"The Lion, the Child, the Grave, the Thread, the Throne, and the Human"

I jolted awake, the remnants of the dream still vivid in my mind. It was the same dream that had haunted me for a decade—images of a lion, a child, and a dark, twisting thread. I had no idea what it meant, but it left me with an unsettling feeling, like a half-remembered warning.

"Elliot, you need to get up now, or you'll miss the bus!" My mom's voice cut through the haze of sleep and lingering dream. I glanced at the clock—7:15 AM. The first day of the new term, and I was already running late. I scrambled out of bed, the chill of the morning air a sharp contrast to the warmth of my sheets. The dream lingered in the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside as I hurried to get dressed.

The smell of pancakes greeted me as I descended the stairs, the sweet aroma of honey mingling with the comforting scent of crisp bacon. It was a small ritual that made mornings bearable, a moment of normalcy before facing the world outside.

"Mom, are those pancakes I smell?" I asked, even though I already knew. It was our usual first-day-of-school breakfast, a tradition she never skipped.

"Yes, dear. Pancakes, just like you like them," she replied with a warm smile, though her eyes carried a hint of worry. "Are you excited for the new school year?" Her tone was casual, but I could tell she was probing, as she often did.

"Not really, but at least the breakfast is something to look forward to," I joked, trying to keep the mood light. I forced a chuckle, knowing it wasn't much of a joke, but it seemed to ease her concern, if only a little.

Mom placed a plate in front of me—golden pancakes drizzled with honey and a side of crispy bacon. I dug in, savoring the familiar comfort. As I ate, she reminded me to take an umbrella. "You know how you are with colds," she said, her voice a mix of affection and gentle teasing.

On my way to the bus stop, I passed by an orphanage I was familiar with, "Hope Sanctuary." This place had no hope at all; it was an orphanage that had been abandoned for a long time after a fire ten years ago.

I was only seven years old then, but I remember it because I came from there. The caretakers used to play with me... I mean, "they used to play with my body." The administrators didn't care about the children. Many times, I saw them take the orphaned girls into a room and... never mind, there's no point in dwelling on the past. I should thank my mom now for saving me from that place.

I arrived at the bus stop and saw a girl across the street in the same school uniform as mine, probably around the same age as me. She had long, curly red hair, freckles on her face, and was slightly shorter than me. She reminded me of someone I knew. After a moment, a name popped into my head... Mia!

My childhood friend, the only one who played with me at that orphanage. She was like an oasis in the desert for me, but I hadn't heard from her in a long time since she was adopted by a kind-hearted person shortly before I was. I didn't know the details, but that was the last time I saw her, ten years ago. If that was her, I wouldn't let this chance slip away.

I ran across the street, not even looking both ways. If I had been hit by a car, it wouldn't have surprised me, but luckily there were no cars at the time. I ran towards her, shouting, "Mia!"

It would be embarrassing if it wasn't her. Imagine a kid running up to someone calling out a strange name like that. Even I wasn't sure it was Mia.

"Huh? Who are you?" She asked, looking confused.

"It's me, um... Elliot, from the same orphanage. Are you Mia? If I'm wrong, I'm sorry; you look like someone I know."

I felt embarrassed by what I said. If I could do anything right now, it would be to dig a hole and bury myself so I wouldn't have to interact with anyone.

"Yes, it's me. Is that you, Elliot? You've grown a lot, but you're still... acting dumb as ever, ha ha ha!" She laughed with that weird laugh she always had when we were kids.

Now I was sure; this was the real Mia. I was thrilled, my heart pounding so hard I thought I might have a heart attack. We talked for a while and found out we were in the same school, even the same class. Thank heavens for bringing us together again.

It's true what they say; happy times fly by. I sat next to her, and we became so close that on the first day of school, everyone thought we were a couple. It was funny, but I didn't care as long as I was with her. Now that school was over, I had to head home; my mom would probably report me missing if I was late, given that I was a loner with no friends.

