A pitch black room, a darkness so prevalent one could easily believe it be an endless void.

A lack of sound that would cause a mind to create its own noise to retain a modicum of sanity.

An non-existent ‘tick, tock’, a countdown.

Light pours in, desiring to fill every nook and cranny with its splendor as a door bursts open with a force threatening to cleave it from its hinges and in rushes a teenager, a young man, with a blemushless face and a hidden maturity. Behind his straight black hair lay two deep green eyes, a ‘dark emerald’ his mother called them. These eyes he knew were his most prominent feature were also a symbol of his blood, his inheritance.

His breath heaved as he frantically slammed the door closed behind him, leaning heavily against it, using every ounce of his strength, mental and physical, to keep the door from opening.

For a moment, silence reigned once more and darkness swallowed the previous light. The ‘tick, tock’ becoming more real by the second. The boy braced himself as the heavy pounding of footsteps, mimicking his heartbeat, approached the door. A tense moment passed before being quickly followed by a crazed impact against the door, he felt his bones creaking at the force but he refused to give, knowing that allowing the beast in would result in a consequence far worse than exertion.

The beast assaulted the door once more. Failing to break through, it let out a low growl of dissatisfaction having expected its prey to fall easily.

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And then, nothing. The boy held the door in its position for minutes, pure terror being his motivator, before finally allowing himself to relax slightly. He did not dare open the door, so instead he used the door for balance and slowly placed his ear on its rough, unnaturally dark oak hoping to glean some sort of clue as to the condition of the outside world.

A furred claw barreled through the door next to his head, the reflexes that had been beaten into him over the years kicking in as he leapt with all his might in the opposite direction preparing to flee, or fight, if truly necessary. Alas, after the bestial claw retreated slowly through the shredded door there was no follow up. Knowing there was nowhere to escape to the boy had no choice but to edge closer to the door. He took it step by agonizing step, having to force himself more with each inch closer to the door, only reaching it after what he felt was an eternity. He peeked through the hole in the door, seeing nothing he released a sigh of relief he did not know he was holding before hanging his head against the door.

Not even a second after a deep, ancient voice resounded throughout his skull and his head shot back up coming eye to eye with a green orb similar to his own, and yet not.

“Run Little one, for I am inescapable, I flow in your veins and lurk in your bones, ever on the periphery.”

The previously ethereal ticking of a clock suddenly boomed in his head as it struck 12 and his eyes bolted open, now staring at the high ceiling of his bedroom in the family mansion. Panicked and coated in a layer of sweat his sharp, shallow breaths slowly eased and a thought popped into his mind:

Today was the day, the day of the Turrim Tenebris.