It was raining.

Heavy rain falling to the ground and washing the city would been seen as a blessing at best in other places or a minor nuisance that slowed down daily life at worst but here it was different. Clouds that carried the water, something that allowed life to take root and continue were mixed with the black smoke exiting out of the factories. Their white form was strangled until they lost what pureness they held and turned black. When the conditions were right, they rained upon the city as acid. It was almost like they were taking revenge on those who corrupted them. The acid tore through already dilapidated buildings and flooded the lower levels.

The air was filled with the harsh smell of it. Every breath filled the city dweller’s nostrils with a stinging and bitter sensation.

Kerberos knew that several people were going to drown tonight. Even without the acidic properties of the rain, the city wasn’t built to handle even the most lightest of drizzles. The water falling quickly turned the dust covering the city to mud and flooded basements and this night the rain was too fast and heavy.

Kerberos felt nothing about it.

He knew that he should have at least felt something about it. Feel bad about it. But nothing rose up inside his chest.

Was it because of the Black Blood running through his veins? Or because of the training he received the dull his emotions?

A part of him wished they were the reason. He wished that he could push the blame for his apathy to things other than himself. He wished that he was different from than monsters he had been hunting for more than 20 years.

Kerberos walked through the rain, his black trench coat doing little to shield him from the acidic downpour. The fabric sizzled slightly as droplets ate away at its surface. He pulled up his hood to protect his face from the acid, even though it basically did nothing to help.

He passed by the huddled forms of people seeking shelter under crumbling awnings and makeshift tents. Their eyes, hollow and defeated, followed him with a mixture of fear and curiosity. They knew what he was, even if they didn’t know who he was. The black eyes, and the pallid skin marked with the telltale signs of the Black Blood, made him stand out even in this forsaken place.

He gazed as the people tried to keep their lamps lit up. They are said to deter monsters away. It wasn’t rare for workers to be paid with mostly fuel for the lamps instead of money.

Did it work?

No. Kerberos know for a fact that they didn’t. Not only he had seen countless homes broken into while the lamps were still burning, but his own family was also slaughtered while they had the lamp on. It was a lie to pay less. He looked at the people once again.

He could see two types of people trying to prepare for the night and the monsters. The first ones were the lowest of the low. Cripple and sick. Those with no families. They simply had no one or nowhere to go. The other type was the people who threw themselves outside as their homes were destroyed by the rain. Both were unlucky and Kerberos doubted if any of them could see the sunrise.

He moved on, his steps heavy in the thickening mud. The acidic rain, mingled with the grime and smoke, created a toxic slurry that clung to his boots. His destination was unclear as he was given the mission to patrol the city just like every other Black Dog.

Find and kill every monster in the city.

Only by doing that people can be safe.

What a load of bullshit.

They were never ordered to protect or escort people, except higher-ups. The city could somehow find enough resources to pay the scientists and city guards high salaries, supply them with these huge specially made swords, or even keep building more factories but they never had enough resources to build a shelter for the people.

He stopped to think.

It was something that wasn’t fit for a Black Dog. They were meant to be weapons. They weren’t meant to think for themselves. Perhaps it was the years of service, he was rusted and damaged just like one of the machines in the factories. The rain pounded harder, each drop a stinging reminder of the city's decay. Kerberos forced himself to keep moving, to push away the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. Yet, unlike many nights before, he was unsuccessful.

Number 47’s last words repeated in his head. Normally he would not care about it. Overflown Ones were mad men and women who sprouted all kinds of nonsensical things.

“It is under the city. I can feel it. The source of our suffering. The door…”

Her words echoed in his mind once again. He shook his head to dislodge Number 47’s final words from his mind. As his head moved, he noticed that he stopped just in front of a manhole. It was clogged and covered with mud and dirt. The only reason Kerberos could notice it was because of the rain washing away some of the stuff covering it.