I took the bus to the stop where I had started the morning, 11th Street. I was exhausted; I understood it was normal for there to be a lot of people between 4-5 PM because they were getting off work, but I didn't expect it to be this crowded. I had to wait an hour for the bus, and there was a lot of traffic. Walking home, I passed by that hellish orphanage again, not paying much attention until...

"Is that Mia? What is she doing here?" I saw Mia walking into the orphanage. I didn't know; I couldn't find an answer as to why she was there. The orphanage was abandoned, and we didn't have any good memories there. I shouted her name as loudly as I could, "Mia!" She walked in without even glancing back at me.

Why? Why did she have to go there? It's none of my business, but I couldn't let my only friend go into a dangerous place like that. I climbed over the fence into the orphanage; it wasn't too hard for me since I played sports regularly. I remembered when I was a kid, that fence seemed like an insurmountable fortress, bigger than anything else. I felt like I couldn't get over it, but now I'd climbed over the two-meter fence.

I ran into the orphanage, calling for Mia. There was no answer, only the echo of my voice in that place. The more I searched for her, the more it seemed like she didn't exist there. It felt like this place was empty except for me and the emptiness. The emptiness had become the only thing I could feel now. The void had surrounded me, and although it had no form, the moment I became aware of it, I became scared. Scared of the unknown, of what I couldn't see. I began to hear strange noises from below; maybe it was the basement. I didn't know where it was, but now I was starting to feel hungry and thirsty, which was unusual for me, especially when I was out.

But now that it was happening, I reached into my backpack for a water bottle and drank almost the entire thing. It was getting dark outside; I looked at my phone to check the time—6:28 PM—and saw 4+ messages from my mom. I wondered why she had sent so many messages. I quickly opened them, wondering if there was something important she wanted to tell me.

"Where are you?

Why aren't you home yet?

It's late, you know.

I told you not to get involved with alcohol or drugs.

Are you okay?

Where have you been? I went to look for you at school, and they said you weren't there.

I miss you."

Those were all the messages. I wondered what was going on with my mom; I wasn't that late. I understood I was later than usual because of the traffic, but it wasn't so late that she should be like this. It was only 6:28...

I was shocked when I looked at the clock again—7:14. I remembered last time I checked, it was only 6:30. No matter how long I took to read the messages, it shouldn't have been this long. I glanced at the date—23/7/2012. Two days had passed. Questions flooded my mind: what was going on? Why was time moving faster than normal? I concluded that time in this place moved faster. I needed to get out of here. The moment I started to move, time seemed to stop around me, but I was still aware.

I heard footsteps behind me, echoing through the air, coming closer. I didn't know what it was; I couldn't turn around to look. I didn't even have the strength to scream. I glanced slightly to the side and saw it. A creature standing on two legs, with a human-like shape, but the feeling it emitted, the way it moved—it wasn't human. It walked in a strange, awkward way, not like a limp, but like a child learning to walk. The way it spoke, it slowly mimicked human language. The sounds it made started as "Ah, oh, ah," like a mute person trying to speak. After a few seconds, it began to form words, though not clearly, but understandable enough.

"Y...ou... a...re... am...az...ing," it said, dragging out the words, sounding like a child learning to speak, with a strange way of producing

 sound, as if it knew the language but didn't know how to pronounce it like a human. It was like an animal trying to mimic human speech.

I wondered what I was amazing at. Hundreds of questions rushed through my mind—what was happening? What was happening to me? What was happening to this place? And all the questions were left unanswered.

I couldn't make a sound. Even just glancing to the side made me feel exhausted, like I had been playing sports nonstop. Now, it might be embarrassing to say this, but... I missed my mom.

I thought about how I would die, how my mom would live, how sad she would be right now. I didn't want her to be sad. I might not have been the best son to her, but I loved her with all my heart. I regretted not spending more time with her. I swore if I got out of this alive, I would spend more time with my mom. But it seemed like I wouldn't get to do that.

The creature in front of me began to pull something from its throat, like it was going to regurgitate something. In front of me was a chessboard, but... the chessboard and pieces in front of me were growing larger, and I was floating in the air, looking down from above, as if I was floating 3-4 meters above it.

