The air around me seemed to thrum with a pulse, a heavy, unrelenting beat that matched the pounding of my heart. I stood in the center of the decaying warehouse, the silence suffocating, yet charged with a strange energy. It was as though the very walls were breathing with me, tightening with every breath I took.
The power surged through me, deeper than before, thrumming in the marrow of my bones, sinking into the very fabric of my being. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, a gnawing hunger that had become a part of me—an insatiable void that demanded to be filled. My hands shook at my sides as I tried to keep myself grounded, but it was no use. It was too much.
The hunger was worse now. It wasn't just a craving for sustenance anymore. It was need. A desperate need to feed, to devour souls and grow stronger. It had taken hold of me in ways I couldn't control, sinking its claws into my mind, bending me to its will.
The warehouse around me seemed to darken further, shadows stretching and pulling, twisting into forms that almost seemed to move when I wasn't looking directly at them. The air was thick with the smell of decay, but there was something else too—something metallic. The unmistakable scent of blood, of life slipping away.
I blinked, trying to clear my mind, but it was hard to think. Hard to focus. All I could feel, all I could think about, was the hunger. It gnawed at my insides, eating away at whatever was left of me. The soul I had consumed only moments before had been intoxicating, like a drug I couldn't quit. And now I wanted more.
I forced myself to turn away from the shadows in the corner. The flickering figures that seemed to move just beyond my vision, too quick to catch, too subtle to confirm. I had to find my way out of this place. I had to get away from the source of this hunger—whatever it was.
I stepped cautiously toward the door, but as I reached for the handle, I froze.
The whisper in my mind came again, soft and insistent, like a breath against the back of my neck.
"You can't escape it."
I turned sharply, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. There was no one there. The warehouse was as empty as it had been before, save for the shadows creeping in from every angle, stretching like hands trying to pull me back.
"Who are you?" I hissed, my voice sounding ragged, as though I had been screaming for hours.
But there was no answer, only the constant pulse in the air, the eerie silence, and the ever-growing pressure in my chest.
The hunger was there, stronger than ever. I could feel it in my stomach, in my veins, in every part of my body. It wanted me to feed. It needed me to feed. And the more I resisted, the more the pressure grew.
My fingers twitched, my eyes scanning the warehouse for any sign of life. Anything. But the only life I could feel was within me—the soul I had consumed. It was still there, flickering weakly beneath the surface, like a dying ember, feeding my every thought, my every desire.
I pushed the door open and stepped outside, the cold night air biting at my skin. The city beyond was a mess of flames and smoke, the night sky thick with the remnants of destruction. There were no lights left, only the flickering glow of fires burning in the distance. The world had been reduced to rubble. The living had been reduced to scattered fragments, scattered whispers in a storm of chaos.
I started walking, my feet dragging through the rubble. I had no real destination—there was nowhere to go. But I couldn't stay here. I couldn't stay in that warehouse, with the shadows closing in on me, whispering things I couldn't quite hear. Things I didn't want to hear.
The hunger pushed me forward. Each step seemed to bring it closer, the pull of souls intensifying. I could see them now—glimpses of them, hanging above the bodies of the dead, flickering like dying stars. They were calling to me.
I could feel their pain, their fear, their memories. And I wanted it. I wanted it all.
But as I walked, something else caught my attention. A figure in the distance, standing at the edge of the street.
At first, I thought it was just another survivor, another lost soul trying to escape the nightmare. But as I drew closer, I could see the truth. The figure wasn't human.
It was… wrong.
The shape before me was distorted, hunched, its body contorted in unnatural angles. Its skin was stretched too thin, its face hollow and misshapen. But its eyes…
Its eyes were bright, glowing with a strange, otherworldly light. They burned into me, pulling me forward like a magnet. And above its head, shimmering faintly, was a soul.
A soul I couldn't resist.
I moved toward it, my body acting of its own accord, my hands reaching out before I could stop them. The soul pulsed in the air, calling to me, begging me to take it. And I wanted to take it. I needed to take it. The hunger screamed within me.
But as my fingers brushed the soul, something happened.
The world tilted, and for a moment, I saw… everything.
The city. The destruction. The fallen gods. The undead. And at the center of it all, something even darker—something pulling the strings, something orchestrating it all.
The name echoed in my mind again, louder now, clearer than ever before.
Alekhan.
The god that had chosen me. The god that had awakened the dead, who had set the world on this path to ruin. The god who had filled my mind with whispers of power, of destruction, of becoming something more than human.
And now, I realized, as my hands trembled over the soul in front of me, that I was feeding him. Every soul I consumed, every ounce of power I took, was feeding into him. I wasn't just devouring souls for my own gain. I was giving them to him.
My vision swam as I felt the weight of it all crash down on me. The hunger surged again, overwhelming me. I wanted to take it. I wanted to consume the soul. But something in me screamed to stop, to resist.
I pulled back, stumbling away from the figure.
But it wasn't finished.
The creature before me twitched, its body jerking as if awakening from a trance. It reached out, its distorted hands closing around my wrist with a strength I hadn't anticipated. The pressure was like iron, and I couldn't break free.
Its glowing eyes bore into mine, and I felt a chill creep down my spine. "You've already chosen," it hissed. "You belong to him now."
I struggled, trying to pull free, but its grip tightened. The hunger inside me was unbearable. It was taking everything I had to keep from tearing into that soul, from succumbing to the power that would finish me, that would finish everything.
"Who are you?" I gasped, the words barely escaping my lips.
The creature's grin was wide, far too wide for any human being. "I am the one who watches. The one who keeps the balance. But you? You are the one who will tip it."
It leaned in closer, its breath hot on my skin. "You are the chosen vessel, the one who will bring the end. You will either save the world or consume it."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart raced, panic flooding my chest. Was this really what I had become? Was I truly the one who would either save or destroy everything?
I looked down at my hands—my bloodstained hands—and for the first time, I was terrified. Terrified of what I had done. Terrified of what I was becoming.
The creature let go of my wrist, but I didn't move. I stood frozen, my body trembling, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
The hunger still clawed at me, but it was more than that. It was power. The kind of power that could shape the world, that could destroy it. I could feel it, the weight of it pressing down on me.
"Choose wisely," the creature murmured, before disappearing into the shadows, leaving me alone in the silence.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at my hands, my thoughts swirling.
I had become a monster. A tool. A vessel for a god I barely understood. And now, I had to decide.
Would I feed the hunger and become the weapon that destroyed the world? Or would I find a way to stop it before it was too late?
The answer wasn't clear. But I knew one thing: there was no turning back now.