Author's Note

This chapter was meant to be a part of chapter 3 but I split it in half due to it being too long.

Chapter 4 - A Bite of Splinter.

Chapter 4.

“True Protectiveness means being willing to stand up for someone even when it’s hard.”

I made my way across the second-floor hallway, my steps echoing slightly in the eerie silence that seemed to blanket the entire block. It was unsettling, this quiet. Not a single sound from behind the closed doors, no TV noise, no arguing voices—nothing. The stillness was palpable, pressing down on me with an almost physical weight.

With a deep breath to steel my nerves, I approached my neighbour. I knocked, first softly, then with more insistence. No answer. I waited a beat, my ears straining for any sign of life, but there was only the sound of my own breathing and the faint rustle of my clothes. Moving on to the next door, I repeated the process, knocking and listening. Again, nothing.

I continued knocking on each door along the second-floor hallway, frustration mounting with each unanswered attempt. The silence was unnerving, each empty apartment adding weight to the oppressive stillness. As I stood in front of the fifth door, a thought struck me. I needed to be sure, and waiting for someone to answer clearly wasn’t getting me anywhere.

Turning on my heel, I headed back to my apartment. Inside, I went straight to the Liverpool poster on the wall. I stared at it for a moment, memories flooding back. Behind that poster was my little secret—a hidden slot where I kept my pick-locking equipment. I’d used those tools more times than I cared to admit. Times when survival meant sneaking into places and taking what I needed just to get by.

I peeled back the poster, revealing the small metal case tucked away in the wall. My fingers brushed over the worn edges of the case, a sense of grim familiarity settling over me. How many times had I relied on these tools to put food on the table or to get us through another week? Too many to count. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but in a world where trust was a luxury, sometimes you had to take matters into your own hands.

Grabbing the tools, I returned to the hallway. Inserting the pick into the lock of the first door, I worked with practiced ease, the tumblers clicking into place almost reassuringly. The door swung open with a soft creak, and I stepped inside, my senses heightened.

The first room was dim, the curtains drawn tight against the morning light. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cigarettes, a sour stench that made me wrinkle my nose. The place was a mess, with pizza boxes and empty bottles littering the floor. It looked like a bachelor pad, cluttered but organized in its own chaotic way. I rummaged through the kitchen, picking up cans of beans, packets of noodles, and a few bottles of water. In the bathroom, I found a first aid kit and some toiletries. The bedroom yielded a stash of cigarettes and a lighter. I pocketed those, thinking they might come in handy for bartering if nothing else.

Room by room, I repeated the process, each empty apartment adding to the surreal nature of our situation. The second room I entered had a more sinister feel, with graffiti on the walls and a broken lamp on the floor. The place was clearly a drug den, the smell of weed still lingering in the air. I found a few packets of instant noodles, some cans of soup, and a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. In the bathroom, I discovered some painkillers and a few toiletries. The bedroom was bare except for a dirty mattress on the floor and a small bag of drugs hidden under it. I took the drugs, thinking they might be useful for trading.

The third room was even worse. It looked like it had been abandoned in a hurry, with clothes and personal belongings strewn everywhere. The smell of mold was overwhelming, making me gag. I found some canned goods in the kitchen, along with a few bottles of water. The bathroom had a broken mirror and a few more toiletries. In the living room, I discovered an old Xbox, which I decided to take for Nathan. He'd been through enough, and a bit of distraction would do him good.

The fourth room was a bit of a relief. It was a family home, with toys scattered around and family photos on the walls. I felt a pang of guilt as I went through their things, but survival was survival. I found a well-stocked pantry, full of canned goods and dry food. There was also a small medical kit in the bathroom. In one of the bedrooms, I found a stash of books and some children's toys. I took a few for Nathan, thinking they'd help keep him occupied.