I felt like I was going to vomit and wet myself at the same time. I'm afraid of heights, and I get airsick too, but as long as I wasn't dead, it was okay, I guess.

The creature in front of me was sitting cross-legged in mid-air at the same level as me. Now it looked a little more human.

"Let me introduce myself first. My name is Lucien Vortigern, an apprentice wizard. I have an offer for you: if you can win this chess game, I'll let you go. But if you lose, you'll become my test subject until the end of time. If you surrender now, you'll die painlessly."

The creature in front of me introduced itself as Lucien Vortigern, an apprentice wizard. This time, when it spoke, it sounded almost completely human. It made me despise it even more. But if this was my chance to survive, I agreed without hesitation. Now time seemed to return to normal. I played as black, and Lucien played as white.

...

It must have been about half an hour. I was close to winning, just one more move, and I would have him in checkmate.

"Well played, but you know I don't play games I can't win. Forgive me." It said something that puzzled me, then I realized my body was growing tired. My head felt heavy, as if I was sinking. I tried to keep my focus. I bit my tongue hard; the taste of blood filled my mouth, reaching my nose. I tried to hold back tears. It wasn't the pain that was unbearable, but this shouldn't be happening now. I should be happy, living a normal life.

I shook off all my thoughts and focused on what was in front of me. What was that creature doing? I saw it smiling, slowly rising from its cross-legged position in mid-air. It walked towards me, speaking something I couldn't understand. At this point, just staying conscious was a feat. My ears were ringing, but now it was getting closer, only a few meters away... 4 meters... 3 meters... 2 meters... Until it was right in front of me. This was the closest I'd seen it.

Its body looked almost human. Black hair, blue eyes. I stared into its eyes. This monster in front of me, I was sure it was enjoying my suffering. I wanted to run away, far from this place, but believe me, I tried my best. But my legs wouldn't move. I didn't know how to walk in mid-air, or even if I did, my legs felt like they were chained to the ground. Only death awaited me. I'd already resigned myself to it. I shouldn't have believed the lies of this demon. I really thought I had a chance to survive.

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How foolish of me to believe that. Never mind, I'm about to rest now, sleep forever. Now I'll become one with the void.

But then I saw my mom's and Mia's faces... I didn't want to die. I understood that we all must die someday, but not like this. I still wanted to live.

But never mind, that demon was going to kill me with something sharp that should have been a human hand, but for it, it twisted into a sharp spiral.

At first, I thought it was a monster, but it wasn't. Monsters don't know right from wrong; they only act on instinct. But this vile thing in front of me, it was a true demon by nature. It had more intelligence than me, for sure. But it didn't even hesitate to kill a child like me. Now, all I saw was its twisted smile.

"Ah... yo...u... bas...tard..." I muttered my last words before a sharp appendage of that demon pierced my chest.

I felt a deep self-pity. I didn't have the strength to resist or even scream. No, I didn't even try to fight back; from the start, I thought I would lose without trying.

In the end, if I had tried a little harder, would things have been better? I wondered one last time before sinking into oblivion.

---

"The Lion, the Child, the Grave, the Thread, the Throne, and the Human."

I jolted awake... wait, wasn't I dead? I was back in a place that looked like my home, or should I say, it was my home.

I had so many questions about what had happened yesterday. Now, there wasn't even a scar on my chest; everything was fine. I remembered something and ran downstairs.

"Where are you rushing off to, dear?" Mom—thank God I was back with my mom. I rushed to hug her tightly, trying to hold back my tears.

"What's wrong, dear? Did you have a nightmare?" Mom asked, looking puzzled. I wasn't usually like this.

