My name is Caroline Bruneforth. I'm 15 years old and currently lost in a hostile world, looking for my father.

It all started about a week ago. I just got up from bed and went about my day. I live alone with my father in our family’s estate, a pretty old mansion that was probably from the Victorian era. The type of estate where you can hear the wooden floor crank like cicadas each time someone takes a step. I went to the bathroom, one of the few places in the house that actually looked modern, with running water and all, and just took my morning steaming hot shower.

After leaving the shower, it was time to get dressed to school, so I just grabbed my usual uniform: a white shirt with a blue neckpiece, a big, red tie and a blue miniskirt, which my father absolutely hated seeing me using, calling it “One of the factors for the perversion of our youth!”.

While getting ready for school, I decided to say hi to my dad, who usually would be in his study at this time of day, so after putting on my black stockings and shoes, i went downstairs, where his study was located.

That mansion really gave me the heebie jeebies. It was completely made out of an ebony wood, giving the place almost like a fairytale feel to it. The architecture was something I've never seen anywhere else; a mix of the gothic larger than life towers, ceiling and roof, with the wall design of an average victorian aristocratic home. The main hall had an octagon design, with its massive walls having multiple glass glazings near the top where they meet the ceiling, making the room look like a massive chapel converted into a house.

After commuting through that dimly lit hall, feeling the fluffy carpet below my feet sink to the shape of my footprints, trying to avoid looking at the multiple knight statues with strangely shaped armor on each side of the room, I finally got to the round double door that led to my father's study.

As usual, the old man was sitting on his black leather armchair, reading a book while smoking a cigar.

“Good morning, Father.” I spoke, in a respectful manner.

“Ah, Caroline! Good morning, my dear. It’s almost time for school, so you better eat something before you leave.” He waved at me, which was a signal for me to approach him.

My father was quite an unconventional man. Despite likely being in his late 40s, he appeared no older than 30. He styled his vibrant, red hair into a neat ponytail that rested at the back of his head. His face possessed a notable size, featuring a strong jawline reminiscent of a bodybuilder's. Adding to his distinctive appearance, he sported a long, thick crimson beard that wouldn't have been out of place on a nobleman from the 1700s. In stark contrast to my father's fascination with days long gone, I, on the other hand, was just an ordinary high school girl.

“My child, there is something I would like to give you.”

He took out a pocket watch from the opening of his coat. It was a gorgeous golden watch with the name “Caroline” engraved in it.

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“D-Dad, are you sure? it looks pretty expensive.”

“It was from your mother, I just got it back after paying for your name to be engraved on the back.”

“I won’t be here to protect you forever. A day will come where you’ll leave the safety of these insulated walls and get stronger, so when that day comes, you can trust this pocket watch to help you.”

I smiled and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, father.”

“That almost sounds like an item from one of your novels, all this “help you get stronger” stuff.”

He gave me a light chuckle. “I guess you got me there!”

My father was a renowned fiction writer. His main series, ‘Crimson Angel’, is about this poor farm boy stuck in a borderline apocalyptic world where everything's messed up – there's not enough food, monsters everywhere, and this brutal war between heaven and hell is going down, which has already ravaged half of the population. Definitely a place I’m happy I wasn't born in. So, this boy hits the road, slashing monsters for cash, and guess what? He ends up going from nobody to the ultimate hero everyone's raving about. Unrealistic? Yeah. Cliché? Maybe… But it’s at least pretty entertaining if I do say so myself.

“So… When are you finishing it?”

“You know that I'm on a writer’s block.”

“Yeah… You’ve been saying that for the last 7 years…”

"Crimson Angel” was never finished. My father wrote around 10 books, but guess what? The last one, the kickoff to the big finale, cuts off right in the middle of a cliffhanger! The demon king shoves the hero into what he dramatically calls a 'godless realm.' That was 7 years ago, in the tenth book.

Fast forward to the present and Dad hasn't even started writing the eleventh book. He says that the reason for that is the so-called “Writer’s block” of his. But I think he just got sick of it, and after 10 books, each with around a thousand pages, can you really blame the man?

“Alright alright, smartass. I can feel the ideas starting to flow again!”

“Really!?”

“Yes! And they’re saying…………” he closed his eyes, and placed his fingers on his forehead.

“It’s Saying………..Get…..Your……Ass………To……School!”

“Alright. See ya later, dad!” I grabbed the watch and placed it inside my uniform’s pocket, heading out of our mansion.

My school was shaped like a massive white cube, as if it was thoroughly designed to be as boring and uninteresting as possible. With its symmetrical rectangular windows and gray concrete floor.

“Great, my faaaaavorite time of the day….” I sighed, going Inside the treacherous building.

A few hours later, time had finally come for the last class of the day, English. While completely ignoring the English lecture, my eyes were drawn to the window, where it was possible to see my family estate from afar. A bright, blue beam descended into the backyard, which made me jump on my seat. My eyes narrowed and couldn’t avert my gaze from it. The trance was short-lived as the school siren brought me out of it.

I Immediately ran out of the school and got on the first bus I could. My hands were trembling with anticipation as that bus ride seemed never ending.

I didn’t waste time and jumped out of the bus the moment it arrived at my destination.

I barged inside the mansion, where something clearly happened. The furniture and decorations were either broken or on the floor. The fluffy carpet showed footprints that led to the backyard, the place hit by the blue beam.

Sprinting towards it, my eyes went wide as I saw two massive figures, about 6 and a half feet, wearing dark metal armor with horns coming out of their helmets, dragging my unconscious father into some sort of wide, blue portal, exuding that blue beam into the sky.

“D-DAAAADD!!” I shouted as my body took action on it’s on, running inside the portal without even thinking twice.

The last thing I heard before everything went black was my dad’s voice.

“CAROLINE! THE WATCH!”

“The…Watch….” I rambled, still half asleep, but with a surge of energy I quickly went back into my senses.

“DAD!”

But nobody came. In fact, I found myself lying down inside a crater. A massive hole the size of a football field.

“What.. The hell?” I said, while getting up. 

And with that, the struggle to find my father began.