The night hung grim in the sky, starless, moonless. The world was slowly sinking into an unnatural silence. The Global Institute of Population Logistics (GIPL) released data that made blood run cold: the human population had plummeted from 7.8 billion to 3.1 billion in just seven years. An average of two humans vanished every second.
Without a trace. Without an explanation.
There was no plague. No global war. Only whispers, nighttime rumors, and bodies found in horrific conditions.
Of all the circulating theories, only one name was repeated, over and over: Eaters.
An unknown creature, unrecorded in human history. Never seen clearly, except in fragments of blurry videos, the sounds of severed screams, and reports of bodies torn apart as if devoured by something not human. But their existence was no myth—and the world first became aware of it when the Daniel Jan video surfaced.
A three-minute upload, taken from the body camera of a rescue worker in a red zone evacuation area. In the video, a shaken, half-crazed Daniel recounts the moment his colleagues disappeared one by one, dragged into the darkness by something inexplicable. In the final seconds before the feed cut out, one sentence could be heard from his lips: "They aren't human... they're pretending..."
That video went viral. The world panicked. And in a matter of days, everything changed.
Governments in many nations collapsed. Cities were abandoned. Society lost faith in the system. But the most terrifying destruction wasn't what could be seen, but what was hidden.
Researchers estimated that only 4% of all Eaters had ever been seen or documented. The rest?
They blend in.
They wait.
They watch.
Amidst this chaos, the city of Antares still stood. Magnificent, glittering, bustling with activity. Surveillance cameras were scattered on nearly every corner, security systems were automated, and the digital identities of its citizens were tracked 24/7. Many believed the city was the safest because of its technology. But a deeper truth was hidden behind the glass of its skyscrapers.
Antares wasn't truly safe. It was just... collapsing more slowly.
The city pulsed without stopping, the heart of what little civilization remained. Neon lights burned brightly, cars sped along clean streets, and buildings soared as if in defiance of the heavens. But if you looked closer—behind the citizens' smiles, past the laughter in the nightclubs, and beyond the advanced advertising screens—something was wrong. Something unseen, but palpable.
Fear.
Waves of refugees came from the north, the south, and the surrounding cities. They brought the same stories: vanished families, villages that fell suddenly silent, and voices calling from behind the walls in the middle of the night. But the citizens of Antares just stared at them with cold eyes, as if that tragedy could never touch their city.
They had too much faith in the system. Too certain that technology could hold back hell.
But the night still came. And in its silence, something else slipped in with the fog that descended slowly onto the streets of Antares. Something that had long been waiting for the right moment.
And that moment... was almost here.
***
The afternoon sky was bright.
Amid the glitz and bustle of Antares, a woman in her early thirties could be seen holding a little boy's hand. A tired but warm smile was painted on her face.
"Today's your birthday, Rio," she said softly. "Let's go get that toy you wanted yesterday."
Rio nodded, his eyes sparkling. "Yay! Thanks, Mom!"
They walked toward a large, bright yellow toy store across the street. But before going in, the mother bent down and looked her son deep in the eyes.
"Remember, sweetie. Just one toy. No more."
"Okay, Mom."
Rio ran into the store, his eyes lighting up instantly at the sight of colorful shelves stacked with toys of all shapes. Battle robots, toy cars, laser guns—all of them were tempting.
The mother stood at the entrance, watching her son with a faint smile. She took a deep breath, then walked to the cashier.
"Sir," she said in a low voice, "that blue robot toy, the one my son is holding… how much is it?"
The cashier—a young man in a shabby jacket—glanced over. "One hundred thousand, Ma'am."
The mother's face immediately tensed. She opened her small shoulder bag and began to rummage through its contents. Loose change was scattered inside. She collected it on the counter, one coin at a time, counting silently.
"Five… ten… twenty…"
The total was only fifty thousand. She stopped. A moment of silence.
"Sir… can you go any lower? This is all I have…"
The cashier shook his head slowly. "Sorry, Ma'am. That's the set price. I just work here."
"Eighty-five thousand… is that possible?" she asked, her voice almost a plea.
The cashier seemed hesitant, glancing up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling.