The fifth room was the neatest of them all, almost as if the occupant was a bit of a neat freak. Everything was in its place, and there wasn't a speck of dust to be found. The air was stale but clean, the scent of disinfectant lingering. I found a couple of knives in the kitchen, which I took for self-defense. There was also a stash of cash and some more bottles of water. The bathroom had a wide array of toiletries, including some high-quality shampoo and conditioner that I knew Gaby would appreciate. In the living room, I found a few more bottles of alcohol, which I decided to take for potential trade value.

As I carted the supplies back to our apartment, a part of me felt like a burglar, pillaging through the remnants of absent lives. Yet, another part felt oddly justified. This was about survival, and in a world where the rules had been turned upside down, survival meant taking opportunities where you found them.

The apartment quickly filled with the spoils of my impromptu scavenging. With each item I stashed away, a piece of the ever-present anxiety that gnawed at my insides faded. This was good—really good. We had enough supplies to last us a while, and I had only gone through five dorm rooms.

Despite the unsettling start to our morning and the bizarre reality of our situation, a new confidence began to settle in. We could make it here, I thought. We could actually survive this. As I looked around at the stockpile of goods, a small, determined smile crept across my face. Whatever this new world held, we were going to face it head-on. And we were going to survive.

Picking the lock into Jordan’s apartment didn’t exactly fill me with excitement. If anything, it steeled me for whatever sordid sights lay beyond that door. The moment it clicked open, a wave of repugnant odors assaulted my senses—a pungent cocktail of booze, vomit, sex, and a general lack of hygiene that made my stomach churn. I should've known; Jordan's parties were infamous, the kind I'd never attend, not in a million years.

As I stepped inside, the scene before me confirmed my worst suspicions. The living room was a disgrace, with men’s and women’s clothing tossed all over, a stark testament to the debauchery that had occurred. The air was thick, the residue of sex practically tangible. I covered my nose, trying not to think about the bodies that had been entwined in various acts on these very surfaces.

Ignoring the limp condoms scattered around like the worst kind of confetti, I started rummaging through everything. Jordan’s penchant for hiding things was almost as well-known as his other habits. I flipped mattresses and overturned furniture with a singular focus—find anything of use.

Amid the chaos, a thin, leathery black book caught my eye. Labeled ‘Journal’, it seemed oddly personal for someone like Jordan. Curiosity piqued, I flipped it open, landing on a random page in the middle. The entry caught my eye immediately, a vulgar rant about meeting his big brother after years. It read:

Finally gonna see the big bro after all these fuckin’ years. Wonder if the bastard’s bulked up or gone soft. Either way, can’t wait to see if he still thinks he can boss me around. Fuckin’ prick always had a stick up his arse about bein' the oldest. This time, though, I’m ready. Got a few surprises up my sleeve, just in case he tries any of his old bullshit

And after this, gotta start planning my next move. Been laying low too long, itching to see what shit I can stir up next in this godforsaken town. Cops been breathin' down my neck ever since that last job, but they ain't got shit on me. Time to lay the groundwork for something big. Maybe hit that new club downtown, or scope out the rich pricks in the burbs. Could use a nice score to get the blood pumpin' again.

Speaking of which, I need to get back into the game. My knife’s been feeling too clean lately. Maybe rough up some of those lowlifes hangin' around the park, show them who's boss. Or better yet, find out who's been messing with our turf. No one fucks with what’s ours without payin' the price. Got a new blade I’ve been itching to try out—sliced right through the mattress to keep it close. Feels good to have a bit of steel in hand again.

It was all so typical of Jordan—always scheming, always restless, and perpetually violent. The bravado in his words was almost laughable if it weren’t so dangerous. I shrugged and stuffed the journal into my duffle bag, dismissing it as the ramblings of a man too caught up in his own machismo.

After rummaging through the mess of clothes and debris on the living room floor of Jordan’s apartment, my search for valuables led me deeper into the chaos. The air was stale with the scent of last night’s indiscretions, and every corner seemed to hide another piece of Jordan’s disreputable life. As I flipped another mattress, looking for anything that could be of use, my hand brushed against something unexpectedly smooth and crisp tucked beneath it.

