The wail had not been a dream.
It came again, louder this time, and with it came others—shrieks, the clash of metal, the low growls of something not human.The boy jerked awake, heart thudding, his sister still clinging to him in her sleep. A tremor shook the floorboards, rattling the wooden cup on the shelf. He heard his mother's sharp intake of breath in the other room, his father's muttered curse.
Then the first scream ripped through the night.
His father burst through the doorframe, face pale and eyes wide."Up! Now!" he barked, snatching the boy by the arm.His mother swept in behind, already lifting the girl into her arms. "Hold on tight, Emi! Don't let go of me!"
"What's happening?" the boy cried, but the only answer was another scream, closer now—a wet, choking sound that ended suddenly.His father shoved open the back door. "Run to the woods! I'll cover—"
But he stopped mid‑sentence, staring.
Outside, the village was burning.Flames licked up thatched roofs, turning night into a hellish orange. Shapes moved through the smoke—tall, twisted silhouettes, their limbs too long, their mouths too wide. Demons.
One of them dragged a screaming woman by the hair. Another pinned a man to the dirt with a taloned foot, then brought its jagged teeth down on his skull.The sound—bone cracking, flesh tearing—made bile rise in the boy's throat.
"Go!" his father shouted, shoving them toward the trees.But there was no safe path. A demon leapt onto the thatch above them, its claws raking furrows into the wood. Sparks rained down. It dropped into their yard, landing with a thud that shook the earth.
It was enormous—skin a patchwork of scales and exposed muscle, eyes burning with cold fire. It grinned, a gash of jagged teeth, and swung one massive arm.
The blow caught his father square in the chest.The sound was a horrible crack, like a sapling snapping. His father flew backward, slamming into the side of the house, breath leaving him in a wet gasp. Blood spattered across the doorway.
"Father!" the boy screamed. He tried to run to him, but his mother clutched his wrist, dragging him back. Her face was streaked with soot and tears."Don't look! Run!"
They ran.
Around them, the village became a slaughterhouse.A man tried to fight back with a pitchfork; a demon snatched him by the legs and tore him in two, intestines spilling like ropes onto the dirt.A cluster of children huddled near a cart; a winged creature swooped down, talons raking through tiny bodies, scattering them like dolls.The air reeked of burning wood and blood, of iron and smoke so thick it clawed at their throats.
The boy stumbled, feet slipping in something wet. He looked down and saw a severed arm, fingers still twitching. He gagged, nearly fell, but his mother hauled him up, screaming for him to run.
They made it as far as the old well before another demon appeared, this one crawling on all fours, its spine arched and its jaws unhinging like a snake's. It lunged at them.His mother turned, shielding them, holding nothing but a kitchen knife."Run, my babies! RUN!"
The demon's claws raked across her chest. The boy heard the rip of fabric, then the horrible sound of flesh tearing. Her eyes widened in shock as blood poured from her like water from a broken jar."Ma—!" the boy wailed.She pushed him, even as she fell, even as the demon's teeth closed around her throat and ripped.
Her body crumpled to the ground, head at an angle that wasn't right, eyes still wide, mouth still open as if about to say his name.
He dragged his sister into the shadow of a wagon, both of them trembling, choking on sobs. He couldn't stop looking at his mother's body, the pool of blood spreading, the demon crouched over her like a dog over a kill.
"Emi… don't look," he whispered, but his sister was already crying, her tiny hands over her eyes."I want Mama," she whimpered.
A shadow fell across them.The boy turned, and a different demon loomed there, towering, with a face that looked half‑melted, glowing eyes fixed on them.It reached down.
He grabbed his sister and ran, but he was too small, too slow. The claw caught him across the back, white‑hot pain exploding as it tore through skin. He screamed, but didn't stop running.
Somewhere beyond the fire, beyond the screams, he thought he saw a figure sitting under a tree—a man in his twenties, drinking from a gourd, watching with dull eyes."Help us!" the boy screamed, voice raw. "Please!"
The man didn't move.Another demon howled. The boy turned back to run, dragging Emi, but his vision swam, his legs heavy. He stumbled again, pain blinding him, and the last thing he heard was his sister's terrified cry as something massive closed in behind them.
And then—darkness.
The massacre went on, and the night filled with sorrow and death.