Elliot pushed the door open further, only to be met by a sharp yelp.
“Argh! My nose, goddammit!”
Elliot's eyes widened in recognition. That voice was unmistakable. The corners of his mouth tugged upward.
“Cham!” he exclaimed, spotting his friend in the familiar sky-blue hoodie and pants. Without hesitation, Elliot surged forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. For a moment, he shut his eyes, but when they reopened, something unexpected caught his attention.
The room was a mess.
Normally, Ren’s apartment was pristine, almost unnervingly so. Ren took pride in order and perfection in everything he did. Yet now, chaos reigned. Chairs were stacked haphazardly against the windows, clutter covered every surface, and the walls bore fresh streaks of unfamiliar colors. A disarray of plans dangled from the ceiling, and weapons were strewn across the sofa amidst a mix of hastily gathered food and drink supplies.
What struck Elliot the most, though, was the sight of Ren himself. His brother stood silently, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Ren’s usual calm demeanor had darkened into something more somber, his face lined with grim contemplation. He wore his usual attire—simple jeans and a white shirt layered with a button-down—but now both were splattered in stains: red, blue, and even green, seeping into the fabric like the remnants of a war he couldn't escape.
“Ren... What happened? Are you two alright?” Elliot blurted out before he could stop himself. His gaze flickered between Ren and Cham, his brow furrowed with concern.
Ren looked up slowly, his blonde hair falling slightly into his piercing azure eyes. For a fleeting moment, his melancholic expression softened into a weak smile.
“Elliot,” he said quietly, “I’ve been looking for you.”
Ren straightened, the weariness slipping away from his posture as if he had shaken off a heavy cloak. His eyes met Elliot’s directly.
“First, I tried to paint the apartment green, you know, my favorite color,” Ren gestured at the dried paint behind him, the once-vibrant hue now dull in the dim light. “But I knew I wouldn’t have enough time. I tried to call you, but every time, all I got was your voicemail...” He rubbed his cheek absentmindedly, smearing blue paint with his already-stained sleeve. “And then, when I couldn’t reach you, I thought something had happened. I went looking for you. That’s when things went wrong.”
Ren sighed, his voice hardening. “Monsters appeared. Real monsters. They tried to eat me alive, so I... sent them back to wherever they came from. Tried to help some others too, but…” His voice trailed off, and for a brief moment, sadness flickered in his eyes. “...They didn’t make it.” He gestured to his stained clothes, indicating the source of the red and blue streaks.
“After that, I rushed to a weapons shop, grabbed whatever I could carry. Got home. Found Cham here, but no sign of you.” His voice became pointed. “We fortified the place as best we could. Windows barricaded, only two ways in or out. And yet, no call. No warning. So now I have to ask: where were you, Elliot? Why didn’t you tell us the world was ending?”
Elliot stood frozen, guilt weighing on him like lead. Ren’s words cut deeper than any blade could. He had known his brother better than anyone, had seen him in every mood, every struggle. Ren was methodical, composed—even now, in the face of apocalypse. But beneath his carefully maintained exterior, Elliot could see it: the anger, the hurt. Ren’s faith in him had wavered, and it stung more than he’d ever admit.
Elliot’s gaze dropped. He couldn't meet Ren’s eyes. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I knew something was coming, but I... thought it would be fast. Bombs, maybe, or an asteroid. Not this.” He clenched his fists. “I didn’t want to worry you with my paranoia. I thought it would all pass, but now...”
Before Elliot could continue, Cham interrupted.
“Wait... Are you saying you had visions? Real ones? You could see the future?” Cham’s hazel eyes widened in disbelief, but then, almost immediately, he recoiled. “No, sorry, that’s crazy. But if it’s true... What happens next?”
Elliot sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I haven’t had any clear visions that show what’s coming. But before everything went dark, there was a broadcast. It claimed the Earth... it’s a prison. A pen for humans. That beyond our world, we’re just entertainment, slaves. And now... they’ve unleashed these things on us—zombies, monsters—to watch us suffer.”
