The woman was running as fast as her legs could carry her, out of breath. She stopped when she reached the lamppost, clinging to it for support. She doubled over due to exertion, her thin fingers barely clinging to the lamppost being the only reason she hadn’t collapsed to the ground. She took fast, shallow breaths which only filled her lungs with dust and industrial smoke.

“Michel!”

She shouted as loud as her overworked lungs allowed her. A coughing fit shook her body and she shouted once again. She wore a sweater so old that it was impossible to tell its original color. Below, she had a dark skirt, long and frayed at the edges, with a few visible patches. Her head was wrapped in a torn scarf. Her face was smeared with coal dust, yet even the dirt and poverty coating her couldn’t manage to snuff out the bright light in her eyes. If it wasn’t for the black and thick smoke exiting out of every factory blocking out the sky, she could see what color her eyes were by looking up.

The houses, streets, and sidewalks were all shades of gray and black. There wasn't a single tree or bit of greenery in sight. Even the most stubborn and invasive weeds weren’t able to take root here. The windows of the houses were either boarded up or barred with iron. The doors were reinforced and locked. Besides her, no one was outside. The city's color and its entirely stone structure made it feel like a living tomb. Or perhaps, it was already dead. The woman, however, was running as if to defy being buried alive, calling out her child's name.

Her body which was overworked and malnourished couldn’t take the running around while shouting any longer. She was overtaken by another coughing fit. This time, there was nothing nearby to support her. She fell to her knees. When the fit ended, she took deep breaths with difficulty. Her glowing blue eyes were now red-rimmed. Breathing was hard in the city. The tall, dense buildings seemed to block not only the sunlight but also the clean air from reaching the people. The countless factories in the city exhaled their fumes, making the already stifling air unbreathable.

She saw a lamp turning on ahead and realized the sky was nearly dark. It felt as if someone had reached into her chest and was squeezing her heart. There was an indescribable pain in her stomach. Her logical mind screamed at her to return home. But her heart, or rather her maternal instincts, wouldn't rest until she found her child. In her frantic search, she ran into a dead end. She knew very little of the city, familiar only with four or five places as a member of the working class. The thought of being unable to find her way back home even if she found her child flashed through her mind.

She had to hurry. She had to find her child and return back to home. To do that she first needed to get out of this dead end. She was about to turn back when she felt it.

Terror.

She stopped in her tracks, not even daring to breathe. Even though her life was filled with hardships until now, what she was feeling now was the most unpleasant sensation she had ever felt. Something itchy, slimy, and ragged at the same time was inside her body, inside every organ, vein, and cell. She put a hand over her mouth and gagged, nearly releasing what little she had in her stomach. It was a sickening, stomach-churning sensation.

She slowly turned around. Every part of her was screaming at her not to do it, just like the time she had to crawl under a working piece of equipment to retrieve her tools. If she didn’t retrieve them, she knew that her supervisor would cut her pay and beat her. Stopping the machine was out of the question since it would lessen the work being done. So she had crawled under the rusted press shuddering violently and paid dearly for it with her two fingers.

What about now? What would she lose?

The things in front of her were partly humanoid in appearance, at least in their rough body plan. But they were on all fours, wearing nothing resembling clothes. There wasn't a hair on their smooth skin, and their entire bodies were a sickly white. Their heads were shaped like beetroots, with numerous independent, writhing tendrils atop them. They had no noses or eyelids, and their eyes were bloodshot as if they hadn't slept in ages. There were three of them. The one in the middle was the largest, dwarfing the other two. The ones beside it, though smaller in comparison, were still bigger than an average human. They were growling, but it sounded more like the rasping of an old, sorrowful man fighting for his last breaths than an animal's snarl. Though they were about five meters away, she could smell their breath. If she had handled meat once in her life she could have thought it smelled like raw meat. The large creature slithered slowly toward her. The smaller ones bowed their heads, as if the largest had the right to eat first, or perhaps it was a gesture akin to how animals in the wild treat the opposite sex.

