Kaelen stared at the bright-haired woman before her, questioning whether what she was seeing was even real. Carefully, she stepped closer to the sleeping stranger and crouched down, still clutching her rusted knife in case of any sudden movements.
"Hey. Wake up," Kaelen ordered, giving the woman's cheek a firm poke.
"Ngh… five more minutes, please," the woman mumbled, a faint smile curling her lips as she shifted slightly in her sleep.
'Is she actually dreaming right now!?' Kaelen's jaw tightened. She couldn't decide what angered her more—the fact that this stranger had somehow intruded into her only semi-safe haven, or that she was sleeping so peacefully in this hellscape.
"I said wake up!" Kaelen snapped, grabbing the woman by the shoulders and shaking her until she groaned and finally sat upright.
"Alright, alright, I'm up! For Maldruk's sake, can a woman get some rest around here!?" the woman shouted, her frustration seemingly directed more at the world than at Kaelen.
'Who the hell is Maldruk?' Kaelen thought, but decided to push the question aside—there were bigger concerns right now.
"Who are you?" she asked, her tone caught somewhere between curiosity and unease.
"Shouldn't you be the one introducing yourself first?" the woman countered, rubbing her eyes. "You're technically the guest here, after all."
'This little…' Kaelen bit back a curse, exhaling sharply through her nose. Her day had already gone to hell—she wasn't in the mood for games. Kaelen frustratingly pointed toward her pile of clothes and blankets on the other side of the room.
"I was here first. My stuff's right there."
The woman glanced toward the small pile of clothing Kaelen pointed at, then back at her with a sheepish expression.
"Huh. Not sure how I didn't notice that," she admitted, brushing the dust off her clothes as she stood. After a long stretch, she extended a hand toward Kaelen with an easy smile.
"Well, my friend, my name's Seren. Mind if I stay here for a bit?"
Kaelen eyed the offered hand for a moment, weighing her options, then reluctantly reached out and shook it.
"Kaelen Romero."
Now that Seren was standing, Kaelen noticed something immediately—she was short. At first, she assumed it was simply due to Seren's stature, but after glancing down at her own legs, she realized it wasn't just that Seren was small—it was also that Kaelen herself was unusually tall.
Seren had to tilt her head slightly just to meet Kaelen's gaze. Despite her height, there was nothing delicate about her. Her handshake had been firm—surprisingly strong—and up close, Kaelen could see the faint definition of muscle beneath the worn fabric of her jumpsuit. Her skin was pale, almost unnaturally so. But what stood out most were her eyes. Now that she was fully awake, Kaelen could see them clearly—golden in color, with narrow, slit-like pupils, much like those of a lizard.
"You're a Demi-Human?" Kaelen asked cautiously.
Seren froze, her golden eyes narrowing as she turned to glare at her.
"Is there a problem with that?" she replied, her tone laced with venom.
"I'm sorry," Kaelen said quickly. "I was just curious. I figured you could already tell I'm human. I just expected—"
Seren cut her off.
"If you truly meant me harm, then why bother waking me up? You could've killed me right then."
Kaelen fell silent. Seren had a point—any other human would have attacked her immediately, especially finding a Demi-Human asleep and defenseless.
Seren spoke again, her tone calmer this time. "To be specific, I'm Saurathian."
Kaelen tilted her head, thinking for a moment before replying, "The race of Dragonoids? Where's the… you know…" She made a vague gesture with her hand, unsure how to phrase it.
Seren exhaled sharply through her nose, half a sigh, half amusement. Then she extended her hand. In the next moment, her small, pale fingers began to shift—the skin rippling as golden scales spread across the surface. Her nails elongated into five razor-sharp claws.
A moment later, the transformation reversed just as smoothly, her hand returning to its pale, human-like form.
"Only the males of our species have permanent features," Seren explained. "The females can only manifest them temporarily."
Kaelen watched the transformation closely, her curiosity evident. After a brief pause, she asked, "I see. Is that why your stature is like this?"
"Hey!" Seren shot back, her tone sharp but playful. "For your information, I'm the average height for my age. Not everyone can be a tree like you."
Kaelen couldn't help but chuckle at that. The tension between them eased slightly, the faintest trace of humor breaking through the grim atmosphere.
After a moment, she spoke again, her tone softening. "Do you remember how you got here? And how long have you been here?"
Seren sighed and sat back down, rummaging through the few belongings she carried. "I died," she said flatly. "I was imprisoned for a few years and tried to escape with some other inmates. It didn't go well. I woke up just south of here earlier today."
"Lukros's Supermax Prison?" Kaelen asked.
Seren's head snapped up. "How do you know that?"
