In the small coastal town of Gosport lived a modest family — a mother and father who gave everything they had for their children. The father, Bj, worked long days at the docks repairing boats and engines. His wife, Kerry, stayed home to care for their four beautiful children — two boys, two girls — and their loyal Alsatian, Tyrion, or T for short. Bj also had a fifth child from his younger days, but that was a story best left in the past.
That morning had been like any other. The kids went off to school, Bj headed to work, and Kerry spent the day tending to two-year-old Lorenzo. The sea outside shimmered like a mirror for the sky's reflection — calm, blue, and endless.
Then, without warning, the light dimmed. The air grew heavy. A strange energy rippled across the horizon as the sky darkened to near black. A deafening crack of thunder split the silence, followed by lightning so bright it blinded those who looked up. The wind howled — sharp and cold, cutting through the air like blades.
At the docks, Bj wiped the sweat from his brow as the sound of metal clanging and gulls crying filled the air. The scent of saltwater and oil mixed together — the smell of a hard day's work. He was halfway through fixing a boat's cracked hull when a deep rumble rolled across the sky.
"Storm already?" one of his colleagues muttered.
Bj looked up. The ocean's reflection had darkened, the sky now churning like a cauldron. Clouds twisted unnaturally, black swallowing blue. A low hum grew into a deafening roar, and lightning struck the water so close it sent waves crashing over the pier.
"Shut the doors!" yelled Jim, their manager. "Get inside — move!"
They slammed the shed doors shut, the metal rattling against the sudden gale. Everyone stood there in silence, breathing hard, eyes flicking nervously toward one another. Then Wes, one of the shipwrights, frowned.
"Jim?" he whispered.
At the far end of the shed, the manager stood motionless. Behind him, a shadow was growing — not cast by the flickering light, but forming on its own, twisting upward like smoke.
The air turned cold. A sickly darkness spread through the room, seeping into their bones. One man whimpered, unable to contain his himself. Another's knees gave out. Wes stammered, "W–what do we do?"
Bj felt his pulse pounding in his ears. Fear clawed at him, but something deeper — the instinct to survive — took hold. He clenched his fists, voice cutting through the panic.
"Run!"
The word barely left his mouth before Jim's body was flung across the room like a rag doll, crashing into the steel door with a wet crunch. Blood sprayed across the walls. The sound of breaking bone echoed through the air. its shape bent outward like tin foil. The air was heavy — thick with the iron scent of blood and something fouler, older. Then came the sound — deep, ragged breathing.
The men froze. A monstrous shape emerged from the darkness — horns glinting, muscles rippling beneath jet-black fur matted with blood. The creature towered nearly fifteen feet tall, half man, half bull. Its eyes burned with a molten gold fury.
Bj's breath caught. "What the fuck…"
It stepped forward, hoofs cracking the concrete floor, a golden ring gleaming through its snout.
"Minotaur," Wes whispered, his voice trembling.
Bj didn't think — he moved. The beast lunged, its massive arm swinging down like a hammer. Bj dove to the side, sliding beneath the creature's fist and under the nearest boat. The impact behind him shook the ground. Metal screamed.
The Minotaur's punch tore through the wall with a BOOM! That sent debris flying. Half the building collapsed, daylight spilling in through a cloud of dust and smoke.
Bj scrambled to his feet, coughing. He could feel the beast's presence — heavy, suffocating, wrong. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his mind was already with his family. Kerry. The kids.
"Fucking hell…" Wes whispered.
The floor creaked beneath the monster's hooves, each step shaking the tools that hung from the rafters.
Two men ran toward the side door, screaming — the Minotaur swung its arm and swatted them like flies, sending their bodies crashing into a stack of barrels with a wet thud.
Bj's instincts screamed run, but something else — that same old stubborn streak — forced him to move toward it.
He snatched a crowbar from the workbench and shouted, "Hey, pig-face!"
The Minotaur turned, nostrils flaring. The gold ring shimmered again — then it charged.
Bj barely dove aside in time. The beast's shoulder smashed through a support beam, splintering it like kindling. Wood and sparks rained down as it roared in fury.
Bj scrambled under a half-built fishing boat, panting. His pulse thundered in his ears. He could feel the ground trembling as the creature stomped closer.
He whispered to himself, "Shit. Come on, think, think…"
The Minotaur's horns gouged through the side of the hull, missing him by inches. Bj swung the crowbar at its face — it clanged harmlessly off its horn, but the sound enraged the creature. It grabbed the edge of the boat and heaved, flipping the entire thing over like a toy.
Bj rolled free, landing hard, ribs aching. The Minotaur reared back and slammed its fists into the ground, sending a shockwave that cracked the concrete floor.
Bj's vision blurred. He was losing air. He staggered to his feet, spotted a broken chain hanging from the ceiling hoist — an old cargo hook still attached.
An idea.
He limped toward it, the Minotaur closing fast behind. At the last second, he dove, yanking the chain. The heavy hook swung down with a metallic scream — crunch!
The Minotaur roared as the hook tore across its shoulder, leaving a deep gash.
Bj stumbled backward, adrenaline flooding his body. "Yeah! That hurt, didn't it Bitch?" he shouted, his voice breaking.
The Minotaur turned slowly. Its eyes blazed brighter now — golden fire burning with pure hatred.
"Human," it snarled, blood dripping onto the floor. "You die first."Bj heard in his mind.
Bj barely had time to move before it lunged again. Its fist connected with his side — the impact sent him crashing into a stack of metal drums. Pain exploded through his ribs.
He hit the ground gasping, the world spinning. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard something else — a faint hum, deep and rhythmic, echoing inside his skull.
Not sound… thoughts.
Whispers. Voices not his own.
Run… the portal opens… we are free…
Bj clutched his head, trying to block them out. But the whisper grew louder, clearer.
we need to run. Save ourselves.
Bj blinked, confused, panting. The Minotaur raised its arms for a final blow — but then, the air behind it shimmered. A swirl of light, deep purple and blue, forming a perfect circle. The portal pulsed, sucking in air and debris.
The Minotaur hesitated, snorting, its gaze flicking toward it.
Bj seized the moment. He staggered up, grabbed a nearby flare gun from the workbench, and fired. The flare hit the beast square in the chest. It howled, blinded by fire and smoke.
Bj used every ounce of strength he had left — sprinted toward the exit as the building began to collapse. He burst into the open air just as the Minotaur roared, its bellow mixing with the crackle of the portal.
Then — a flash.
The shed exploded behind him, a wave of dust and light chasing him across the docks.
When he looked back, panting, the portal was gone. The shed, the beast — everything — had vanished, leaving only a crater of scorched earth and twisted metal.
Bj fell to his knees, clutching his side, his ears ringing. He didn't know how or why he was still alive — only that he had to get home.`
"Kerry… the kids…" he gasped.
And so he ran — the docks burning behind him, the taste of smoke thick on his tongue, unaware that the age of myths had already begun.