As the creature extended its claw toward her, she collapsed to the ground in fear and hopelessness, her knees hitting the ground with enough force to draw blood. Yet even the searing pain and the warm blood starting to coat her skirt occupied her mind.

Death.

Her lips quivered and tears rolled down her cheeks. She was going to die. But then, something miraculous happened. Something, or rather someone, fell from above. The creatures retreated, arching their backs and hissing like cats. The man was tall, nearly two meters. He wore a coat that reached the ground and a turtleneck sweater. The front of the coat was open, and a dog emblem with bared teeth was visible on the left side of the sweater and the left shoulder of the coat. He was dressed entirely in black and carried a massive sword on his back. The sword was so large it seemed absurd to call it a sword, more like a shaped but crude mass of black metal. There was no guard between the hilt and the blade. It would have been challenging for an ordinary person to lift it, let alone use it effectively in combat.

Black Dog.

She knew that emblem. She knew that sword. She has seen it when she went to the factory where her husband worked before his injury. She has seen 5 men struggle to carry it around. The largest creature swiped its right claw at the man in a wide arc. The man rolled toward the creature, seemingly unaffected by the sword's size and weight. He drew the sword with a speed that was hard for the human eye to follow and brought it down with all his might on the creature's neck. The creature's head fell to the ground like a toy thrown by a child, and its body crumpled like a puppet with cut strings. The other two emitted a high-pitched, baby-like wail. The woman covered her ears, grimacing. The man on the other hand was unfazed, his face cold and emotionless.

The creature on the man's right side approached first. It moved its impressive bulk with uncanny ease, lunging towards the man. He made a half-turn. His black hair and sword swung with him. The sword sliced the creature in half, splattering green liquid everywhere. The woman steeled herself for the loud clang the sword would make when it would hit the ground as it was nigh-impossible to control something that heavy when it started to move.

Yet, it never came. The man controlled his sword before it could slam to the ground. He put the sword on his shoulder and slowly turned his head to the remaining creature. The remaining creature hesitated, its bloodshot eyes flickering with a mix of fear and anger. For a second, the woman thought that the creature resembled a human. It was afraid of dying against a being it couldn’t hope to win against, just like herself less than a minute ago. Yet unlike her, it was ready to use violence.

It lowered its body, muscles coiling as if ready to spring, but the man’s cold, unblinking stare seemed to hold it in place. The woman, still on the ground, felt a glimmer of hope amidst her terror. The creature snarled, its tendrils writhing in agitation. For a moment, it looked as if it might attack, but then it sprang on one of the buildings, somehow clinging to the walls like a bug. The man chased after the hopping creature wordlessly, leaving the woman alone.

She gasped for air. She has forgotten to breathe. She looked at her hands. They were shaking like a leaf under the autumn wind. She stood up, pushing herself with her hands. Her knees shook as badly as her hands. She nearly fell but she was able to catch herself at the last second.

She was alive. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest, throat, and temple.

She survived an encounter with monsters.

She never felt this alive until now.

The woman took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She glanced in the direction the man had gone, not hearing any sounds. Whatever sounds the fight between the man and the creature made, if it made any were absorbed by the stone city. She couldn’t afford to wait here, not with her child still missing. Mustering every ounce of strength left in her, she started to move, her legs trembling but determined.

The streets were eerily quiet as she pressed on, calling out for Michel whenever she dared. The oppressive silence was broken only by the occasional distant clatter of machinery or the faint hum of electricity from the factories. Her voice echoed back at her, a haunting reminder of how empty and desolate the city had become.

As she turned a corner, she spotted what she thought was a group of children. They were small and covered with old rags. Hope flared in her chest. Could they be her child’s friends? Maybe that was why he was late. He forgot about time while playing. She approached them cautiously, not wanting to startle them.

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“Michel?” she called out softly, her voice trembling.

One of them turned around.

The woman took a step back while covering her mouth.

Those things were not children.

Their small, hunched figures made her think of malnourished children at first, but as they turned to face her, she saw their true nature. They had the same sickly white skin as the creatures from before. Their face, if it even could be called a face were made out of a large gaping maw filled with dagger-like fangs and various eyes both above and under it. Their body constantly twitched as their arms which were too long for their size dragged across the ground.