In answer, Kaelen unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the same white prison jumpsuit beneath.
Seren paused, eyeing Kaelen with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "A human locked up in a Demi-Human maximum-security prison? The hell did you do to end up there?"
Kaelen opened her mouth to answer, but stopped as the sky darkened above them. The clouds were thickening again—heavy, suffocating, swallowing what little light remained.
"It's a long story," Kaelen said quietly, her tone shifting to one of dread. "But we should discuss that later. For now, we need to hurry up and decide shifts for guard watch. Since you already slept, I figured it's fair if I take the first one. We need to keep an eye on that thing at all times."
"That thing?" Seren asked, brow furrowing.
Kaelen didn't have to answer—because the world did it for her.
The same rhythmic clicking began again, distant but unmistakable, echoing from the edge of town. Both women froze, their attention snapping toward the sound.
"That thing," Kaelen said at last, her voice grim.
Seren's eyes widened, her scales briefly flickering along her neck in instinctive alarm. "Kaelen, when I asked to be your tower buddy, I did not sign up for horrific centipedes made of human body parts!"
Kaelen turned to her, surprised. "Wait—you can see it from here? How? It's pitch black—I can't see a damn thing."
"Another trait of my race," Seren replied, her tone a mix of pride and unease. "We can see in the dark better than most. You don't seem to know a lot about us, do you?"
Kaelen looked away, her expression tightening with frustration. "No. I don't."
She didn't need to explain further. The truth was obvious. Lukros had always been prejudiced—cruel even—toward Demi-Humans. But their hatred hadn't come solely from malice. It was born from ignorance—a deep, festering fear of what they couldn't understand. And a human driven by fear of the unknown was often the most dangerous kind to be around.
Kaelen lay down on the pile of wool blankets to rest while Seren took the first watch, keeping her eyes fixed on the centipede creature below. Its behavior was much the same as the night before—feasting on the fleshy, fungal growth clinging to the ground and occasionally crashing through nearby houses as it scavenged. With each passing hour, less and less of the growth remained at the base of the bell tower, stripped away by the monster's relentless hunger.
It wasn't until their third shift change that the centipede's behavior took a grotesque turn.
Kaelen was awake this time, standing guard while Seren slept as peacefully as ever—drool streaking down the side of her face.
'I seriously don't understand how she manages to sleep that well,' Kaelen thought with a hint of envy. She hadn't had a real night's rest in over three years—not in the living world, and certainly not in this hellish one.
Below, the centipede continued its usual routine, tearing chunks from the fungal mass and devouring them with its many mouths. Then, without warning, it stopped.
The creature began to convulse violently, its grotesque body of human limbs and torsos thrashing in every direction. The mass of fused heads that formed its own twisted face moved as one—each mouth gaping, each expression mirroring the same unbearable agony.
And then—it screamed.
A sound so piercing and inhuman tore through the air that it seemed to shake the world itself—a chorus of countless voices screaming in agony and rage. The sheer force of it made Kaelen clap her hands over her ears, wincing as blood began to trickle from her nose. Seren, jolted awake by the unearthly shriek, clutched her own head in pain as the same crimson streak ran down her face.
Kaelen struggled to steady herself, her heartbeat pounding against her ribs. When the scream finally subsided, she forced herself to look over the edge of the tower once more—and what she saw froze her blood.
The centipede was tearing itself apart.
Its claws dug viciously into its own midsection, raking through the mass of flesh and bone that formed its grotesque body. It pulled in opposite directions, ripping itself open with brutal, unstoppable strength until it split completely in two. A flood of thick, black liquid spilled across the ground, steaming and hissing as it pooled. From the center of each twitching half, something emerged—a smooth, black orb, pulsing faintly with an eerie light.
"What the hell just happened!?" Seren shouted, panic breaking through her voice.
"It just… tore itself in half! Look!" Kaelen yelled back, pointing toward the centipede's twitching, motionless remains at the base of the tower.
However, it did not remain motionless for long. Both women watched as each half began to convulse, at first with faint, sluggish movements, then with violent, frenzied spasms. The torn ends of the creature's body started to swell grotesquely, stretching and bubbling like overfilled flesh. From within, countless human limbs burst outward—hands, arms, and faces clawing and tearing their way free from the dark, pulsing mass.
Kaelen and Seren could only stare in mute horror as the scene unfolded. The sound of wet tearing flesh and snapping bone filled the air, echoing through the ruins like a twisted symphony of agony. The two halves writhed and reformed, reshaping themselves until, at last, the process was complete.
Where there had once been one abomination, now stood two. The centipede had undergone mitosis.