"No, but can I hold you like this for a while?" I said, holding my mom. I thought I'd never see her again. But wait, I stopped hugging her and walked into the kitchen, asking, "Mom, what's for breakfast?" She replied that she hadn't made anything yet. I went to the cupboard, took a kitchen knife, and hid it in my pants pocket. I was too careless. When I hugged that thing pretending to be my mom, I smelled it, the scent of that demon. And now the pajamas I was wearing were my usual duck pajamas. I didn't even remember how I got home or when I changed. I slowly approached the thing that looked like my mom and pulled out the knife, stabbing it in the left chest from behind. It felt like I was stabbing into chicken meat with large bones and muscles. The knife slowly sank deeper, pushing further until it became a nauseating feeling. I stabbed it deep enough to reach what seemed like its lungs. I saw that demon change into its true form.

A body like a thick, sticky mucus, a face full of dozens of mouths, each with hundreds of teeth, and countless small eyes all over its body. I watched it squirming on the floor, seemingly speaking something I couldn't understand. Perhaps it was because I'd lost my mind, but I couldn't hear anything now. There was only silence. This was the first time I had killed someone. No, I tried to shake off the thought. What I did was self-defense, and what I killed wasn't even a person. I thought that if its true form was like this, then what was the feeling of stabbing it? Or was that its weakness when it took on the form of a living being? Its genetics would mimic that being, including its weaknesses. That was the hypothesis I came up with. But if so, why did it change into its true form at the end? Never mind, I didn't have time for such nonsense. Where was my mom now? And why did it take on my mom's form? Why was it in our house? Every question went unanswered. It almost drove me crazy. I didn't know anything. What had happened?

I looked out the window; everything looked like our world, except the sky was purple, the sun red, and the air smelled nauseating. Maybe this was a parallel dimension where the demons lived. And if everything in my house was the same, then that thing must be here too. I went to my old room, walked to the desk, and opened a box I had placed under the table. Inside the box were three small tanks, containing nitric acid, chlorine gas, and calcium carbide (CaC2), all well-separated. I carefully took out each tank and headed to the basement of the house, where I used to conduct strange experiments until my mom had to stop me often. I should thank those toys for keeping me entertained back then because now they were about to do something great for humanity. I began to craft each item carefully.

It reminded me of the old days when my mom's brother or my uncle would bring me dangerous things because he knew how much I loved science and inventions. He wasn't a good man; he was part of a criminal gang. But so what? If he could bring me toys, I was happy. Unfortunately, he passed away years ago. But never mind, I focused on the experiment. I worked on each item carefully. Time passed quickly; I was almost done. A little more time passed, and I glanced at the clock—9:20 PM. It was a good time to rid the world of these demons. Now my experiment was complete. I put on a gas mask, a bulletproof vest, and then a Hazmat Suit. If this were the real world, I would look like a cosplaying scientist at a comic-con, but here, in this distorted version of reality, I was a soldier gearing up for battle. I had everything I needed: calcium carbide bombs, chlorine gas bombs, nitric acid for throwing, a lighter, water, gasoline, a flashlight, and a kitchen knife. 

I packed everything into my bag and slowly walked outside. The air was thick with an oppressive feeling, as if the world itself was holding its breath. In the distance, I saw them—numerous demons, one after another. Without hesitation, I hurled CaC2 bombs at several of them, watching as they writhed in agony on the ground, their distorted bodies convulsing.

One demon lunged at me, its eyes burning with malice. I splashed it with nitric acid, and its shape began to warp, as though its very essence was being eaten away. It was grotesque, but necessary—I was the savior, after all. I had to cleanse this place of its corruption. After a while, I had killed dozens of them, leaving a trail of destruction in my wake.

Some demons lay dead, while others were grievously wounded. But now, a dozen more surrounded me, their bodies emitting eerie lights and firing something like bullets with great speed and force. One hit me in the left shoulder. The bulletproof vest absorbed the impact, but the pain was maddening, radiating through my entire arm.

I tried to shake off the distracting thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me. I needed to focus, to respond to the horde of demons closing in. Quickly, I threw a chlorine gas bomb along with another CaC2 bomb, then ran, seeking cover.

"My target, the Hope Sanctuary Orphanage," I muttered to myself, realizing this was the epicenter of all the disaster. This place, once a supposed sanctuary, was the very hell where I had first been sexually assaulted—a place that should have been safe but had instead been a living nightmare. And now, these wretched demons.

