Every detail seemed amplified, even the smallest movement, as if we were on the edge of something immense, something unknown. The tension in the air was palpable, and even though I had no idea what was going on, I felt as if everyone was waiting for something.
But then, in the midst of the terrifying face reflected in the glass, suddenly, the outside world was immersed in a vast, red expanse. The white mist that had once surrounded the scene was swallowed by an intense crimson hue, as if the entire world had been painted with blood.
In the next moment, black hands, exhaling dense, heavy smoke, began to emerge from the mist. They reached out, grabbing that thing, which still grinned, unfazed. The eerie smile continued to grow as the hands enveloped it, pressing down on every part of that creature with supernatural force.
The mist, thick and pulsating, pulled it deeper into its belly, sinking further into the red darkness, as if it wanted to consume everything. Over time, the redness began to fade slowly, like a long, sigh of relief.
From the remaining mist, my Alter Ego appeared, its gaze empty and indifferent. It was just him, only him. And the terrifying thing, the one that had caused so much fear moments before, vanished without a trace.
The inside of the diner remained in absolute silence — probably because no one knew what to say after witnessing that scene. Even from my point of view, my Alter Ego must have seemed more terrifying than any monster lurking outside.
He, on the other hand, simply cast an indifferent glance inside the diner, observing the people who were frozen in fear for a few seconds. Then, he turned slowly and walked back into the thick mist, disappearing little by little, as if being swallowed by it.
His red eyes, however, still flickered through the fog for a moment, like floating embers in the dark, before vanishing completely. While I was distracted, watching the movement outside the diner, lost in my own thoughts, Arthur — sitting across from me — let out a long sigh, as if relieved.
The sound pulled me back to reality, and I turned my face to look at him. With a tired half-smile, he commented: "Honestly... it's a good thing you're on the human side. I definitely wouldn't want to die like that"
I tilted my head slightly at Arthur's comment, showing either confusion or maybe just curiosity. But in the end, I let it slide without responding. Soon after, we were both busy organizing things on the tables — more specifically, food and packaging we'd brought from a small store next to the diner.
While we arranged the items, we also partially blocked the view through the glass windows, stacking boxes and objects in front. We knew we couldn't stay there for long, so we quickly gathered some supplies and took them inside the diner, trying to improvise a temporary shelter.
According to Arthur, the amount we had gathered would be enough for about a week. It wasn't much, but I figured we wouldn't need that long to sort things out. Also, as long as those creatures couldn't see clearly inside the diner, they'd probably move away. At least, that's what Arthur assured everyone — his voice sounded confident, as if he really knew what he was talking about.
By the way, getting those supplies wasn't exactly hard. My Alter Ego took care of anything that dared approach, so all we had to do was cross over to the store next to the diner and gather what we needed. I helped Arthur carry most of the boxes back — he didn't complain, but it was clear the weight wasn't insignificant.
While I was scanning the shelves for useful items, something caught my attention: a dusty cloth doll, with a comforting look. I grabbed it on impulse, thinking about the little girl. I figured she would feel safer with something like that nearby, something to hug.
Of course, Arthur shot me a strange look, eyebrow raised in silence, but I chose to ignore it. As I've said before, I didn't grab the doll to play with it. Even with that appearance... I still consider myself a man. At least inside.
Anyway, a few hours later, when we had finished organizing everything, Arthur and I were finally ready to leave again. Standing by the door, everyone gathered to say goodbye to us. I remained quiet, watching silently as Arthur interacted warmly with each of them — smiles, handshakes, small exchanges.
Meanwhile, I felt a presence slowly approaching. When I turned my face, I saw the little girl watching me carefully, hugging the doll I had given her earlier. Her eyes were shining with a mix of curiosity and shyness, as if she wanted to say something but hesitated.
I watched her, my eyes blinking slowly as if trying to absorb every moment of that instant. She stepped closer to me, with soft steps, and, as she leaned in a little, her tiny hands brushed against my clothes, with a delicate, almost shy gesture.
She turned, staring at me with those big, hopeful eyes, before asking, in a voice tinged with a touch of melancholy: "Big sis... are you really leaving?"
I simply nodded, confirming her words, but the next moment, I noticed that the little girl's eyes were filled with sadness. Something in her gaze made me uneasy. Honestly, I was confused.
Even if she had gotten attached to me, wouldn't that have been just because of the moment I saved her? When we met, wasn't that what brought us together? But now, with her so quiet and distant, it felt like something else was going on. Did she really like me? I wondered about that, especially considering how little time we spent together. To me, it didn't make any sense.
In the end, with an impassive look, I gently placed my hand on the little girl's head. Her hair was slightly damp, but the delicate touch of my palm calmed her. As I softly petted her, I felt the lightness of her small, fragile body.
I transmitted my thoughts mentally, aware that my words would be a foundation for her comfort: (I'll defeat all the bad monsters. Then, you and your parents will be able to go back home, I promise)
The little girl, upon hearing my words, lifted her gaze, as if reflecting for a moment. Then, she gently squeezed the doll against her chest, and with a shy, serene smile, nodded. The gesture, almost imperceptible, conveyed a quiet trust. At that moment, I noticed Arthur seemed to have finished his conversation with the others, his eyes now turned toward us.