The abominations soon returned to their grisly routine—feasting, and rummaging through the ruined homes as if nothing had happened.
Kaelen and Seren sat in silence, still frozen by what they had just witnessed. Neither spoke. Neither could. The image replayed endlessly in their minds—the twisting flesh, the sound of ripping bodies, the impossible act of division. And now there were two of them. Two monsters crawling through the dark. The thought alone was suffocating.
Seren was the first to break the silence. "Kaelen… we're hallucinating, right? Please tell me we are."
"No… no, we're not," Kaelen said quietly, her voice hollow.
"…What do we do?" Seren asked, her tone cautious, almost childlike.
Kaelen didn't answer right away. Her mind was running through every possibility she could think of, but there weren't many. Earlier that day, she had already realized she was trapped in a situation where every option led to death. And now, with two of those things roaming below, her odds had shrunk even further.
Still, she wasn't entirely alone anymore. That counted for something—if only barely.
"Well…" Kaelen finally said, exhaling through her nose. "We could leave. There aren't many landmarks nearby—just the kingdom to the north—but that's at least a week's travel, maybe more. We'd have to move at night, take our chances, and pray we don't get torn apart by whatever else lurks out there."
She paused, glancing over the edge of the tower where the two monstrosities still fed.
"Staying here won't save us either," she added grimly. "It's only a matter of time before they find us."
Seren grew quiet for a moment, her eyes fixed on the centipede creatures. "We should talk more in the morning. I'll take over," she said at last.
Kaelen nodded and lay back down, but sleep never came. After what they had seen tonight, she feared to sleep knowing what was just beneath her.
By morning, like clockwork, the centipedes dissolved once more into a thick red mist, leaving behind only the torn remnants of their feeding grounds. Seren finally sat down, exhaustion evident in her posture.
"How did you sleep?" she asked, watching Kaelen push herself upright.
"I didn't," Kaelen replied flatly. "Hearing two of those monsters crawling around all night made that impossible."
Seren frowned, brushing dust from her pants before standing. "So… now what?"
Kaelen took a deep breath, steadying herself. "We only really have one option left. We take the gamble and head for the kingdom. We'll have to hope it's not worse than this place. But before we go, there's one last thing I want to check—the church to the east. Now that you're here, I want to look into it one more time."
"Why me?" Seren asked, raising an eyebrow.
Kaelen gestured toward her hands. "Because your claws are far sharper than any flimsy old knife out here. The church is completely overrun with fungal growth, and I need you to help me clear it out. Last time I was there, I spent minutes sawing through the stuff just to free a few old manuscripts."
Seren shivered at the idea. "You want me to use my beautiful hands to tear through that nasty stuff? You're gonna have to pay me for that. Are you even sure that stuff is safe to touch?"
"If a hundred-year-old kitchen knife can saw through it without breaking, your claws should be fine. And pay you? Even if I had money, where would you even spend it here?" Kaelen shot back.
Seren sighed. "Fine. But you definitely owe me one for this."
Both now in agreement, they set their sights on the church to the east. The journey was grueling—each step through the thick, blood-soaked mud felt heavier than the last. Seren's smaller stature made it difficult for her to pull herself free whenever she sank too deep, forcing Kaelen to stop several times and help her out. After nearly four exhausting hours, they finally reached the church.
Upon arrival, they entered through the familiar, fungus-choked doorway. The unsettling interior remained unchanged—the same decayed pews, the same unnatural stillness pressing against the walls.
Seren's gaze wandered upward to the stained-glass windows, her unease clear in her voice. "You sure you didn't bring me here to use me as a sacrifice?"
Kaelen smirked faintly. "Yes, Seren, I definitely dragged you all the way out here just to sacrifice you to some random king I've never even seen before. Now, come on—let's start digging."
Seren groaned but reluctantly manifested her claws. To Kaelen's surprise, she sliced through the fungal growth far easier than expected—the golden claws cut through the dense flesh-like matter with precision, nearly as sharp as the centipede's own blades, though far smaller.
Most of what they uncovered matched what Kaelen had found during her first visit: decayed manuscripts written in that same indecipherable script. That was, until they reached what appeared to be the podium.
Kaelen recognized it only by its placement in the room—otherwise, it was completely encased in thick layers of congealed flesh. As Seren tore through it, chunks of the material fell away to reveal dark wood beneath, its texture rough and splintered, like the bark of the dead trees outside.
Resting atop the podium was a single book—a journal of some kind. Kaelen brushed away the remaining residue and carefully opened it.
Her eyes widened almost immediately.
Unlike the other texts, these pages weren't written in that alien script carved into the bells or scrawled across the walls.
They were written in English.