The hours blurred together as Ren bounced from game to game, losing himself in the noise and flashing lights of the arcade. It was easier this way—letting the glow of the screens swallow him whole, letting the sounds of explosions and victory jingles drown out the gnawing unease in his gut.
When he finally stepped outside, the sun had set, and the chill of the evening bit at his skin. The streets were quieter now, bathed in the flickering glow of streetlights. Shadows stretched long and thin, distorting familiar shapes into something more sinister. The hum of distant traffic filled the air, yet the world around him felt eerily still.
Ren shoved his hands into his pockets, his breath visible in the cool night as he wandered aimlessly through town. He wasn't ready to go home—not yet. But eventually, his feet carried him there anyway, as though drawn by some invisible thread.
The sight of his front door, once so familiar, now felt… wrong. The house loomed in the darkness, windows black and empty. There was no glow from the living room TV, no kitchen light spilling warmth into the hallway. Just silence. A deep, pressing silence that coiled around his ribs like a vice.
Ren's stomach tightened. His fingers hovered over the doorknob, then slowly turned it.
Click.
The door creaked open, the hinges groaning too loudly in the stillness. He stepped inside, the scent of old wood and dust immediately hitting him—but underneath, something else. Something acrid. Faint. Wrong.
His pulse quickened.
"...Why is it so dark?"
He flipped the switch by the door.
Nothing.
He tried another. Another.
Still nothing.
"What the... fuck?" The words slipped out, barely above a whisper.
The air felt heavy, oppressive—as if the house itself had been holding its breath. Every step forward was a fight against something unseen. His chest tightened with every heartbeat.
"Mom? Dad?"
Silence.
He moved further into the hallway, eyes adjusting to the faint sliver of moonlight bleeding through a cracked window. The walls were gouged. Furniture lay overturned. A shattered photo frame crunched under his foot.
He tripped over something.
He didn't look down.
The smell hit him next—metallic and foul, like rust and rot mixed with something sickly sweet. His gut twisted.
"Mom! Dad!"
Still no answer.
At the end of the hall, the door to his parents' room was… gone. Not open. Gone. Just a massive, splintered hole where the door used to be, jagged wood jutting out like teeth.
He took one shaky step forward. Then another.
What he saw inside would never leave him.
The carpet was soaked in blood. A wide, glistening pool that glimmered darkly in the moonlight. Viscera—torn remains—littered the floor like a slaughterhouse. Among them, half-submerged in the gore, was a head.
His father's.
Ren froze, breath catching mid-gasp.
"No. No, this isn't real. It can't be."
His knees gave out, dropping him to the ground as a strangled sound clawed its way up his throat. His body trembled, cold sweat pouring down his spine. Every instinct screamed at him to run. But he couldn't move.
And then… he saw her.
His mother.
She lay broken on the floor, eyes wide with agony, blood smeared across her face. Her mouth worked like she was trying to scream, but only choked sobs came out.
She was being devoured.
The creature looming over her was a nightmare come alive—its skin pale and translucent, stretched too tightly over its frame like wet paper. Veins pulsed beneath the surface, dark and swollen. Its hollow eyes leaked a thick, dark fluid, staining its sunken cheeks. It made a wet, gurgling sound, like something drowning in its own breath.
Then, it turned.
"R...Ren..." It hissed, the sound distorted—like static under water.
His mother's bloodied hand reached toward him.
"Run, Ren…" she gasped, tears mixing with blood as the creature wrapped its skeletal fingers around her again.
Ren's body finally obeyed.
He bolted, stumbling backward so fast he nearly fell over himself. His vision blurred with panic. The hallway was a distorted tunnel of shadows and broken shapes as he sprinted, his lungs burning.
He crashed into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him, locking it with shaking hands.
"Think. Think! I need something—anything!"
His eyes darted around the room. There.
The shinai—his old wooden kendo sword—resting on the wall.
He lunged for it.
But before his fingers touched the grip—
CRACK.
The door exploded inward in a shower of splinters, a monstrous force slamming into Ren and sending him flying. He crashed into the far wall, the wind knocked from his lungs, his skull ringing from the impact.
Pain bloomed through his back like fire. He gagged on the coppery taste of blood.
Through blurred vision, he saw it.
The creature stood in the doorway, water pooling at its feet, dripping from its grotesque form. The room reeked of death and rot.
"Ren..."
Its voice curled around his name like smoke, thick and wet and ancient.
He crawled, vision spinning, fingers scrambling over the floor until they closed around the shinai.
His body screamed in pain as he forced himself up.
He was shaking. Bleeding. Outmatched.
But his grip tightened.
"I have to fight." He swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
"Even if I'm going to lose."
Just then, his heart pounded again—hard. Wadump. The same soft, almost seductive female voice whispered in his ear, calm and gentle despite the chaos: "Dodge Ren!"