Without thinking, Kerberos leaned towards it picked the metal cover with one arm, and tossed it to the side. He took one step and jumped down. He landed with a splash in the sewer below, the acrid stench of the rain mixing with the foul odor of the waste that flowed beneath the city. Any normal person would have gagged and threw up but he was used to it. The tunnel was dark, but his enhanced vision pierced the gloom easily. Black Blood coursing through his veins not only gave him physical prowess but also heightened his senses to near-superhuman levels.

Kerberos moved through the tunnel, the sound of his boots echoing off the damp walls. He had no clear destination or aim, only the gnawing feeling that something was drawing him deeper into the bowels of the city. As he ventured further, he noticed signs of life—or rather the signs of monsters passing through the sewers. A frown appeared on his face.

Were the monsters traveling through the sewers to attack the city? How did no one notice it? The deeper he ventured, the more obvious the signs became. Claw marks on the walls, half-eaten carcasses of small animals, and a pervasive, unnatural chill that seeped into his bones despite the Black Blood's influence. Kerberos tightened his grip on his weapon, every sense on high alert.

As he continued, the tunnel opened up into a wider chamber, partially illuminated by a dim, flickering light that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. It was as if the very stones were alive, pulsing with an eerie, bioluminescent glow. Kerberos paused, scanning the chamber for any signs of movement.

A metallic sound caught his attention. He slowed his breathing as his massive frame melded into shadows. He gripped his weapon tightly, ready to strike down whatever threat was looming around the corner. However, he wasn’t ready for what was ahead of him.

It was a hatch. Metallic and mechanical, it slowly creaked open. A pale and thin arm popped out of the hatch. Soon another one joined it. And another one. And another one. Numerous arms pulled the body of the creature out of the hatch. It looked at Kerberos with eyeless sockets and stretched.

Kerberos lost no time. He lunged forward, splitting the creature into two while jamming his sword into the hatch, stopping it from closing. The creature's screech echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the walls as its bisected form writhed on the ground. Green, ichorous blood oozed from the severed halves, the smell of it mixing with the stench of the sewers and the acidic rain. Kerberos's senses were assaulted from all sides, but he remained focused, his grip on his weapon steady.

With a swift motion, he yanked his sword from the hatch, ignoring the acidic burn of the creature's blood on his hands. He needed to see what was beyond it. The hatch, now jammed open by the remains of the creature, revealed a narrow, moldy passage descending into darkness.

“It is under the city. I can feel it. The source of our suffering. The door…”

47’s words rang in his head as he looked down upon the darkness. Kerberos hesitated for a moment. He knew that descending further would take him into uncharted territory. He already deviated from his mission. What would happen if he went further? What he would find?

“The source of our suffering..”

He repeated to himself. Then he jumped down.

It was a long way down. Long enough to break a normal person’s legs. But he was no normal person.

“The damn hatch isn’t closing.”

A frustrated voice complained as Kerberos landed.

“Stupid beast must be stuck. Just wait for a sec-What the fuck?!”

Kerberos took in his surroundings while ignoring two coat-wearing people. He was in a glass box. The chamber he found himself in was vast, a stark contrast to the claustrophobic sewers above. It was illuminated by a harsh, artificial light that made the shadows seem even darker. The walls were lined with machinery, tubes, and wires snaking in every direction. Large tanks filled with a greenish liquid housed grotesque, half-formed creatures suspended in eerie stillness.

The two figures in lab coats gawked at him, their expressions shifting from surprise to fear as they realized who—or what—had just crashed into their secret domain.

“Call for backup!” one of them shouted, fumbling with a device clipped to his belt. The other grabbed a nearby weapon, a sleek, high-tech rifle, and aimed it at Kerberos.

Kerberos ignored him. Not only did his shaky hands give away his inexperience with the weapon he held, but he was also spread from him with this glass box. Instead, he focused on the horrid scene in front of him. His eyes followed massive amounts of blood to its source.