This place was rotten to the core. It needed to be eradicated, completely wiped out, even though it had been abandoned for a long time due to a fire. To me, it still stood as a monument to my suffering.

I had to make it disappear. I climbed over the fence and poured gasoline around the building, setting it ablaze. As the flames roared to life, the bastard I had been waiting for appeared before me.

I grabbed a CaC2 bomb and hurled it at him immediately. Strangely, it didn't explode. Instead, he chanted something in a language I couldn't understand, and miraculously, the bomb stopped in mid-air. I understood then that my initial thoughts were correct: I had no chance against him in a straightforward confrontation.

But I wouldn't give up. I threw the chlorine gas at him, hoping it would cause him pain when inhaled or touched. My assumption proved correct; he might have magic, but his body was vulnerable like any other living creature. Seeing his distress, I threw two more CaC2 bombs. This time, the effects of the chlorine gas left him no time to react. I noticed another of his weaknesses: whenever he used magic, he had to chant that strange incantation.

That was my only advantage—I couldn't let him regroup. The realization hit me: the date was still July 21, 2012. That damn demon had been targeting me for a while, perhaps since the first day I went to school and met Mia. It might have been watching me from that damned orphanage because I stared at it in the morning. It might have gotten interested in me and followed me. That was the conclusion I reached based on my own hypothesis.

I tried to keep my distance, using every weapon at my disposal. "Damn it..." I muttered, realizing I had only one chlorine gas canister left and a knife. The demon was in a terrible state now, but it wasn't dead yet. I had to decide—use the chlorine gas or the knife. If I used the gas and it didn't kill him, I'd have no way out. But if I used the knife, I risked losing in a close fight. His body couldn't withstand these weapons, but he was still stronger than a normal human.

His right arm was nearly severed, and parts of his body had been blown away by the bombs, with his skin corroded by the acid. Seeing this, I thought of another tactic: why hadn't I used the lighter and gasoline? I hadn't used all of it to burn the building.

Realizing this, I quickly doused him with gasoline and threw a lit match. The flames engulfed him, and I watched from a distance. If he tried any magic, I would throw the chlorine gas and stab him. As he lay still, seemingly succumbing to the flames, I approached cautiously.

But once again, he deceived me. He had drawn a small magic circle on the ground while pretending to be in agony. Suddenly, the circle activated.

"Ignito Arcanorum!" the demon shouted, and a fiery explosion erupted towards me. My Hazmat suit offered some protection, but it wasn't fireproof. My right arm burned, and the suit was scorched. The chlorine gas was now too risky to use—I couldn't afford to expose myself to it with my injuries.

Desperate, I grabbed the knife and lunged at him. He moved quickly, biting into my left arm. The pain was indescribable, tearing through my flesh. My arm felt mangled, but I couldn't let that stop me. I threw the chlorine gas, lunging with the knife. My skin burned, the agony nearly blinding me. Tears welled up, but I didn't care. I had to take this demon down, even if it meant my life.

I stabbed him several times before he jumped back, throwing something at my gas mask. "Damn it! Why am I so unlucky?" I cursed, feeling the crack in my mask. A small crack, but enough to let in the chlorine gas. I pinched the crack and held my breath, running to hide behind a large pillar in front of the orphanage. The demon was approaching, its voice now a guttural growl, barely recognizable as speech.

My heart pounded in my chest, fear gripping me. I heard the demon trying to speak, its voice broken and distorted. It sounded less like a human and more like a beast, trying to mimic human speech. It terrified me to my core.

With only a knife left, I waited, my body tense. The demon walked past my hiding spot, and I lunged, stabbing it in the neck. I stabbed as hard and deep as I could, but it wasn't enough. Just before it could retaliate, a group of people arrived and attacked the demon.