She stifled a scream, her mind racing with panic. The group of creatures began to advance, moving with an eerie, synchronized gait despite their twitch. The woman’s legs felt like they were made of lead, but she forced herself to turn and run.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she ran, her heart pounding louder with every step. The creatures followed, their movements unnaturally fluid and swift. She could hear their raspy breaths and the scraping sound of their dragging limbs.

"Michel!" she screamed again, her voice echoing through the empty streets. Desperation gave her speed, but her body was reaching its limit. She darted into an alley, hoping to lose the creatures in the maze of narrow passageways.

The alley was dark, the shadows deep and foreboding. She stumbled over debris, her vision blurred by tears and exhaustion. She could hear the creatures behind her, their unsettling clicks and growls growing closer. She slammed into an overflowing trash can, sending her crashing to the ground. Darkness filled her vision as her lips came in contact with the ground.

Her body screamed in protest, but sheer willpower pushed her back onto her feet, blood pouring out of her mouth. She took two steps forward before stumbling and falling to the ground. The fall seemed to hurt her more than she realized. Still, she crawled on her hands and knees as the creatures started to catch up to her.

Just as she thought it was the end, she saw a flicker of movement ahead. A figure stepped out of the shadows, tall and imposing. It was the man again, his massive sword resting easily on his shoulder.

Without a word, he moved past her, positioning himself between her and the approaching creatures. The woman collapsed against the wall, her body shaking with relief and terror.

The creatures hesitated at the sight of him, their unnatural eyes narrowing. The man shifted his stance, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. The creatures snarled, their fanged maws opening wide. They rushed forward in a coordinated attack, their movements a blur of pale limbs and gnashing teeth.

The man met them head-on, his sword flashing through the air with deadly precision. The first creature fell, split cleanly in two. The others hesitated, but their momentum carried them forward.

With a series of fluid, powerful swings, the man dispatched the remaining creatures, their bodies crumpling to the ground in grotesque heaps as if they were hit by cannon fire. The alley fell silent once more, the only sound of the woman’s labored breathing.

He glanced back at her without turning fully, their gazes meeting for the first time. The woman let out a muffled scream. His eyes were full black. They were devoid of emotion. Devoid of light.

He wasn’t human. He turned towards her.

She got up and started to run away.

He reached for her.

She hit something solid, something tougher than the ground she just hit. She raised her head to see what it was as something pierced her stomach. Another creature was before her. She hadn't noticed it, or maybe it was too fast. Unlike the others, this one stood on two legs, like a knight. If a creature could be called noble, it would be this one. It held a medieval spear in one hand and a large shield in the other as if it were part of its body. It was also washed in that sickly white.

The knight lifted the woman impaled on its spear into the air. She doubled over, coughing blood. She tried to say something, but her respiratory system was damaged. Maybe she begged for mercy? Or maybe she wanted to call out for her child a last time?

No one will ever know.

The knight let her body slip off the spear and fall to the ground. She lay there trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Perhaps she was trying to cling to life like a leaf clings to a branch, or maybe the cold winds of untimely death were caressing her, making her shiver. The knight, however, seemed unconcerned with such thoughts. It leaned over her, and its helmet split open, revealing what could be called a mouth. The split halves of the helmet fell to the ground, shattering like jagged porcelain. It opened its "mouth" impossibly wide and bit into her neck. No, perhaps "took a bite" would be more accurate. She stopped trembling. Though she had screamed earlier to defy being buried by the city, now she was silent, her body lying as if it had become part of the dull, dreary city. Blood from her jugular stained the knight's helmet-head. The blood from the flesh in its mouth slowly dripped to the ground. It didn't chew or swallow. It had no need for food.

The Black Dog moved swiftly, his dark eyes narrowing as he approached the knight-like creature. The woman's lifeless body lay crumpled at its feet, her blood staining the ground. He raised his massive sword, its edge gleaming menacingly. The knight-creature turned its attention to him, releasing a guttural growl. It lunged first, spear thrusting towards him with blinding speed. He parried the blow, the force of the impact reverberating up his arms. Yet, his face showed no sign of distress returning back to its emotionless state. He countered with a swift slash, but the creature's shield intercepted, producing a metallic clang that echoed through the alley.

