It all happened so quickly.
I remember the way the sun hung low in the sky that day, casting long shadows across our front yard. It was supposed to be a normal afternoon. My father was working on the old car in the driveway, a greasy smile on his face as he tried to explain the engine's mess to me. I wasn't really paying attention. I never did with the car talk. But I loved listening to him ramble on about it, his passion showing through every word. Mom was inside, probably baking something, as usual. I can still smell the fresh cookies she was always making for us.
I never thought it would be the last time.
I was just a kid, caught in the moment, without a clue about what was coming. We were happy. Safe. I felt untouchable.
But everything changed in the blink of an eye.
At first, it was just a noise. A low rumble, like thunder, but it wasn't the stormy season yet. I turned my head, trying to figure out what it was. Then there was the screeching, the awful sound that scraped through my bones. I ran to the edge of the yard, hoping it was just a car backfiring or some stray animal knocking something over. But then I saw it.
A shadow, massive and impossible. The air seemed to thicken around me, like the world itself was holding its breath. The earth trembled underfoot. And then, I saw the demon.
It wasn't like the ones in the stories. There were no horns or fire-breathing, no wings or grotesque features. It was worse. It was something raw—something primal. Its eyes glowed with an unearthly light, and its massive, clawed hands reached out as if the very act of existence was a threat. I don't even know how to describe the feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was terror, sure, but more than that—it was the certainty that everything I knew was about to be wiped away.
I turned, shouting for my parents. But they didn't hear me. They were already running toward the chaos, their expressions grim.
"Ethan, get inside!" My mother's voice was sharp, commanding, but it didn't hide the fear in it. She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the door.
My father was already there, standing tall between us and the demon. "Run," he said, his voice steady but strained. "Don't stop. No matter what happens, you keep running."
I didn't understand. I was frozen, rooted to the spot. "But Dad—"
"No time!" He shouted, pushing me toward the door. "Go!" His eyes locked with mine, and in that moment, I saw something I'd never seen before—raw desperation. "Now, Ethan!"
It happened so fast. One moment, I was being pulled inside, and the next, I heard the terrifying screech of that creature as it lunged for them.
I barely registered the chaos outside—the sounds of something ripping, crashing. But I couldn't move. I was staring out the window, watching the shadows of my parents' figures blur in the distance, surrounded by smoke and fire. The ground shook again, and I could barely hold back the sobs that threatened to break free.
Then there was silence. The kind of silence that only comes after something irreparably broken.
I ran back outside, my legs shaking so badly that it felt like they would collapse beneath me. My hands trembled as I reached the spot where they were last standing, but there was nothing—just charred earth, the remnants of their fight scattered in the wind.
I searched. Desperately, like I could will them to be there. My heart pounded in my chest. I don't know how long I searched, hours maybe. It felt like an eternity. But I couldn't find them. They were gone.
And I was alone.
It's strange, isn't it? How your world can just crumble in an instant? One second, everything makes sense. You think you understand how things work. And then... in the blink of an eye, nothing is the same.
I collapsed to my knees, the weight of it all crushing down on me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rage at the sky, at the demon, at fate. But I didn't. I couldn't. All I could do was cry. And even that felt like a betrayal. They had died fighting to protect me, and here I was, breaking down in the middle of a ruined yard.
I don't know how long I stayed there. Hours? Days? Time didn't matter. The world didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.
But then, through the pain, something shifted.
I felt it—this strange pull, deep in my chest. It was like a flicker of light in the darkest night. It was a power, something ancient and hidden, something I didn't understand. It wasn't a comforting feeling. It was raw and sharp, like a fire waiting to burn me alive. But it was there. And it was real.
I don't know why it came to me then. Maybe it was a last gift from my parents, or maybe it was something else entirely. But I knew then that I couldn't just sit here and mourn.
I had to fight.
The demon, the one who took everything from me, wasn't finished yet. I could feel it. It wasn't just terror I felt—it was a sense of responsibility. A purpose. The demon wasn't done with this world. It wasn't done with me.
And so, I stood up. Trembling, broken, but standing. I didn't have a plan. I didn't have the strength. But I had the will to keep moving forward. I couldn't bring them back. But I could make sure the world didn't fall into darkness.
The fight wasn't over. Not yet.