Ren’s cold eyes remained unreadable, though something flickered in their depths as he listened.
Elliot continued, his voice low. “I saw one of them. Not a zombie—something worse. It didn’t have a face. It was bulletproof, and it... it tore through someone’s body like they were nothing.”
The memory made him shudder, but he left out the most horrifying details, sparing his brother and Cham from further terror. Cham, meanwhile, was wide-eyed, hands running through his disheveled brown hair as he processed the news. His breaths came faster, panic creeping in.
But Ren remained unmoved, eerily calm. His gaze lowered to the green tarp covering the floor as if in deep thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, but resolute.
“I believe you.”
The simple statement hit Elliot like a wave, easing the burden on his chest. For a moment, despite everything, he felt lighter.
Thump! Thump!
Suddenly, indistinguishable screams erupted from nowhere, accompanied by bodies crashing relentlessly against the door.
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Thump! Thump!
Again and again! Without hesitation, Ren and Elliot dashed toward the sofa, reaching for their weapons. Their pulses raced as if they were engaged in extreme sports. Cham stood perplexed in the hallway, near the door. Elliot gripped a loaded Colt 1911 in his hands, its polished steel frame gleaming as he held it poised, waiting for the door to burst open. In contrast, Ren seized a Beretta 92FS—matte black, elegant, and modern—holding it with the same determination.
Tension filled the air as the two brothers stood ready, weapons drawn, while Cham rushed toward them to grab his own. Just then, the securely fastened door burst open like a bullet shot from a gun aimed at Cham. In an instant, the heavy door slammed against his back, sending him sprawling to the floor, blood streaming from the impact as severe bruises formed. Elliot's eyes widened in shock, his grip on the weapon loosening.
“Cham!” Elliot exclaimed, dumbfounded and on the verge of rushing to his friend, nearly dropping his Colt 1911, but Ren quickly halted him with a firm grip. “Get a grip, Elliot! You can’t save him; you need to shoot now!” With tears in his eyes, Elliot steadied himself, gripping his weapon tightly, the veins in his arms prominent as he clenched his teeth. Ren pressed down the safety lever on the upper left side of Elliot's Colt 1911 with one hand while doing the same on his Beretta 92FS with the other.
Both brothers, brows furrowed and eyes glassy, focused on Cham before swiftly turning toward the source of the flying door. Two zombies emerged, small black spikes protruding from their joints, their bodies infested with maggots and festering wounds. Azure blue blood oozed from them.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Deafening shots erupted from Elliot, while metallic sounds rang out from Ren’s weapon. After only a few shots fired at the zombie-like creatures, the brothers watched in wide-eyed horror as the creatures were merely pushed back, much like they were from the recoil. The undead continued their advance toward Cham's motionless body, more crimson blood pooling around him on the floor and tarp.
An annoying hissing sound reached Elliot and Ren's ears, accompanied by a wave of dizziness washing over them. Elliot felt a pressure building in his head as he pressed his hands against his ears, noticing fresh red blood on his fingers. Yet this realization was overshadowed by another presence. A chill coursed through Elliot as he raised his weapon again, trembling slightly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
But the bullets bounced off as if they were nothing more than toys! “Damn it!” Elliot screamed, continuing to fire.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Click!
A wave of goosebumps swept over Elliot’s body as he saw Ren staring vacantly ahead, equally devoid of a plan—it seemed utterly hopeless! In a fit of desperation, Elliot hurled his Colt 1911 at the faceless creature, but the bullets ricocheted off as if the gun were aimed at nothing more than a child’s toy. “Fuck you, you damned beast! Fuck you, you filthy whore!” he screamed with all his might, his voice rising above the chaos, yet he could barely hear himself over the din.
After inhaling deeply, he raised his gaze to confront the creature once more. It stood there, grinning—no mouth, no nose, no eyes—but the malevolence was palpable. It took a step closer toward Elliot and Ren but paused, pivoting to face Cham, who lay motionless, a grim plaything for the two zombies looming over his lifeless body.