"That's it, everyone" Arthur said, his voice firm and deep, echoing through the silent room. He gave a faint smile, as if trying to reassure everyone, but his eyes remained sharp, scanning the surroundings: "Remember what I told you, stay inside and wait patiently. Stay safe, and don't take any risks. We'll handle the rest" As he spoke, he pulled his hat with one hand and placed it on his head, adjusting it with an almost mechanical gesture.
In the next moment, Arthur and I stepped out of the diner, and as our feet hit the damp asphalt, a thick fog enveloped us like a heavy cloak. No matter where we looked, it stretched endlessly, obscuring our vision and creating an eerie silence. In a big city like this, where the constant hum of cars and voices was like a second skin, the silence was an unsettling mystery.
It felt as though the entire world had stopped, as if life had been swallowed by the fog. But if we paid close attention, we could notice the presence of several anomalies, their indistinct forms moving stealthily through the mist, hidden within the dense vapor curtain.
I turned my gaze toward Arthur and noticed that he was staring directly at the glowing point ahead, still a bit distant, but already noticeably closer than when I had seen it from the base. The light seemed to pulse, as if waiting for something.
He let out a brief sigh before turning his gaze to me, his serious face reflecting the tension of the moment: "Let's go" he said in a firm, almost cutting voice: "We need to figure out quickly what's really going on"
I nodded at Arthur's words, and in the next instant, we began walking toward the thick fog stretching out in front of us. Each step seemed to take us deeper into a world where everything was submerged in a dense, silent mist.
Just before the diner disappeared completely under the fog, I took one last look at the door. The little girl was still there, her gaze fixed on mine, as though waiting for an answer I didn't know how to give. Gently, she waved her hands in a gesture of goodbye, her tiny finger waves almost imperceptible in the gloom.
I responded with a barely noticeable nod, feeling a mixture of melancholy and urgency. Then, without hesitation, I turned and continued walking, watching as the diner and the little girl slowly vanished into the fog that consumed everything around us, as if they had never existed.
***
(POV - ???)
In the absolute darkness, where space itself seemed to fade away — a pulsating void, as if the darkness had a life of its own, breathing and moving in an almost organic way — something stood out.
A small, delicate figure, resembling a little girl. She seemed to be about ten years old, but her presence was strange, almost intangible. Her body, completely detached from the surrounding environment, floated gently in the air, as if defying the laws of physics.
The little girl was in a head-up position, but her body did not touch the surroundings. The space seemed to react to her presence, gently pulsing as if it were a part of her. It was as though she were immersed inside a colossal, moist, and silent heart.
The only sound breaking the stillness was a muffled, distant heartbeat, not coming from inside her body, but from something much larger. It was as if the sound emerged from reality itself, reverberating through the invisible layers of space around her, making the environment breathe along with her existence.
She remained still, like an unfinished painting waiting for its next stroke. Her long hair waved gently, despite the absence of wind, as if nature itself yielded to move with her ethereal motion.
Her hair was alive, subtly shifting between soft shades of pink, deep blue, shimmering white, and almost imperceptible hues, as if long-forgotten colors from a lost time had emerged to touch her presence.
Her eyes were markedly asymmetrical — the left one, immersed in a black abyss, with a crimson glow swirling in the center like a living portal, pulsing with every heartbeat. The right one, devoid of any color, was an empty white and arid, with the pupil dilated and pulsing, expanding slowly and unsettlingly, as if it were an abyss swallowing time.
One of her eyes seemed to observe the present, fixed and precise, while the other, restless, seemed to be looking at something that shouldn't be seen — a distant place, or perhaps, an uncertain future. The pupils, constantly changing, oscillated slowly, sometimes thin like needles, sometimes disappearing entirely, sometimes splitting into bizarre shapes, as though unsure of their own nature, incapable of deciding what they wanted to be.
On her forehead, a luminous crack pulsed in sync with the heartbeat of the environment, emitting a soft, rhythmic light, as though the space around her were breathing. The crack in reality didn't bleed but shone, intensifying the feeling that something was about to escape from within it, something struggling to break the barrier between worlds. Her dress — or whatever it was — transformed with every pulse, changing its shape and colors with each beat.
In an instant, it was sky-blue, adorned with delicate frills resembling the softness of a calm morning; in the next moment, it turned into a dark mist, woven with lines of light that traced mysterious, temporal patterns. The fabric seemed to have its own memory, as if telling stories of futures yet to be lived, memories of alternate realities that only she could access.
The shadow creeping beneath her did not follow her. It had a life of its own. Sometimes, it would smile when hers remained absent. Other times, it would raise a hand before she even intended to do so. And on unsettling occasions, it simply wasn't there.
Around the girl, tiny sparks of energy appeared, dancing in the air, taking ephemeral forms. Butterflies made of light were born with a delicate hum and disappeared in a single breath. Lightning curled, serpentine like infant snakes, crossing the space with almost magical grace.
Symbols that no one had ever taught her formed in the air, floating like forgotten drawings, yet there was something strangely familiar about them, as though she had seen them before in a distant dream. She did not speak. She didn't need to. Her presence was enough, like a paradox embodied in the dark.
Fragile, harmless at first glance, but strangely wrong, as if the universe had tried to shape chaos and the result was this child — asymmetrical eyes and a silent smile, as if time itself had hesitated when trying to understand the simple truth of her existence. The heart still pulsing around her was the only thing that remained intact, immune to her unsettling presence. But the world? The world had already stopped trying to comprehend her.