They exchanged blows in a deadly dance, each movement calculated and precise. The man’s strength and skill were apparent, but the knight-creature was a formidable opponent. Its movements were fluid, almost graceful, despite its monstrous appearance.

The man dodged a particularly vicious thrust, rolling to the side and coming up behind the creature. With a mighty swing, he aimed for its exposed back. The creature twisted at the last second, the blade skimming its side, eliciting a hiss of pain and rage.

He pressed his advantage, raining down a flurry of strikes. The knight-creature defended valiantly, but it was being pushed back, its porcelain-like skin cracking under pressure. With a final, powerful blow, he cleaved through the creature’s shield, shattering it. The knight stumbled, and he seized the opportunity, driving his sword deep into its chest.

The creature let out a blood-curdling screech as it fell to its knees, its body twitching in its death throes. He wrenched his sword free, stepping back as the creature collapsed to the ground, lifeless. He slowly walked towards the woman’s corpse and looked down at her with a blank expression.

“Drip, drip.”

Sounds of a liquid falling to the ground were heard. He looked at his stomach to see a massive tentacle exiting out of it. He spun around, swinging his sword and severing the tentacle. Another tentacle grabbed the woman’s body by her leg, snatching it into the air. He didn’t make a single noise as he confronted the new monster.

His gaze followed the tentacle, tracing its origin to a massive, grotesque creature lurking in the shadows. This new abomination was unlike the others. Its body was a writhing mass of tendrils and eyes, a nightmarish fusion of flesh and shadow. It stood nearly three meters tall, its form constantly shifting and undulating as if it were a living storm of darkness.

The creature's multitude of eyes focused on him, each one gleaming with malevolent intelligence. It lifted the woman's lifeless body higher, dangling her like a trophy, her blood dripping onto the cobblestones below. His face remained impassive, but his eyes darkened with a cold fury.

The creature let out a guttural roar, the sound reverberating through the alleyway, shaking loose bits of debris from the buildings around them. It swung the woman's body towards him, using it as a grotesque flail. He ducked under the corpse, his movements fluid and precise, and closed the distance between them in a heartbeat.

With a powerful, upward swing, he aimed to sever the creature's main body from its tentacles. The blade cut through several tendrils, but the main body shifted and reformed, evading the full force of his strike. The severed tentacles writhed on the ground, each one twitching as if it had a life of its own.

The creature retaliated, lashing out with multiple tendrils. He dodged and parried, his sword a blur of motion. Despite its size and apparent lack of structure, the creature was incredibly fast, its movements unpredictable. It managed to land a glancing blow, knocking him back a few steps as black blood poured out of his stomach, but he quickly regained his footing.

His eyes flicked over the creature, analyzing its form, searching for any sign of vulnerability. He noticed that the main body seemed to recoil whenever he struck its tendrils as if it were trying to protect a central core.

He lowered his stance until his body was nearly parallel to the ground. He kicked the ground below, charging forward. The creature lashed out, its tendrils piercing his body and painting the grey stone into black. The wounds in his body could kill a human but he was not one.

He drove his sword deep into the creature's core. The blade sank in with a wet, sickening squelch, and the beast let out an ear-splitting shriek.

The tendrils flailed wildly, convulsing in agony. He twisted the blade, driving it deeper, and with a final, mighty heave, he ripped the sword free. The creature collapsed, its form disintegrating into a puddle of dark, viscous liquid.

He put his free hand into his pocket. After rummaging for a second he pulled out a cigarette joint and put it into his mouth. The joint looked cheap and could come undone in any second but the man didn’t seem to mind. He pulled out a lighter and lit it. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the toxic gas. He opened his eyes and saw numerous monsters crawling towards him. He slowly lifted his hand and put the joint between his fingers.

"You're not even going to let me enjoy this damn thing, are you, you sons of bitches?"