Elliot and Ren's eyes followed the creature’s movement, horrified as it turned Cham's head toward them. The lifeless brown eyes they had seen countless times—on the playground at school or just recently while watching movies—now appeared void of life. Tears mingled with the deep crimson blood, creating a ghastly blend that trickled down Cham's face.
Arggjjakkha–Argghhakhaghakha–Khaghakghahah!
The sound waves emanated from the creature, reverberating in the air like a haunting melody. A cold wind swept through the brothers’ blonde hair, and Ren's azure blue eyes widened in shock as they reflected horrifying images, each one a reminder of the pain twisting inside him. Elliot felt an overwhelming grief wash over him, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes as the brothers gritted their teeth, fists clenched tightly. They could do nothing but watch as the zombies and the faceless creature reveled in their gruesome sport, laughing with unrestrained delight.
The faceless entity laughed and laughed, casting glances toward the two brothers, their faces twisted in horror. Its laughter grew more sinister as it approached Cham's mangled remains, smiting the dismembered limbs with a flat hand—starting with an arm, then the head, and finally the legs. It turned once more to relish the sight of Elliot and Ren, deriving joy from their expressions of terror.
Finally, it seized Cham's head and dashed toward the brothers, holding it by the hair and swinging it back and forth with a triumphant grin plastered across its featureless face. Crimson blood dripped slowly from the severed head, its pallor stark against the white of the faceless creature.
Then, with chilling intent, the creature brought the head close to its own, holding it before its non-existent face, and spoke in a disturbingly familiar voice: “Desecrate his corpse. Play as much as you wish, but leave something for me to eat.”Elliot and Ren's eyes widened in horror—there was no mistaking that voice. It belonged to Cham! “You damned monster! What have you done? Stop it!” Elliot shouted, his thoughts pouring out without restraint.
As the brothers struggled to comprehend the nightmare before them, the faceless creature turned around to reveal Cham standing alive before them, but with a grotesque grin and laughter that echoed the chilling mockery of the faceless being. “What have I done? Hehe.” Cham toyed with his own hair, brown locks cascading down his shoulders, yet he bore an unsettling expression. “I’ve transformed into his shape, what else? Hehe! I’ve been here for years; many of my brothers and sisters have been here for dozens. But we’ve been living among you since the dawn of your existence.”
The creature's laughter drowned out the sounds of gunfire from moments before, leaving the brothers' hearing slightly impaired as they struggled to process the scene unfolding before them. The shapeshifter continued to cackle, tossing Cham's head like a bowling ball in their direction, their shock deepening as they beheld the faceless visage that mirrored Cham’s features.
Elliot caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye—the zombies had begun to gnaw at the remnants of Cham’s body, dismembering him further, feasting on every imaginable wound. Overcome by horror, Elliot clamped his hands over his mouth, but it was no use. He doubled over, retching onto his hands, only to pull them back and stain the ground with his vomit.
“You’re supposed to leave something for me, you lowly blood!” the shapeshifter jeered, striking the zombie-like creatures and dispatching them with ease, their heads rolling away in an instant. “Pardon my interruptions.”
Its grin widened impossibly. “Now, let’s see what I should do with you. Eat you? Enslave you? Or perhaps sell your crimson flesh? Hehe.”As the creature advanced toward them, still wearing its ghastly smile, Elliot suddenly felt a sharp blow to the side of his head, sending him sprawling to the ground as he watched Ren crash against the wall.
…
“Arghhh! It hurts!” Elliot lamented inwardly, unable to open his mouth. He found himself alone in a dark room, surrounded by an impenetrable void. Pure darkness! Damn it, where am I?! Is Ren okay?!
After what felt like hours of waiting, Elliot heard voices in the distance. A blue light streamed into the dark room, yet he couldn’t shield his eyes from its glare, forcing them to squint shut. A rough male voice grew louder, approaching him.
“This one’s Red Blood—the lowest existence and thus the weakest here in Elisia and throughout Hemorion…”