"If I cut the price too much, my boss could get angry…"
The mother's face began to pale. She opened her bag again and took out two items: a small half-kilo packet of rice and a single egg in a clear plastic bag.
"Here… I'll trade you these, Sir. This was supposed to be for dinner tonight. But… please… Rio's birthday only comes once a year."
The cashier stared at the items for a long moment. His eyes showed pity, but also consideration.
"Is it premium rice?" he asked, half-joking, trying to lighten the mood.
The mother gave a small, bitter smile. "The cheapest kind. But it's still good."
Finally, the cashier sighed and nodded slowly. "Alright, Ma'am. It's okay. But don't tell anyone, okay…"
The mother's eyes immediately welled with tears. "Thank you… truly… thank you…"
"Rio!" she called out softly. "Go get your toy!"
Rio ran back excitedly, clutching the blue robot tightly. He handed it to the cashier then looked at his mother.
"Mom… what are we going to eat later?"
"Don't worry, Mom will figure something out, okay?" her faint smile tried to ease the tension.
Rio nodded slowly, then squeezed his mother's hand tightly. "This robot will protect you, Mom. I promise."
The mother hugged Rio tightly. She said nothing. But her heart… was close to breaking.
Outside the store, the world remained busy. The streets of Antares were filled with light and sound.
No one knew that behind that embrace… a mother had just traded her dinner for her son's smile.
***
Night fell in silence. Only the rustle of leaves and the faint sound of distant vehicles could be heard. The small house stood alone at the end of a dead-end street, dimly lit by a single, weak, flickering streetlight. There were no neighbors nearby. No other human voices.
Rio and his mother had just arrived home after a long day of walking around the city. The rented house they lived in had only one bedroom, one bathroom, and a narrow living room that also served as a kitchen.
Though small and shabby, the house always felt alive. Not because of any luxury, but because of the warmth of two souls protecting each other.
"Go take a shower, then we'll eat," his mother said, taking off her thin jacket.
"Okay, Mom," Rio replied obediently. The boy immediately headed for the bathroom.
The mother walked to the small kitchen. She opened the rice cooker—and her heart sank. There was only a quarter of a plate of rice left. She looked down, silent for a few seconds, before forcing a smile. This is enough. It has to be enough.
She secretly took out a single egg—the one she had hidden from the toy store cashier. Her last treasure for the day. She cracked it slowly, placed it in an old pan, and fried it in used oil that was starting to turn black.
A few minutes later, they were sitting on the living room floor. There was only one plate. Rice and a sunny-side-up egg on top, served especially for Rio.
"Hurry and eat, sweetie," she said gently.
Rio nodded, but his eyes were hesitant as he looked at the single plate.
"Why aren't you eating, Mom?"
"I'm not hungry. You eat, so you'll grow up big and strong," his mother answered with a smile, though the corner of her lip trembled.
But just then, her own stomach rumbled softly—quiet, but loud enough to be heard.
Rio stopped his spoon. "You are hungry, aren't you? Let's eat together."
"No, really… I'm not hungry."
"If you don't eat, I won't eat either!" Rio crossed his arms over his chest, his expression firm.
The mother looked at that little face. There was a resolve in Rio's eyes—a resolve no child his age should have.
Finally, she sighed and picked up a spoon. "Alright. I'll eat too."
Rio's face instantly brightened. "There you go!"
And so they ate together. Bit by bit. Slowly. As if they were savoring the most expensive meal in the world.
But in the midst of that warmth, the mother's phone suddenly rang. Its classic ringtone sounded shrill in the small space.
She reached into her pocket and looked at the screen. The name displayed there made her face turn pale.
CALLER: Landlord
The hand holding the phone suddenly went limp. She stared at the name for a few seconds, as if hoping she could make it disappear with just a look. But the ringing continued—an accusation that couldn't be denied.
With a stiff movement, she rejected the call. Then she put the phone down beside her and lowered her head.
Her hands covered her face. Her shoulders began to tremble.
"Mom… who was that?" Rio asked, innocently.
The mother took a long breath, then answered faintly. "It's no one…"
But her defenses shattered in an instant. She broke down in tears. Not a loud cry, but a quiet… broken one.