It was an envelope, old and yellowing, but sealed tightly. Intrigued, I tore it open to find a sheet of paper covered in strange symbols—runes, perhaps, that twirled and twisted around the page in an elegant dance. They were like nothing I had ever seen, etched with an ink that shimmered slightly when the light hit it just right. Below the mysterious symbols, a handwritten note caught my eye, its message clear and unsettling:

Mia, I’m sorry I had to do this. -D

The signature ‘D’ could only belong to one person—Discord. That damn dog had played his cards right under our noses. A wave of frustration washed over me as I realized this must be part of whatever twisted game he was dragging us into. The runes were probably magical, knowing him, meant to either protect us or guide us in this bizarre new world he’d dumped us into.

I tucked the note and its cryptic symbols into my duffle bag, a sense of urgency building within me. If Discord believed these were important, then ignoring them could be more dangerous than trying to decipher their meaning. As much as I despised being part of his manipulations, I couldn’t afford to turn away any potential help—not when our survival might depend on it.

My search continued, and given Jordan's lifestyle, it wasn't surprising when I found a stash of cash hidden under the floorboards and a collection of blades tucked inside a sliced mattress pocket. But nothing prepared me for the next find—a pistol perfectly concealed within a hollowed-out book. The gun was black, compact enough to fit in my hand, with a magazine inserted and another one lying next to it, fully loaded. A small red box nearby held additional ammunition.

Handling a firearm in the UK was no trivial matter. With strict gun control laws, possessing a firearm illegally could lead to serious jail time, something even Jordan should've been wary of. The discovery of the gun was a stark reminder of just how deep into the criminal underworld Jordan was involved.

I hesitated for a moment, considering the implications of taking the gun. But practicality won over caution—I zipped the book with the gun back into my bag. Who knew what we might need to defend ourselves against in this new, unpredictable environment?

I closed the apartment door behind me as I left, a mix of disgust and satisfaction churning inside me. This haul would certainly help us survive, but at what cost? As I headed back to our own apartment, the weight of the duffle bag on my shoulder felt like a tangible reminder of the dangerous game we were all unwilling players in.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Nathan sat on the grassy field, his small fingers weaving delicate flower stems together to form necklaces. It was something Mia had taught him—a simple, calming craft that always made him feel close to her. The scent of fresh grass and wildflowers filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of insects. Nearby, Gaby lay on the grass with her eyes closed and hands behind her head, a chilled song playing softly from her phone. The melody blended perfectly with the sounds of nature, creating a peaceful ambiance that felt almost surreal after the chaos of recent events.

The sky was a bright blue, the sun casting warm rays that danced over the field. Nathan paused for a moment, holding a flower with vibrant red petals. The colour was striking against the green of the grass, but it stirred something unsettling within him. The red reminded him of the blood he had seen the other night—blood on Mia, blood on the bad man she had hurt. The memory was fresh and raw, and he didn't know how to process it. Mia had always been his big sister, always smiling and protecting him. But that night, she had been terrifying.

Nathan glanced at Gaby, who looked so relaxed and carefree. Her chest rose and fell with each slow, steady breath, and the gentle breeze ruffled her hair. He wondered if he could ask her about what was troubling him. Gathering his courage, he spoke up, his voice small and hesitant.

"Gaby?" he asked, looking at her with wide, innocent eyes.

Gaby opened her eyes and turned her head toward him, a gentle smile spreading across her face. "Yeah, Nate? What's up?"

"Can I ask you something?" he said, shifting a little closer to her, his fingers nervously twirling the flower stem.

"Of course, kiddo," Gaby replied, propping herself up on her elbows to give him her full attention. Her eyes were soft and warm, filled with concern and affection. "What's on your mind?"

Nathan took a deep breath, his fingers still playing with the flower necklace. "Is it okay to hurt people that hit me?"

