Crack!
Thunder split the night, striking a nearby tree. Flames erupted, red and violent, the blaze casting everything in a crimson glow. Rain lashed down in sheets as winds howled, churning the storm into chaos.
"Damn it, it's getting crazy out here," Chad muttered, squinting as their path back was swallowed by fire and wind.
"Ahhhhh!"A shrill scream tore through the storm from behind. Remy and Chad froze, then their stomachs dropped in unison.
"Ah, damn it—I knew it," Chad cursed.
They sprinted back toward the crimson tree. By now, its branches had swollen with fruit and flowers, each a deep, bleeding red. Petals unfurled in the storm, swaying unnaturally as they cast clouds of pollen into the air. Beneath the roots, the grass blackened and withered, life bleeding out of the soil.
"Charles… hey, what's wrong?" Remy shouted, his voice shaking.
No answer.
They crept closer—and froze. Charles lay slumped on the ground, limp and pale. Vines coiled around him like snakes, pulsing, feeding, draining the color from his veins. His blood ran thin through the tendrils that pierced his flesh.
"Damn it—what the f*ck happened in just that short while?" Chad gasped. His torch clattered to the mud as he lunged at the vines, tearing at them with both hands.
"Aghh!" He recoiled instantly, blood spilling from fresh gashes across his palms as though invisible blades had shredded him.
"Don't touch them!" Chad barked, breath ragged, stopping Remy mid-step.
"Then what—he's dying…" Remy snapped back. Charles's breathing was heavy, uneven, slipping further with each second. "We have to do something, or else he's going to die."
"Yes, I know… but we'll die too if we try to force the vines off." Chad's eyes darted around, desperate, searching for anything that could help. They had no weapons. And they couldn't risk using the Mystic—not with detection hanging over them.
For a moment, hesitation held them. Then Remy lunged for the torch, its flame sputtering weakly in the storm. He waved it until the fire licked higher, then pressed it to the vines.
The reaction was instant. The tendrils recoiled, hissing as they pulled back toward the tree. Flames caught along their length, twisting upward, and the stench that followed was unbearable. It wasn't the smell of wood or plant—it was the sickly reek of burning flesh, like corpses turning to ash.
"Charles… Charles…" Chad's voice cracked as he hauled his friend upright, cradling him into a sitting position.
Charles's eyelids fluttered, slowly, painfully, until they parted. His eyes found Chad through a fog of blur, empty and dazed.
"What happened, man…" Remy asked, torch swinging as he kept the vines at bay.
"It's… it… it's—her. L-Lucy—she's not hum…" Charles paused, then his demeanor changed. "she's so wonderful… hahahaha…" Charles muttered, his voice cracking before breaking into weak laughter.
"He looks intoxicated—look at his eyes; they're dilated," Chad spoke, hauling Charles up as Remy fended off the branches with the torch.
At last, they stumbled beyond the reach of the crimson tree, slogging down the muddy path. The flame before them sputtered, shrinking under the weight of the rain.
"Come on, Charles—tell us what happened…" Chad pressed again, his voice strained.
"Open your eye… hahahaha… open… open… eyes…" Charles mumbled, words muffled, broken, senseless.
"What are you talking about? Our eyes are open!" Chad snapped, nearly pitching forward as a stone caught his foot. Remy caught him just in time, steadying them both.
Their lodging loomed faintly in the distance, but the storm gave them no mercy. The rain blurred their sight, the wind shoved against them, and each step through the mire dragged like lead.
As they approached their lodging, the sky turned crimson. The stars faded, and the moons were swallowed by thick, rolling clouds. Everything was drenched in an eerie red glow. Even the wheat fields looked as if they had been splattered with blood as they swayed side to side in the wind.
Nee-nawwwwwwwww!
A siren blared, so loud it echoed across the entire land.
The boys froze where they stood, their bodies stiff, their eyes darting upward, anticipating danger.
Grooo… Groooo…
Whistling and shrill stifling sounds carried from the distance. Fear seeped into their bones, gripping them in place.
Without speaking, both boys activated their eyes. Chad's eyes, which had dulled brown since entering the city, now flared green again, just as when Remy had first met him. Remy's left eye turned the same glowing green, while his right eye remained unchanged.
"Ahhhh… shit," they muttered at the same time.
"We are so f*cked…" Remy whispered, scanning the distance.
The sky was alive with faces—translucent, drifting, mournful. They floated as though caught in a current, mouths open in silent screams, eyes wide with grief that never ended. The crimson light painted them as though they were burning, their forms flickering like smoke caught between this world and the next.
"Damn… How many people did they kill to fill the entire sky?" Chad murmured, his voice heavy with dread.
Remy couldn't answer. His chest ached just watching a face that seemed familiar. It was the crazy man that they had seen when they were going to town the previous day; his soul was condemned to wander above like a scar that bled into the heavens.
"We have to get the f*ck out of here—this is way above our skill level," Remy hissed, tightening his grip as he helped Chad carry Charles.
They stumbled down the hill, mud sucking at their boots. Ahead, the shape of the house flickered in the distance through the rain.
Then it came.
A scream—piercing, hollow, drenched in despair.
"Ahhhhh… help… Help me, please!"
The boys froze. The sound cut straight through their bones, forcing them to glance at each other. Neither wanted to say it, but both knew the weight of the choice before them.
"She might die…" Chad muttered, his voice unsteady, almost pleading.
Remy clenched his jaw, unconvinced, but he saw the desperation of Chad's face. He shifted Charles's weight, and together they turned toward the wheat fields. The stalks rose high and swayed violently in the wind, like living blades.
Through them, she came—Lucy.
This prompted the boys to stop walking; Remy's hand folded behind his back as he drew a dagger from the shadows.
She was running toward them, arms stretched out, rain plastering her hair to her face. But it wasn't relief that marked her features. It was something else.
Her mouth was stretched in a grin too wide, too sharp, too wrong.
"There… I found them…" she spoke, stopping in her tracks.
And then, from the shadows of the fields, two figures stepped out on either side of her.
Silent.
Waiting.