Earth. That was the bigger picture.
Upon Hans and Conor's arrival, the villagers, as was their custom, had taken care of them. It was during this period that Hans had stumbled upon some unsettling new information.
"And also, there's this conversation I had yesterday," Hans began, pulling Conor abruptly from his internal struggle. "I went to talk to the village head."
"And it seems there's something fishy going on in the village," Hans continued, his voice dropping slightly. "He told me that, from time to time, people would simply go missing."
"Missing?" Conor interjected, confused. "In such a small village?"
"I'm not done yet; that isn't even the real deal," Hans countered. "The thing is, after some time, a few of these missing people would return to the village, but they wouldn't behave like they normally would. It was almost as if they were completely different people, while the others never returned at all."
Hans paused, allowing his words to hang in the air. "And when further investigations were made by the head himself and a selected few trustworthy individuals, they managed to find the bodies of the others. But they weren't the same. Bite marks could be seen all over their bodies, and close to their necks, two small holes, like bite marks from a snake, were clearly visible."
It was clear... something was going on... something fishy, or meaty perhaps.
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Sorry
This month is a busy one for me , updates would not be frequent and massive like usal , got alot going theses days But i promise to still try my best .
Hope you guys can understand .
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