Gaby's smile faltered slightly, concern flickering in her eyes. She sat up fully, her brows knitting together. "Why do you ask that, Nate?"

He hesitated, glancing down at the flower in his hands. The petals seemed to blur as his eyes filled with tears. "Last night, a bad man hurt me and Mia... and Mia hurt him back. Really, really badly. It scared me."

Gaby's expression softened, and she reached out to take Nathan's hand in hers. Her touch was warm and reassuring, the gentle motion calming his nerves. "Nathan, Mia loves you more than anything in this world. When you were tiny, she promised to look after you no matter what. Sometimes, that means doing things that might seem scary to protect you."

Nathan looked up at her, trying to understand the depth of her words. "But... is it okay?"

Gaby sighed softly, choosing her words carefully as she gently squeezed his hand. "It's not okay to hurt people for no reason. But if someone is trying to hurt you or someone you love, then sometimes you have to protect yourself. Mia did what she did because she wanted to keep you safe. And I would do the same thing. If anyone tried to hurt you, I'd kick their ass too."

A small smile tugged at Nathan's lips, feeling a bit more reassured by Gaby's words. He nodded, his fingers resuming their work on the flower necklace. He added the red flower to it, letting the vibrant color blend with the others. As he continued his work, the memory of that night still lingered, but it felt a little less heavy now. Gaby's words had given him some comfort, and he knew that no matter what happened, he had people who would always protect him.

Nathan glanced up at Gaby again, who had leaned back on her hands, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sunlight on her face. The moment felt almost magical, a stark contrast to the violence and fear that had filled his life so recently. The soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds provided a serene soundtrack to their quiet afternoon.

He continued weaving the flower necklace, the repetitive motion soothing his troubled mind. The flowers were delicate, their petals soft against his fingertips. He could hear Gaby humming along to the song playing from her phone, her voice blending with the melody in a way that made him feel even more at ease. The grass beneath him was cool and slightly damp, a pleasant contrast to the warmth of the sun on his back.

Nathan finished the necklace, holding it up to admire his work. The red flower stood out vividly among the others, a reminder of the conversation he had just had with Gaby. He glanced at her, seeing her relaxed and at peace, and felt a surge of gratitude. No matter how scary things got, he knew he wasn't alone. He had Mia and Gaby, and they would always be there to protect him.

Nathan held up the flower necklace, his eyes tracing the delicate red petals that now seemed to symbolise something much deeper than just a simple bloom. As he looked at Gaby, lying back on the grass with her eyes closed, he felt a new resolve forming within him. One day, he thought, he would have to be the one to protect Mia, Gaby, and anyone else he cared about. The world was a scary place, and he couldn't always rely on them to keep him safe. He had to be strong, just like Mia was. The memory of her fierce determination to protect him, even if it meant doing something scary, stuck with him. He wanted to be that brave too.

Nathan's small hands clenched around the flower necklace, and he made a silent promise to himself. He would learn to be strong and brave, not just for himself, but for the people he loved. Gaby's words had given him comfort, but they had also given him a sense of responsibility. He didn't want to be a burden on them forever. He wanted to be someone they could depend on, someone who could stand up to the bad people and protect those who couldn't protect themselves. As he looked at the vibrant field around him, the flowers swaying gently in the breeze, Nathan felt a newfound determination blossom within him, much like the flowers he held.

Staring down at the gun in my hand, I felt a strange mix of fascination and unease. Here in my palm was something that I’d only ever seen in the darker corners of films or the pixelated chaos of video games—a real, damn heavy, black-as-the-night pistol. I turned it over, my fingers brushing against the cool, smooth metal of the barrel, the texture starkly different from anything I'd handled before. The weight of it was surprising, grounding; it made the threat of it palpably real.