"I'm so sorry, Rio…" she sobbed softly, her voice cracking. "Mom couldn't even buy you a birthday cake… I don't even have money for the rent… We could be thrown out any day…"
Her eyes were wet, her gaze fixed emptily on the floor.
"Am I still worthy of being your mother?"
Her sobs deepened, held back as tightly as possible so as not to sound pathetic—but that was what made it so painful.
In front of her son, she wanted to be strong. But reality had laid everything bare.
All that was left was a fragile woman fighting alone… in a world that was constantly swallowing her whole.
The phone rang again!
The mother looked over, and this time… it wasn't the landlord.
The phone screen displayed a name that made her freeze for a few seconds. A name that hadn't appeared in a long, long time. Her hand trembled as she reached for the screen, then slid the green button.
"Hello…?"
Silence. Then a voice spoke from the other end. Not too loud, but enough to make her expression change.
Her eyes, which had been filled with tears, slowly widened. Her breathing quickened. The weight on her chest suddenly felt as if it had been lifted.
"Yes… I… I still remember…"
There was a pause, then… a smile. Gentle. Fragile. But real.
A smile like a sliver of light through the cracked walls of her life.
"Rio!" she called, still holding the phone.
The boy approached with a curious look. "Who is it, Mom?"
"My old boss… from a long time ago." Her eyes were shining, though her voice was still a whisper.
"And? What did he say?"
"He said…" the mother took a breath, as if she still couldn't believe it was real. "He said I can have my job back."
Rio was silent. His eyes slowly widened.
"And… and he's sending an advance tomorrow. He said it's enough to pay the rent… and you can use the rest. For whatever you want."
"Really?" Rio looked at his mother, half in disbelief.
His mother nodded. Her smile grew wider, but tears weren't yet dry on her cheeks.
"Starting tomorrow, you can eat well again. You can buy Padang rice, or another robot… even a birthday cake. Anything you want."
Rio immediately jumped for joy. He ran around the small room, laughing, his arms flapping in the air.
His mother's laughter broke out too, soft, muffled… like someone who had forgotten how to laugh and was only just now remembering. They laughed together. There was no big room, no fancy lights, just the sound of two human beings who suddenly felt whole again.
For a moment, it all felt like a dream.
TOK. TOK. TOK.
The sound came so suddenly—soft, slow, but it carried a strange sensation that sent a chill down her spine.
They both looked at each other. Rio stopped moving. His mother tensed, but quickly composed herself.
"Who could that be at this hour?" she mumbled, walking slowly toward the door.
She didn't open it right away. Her steps halted in front of the window. The curtain was pulled aside just a little.
Through the crack, she saw two figures standing silently outside the small gate of the house.
Their bodies were ordinary. They didn't look threatening.
But it was strange… they weren't moving at all.
Like statues. Like… they were too patient.
And for some reason, the mother felt something uncomfortable crawl up the back of her neck.
"Mom, who is it?" Rio asked from behind her.
The mother didn't answer directly. She peeked again.
And then she realized it…
The people's faces weren't clear, but… their eyes—
—were red.
Not ordinary red. Glowing red. Motionless. Hanging in the dark like embers.
For a moment, the mother froze. Her brain tried to find a logical explanation—neighbors? Her boss's friends? The police?
But her body was already more honest. Her body backed away slowly. Her breathing quickened. Her fingers went cold.
Those weren't guests.
Those weren't humans bringing good news.
It was—them.
She immediately turned to Rio. Her eyes were wide with panic. She pointed to the old wardrobe in the corner of the room.
"Quickly. Get in."
Rio looked at his mother, confused. "Why, Mom?"
"Quickly, sweetie," she whispered firmly, with no time to explain.
Rio got into the wardrobe, closing the door tightly. Darkness.
Silence.
TOK.
One more knock. Louder. Closer.
His mother held her breath. Standing rigidly in front of the door.
And then—
BRAAAKKK!!!
The wooden door was thrown open so violently it was nearly torn from its hinges. The sound was deafening, making his mother jump in panic.
Her body was thrown backward. The front of her head slammed into the hard floor—THUD!—a sickening crack echoed. Fresh blood immediately began to flow, spreading like ink on a stained piece of paper.
Rio, inside the cramped wardrobe, held his breath. Through the small cracks in the dilapidated wooden door, his eyes widened in horror.