A mass of flesh, bone, and skin which used to be a woman was chained to a cold, metallic table. Her legs and arms were gone and the marks on the stumps told Kerberos that they were amputated with surgical precision. A tube connected to a machine filled with a white goo filled her mouth. Her stomach was torn open. Kerberos could deduce that the wounds were caused by something tearing its way out of her stomach instead of something impaling her stomach as her ribs protruded outside and her guts were on the floor. Her eyes were wide with terror.

Kerberos slowly walked towards her and closed her eyes with a gentleness that surprised even himself.

“Shit! Shit! What will we do? It is a fucking Black Dog!”

Unarmed one tugged the coat of the other one.

“Calm the fuck down! That box is made to hold the monsters! He can’t get out until the backup arrives!”

Contrary to his words, his voice was shaky.

Kerberos closed his eyes and took in the situation. He recognized the sterile walls and smell. He recognized those white coats. This was a laboratory, a place where monsters were created, not just studied and it was made by the same people who made him, made Black Dogs. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. The people who had turned him into a Black Dog were also responsible for the very creatures he had been fighting all these years. The implications were staggering, and the rage that had been buried deep within him began to surface and he was about to find a use for it as people began to surround him.

Unlike the panicked scientists, those people wore some kind of armor and carried their weapons in a trained manner.

“Black Dog, Kerberos. Why are you here?”

A large man called out to him. He sounded confident but his words had the opposite effect on his man.

“Kerberos?”

“A named Black Dog! Fuck this!”

Kerberos didn't respond immediately. Instead, he gauged the situation. The scientists and guards surrounding him seemed well-prepared, their weapons trained on him with precision. He knew they were aware of his capabilities; a single misstep could trigger a deadly response.

The large man stepped forward, clearly the leader. "I asked you a question, Black Dog. Why are you here?" His tone was demanding, but Kerberos could hear his confidence diminishing. He grasped his sword tighter.

“To end our suffering.”

Kerberos met the man's gaze with a cold, unwavering stare. The leader's face twisted with anger. "Enough!" he barked. "Seize him!"

One of the scientists pressed down a button and the glass box started to rise. The guards moved in, their weapons at the ready. With a swift, fluid motion, Kerberos lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. The first guard fell, his weapon clattering to the floor as he crumpled. The others hesitated, their fear palpable as they faced the wrath of a Black Dog.

Shots rang out, the deafening noise echoing in the confined space. Even though he never faced firearms before, Kerberos weaved between shots with inhuman agility. He dispatched the guards one by one, each strike calculated and lethal. Huge metal meant to be used against monsters tore through armored men, blood splattering the walls, mingling with the green ichor of the creatures in the tanks.

The leader backed away, his bravado shattered.

“You don’t understand what you are doing!”

He stammered, his eyes wide with panic. Kerberos ignored him, his focus unyielding. He approached the large man, his sword gleaming with a deadly promise.

“You create monsters here. I kill monsters. It is that simple.”

The large man's eyes darted around, looking for any means of escape.

“I don’t think that’s that simple, Kerberos.”

A sly voice echoed. Soon the hunched figure of Doctor Entress entered Kerberos’ vision. He was accompanied by two large garbed beings. These were not ordinary guards; their movements were too fluid, too precise. Enhanced, like him.

“I told you that you were too good at your job. I knew that you would find your way here one day.”

Entress spoke with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

“You have a lot of questions, don’t you? Come on, let me show you around.”

He turned around and started to walk away. Kerberos followed him while holding his sword tightly. The two guards flanked him, their bodies hidden behind loose white garbs they were wearing. Entress led them through a labyrinth of sterile corridors, each one identical to the last. The walls were lined with glass windows, behind which various monstrous experiments writhed and twisted in their containment.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"You see, Kerberos," Entress began, his voice dripping with a smugness that grated on Kerberos' nerves, "everything here is a part of a greater plan. The monsters, the Black Dogs, even the city itself—it's all a grand experiment."