I examined the weapon closely, trying to figure out how it worked. The mechanics of it were foreign to me. In games, it was just a button press—no thought required. But here, holding it, I realized I was dealing with something powerful and potentially deadly. I fumbled with it, feeling for any switches or buttons that might release the magazine. Eventually, my thumb brushed against something—a release switch. Before I knew it, the magazine disengaged with a loud click that was far too loud in the quiet morning air. It slipped from my grip, clattering down off the balcony and landing on the grass below with a soft thud.

"Bloody hell," I muttered under my breath, my cheeks heating up with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. I’d handled tricky situations before, but this was a new level of clumsy. But beyond the embarrassment, there was a realization—this gun was more than a clumsy mishap. It was power. Raw, unfiltered power. The kind that could protect Nathan and Gaby, or end lives in an instant. But it came with a caveat—ammo. Each bullet was precious, a lifeline in a situation where the rules of survival had changed overnight. I’d have to use it wisely, make every shot count, because there was no telling when or if I could find more.

As I pondered the weight of my new reality, my thoughts were interrupted by a sound that made my blood run cold. A familiar groan echoed up from the stairway, cutting through the morning stillness. My heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be—no, Gaby and Nathan were out in the field, I could still see them from here, a small relief in a sea of chaos.

I spun around, my movements tense, expecting... I didn’t even know what. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me. There he was, Jordan, his shaved head unmistakable, rubbing the back of his neck as he groaned and staggered up the last few steps.

How was he here? How was he even bloody walking? I felt a cold sweat break out across my forehead as the memories of that night flashed before my eyes—his body lifeless, the pool of blood, the relentless sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears as I plunged the knife again and again.

And yet, here he was, looking like he’d just woken up from a rough night, not like someone who should be cold in the ground. What the hell was going on? Was it Discord's magic? Some sick game he was playing at my expense?

The sight of Jordan, alive and seemingly unharmed, sent a shiver down my spine. The rules had changed overnight, and I had no bloody clue what the new ones were. But one thing was clear: I had a powerful weapon now… well, a useless one now but, Jordan wouldn’t know that. And with Nathan and Gaby depending on me, I had to be prepared to use it. Every bullet counted, every shot had to matter. This was no game, and I was going to make sure I played to win.

Mia and Jordan locked eyes, the tension palpable. Jordan’s infamous smirk spread across his face—a look Mia had come to despise. She covertly slipped the empty gun into her back pocket, her movements swift and discreet. Jordan’s casual stride toward her carried an air of arrogance that made Mia’s skin crawl. “What’s with the death glare, Mia? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he joked, his tone light but failing to mask the venom underneath.

Mia exhaled sharply, her patience wearing thin. “Just fuck off, Jordan,” she muttered, her gaze shifting to the open fields beyond the balcony, hoping to avoid further confrontation. But Jordan wasn’t deterred. Infuriated by her dismissal, he stepped closer, his actions crossing a line he knew all too well. He whispered lewd comments as his hand boldly grazed her backside.

This time, Mia’s response was immediate and fierce. She spun around and slapped him hard across the face, the crack of her palm against his skin echoing sharply. Jordan staggered back, his face a mixture of shock and rage. “You fucking bitch,” he spat, his hand instinctively moving to his cheek.

Normally, Mia would retreat, choosing to avoid conflict, especially when Jordan was backed by his cronies. But today was different. They were alone, and the power dynamics had shifted. Mia felt a surge of defiance.

As Jordan’s fists clenched, signalling his intent, Mia didn’t hesitate. She drew the kitchen knife—the very one she’d used in what she believed was his demise. The sight of the blade made Jordan halt, his bravado faltering. “Easy, Mia. Don’t do something you’ll regret,” he cautioned, his voice unsteady.

Mia pressed the tip of the knife against his chest, her expression steely. “Watch your mouth, Jordan,” she hissed, the threat clear in her tone. Despite the danger, a shaky grin lingered on Jordan’s lips, but Mia could see the fear in his eyes. She leaned against the balcony railing, using it for support as she kept one eye on the fields where Nathan played, and the other on Jordan.