The creature's hollow gaze darkened, its empty eyes narrowing with sudden malice as it took another slow, dragging step forward. Ren barely had time to react before an invisible force hurled him against the wall, splintering the wooden beams as he crashed through them and landed on the street below. Pain radiated through his body, a sharp ache flaring along his spine, but he forced himself to stand, clutching the katana.
Ren landed hard, pain searing through his body as blood gushed from a deep gash on his face. He crawled to his katana, fingers shaking as they wrapped around the hilt. He staggered to his feet, his body aching and trembling with fear.
"No… this isn't real. This isn't happening." His thoughts tumbled over each other, desperate to deny the reality before him. But the weight of the sword in his hands was real. The sting of the wound on his face was real. The overwhelming stench of blood and decay—so real it burned in his nostrils.
The words from before struck him like a lightning bolt, igniting a rage that roared through his veins. His eyes narrowed, his grip tightening around the katana as he unsheathed it. But then—
"Mom. Dad."
Images flashed in his mind. His mother's warm smile. His father's hand ruffling his hair. The soft hum of their voices, the warmth of home, the quiet laughter over dinner. And now—
"Gone. They're gone. Because of this thing."
Rage crashed over him like a wave, violent and consuming, but beneath it, something else clawed at him—grief. A raw, unbearable ache that twisted in his chest like a knife.
"I… I can't let it end like this."
His legs shook beneath him, his body barely able to stand, yet he screamed—a raw, primal sound that echoed through the empty street.
For a brief moment, Ren thought he could win.
With a roar, he lunged at the monster, katana raised high. But before he could land a blow, the monster used its attack again, and the air seemed to bend around him, flinging him across the yard like a ragdoll. He crashed into the ground again, pain exploding through his body.
The creature's grotesque mouth twisted into a malevolent grin as it prepared to strike once more.
Suddenly, a cacophony of gasps erupted from the nearby houses as terrified neighbors peeked through curtains and cracked doors. A porch light flickered on, casting shaky illumination onto the street. Someone cursed under their breath. A hushed voice murmured, "What the hell is that…?"
A woman clutched her child close, stepping back into the shadows. Another neighbor fumbled for their phone, hands trembling too much to dial. No one moved beyond their doorsteps—frozen between fear and disbelief.
The monster, sensing its growing audience, turned its hollow eyes toward them, gleaming with malicious intent. A sharp inhale rippled through the crowd. It slithered forward, slow and deliberate.
It was ready to unleash its wrath.
But before it could strike, a lone figure emerged from the crowd—a girl, calm and poised amid the rising panic. Her pastel-colored eyes shone like beacons in the dark as she stepped forward, her long, flowing hair catching the faint light of the streetlamps.
She raised her hand, her voice soft but powerful as she chanted:
「封印の鎖よ,この邪悪な存在を縛り給え.」
("Chains of sealing, bind this evil presence.")
The words reverberated with a powerful, resonant energy. Four ethereal pillars materialized in the air, slamming down around the creature in a ring. The monster lunged forward but suddenly felt resistance—it glanced down to find its limbs bound tightly by chains, each one anchored to a pillar. The chains seemed to have appeared from nowhere, tightening as they locked the creature in place.
A massive, pot-like structure materialized above it, carved with sacred Japanese symbols, and dropped down, squashing the creature in a single, crushing blow. There was a brief, eerie silence as the dark form dissolved beneath it, leaving only a charred imprint on the ground.
But unknown to anyone, a severed hand from the creature twitched and slid into a nearby drain, slipping down into the sewers. It disappeared into the shadows with a faint ripple in the murky water, vanishing into the city's underbelly, undetected.
Ren watched in stunned silence as the creature dissolved, the weight of what had just happened settling in his chest.
The girl turned toward him, her expression shifting from determination to concern. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice gentle, almost like a balm against the horrors he had just witnessed.
Ren, still trembling, could only shake his head. "I… I don't know," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
In the distance, the murmurs of the crowd began to rise, their concern palpable. The girl glanced around, aware of the attention they had drawn, and as the crowd surged toward them, she suddenly turned and fled into the shadows, disappearing from view.
The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, their voices tinged with confusion and concern.
"Hey, is he hurt?" someone called out.
"Ren, are you okay?" another shouted, stepping closer.
Ren's vision blurred, his body trembling as he staggered forward. "No. No, I can't be here. I can't—". His body trembled violently, his legs unsteady beneath him. The noise, the lights, the people—it was all too much. His chest felt hollow, the weight of everything crushing down on him. His breath hitched, shallow and uneven, his pulse hammering in his ears.
The world tilted.
His knees buckled.
He hit the pavement hard, but the pain barely registered. His limbs felt heavy, his body drained beyond anything he had ever known. There was no strength left to fight, no will to stand.
"Someone get an ambulance!" a woman yelled. "Don't just stand there, call for help!"
The voices were distant now, muffled by the rushing sound in his ears. His breaths came in shallow, frantic bursts as his strength gave out. His head hit the ground, and the chaos around him began to fade.
"So… tired."
Darkness swallowed him whole.