Kerberos remained silent, his grip on his sword tightening as he looked at the several females chained to tables. Their state was nothing short of horrific. Limbs amputated, they were kept alive by tubes, a macabre parody of life. But the most revolting sight was their swollen bellies. They were pregnant. With monsters.

The urge to strike down Entress where he stood was overwhelming, but he needed answers. Entress noticed Kerberos' intense gaze and grinned, mistaking his horror for curiosity.

"Interested?" Entress taunted, misinterpreting the fury and disgust in Kerberos' eyes. The horrors inflicted upon these women were beyond comprehension, yet Entress seemed oblivious to the depths of his depravity.

"They were part of our first experiments," Entress continued, his tone disturbingly casual. "We knew that the blood and flesh of an Old One changed people. It was the key to our ascension. But adults couldn’t bear the transformation; their bodies were already set in their ways. So, we turned to the opposite end of the spectrum—babies. We experimented repeatedly, determining how much blood to inject and at which developmental stage to do so."

They entered a large room, filled with complex machinery and massive tanks containing grotesque abominations in various stages of development. Scientists in white coats moved about, monitoring readouts and adjusting controls, barely sparing a glance at Kerberos and his captors.

“What is an Old One?”

Kerberos suppressed his anger and managed to snarl out a question.

Entress looked back at Kerberos, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, the Old Ones," he began, his tone almost reverent.

"They are ancient beings, predating humanity by eons. They were here way before our ancestors were on treetops. Way before even the first dinosaurs walked the piece of dirt we call Earth. They ruled this planet with a dominance we could only imagine.”

He stopped to take a deep breath.

“They had everything. Power, immortality, and knowledge. They had so much that they had nothing left to do in this world, in this plane of existence.”

It was almost like Entress was in an orgasmic bliss while talking about them.

“So they left. They left their earthly bodies and ascended to a higher plane.”

Kerberos took in Entress' words with a mixture of disbelief and rage. The monstrous experiments, the exploitation of innocent lives, the lies and deceit—all of it now connected in a horrifying web. The weight of the revelations pressed heavily upon him so much that he couldn’t realize how far they had walked and where they were right now for a second.

He raised his head to see the massive black form suspended with chains. It was unmoving and several tubes were connected to its body. Kerberos stared at the massive black form suspended in chains. The creature was a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and shadow, its form vaguely humanoid but distorted and twisted in ways that defied natural anatomy. The tubes connected to its body pulsed rhythmically, feeding it with a dark, viscous substance that seemed to flow from the very core of the chamber.

"What is this thing?" Kerberos asked, his voice strained as he struggled to contain his rage and horror.

Entress chuckled, a sound that grated on Kerberos' nerves.

“Amazing, isn’t it? The source of Black Blood. The discarded body of an Old One. The key to our ascension.”

Kerberos's gaze remained locked on the massive, monstrous form suspended before him. It was motionless. Every living being moves a little as their heart beats as a side effect of their body functioning. Yet this being was fully still. It was unnerving and Kerberos felt his eyes stinging as he looked at the creature. Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. This abomination, this lifeless, massive form, was the discarded body of an Old One—the source of all the Black Blood and the very cause of the city's suffering.

Kerberos' gaze was fixed on the creature, the rage within him bubbling uncontrollably. The monsters he had been fighting, the people he had been hunting—everything was tied to this dark, primordial source. The notion that his and other’s entire existence as Black Dogs was a mere cog in a twisted experiment aimed at achieving a so-called "ascension" filled him with an unbearable fury.

“This ends. Now.”

Kerberos' knuckles whitened around the hilt of his sword. Entress’s smile faltered for a moment before he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Shame. You had potential.”

Without warning, one of the garbed figures lunged towards him. A serrated polearm aimed for Kerberos’s throat with the intent of tearing it open. The strike which was strong enough to pierce through a steel door pushed Kerberos back several steps. It tore off its garbs and locked eyes with Kerberos.

Its eyes were familiar.