Jordan, still reeling from the shock of Mia’s aggression, commented on her mood. “Not a morning person, huh?” But his attempt at humour died quickly as he turned and saw the vast, unfamiliar landscape for the first time. His mouth fell open, his previous cockiness replaced by confusion and awe.

“What the hell is this? Where are we?” he demanded, his frustration mounting. Mia watched him closely, her grip on the knife firm. “I wish I knew, Jordan. But we’re definitely not in Halewood anymore,” she replied, her voice calm despite the swirling chaos of her thoughts.

Jordan began pacing, his movements erratic as he struggled to process their new reality. He banged on the nearby doors, shouting for others to wake up. Mia followed him, trying to intervene. “Jordan, stop. There’s no one else. It’s just us,” she attempted to explain, but he was beyond reason.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jordan snapped, halting his frantic movements to stare at her incredulously.

Mia sighed, lowering her knife slightly as she met his gaze. “I’ve checked, Jordan. Every room. It’s empty. Everyone’s gone—just vanished. All their things are still here, but the people… they’re gone.” Her voice was steady, but the reality of their situation was sinking in, making her heart race.

Jordan’s eyes darted from Mia to the open doorways lining the corridor. “Gone? How? Why are we still here then?” His voice cracked with a mix of fear and confusion.

Mia shrugged, her own uncertainty mirroring his. “I don’t know. But it’s just us now—me, you, and…” She paused, deciding not to mention Nathan and Gaby yet. “That’s it. We need to figure out what’s going on.”

Suddenly, the tranquility was ruptured by a series of deep, eerie howls echoing across the fields, shattering the morning stillness. Mia's heart seized in terror, her blood turning icy as the sound wormed its way into her very bones. Clutching the balcony railing with trembling hands, she strained her eyes against the horizon where the dark figures emerged, slicing through the fog like nightmares come to life.

The sight of those creatures—so swift, so silent, yet screaming danger with every bound towards Nathan and Gabe—sparked a panic in Mia that clawed at her chest with cold fingers. “Christ, not now,” she whispered, a plea to no one, her voice a thread of despair lost on the wind.

With a protective fury building inside her, she leaned forward, her knuckles whitening on the railing. Her throat tightened, a mix of fear and maternal instinct making her stomach churn. She sucked in a sharp breath, preparing to alert Nathan, the words catching in her throat like barbed wire.

"Run, Nathan! For fuck’s sake, run!" Mia screamed, her voice slicing through the morning air, raw and dripping with terror. The urgency in her shout shattered the last vestiges of silence, filling the space with a tangible dread. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the fear that clawed at her insides.

Gaby, catching sight of the dark figures rapidly closing in on them, didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, she scooped up a confused and terrified Nathan, her own fear reflected in his wide eyes. "Hold on tight, Nathan!" she urged, her voice shaky but determined.

She bolted toward the block, her legs pumping furiously as if the very ground beneath her threatened to swallow them whole. Nathan clung to her, his small hands gripping her shirt, his face buried against her shoulder. Gaby's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her mind singularly focused on reaching the safety of the building.

Mia watched from the balcony, every muscle in her body taut with fear and desperation. "Faster, Gaby! Come on!" she shouted, her voice hoarse, willing them to move quicker. The sight of the creatures gaining ground made her feel sick with dread. Her heart hammered in her chest, a relentless drumbeat of panic and helplessness.

The moments stretched, each second feeling like an eternity. Gaby's feet pounded against the ground, the sound mixing with Nathan's frightened whimpers and the distant, haunting howls of the creatures. The block loomed closer, but so did the dark figures, their sinister forms growing more defined with each passing moment.

"Come on, come on," Mia muttered under her breath, her fingers digging into the railing so hard her knuckles turned white. She felt a surge of anger at the situation, at the helplessness she felt. "Fucking hell, just a little more!" she urged, her voice breaking.

