Sunlight poured in through the windows, flashing off Nasa's sweat-slicked skin as he moved. His eyes burned with focus, every strike and parry a promise to himself and the forest he would return to. He pushed his body beyond pain from dawn till dusk, oblivious to hunger, oblivious to fatigue, driven only by relentless determination.
That same night, he slipped out through the window, carrying a bag stuffed with essentials and plenty of food, he wasn't going to repeat the same mistake again.
After walking nonstop, he finally arrived, and he ran out of breath immediately. "Fuck… why… is… it… so… far?" Nasa attempted to say, but he couldn't breathe.
He stepped into the forest, moving deeper and deeper until the stench of blood and rotting flesh filled his nose. He glanced around, searching for the source of the smell.
Then he spotted the same monster he had killed yesterday lying on the ground.
"Huh? I'm no expert in medicine, but a corpse shouldn't decompose this fast," Nasa said, poking the body with his sword.
(….)
"Nah, who cares... I'll go and hunt down my next victim," Nasa said with a smirk.
Then he went on a rampage, slaughtering everything in sight. Small or large, tall or short, cute or ugly, it made no difference. He spared nothing, cutting down every beast until he was drenched in blood.
"Hey—di—" Nasa heard a muffled voice from deeper in the woods. He slipped behind a tree and peered around the trunk to see who it was.
"Hey, how many pills did you make today?" the first man asked.
"About 30. You?" the second replied.
"75. Guess that means you're buying breakfast tomorrow," the first said with a grin.
With that, the two of them left the forest together.
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭…? 𝘗𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴.
So Nasa followed the path they had taken, the trail heavy with the stench of blood lingering in the air.
The farther he walked, the more the trees fell away, until the forest opened into a wide clearing. Looming in the dark, cold and unwelcoming, a massive bunker rose from the earth like a scar.
Nasa's eyebrows furrow. "There's a bunker here… why?" he mutters, gazing at its walls of concrete.
His hand brushed the sword at his side. "I need to find a way in."
He circled the bunker's exterior, brushing past rusted pipes and cracked concrete, searching for any weakness. After a tense minute of pacing the shadows, he spotted a narrow opening low to the ground, just wide enough for a person to crawl through.
"Jackpot," he muttered, dropping to his knees. Dirt ground into his palms as he squeezed himself into the narrow gap, shoulders scraping against the cold concrete.
He stepped inside, and the stench of blood slammed into him. "Fuck," he muttered, disgust twisting his face as he clamped a hand over his nose.
The room was dark—so dark it seemed to press against his eyes. He forced himself to look around, slow and careful, searching for any hint of light.
CRASH! CLATTER—THUD!
In the darkness, Nasa stumbled into a pile of boxes. A foul stench erupted from them, making him gag, and a strange, sticky liquid seeped onto his hand and trickled through his boots, clinging cold and slimy to his skin.
"Ugh… what the hell am I covered in?" Nasa growled, revulsion twisting his stomach.
The door creaked open, allowing light to pour in. Nasa darted behind a large box, just in time to stay hidden.
"Hah, how did this pile of boxes fall?" the man muttered, bending to pick them up one by one, carefully stacking them back in place.
Luckily, he didn't get noticed. Plot armor? No. The guy was just an idiot wearing sunglasses in a pitch-dark room, so of course he didn't see Nasa.
"Phew… didn't get noticed. But seriously, who the hell wears sunglasses indoors?" Nasa muttered, frowning as he pushed himself up.
The guy left the door slightly ajar. As Nasa approached it, his foot fell on something with a soft crunch.
He glanced down, and froze. Under his boot lay a severed human finger.
"What the FUCK!" Nasa screamed, then yanked his hand over his mouth, stifling the sound before it could carry.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵. 𝘈 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘺, 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦… 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭?
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳… 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥.
He picked up the finger and examined it. It indeed was a child's finger.
Rage bubbled up inside Nasa. He had thought this was just a drug lab, but he was wrong. This was something far worse, it was a killing chamber.
Nasa slid his hand to the hilt of his sword, fingers tightening around the worn leather. The blade felt heavy and alive in his grip. As he stepped into the hallway, the shadows stretched long and silent around him. His jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with a single, unspoken resolve.
anyone in his path wouldn't walk away alive.
"HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!" bellowed the man, his shout echoing down the corridor.
Nasa tried to strike him, but his body refused to move. Panic set in, and he spun around and bolted, the man chasing right after him.
Then he spotted a bucket filled with some kind of liquid. Without thinking, he grabbed it and hurled it at the man. Both the bucket and the contents smacked into his face.
While the man was distracted, Nasa dashed into the next room and ducked behind a stack of boxes.
𝘞𝘩𝘺… 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦?
𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦? 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘴… 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘻𝘦𝘯? 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦… 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯.
After a minute of standing frozen, he forced himself to calm down. That's when it hit him, this wasn't fiction, this was real. So real he could feel every ache in his body, so real that one wrong move could mean his death. And this… this was the first time he would kill a human. Deep down, a nervous tremor gnawed at him. He was about to take the life of his own kind.
"Alright. Time to do this. I'm ready, it won't be like cutting down monsters. But people are worse. Humans are the real monsters." Nasa said, gripping his sword so tight his knuckles went white.