A pure white creature started to circle Kerberos. Entress watched them intently in a safe distance, protected by the other guard.

“Oh, it recognizes you. I knew that your blood was special!” Entress cheered, clapping his hands in a twisted display of glee. “It’s a shame you and her had no other relatives. Her body could only produce two.”

The realization slowly crawled inside Kerberos’s brain.

“That’s impossible. She died that night.”

The creature lunged at him with feral speed, its polearm flashing in the harsh light of the laboratory. Kerberos met its attack with a fierce counterstrike, his sword slicing through the air with lethal precision. It was a head taller than Kerberos with elongated and sinewy limbs to match. Unlike many of the monsters he faced before it wasn’t completely bald as pristine white feathers thinly covered its wrists and ankles.

“Not all Old Ones left this realm at the same time. Some remained longer. Some of them were with us when we started to become sapient. Perhaps thanks to one of their meddling.”

Kerberos could hear Entress’s voice between heavy clanging.

“They ruled us, taught us, and sometimes they breed with us. You and your sister had their blood. Thanks to that you are better attuned to Black Blood. Shame. I had high hopes for you.”

Kerberos parried another strike, the force of the blow sending vibrations up his arm. The creature’s attacks were relentless, each one more ferocious than the last.

“You. You did the same things to my older sister.”

Kerberos growled, his voice thick with rage and sorrow.

“You used her body, her blood, to create these abominations.”

Entress’s laughter was a cold, hollow sound.

“I stitched her up after her first birth. That’s when I understood that she was special. It took a lot of effort to keep her alive until her second birth you know. But it is impossible to stitch her body after the second one. Well, she served her purpose.”

Kerberos’s fury reached a boiling point. The creature, driven by a primal connection to him, fought with a savage intensity. Kerberos matched it, blow for blow, each strike fueled by a deep, personal vendetta.

“She deserved better,” Kerberos spat, his sword clashing against the creature's polearm, sending sparks flying. “You turned her into a tool, a vessel for your twisted ambitions.”

Entress’s cold eyes watched the battle with detached interest. “Her sacrifice paved the way for progress, for the ascension of mankind. You should be proud.”

Kerberos's rage flared. “Proud? Of what? Of the suffering, the pain, the loss? You call this progress?” He delivered a powerful blow, slicing through the creature's defense and sending it staggering back. Red blood unlike the monster’s and Black Dog’s dripped down from its wound. Yet it closed at in an instant not even leaving a scar. It straightened its back and thrust its weapon once again, piercing Kerberos’s stomach.

It lifted Kerberos to its eye level and inspected him as he coughed black blood, staining the creature’s white skin. Kerberos, hanging from the polearm, locked eyes with the creature. At that moment, a silent understanding passed between them. Perhaps it was because he learned their origins, the look on their monstrous faces looked innocent. All the monsters he killed were children corrupted against their will, taken from their mothers, and used as tools. For a second Kerberos doubted they even understood what they were doing to the people.

With a final surge of strength, Kerberos gripped the polearm, pulling himself closer by impaling himself deeper. The creature, born of his sister's suffering, was a victim too. With a roar of defiance, he drove his sword into the creature's chest. The blade sank deep. The creature stumbled back, its grip on its polearm loosening causing Kerberos to fall to the ground.

He didn’t get the chance to stand up as the other creature ran to its brother’s help, ignoring Erntress's shouting to stay at his side. It helped its brother to pull the sword out of its chest and together they stabbed Kerberos repeatedly.

Kerberos lay on the cold, hard floor, his vision dimming as he felt his life slipping away. The pain was sharp but he was used to all kinds of pain. What hurt him really was the fact that this was the end. He learned this much and came here for what?

To die without changing anything? The creatures, his sister's children, stood over him, their pure white eyes filled with a mix of confusion and sorrow. Kerberos looked at them with eyes bearing no hate, his vision fading away with every second as the blood left his body and spears broke his bones.