Gaby's face was a mask of determination and fear, her eyes fixed on the door ahead. She could feel Nathan trembling in her arms, his fear feeding her own. With a final, desperate burst of speed, she reached the block, slamming into the door with her shoulder, trying to open it.

Mia's heart leaped into her throat as she watched them struggle. "Push the buzzer, Nathan!" she shouted, remembering the lock mechanism. Nathan's small hand fumbled for the button, his movements frantic. With a burst of speed, I ran to my apartment, hearing a buzzing sound that got louder with each step forward. I answered the call with a press of a button, making the buzzing stop and for the entry door open.

Mia's breath caught in her throat, relief flooding her body as she saw them safe inside. But the relief was short-lived. The sound of the creatures scratching and howling outside the door was a stark reminder that the danger was far from over.

I bolted from the balcony, my mind a whirlwind of self-reproach and fear. I berated myself mercilessly as I sprinted down the hallway. "Stupid, so fucking stupid," I muttered under my breath, my footsteps echoing loudly in the empty corridor. The guilt of letting Nathan out of my sight gnawed at me, amplifying the pounding in my chest. I had allowed the serene deception of the open field to lull me into a false sense of security, forgetting that in unfamiliar territories, appearances could be deadly misleading.

Suddenly, a piercing scream cut through the air, halting me in my tracks. It was a gut-wrenching sound, raw and filled with terror. For a horrifying second, my heart stopped—I couldn’t tell if the scream had come from Nathan or Gaby. The ambiguity of the scream only fueled my fear, igniting a frantic urgency in my veins.

Without a second thought, I took the stairs two, three at a time, my hand sliding along the railing for balance. My instincts screamed at me to move faster, each step propelled by the visceral fear of arriving too late. The possibility that Nathan might be injured—or worse—by those nightmarish creatures clawed at my mind, driving me forward with reckless abandon.

As I reached the halfway point, impatience and adrenaline took over. Instead of taking the stairs step by step, I began leaping down them by the dozen, using the stair railing as leverage to launch myself forward. Each landing jarred my knees, sending sharp pains shooting up my legs, but I barely registered the discomfort. My sole focus was on getting to Nathan and Gaby, on being the shield I had always promised to be.

My boots thudded loudly against the concrete steps, the sound reverberating through the otherwise silent building. With each floor I descended, my anxiety twisted tighter, my breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. The echo of my own racing heartbeat thundered in my ears, almost drowning out the distant, continued cries and the menacing growls that now filled the air.

As I neared the ground floor, the reality of what I might find there loomed over me, a shadow as dark as the threat that prowled just beyond the safety of our makeshift stronghold. I prepared myself for the worst, ready to fight, to protect, to do whatever it took. My hand tightened around the knife’s handle, its familiar weight a cold comfort in my shaking hand. My resolve hardened with each step; no matter what awaited me, I would face it head-on, for Nathan, for Gaby, for the fragile semblance of family we had cobbled together in the face of endless chaos.

Reaching the bottom, the pained moans and screams became more prominent, echoing through the hall. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I felt a wave of relief wash over me when I saw Nathan, his small figure huddled by the stairway, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared wide-eyed down the corridor towards the entry. The look of fear on his face broke my heart, but at least he was okay.

My relief was short-lived as my gaze shifted to the source of the commotion. Gaby was locked in a desperate struggle with a monstrous wooden beast, its form resembling a grotesque wolf. More of these wooden horrors clawed and barked at the door and windows, their hollow eyes fixed on the chaos inside. The wolf had its canines buried deep into Gaby’s arm, blood pouring from the wound and soaking her clothes and the floor. The sight made my blood run cold.

Without a second thought, I charged at the wolf, my knife gripped tightly in my hand. I struck at the side of the creature’s ribs, expecting it to yelp or recoil. Instead, the blade merely splintered the wood, leaving the beast unfazed. Panic surged through me as I realised my attack had little effect.