Their fighting style was extraordinary. A woman wielded magic similar to the demon's, casting spells with precision. A burly dwarf delivered powerful blows with his fists, stronger than his appearance suggested. And then there was a man whose swordsmanship was mesmerizing. He moved with an elegance and precision that made the demon's flesh seem like paper. His blue eyes, focused and intense, captivated me.

I watched in awe as they subdued the demon. They captured it alive. What were they thinking?

"You have to kill it! It's too dangerous to live," I shouted, still reeling from the fight.

The woman looked at me, her expression a mix of pity and something colder. "Dangerous... dangerous, you say? Are you talking about yourself?" Her tone was calm, almost gentle, but it sent a chill down my spine. I didn't understand what she meant.

"What... what are you talking about?" I stammered, my mind spinning.

"You don't even realize it, do you?" she said, her gaze unwavering. "Never mind. We'll take you with us. There's much you need to understand." She gestured to the others, and they moved towards me. The swordsman approached, his face unreadable. Before I could react, he struck me with the hilt of his sword, sending me into darkness.

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When I woke up, I found myself in a sterile, white room. It was sparse, with only a bed and a small table. The walls were plain, the ceiling high. I sat up slowly, my head pounding. There was a large glass window on one side of the room, beyond which I could see several people watching me. They were taking notes, their expressions serious.

One of them, an older man with graying hair and a stern face, stepped forward. He spoke into a microphone, his voice echoing slightly in the room. "Elliot, do you know why you're here?"

I shook my head, still groggy. "No... I don't understand any of this."

He nodded, as if he had expected that answer. "You're here because you were under the influence of a powerful demon, Lucien Vortigern. He used illusion magic to manipulate your perceptions, making you see innocent people as demons. You were made to believe you were fighting monsters, but in reality, you attacked and killed innocent people."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "What? No, that can't be right! I was fighting demons... they were trying to kill me!"

The older man sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Lucien is a half-demon wizard who has been exiled from the Arcane Order. He delights in causing chaos and suffering. He targeted you because he saw potential in you—a potential he wanted to corrupt and use for his own ends."

I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. "So... everything I did... it was all...?"

"Yes," the man said gently. "You were under his control. He twisted your perceptions and made you believe that you were in another dimension, fighting demons. But you were still in your world, attacking your own kind."

Tears welled up in my eyes. The images of my supposed battles flashed through my mind, now horribly distorted. I had seen demons, but they had been people—innocent people. My mother, Mia, all those faces, now twisted into a gruesome reality. I had killed them. I had killed my own mother.

The man watched me carefully. "Lucien has been captured, and he's confessed to everything. But this isn't the end for you, Elliot. We believe you have a unique ability—a potential that Lucien saw and tried to exploit. We can help you understand and control it. We are The Guardians, an organization that protects the world from supernatural threats."

I looked at him, my vision blurred by tears. "Why... why would you want to help me? I've done terrible things."

"Because it wasn't your fault," the man said firmly. "And because you have the potential to do great good. We're offering you a chance to atone for what happened and to use your abilities for the right reasons. Will you join us?"

I hesitated, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on me. But then I thought of my mother, Mia, and all the people I had hurt. If I could somehow make up for what I'd done, even a little, I had to try.

"Yes," I said, my voice shaky but determined. "I'll join you."

The man nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Good. Welcome to The Guardians, Elliot. This is just the beginning. We have much to teach you."

As they escorted me out of the room, I felt a strange mixture of fear and hope. My life had been turned upside down, and I didn't know what the future held. But one thing was clear: I was no longer alone, and I had a purpose. I would do everything in my power to prevent others from experiencing the same pain and confusion I had. This was my second chance, and I wasn't going to waste it.

Thank you for reading until the end. This is my first work, and I hope you enjoyed it, even if just a little. If you liked it, please let me know; your encouragement would mean a lot to me.

For those who made it to the end, if you'd like to read more, please tell me. I can then hurry up and write the main storyline. But if there's no interest, I might just stop here and let this be my first and last work.

Anyway, thank you again for reading this piece. If you'd like to follow my work, you can find me on Twitch at Ricebrary or on Instagram at 1618120381251_191585147.