He struck.
Again.
And again.
The screwdriver sank into the creature's skull—deep, deliberate—
its head already pinned against the shattered ground.
Each impact burst warm against his cheek.
Wet.
Metallic.
The air burned with iron.
Kael gasped, his body shuddering to the cadence of his own violence.
His grip slipped on the slick handle.
Blood streamed down his wrist,
soaked his torn sleeve.
Pain was gone.
Only the soft, obscene resistance beneath the blade remained.
But…
nothing.
No light.
No pulse.
No answer.
Only silence—
thick, breathing—
broken by the rasp of his lungs.
The thing beneath him lay still.
Long dead.
And still—
he struck.
Again.
And again.
Mechanical.
Mindless.
As if his body refused to believe the truth—
that it had all been for nothing.
A scream rose behind him.
Distant…
yet unbearably close.
"Fuck."
He stumbled back,
screwdriver raised—
a mockery of a blade.
Tiny.
Pathetic.
But it was all he had.
A tool.
Not a weapon.
And yet—
he clung to it
as if it were his spine.
Each backward step tore a grunt from his throat.
His ankle screamed.
His fingers shook.
Still—
he did not let go.
Around him—
hell unfolded.
Bones breaking.
Jaws snapping.
Blood pooling thick in the dust.
And among the monsters—
change.
Kael saw it.
Muscle swelling.
Movements sharpening.
Horror refining itself into something
almost graceful.
With every kill,
a dark pulse rolled outward—
a colossal heartbeat,
echoing through the night.
They were growing.
Literally.
Veins bulged beneath their skin,
throbbing like overfed worms.
Their cries deepened,
warped—
almost human.
One of them shrieked.
Bone and flesh erupted from its side,
spiraling into a new limb.
It lifted the arm—
—and crushed three skulls
in a single crimson bloom.
Kael gagged.
Metal flooded his mouth.
He understood.
They were evolving.
Or something close enough
to the word
to mock it.
They grew stronger.
By killing.
And him?
Nothing.
Scrap.
A rat trapped in a pit of wolves.
It wasn't a curse.
It was a law.
Kill—
or be killed.
His jaw locked.
His legs trembled.
Each step burned.
Still—
he moved.
He had nothing left.
No hope.
Only the screwdriver.
His fingers,
white with strain,
crushed the handle
until metal bit into flesh.
Absurd.
Laughable.
And yet—
his last anchor.
Then—
a rumble.
Deep.
Ancient.
Kael turned.
A creature limped toward him.
Mangled.
One eye gone.
A leg dragging uselessly behind.
But still it came.
Always forward.
Toward him.
Finally.
A target.
Weak.
Alone.
His heart kicked against his ribs.
Adrenaline ignited his veins.
He tightened his grip.
His nails drew blood.
"This time…"
The beast staggered closer,
drool spilling from broken teeth.
A wet, rattling growl
clawed out of its throat.
Kael screamed—
and struck.
Once.
Twice.
CRACK.
The screwdriver pierced its temple.
Black viscera burst free—
thick,
scalding.
The creature dropped to its knees,
shuddered,
then collapsed.
And before he could breathe—
A hiss.
A blur.
Another.
Bigger.
Faster.
It lunged—
tore into the dying body—
ripping flesh in savage jerks.
Tendons snapped.
Bones popped.
Entrails spilled,
steaming onto the ground.
Stolen.
Again.
Kael staggered back,
gasping,
eyes wild.
His hands shook so violently
the screwdriver nearly slipped free.
"WHY?! WHY DO THEY TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME?!"
His voice fractured.
Tears burned.
Blood slid down the handle,
dripping between his fingers.
He trembled.
Fractured.
I'm useless.
I'm nothing.
He stared at his hands.
Red.
Split.
The screwdriver quivered between them.
Even with all my rage…
I'm nothing.
And then—
A scream.
It tore the sky open.
A howl so absolute
it devoured sound itself.
The air warped—
shuddered—
like fabric ripped apart.
Then came the impact.
Something immense struck the earth
in the distance.
Stone exploded.
Shards erupted like blades.
Kael threw up his arm,
staggering as the shockwave hit.
Iron.
Dust.
Ash.
His heart thundered.
And yet—
nothing moved.
No roars.
No cries.
Even the beasts
had frozen.
The world itself
seemed to stop breathing.
Kael looked up.
Dust hung motionless
in the air.
Time—
arrested.
A chill slid down his spine.
Something was coming.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Only pressure.
A weight
bending the air around it.
The screwdriver trembled.
Not from fear—
from proximity.
The metal whined softly,
as if reality itself
rejected what approached.
Kael's lungs locked.
The air thickened.
Each breath burned—
dense,
cold,
cruel.
Then—
A step.
One.
Heavy.
Final.
The ground cracked.
Stone split without sound.
The world contracted,
crushed beneath an unseen will.
Kael stepped back.
His eyes swept the corpses.
None moved.
Some were collapsing inward—
drained,
hollowed.
Another step.
The silence hummed—
black,
electric.
Dust quivered
with each heartbeat.
And then—
everything stopped.
No wind.
No sound.
Even fear
held its breath.
Time waited.
Kael lowered his gaze.
A shadow stretched across the ground
at his feet.
Not his.
Not entirely.
It moved.
Slowly.
Like a breath.
And without knowing how—
he knew.
It was looking at him.