“Fuck,” I muttered, dropping the knife in desperation. I leapt onto the wolf’s back, wrapping my hands around its jaw, trying to pry its mouth open and free Gaby. My muscles strained, and my fingers ached as I pulled with all my strength, but the beast’s jaws remained firmly clamped.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Jordan standing there, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. “Jordan! Help me, you fuck!” I shouted, my voice raw with frustration and fear. He just stood there for a moment, staring at the scene like a deer caught in headlights. Then he called me a crazy bitch and bolted back up the stairs. I growled in frustration, the cowardice of that prick fuelling my anger.

Desperation pushed me to notice something odd—a faint green glow emanating from within the layers of wood in the wolf’s head. Without hesitation, I grabbed the knife again, channeling every ounce of strength and anger into my grip. I slashed at the glowing spot, the blade cutting through the wood with a satisfying crack. The green light flickered and then extinguished, and the wolf crumpled into a heap of lifeless wood.

Gasping for breath, I quickly turned to Gaby, her face pale from pain and blood loss. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling.

She nodded weakly, her free hand clutching her wounded arm. "I’ll manage," she said through gritted teeth, her eyes betraying the pain she was in. I could see the strain in her eyes, the effort it took just to stay upright. The sight of her blood-soaked sleeve made my stomach churn, a stark reminder of how vulnerable we all were in this unknown place.

I hurried over to Nathan, scooping him up into my arms, his small body trembling against mine. "It’s okay, Nate. It’s over," I whispered, trying to reassure him and myself. His little hands clung to me tightly, and I could feel his tears soaking through my shirt. I held him close, rocking him gently, wishing I could shield him from all of this.

As I looked around at the shattered remains of the wooden wolf and the blood-stained floor, I realised how close we had come to disaster. This new world, with its deceptive beauty and hidden dangers, was going to test us in ways we had never imagined. I felt a mix of anger and guilt—anger at myself for letting my guard down and guilt for allowing Nathan and Gaby to be exposed to such danger.

I knew I had to be stronger, for Nathan, for Gaby, and for myself. No more second-guessing, no more letting my guard down. This place was a twisted version of paradise, and we couldn’t afford any more mistakes. I clenched my jaw, a new resolve hardening within me. We would survive this, no matter what it took.

Nathan's sobs began to quiet, but he still clung to me, his grip not loosening. "Mia, what were those things?" he asked, his voice small and scared.

I didn't have an answer for him, not a real one. "I don't know, Nate," I said softly, stroking his hair. "But I promise you, I won't let them hurt you. We'll figure this out, I swear."

Gaby managed a weak smile, though it was clear she was in immense pain. "Always the protector, huh, Mia?" she said, trying to lighten the mood despite the situation.

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. "Someone has to be," I replied, my voice steadying. "Come on, we need to get you cleaned up and find something to stop the bleeding."

Gaby gave a slight nod, her movements sluggish and weary. I gently supported her, guiding her towards the stairs. Nathan stayed close to my side, his hand gripping mine tightly.

We moved slowly, every step feeling like an eternity. My mind raced with thoughts of what we needed to do next—find medical supplies, secure our surroundings, and most importantly, figure out what the hell was happening. But for now, the immediate goal was to ensure Gaby's safety and comfort.

Reaching the apartment, I carefully set Nathan down and instructed him to stay put. I rummaged through the supplies we had gathered earlier, finding a first aid kit that looked promising. I pulled out some bandages and antiseptic, kneeling beside Gaby to tend to her wound.

"Hold still, this might sting," I warned, trying to be as gentle as possible. Gaby winced as I cleaned the bite, her face contorting in pain, but she didn’t make a sound. I admired her strength and resilience, traits that had kept us both going through countless hardships.

As I wrapped the bandage around her arm, my mind continued to race. We had so much to figure out, so much to plan for. But I knew one thing for certain—we were in this together, and we would face whatever came our way, side by side. This place might be unknown and dangerous, but we had each other, and that was something no creature, no matter how monstrous, could take away from us.

~Chapter end~