Two figures stood there.
Tall. Silent. Their eyes glowed red—not like light, but like pits of hell staring out at the world.
Slowly… they walked toward his mother, who lay helpless on the floor.
Their steps were nearly soundless, but the fear they carried felt like a storm pressing down on Rio's chest.
This is real.
What had always been dismissed as a horrifying fairytale… was real. Eaters were real.
Rio's small body began to tremble. He tried to hold it in, biting his lip until it bled. But the fear was too great.
One of the Eaters crouched down. Its fingers grabbed his mother's long, tangled hair, and then—
BRAKK!
The mother's head was slammed against the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Blood splattered. Her forehead split open. A weak scream escaped the woman's mouth, like someone already half-dead.
"Why… did it take you so long to open the door, huh?" the creature hissed, its voice low and cold, as if it came from the bowels of the earth.
Its large hand then clenched into a fist… and was brutally forced into the victim's mouth.
CRRKK!
The mother screamed, but her voice was garbled. Her mouth tore.
The flesh of her cheek ripped.
Teeth shattered.
The creature's hand forced its way in again—and again—until the woman's face became an unrecognizable field of wounds.
Rio covered his mouth, stifling a sob. Tears streamed down his face, his body beginning to sway.
But he forced himself to keep watching.
He couldn't look away. Because in the midst of the torture, his mother turned her head… and looked directly at the wardrobe.
A mother's final look at her son.
Eyes full of pain, but also love.
Her tears flowed freely, even when her mouth could no longer speak.
And then—
The Eaters' fangs sank into the woman's neck. Instantly, blood gushed out.
They tore her apart alive. Flesh was torn like bread. Bones were snapped, her tongue chewed.
The screams of pain turned into a groan… and then went silent.
Rio couldn't take it anymore.
He shut his eyes. His hands covered his ears. But it didn't help.
The chewing sound was still audible.
Wet. Greedy. Cruel.
Like starving beasts at a feast.
Every second felt like an eternal torment. Every sound was a stab to his chest.
He wanted to run.
He wanted to scream.
But his body couldn't move. His breath was caught in his throat. It was as if the world was pressing him down to the very bottom of hell.
Time passed.
When the sounds finally subsided, heavy footsteps could be heard moving away… followed by low, long laughter, as if mocking humanity.
The house door fell silent once more.
Rio slowly opened his eyes.
He pushed the wardrobe door open with a trembling hand.
The room was now silent, but it was a wreck, like a slaughterhouse.
And there… was his mother's body.
Or what was left of it.
Bones. Tattered pieces of flesh. Scattered hair.
Rio approached it. His body swayed, his legs barely able to support the weight of the emotions crushing his small soul.
He fell to his knees beside the body.
And then he wept.
Rio knelt beside the body.
Not a body.
That wasn't his mother anymore.
All that was left were pieces of flesh and bone, like a carcass discarded carelessly.
But to Rio… it was still his mother.
The woman who always held him when nightmares came. Who kept smiling even when the world slapped her every day. The one who just moments ago… had even managed to laugh, because she had hoped life would get a little better.
And now—in a matter of minutes—it was all destroyed. Snatched away. Devoured.
Rio's tears flowed freely, soaking the blood-stained floor. His body shook violently. He slammed his fists on the floor. Again. And again. And again.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Mom…"
His cries echoed. Hoarse. Tired. Full of pain.
"If only I… had been braver…"
"If only I had come out of that closet…"
"If only I—!"
His shout broke. Then, silence.
Rio froze.
His hands clenched into fists. The tears stopped flowing, replaced by the grating of his tightly clenched teeth. His jaw hardened.
"I remember their faces..."
"I remember the sound of their laughter as they tortured her..."
And slowly, Rio's voice turned into a growl full of hatred.
"I will remember everything."
"Every second… Every wound…"
"And I… will repay it all."
Rio lowered his head. His breathing was ragged, but a fire was lit in his eyes. A fire that would not be extinguished.
He clenched his fists harder.
"Not today. But someday…"
"For you, Mom…"
"For the fear they planted…"
He looked up.
"I swear…"
"For all this pain…"
"I WILL EXTERMINATE YOU ALL."