There I was, paralyzed by fear, unsure if I should scream, cry for help, or simply accept the chilling reality that it was over. Sweat trickled down my face as the shadowy figure loomed closer, its presence suffocating. My heart raced as I instinctively shut my eyes tight, hoping it would vanish if I pretended to be asleep. But I could feel its icy breath mere centimeters away, wrapping around me like a noose.
When I dared to peek, there it was, standing ominously in the corner of my room. Just then, a cold, clammy hand gripped my shoulder, freezing me in place. “Heather, what are you doing in your room? It’s time for dinner! How many times do I have to call you?” My mother’s voice shattered the suffocating silence.
“I'm coming!” I snapped back, irritation washing over me. She always interrupted me when I was deep in thought, crafting my world-changing bestseller. How could I ever succeed if she kept pulling me away from my creativity?
But then I noticed it was raining hard outside. In my haze, I remembered leaving my laptop on the desk, vulnerable to the pouring rain. Panic surged through me. I rushed to my room, praying the storm hadn’t wreaked havoc.
As I opened the door, a thick cloud of smoke billowed out, stinging my eyes and clogging my throat. My heart sank. The smell of burning plastic filled the air. But as I stepped inside, what awaited me was far worse than any fire.
The shadow now stood over my laptop, its form more defined—skin stretched taut over bones, eyes glinting with a hunger that sent chills down my spine. The air thickened with dread. I realized it wasn’t just my laptop that was in danger; I was the one being hunted.
In that moment, the figure lunged forward, enveloping my mother in a dark embrace. Her screams faded into a chilling silence, swallowed by the void. I grabbed my little sister, Mia, who had been standing in the doorway, frozen in fear. “We have to go!” I shouted, dragging her out into the stormy night.
As we ran through the empty streets, the shadow's haunting cries echoed behind us. Desperation clawed at my throat as I searched for anyone who could help. That’s when I saw him: a man standing beneath a flickering streetlight, his face partially obscured by shadows.
“Please, help us!” I cried, clutching Mia’s hand. The man’s eyes were piercing, filled with an ancient wisdom that sent shivers down my spine.
“I know what you’re facing,” he said, his voice steady amidst the storm. “But to defeat it, you’ll need something powerful—an ancient vase that can consume creatures like this. It’s hidden abroad, and time is of the essence.”
Without hesitation, I nodded. “What do we need to do?”
He led us through winding paths and dark alleys, eventually reaching an old library, its entrance hidden behind ivy. Inside, we uncovered a map that pointed us to a distant land where the vase was said to be kept. With no time to waste, we boarded a ship, the waves crashing violently against the hull as we sailed into the unknown.
Days later, we found the vase—ornate and shimmering with an otherworldly glow. It felt powerful in my hands, and hope surged within me. But when we returned home, the town was in chaos. The shadow rampaged through the streets, its rage palpable.
“Stay back!” I shouted, positioning the vase between us and the dark figure. But it was too late. In a swift, cruel motion, the shadow struck, and I watched in horror as it consumed Mia, her terrified scream echoing in my ears.
Rage erupted within me, a fire igniting where despair had once taken root. “No!” I screamed, feeling the power of the vase surge through me. I hurled it at the shadow, and as it shattered, a blinding light enveloped the creature, pulling it into the depths of the vase’s remnants. With a final, deafening roar, the shadow disintegrated, leaving silence in its wake.
Though I had avenged my sister, the victory was bittersweet. The pain of losing my mother and sister weighed heavily on my heart. In the years that followed, I became the Protector, guarding the vase—once a symbol of my loss, now a reminder of my duty. I often found myself lost in memories, aching for the laughter of my sister and the warmth of my mother’s embrace.
I sent the vase to one of the most famous and safe guarded place to keep it and to seperate it from the world so that no one would ever experience this ever again.
Few years later, one fateful day, everything changed. News spread like wildfire: the museum housing the vase had been broken into. Panic gripped my heart as I realized that the vase—along with the dark power it contained—might now have fallen into the wrong hands.
Who would seek to unleash that darkness? And what horrors were yet to come?
As I stood staring at the empty space where the vase once stood, a chilling thought crossed my mind:
This was only the beginning.