“Sorry… I didn’t… get to raise you.”

Everything went dark.

…

….

……

Kerberos reached for the black door.

Entress watched Kerberos's body grow still, the life draining from his eyes. He motioned to the remaining guards, who moved to dispose of the Black Dog’s body. But as they approached, a low, guttural sound emerged from Kerberos’s throat.

Entress froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. Kerberos’s body convulsed, and the black blood that pooled beneath him began to move, seeping back into his wounds. The chains that bound the Old One's body rattled as if reacting to Kerberos’s transformation.

Kerberos’s eyes snapped open. He rose slowly, the wounds on his body closing as the black blood continued to flow into him. Entress could no longer see his face or eyes. The creatures that had stabbed him backed away, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and recognition.

Entress stumbled backward, his hands shaking with excitement. The guards looked at Entress for any kind of order but he was so busy with witnessing the birth of a new Old One. Kerberos, or what used to be Kerberos extended his arm towards the guards. He clenched his fist and the guards turned into clouds of red mist.

Kerberos’s newly transformed form loomed over the chamber, an almost ethereal presence of dark power. Shadows wrapped around his body as something indescribable covered his face, obscuring it from the lower beings.

“Ahahahah! I succeed! I succeed!”

Entress shouted like a madman as he looked at Kerberos walking towards him. No. It wasn’t that Kerberos was moving, it was the space itself twisting and shattering to allow him to move without moving. He stopped in front of Entress and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him into the air and snapping his neck.

The room fell into a heavy silence, punctuated only by the distant, rhythmic thumping of machinery. Kerberos surveyed the laboratory, his newly gained senses taking in the full extent of the horrors contained within. The tubes and vats that held the remains of the Old Ones, the records detailing the twisted experiments, the countless lives sacrificed for this dark endeavor—all of it lay bare before him.

He approached the suspended body of the Old One, the source of the Black Blood. The chains rattled as he reached out, his hand extending to touch the grotesque form. As his fingers made contact, the massive form began to react. The dark blood and viscera started to shift, coalescing into a new shape, one that resonated with Kerberos’s will. Kerberos turned his attention to the remaining garbed figures. They were his sister’s children, born of the same blood, yet twisted into abominations by the very forces he now sought to dismantle. He approached them, his presence commanding respect and fear.

“You are free now.”

Thousands of distinct voices spoke as Kerberos opened his mouth. Kerberos’s newly transformed form loomed over the crumbling laboratory, his power resonating through the very fabric of reality. The reanimated Old One, now under his control, tore through the chamber, its form merging with the shadows to become an unstoppable force. The city’s doom was sealed.

As Kerberos and the Old One’s amalgamated power reached the surface, the dark energy radiated outward, engulfing the city. Citizens in their homes, on the streets, and within the towering structures felt the oppressive presence. Their eyes widened in terror as an unnatural darkness began to consume the city. People stumbled in confusion, their cries and pleas echoing through the streets. Yet, the more they struggled, the more the darkness seemed to suffocate them.

With a deliberate gesture, Kerberos willed the darkness to spread further. The streets were swallowed by an ever-expanding shadow, and as it reached each individual, they vanished without a trace. The transformation was instantaneous; one moment, people were there, and the next, they ceased to exist. Their screams faded into silence as if they had never been.

“No more. No more suffering.”

He felt the weight of what he had done, yet there was a cold detachment. The city had been a mere experiment, a place of suffering and manipulation. Countless people were born into poverty, working in inhuman conditions until they fell ill due to exhaustion and pollution. They were starved, uneducated, and beyond saving. In his eldritch mind, the eradication of the city was the only solution to end its pollution and corruption, to stop the endless cycle of suffering.

No more suffering.

The city vanished, and with it, the pain and torment that had plagued its inhabitants for so long.

The world outside the city continued, unaware of the cataclysm that had occurred. Life went on as it always did, but somewhere in the shadows, a new power stirred, waiting to be discovered.