After the scream - 900 million universes left

In the creature before them, there was a certain beauty, a precision in its craftsmanship that could only be seen up close. It stood motionless. Like a statue. Like an automaton that had gone into standby mode. Like a creature pretending to be dead. In any case, it was a beauty with sharp, perfectly honed claws, which the man did not want to approach.

But even if he didn't intend to move a muscle, he could still film it. The man, who a few seconds ago had wanted to run for his life, hadn't even noticed that the idea had left his mind once the creature had approached. It seemed to emanate a magnetic charm that drew travelers to lose themselves in the dark cavities that served as its eyes. Perhaps the man would have lost himself in the contemplation of the unhealthy tableau before him.

Long, fine, and delicate claws that could undoubtedly induce a guilty pleasure just at the edge of reason when touched. Long legs, whose cold glow and fragile appearance gave the impulse to cherish them. And eyes. Magnificent eyes. Magnificently empty.

But his soul had trembled, and he had snapped out of his trance. Perhaps it had sensed the approach of death. In any case, the man had not emerged unscathed. Once the spell was broken, he began to cough violently. Fits of coughing so painful that the acrid smell of sulfur was now coming from his mouth and his screams echoed through the room. Jason had pulled a piece of cloth from his coat to give to him. He could have pulled him out of this malevolent attraction, but he didn't think it was a good idea. This interaction would make him aware of the extent of the constant danger he was in.

A Monarque's lair was not a place mortals should tread, and this non-lethal attack would subconsciously make him understand the only thing that mattered: he had to rely on them to survive.

Jason knew that to protect someone, the most important point was that the person wanted to be protected. And from the moment that emotion developed in someone, Jason would let nothing happen to them. He had vowed long ago to protect those in need, regardless of their social background, profession, or crimes. He hadn't kept that vow for a long time, but perhaps he would make an exception on this journey. Maybe he would save a life today.

Jason seemed to hear his heart beating for a brief moment before returning to his eternal calm. He would save only one life. One among the countless that populated the universes. Just a speck of dust in the vastness of this world. But one had to start somewhere. Once Jason made his decision, a portal opened to his right. If he had taken the time to look at it, he might have noticed that the white was less dull than usual. But he hadn't paid it any attention.

All his focus was on the staff he had extracted from the portal. A simple staff of rough-looking white wood. Despite the painful memories, maybe he had missed it. There was an almost intoxicating feeling of power once he held it in his hands. But he would only use a part of it today. While the man was kneeling on the floor coughing, Jason struck him with two quick blows to the chest with his staff. There was an aura of tyranny in his blows that nothing seemed able to stop, and the universe held its breath at the moment of impact. Yet the blow did not harm the man in the slightest.

He stood up, his eyes now wide open in surprise. He who had been suffering a few moments ago seemed completely healed. He scratched his head, reflecting aloud: "If this isn't paranormal, I don't know what is." In any case, the man undoubtedly had exceptional resilience and adaptability for a mortal. Barely out of death's door, he picked up his camera, which had fallen to the ground, to film the creature before them. He would have even circled it to film it from different angles if Jason hadn't restrained him with an iron grip before moving him a few meters away from the creature.

"You'll get sick if you stay near her too long," Jason explained in a low voice. There was surprise on the man's face, but above all an insatiable curiosity. After all, it was the first paranormal creature he had encountered, and he hoped to document its existence. He had been fascinated all his life by the paranormal, those phenomena without rational explanation, those urban legends that spanned the world.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

He had made it his profession to investigate these horrifying stories and try to unravel their mysteries so he could share them with others. He then asked Jason in a dubious tone:

"And how do you know this?

- Your condition a few moments ago was the result of this disease. I have healed you once, but if you insist on getting sick, I will not help you a second time."

Jason had lied while maintaining a neutral expression. He couldn't prove the existence of the aura to the man because simple mortals could not perceive it. The creature had been created by the Monarque. It therefore had residues of his aura that could petrify or make mortals sick if they got too close. If these residues had been even slightly more concentrated, the man would probably have died of a heart attack without even knowing what had happened to him.

He had also lied about the second part of his response. He had decided to protect him until Arden completed his mission and they left this place. He would let nothing happen to him in that interval, but he did not want the already courageous man to become reckless by feeling protected.

However, these words had the opposite effect. The man's gaze, filled with curiosity about the creature, doubled in curiosity as he turned back to Jason. A multitude of thoughts swirled in his head. If the man had healed him with his staff, didn't that mean he too belonged to the paranormal? And if the other man had managed to stop the creature, wasn't he a boss of the paranormal, an existence that even ghosts and other urban legends feared?

In his excitement, he turned to the man with the katana to ask him questions. However, his heart shuddered when he met his gaze. They were the same eyes that had looked at the creature: cold, disdainful eyes, as if their lives had no value.

'Dark, arrogant, and mysterious! This is undoubtedly the look of the boss!' the man thought, excited at the idea of being in the presence of a prominent figure in the paranormal. He had already relegated Jason to the position of underling in his mind, but he knew he would have a better chance of asking him questions than the big boss. With a bit of luck, he could even ask him questions about his boss to create the birth of a new legend: the legend of the mute man with a cold gaze who didn't even deign to draw his katana.

He would surely need to refine his story if he wanted it to interest the masses one day, but he had to first manage to get out of the Backrooms if he wanted to share it. After letting out a low growl, Arden resumed walking. He had come to kill his target and no one else. The creature before them was not his target, so he didn't care what happened to it.

Jason, on the other hand, decided to give it a light tap with his staff. He had removed the residues of the Monarque's aura from the creature with a simple gesture, giving the travelers of these so-called Backrooms a chance of survival, even though he felt that nothing would remain of this place after Arden's passage. He then resumed walking, the man following him closely with his camera on his shoulder. He began to ask him questions to flesh out the legend. He specifically asked their names, ages, whether they were human, and even what they did in life.

To all these questions, Jason could only answer two of them. For all the others, Jason didn't know the answer.

His name? Jason

His age? He had long stopped counting the years.

Was he human? He had lost his humanity the day he died.

What did he do in life? He didn't know.

Perhaps sensing Jason's morose mood after he asked these questions, the man fell silent. He then started filming the surroundings. Nothing had changed: the same old carpets gnawed by humidity, the same shades of yellow, and the same incessant buzzing of the lamps on the ceiling. They had been walking for an hour when they saw a change in the landscape. They arrived in a room that appeared like all the others. There were still the same shades of yellow on the walls, the same lamps on the ceiling producing their incessant noise, but the floor had changed. In the center of the room, there was a huge hole. It was a perfect rectangle, as if it were an integral part of the architecture.

Arden approached it without hesitation before jumping inside. Before the man could process what had just happened, Jason also jumped in. The man now found himself alone. The buzzing of the lamps on the ceiling hadn't changed but now seemed more oppressive. There was an eerie feeling about wandering alone inside the Backrooms that the man couldn't suppress. His mind might have played a trick on him, but it seemed he had heard the same inhuman scream that had come from the creature's mouth. Perhaps it had waited for the opportune moment to attack? The moment when the boss of the paranormal creatures would abandon him, leaving him defenseless.

In his terror, the man unconsciously took a step back. Unfortunately for him, there was only emptiness to welcome his foot. He instantly lost his balance and fell into the hole. The fall seemed to last an eternity, but in fact, he had only fallen a few meters. Before the man could regain his senses, he heard that same scream again but this time more clearly. It was a man's voice, a cry of agony distorted by terror. He could now hear his words.

"Is anybody here?!"