A Last Chance

Richard slowly reached into his right pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. The clock showed 23.47. There were 13 minutes left until the end of the scenario.

"So where are we going?"

"I don't know." Richard's voice was tired and heavy with frustration. The weight of his reckless mistakes weighed on him, mixed with the uncertainty of what the second phase would bring. He glanced in the rear-view mirror - no Faceless in sight. With a deep sigh, he eased off the throttle and turned right. As the tension in his shoulders eased slightly, he opened his inventory and pulled out a [Regeneration Potion M], offering it to Grace.

"Don't lie to me about being fine," he said quietly, smiling a little.

"You're hurt worse than you let on. Our son needs you, Grace. Drink this."

Grace, who had been leaning her head against the broken window, watching the road, turned to him.

"Oh, were you talking to me?" She reached for the bottle.

"Thanks." Her voice was incredibly drained.

Richard, still with one eye on the road, quickly glanced at her. Blood was trickling from her head and tiny shards of glass were embedded in her arms. She was probably covered in cuts all over. The strain of everything they'd just been through was etched into her face. He could feel the exhaustion settling in on him as well.

His mind raced with questions. 'What should I do next? Why didn't I see the second phase? How did I screw things up so badly?'

But the most pressing question was about Damian.

'What is this First Candidate thing about? And why was our son chosen? Why him?'

The uncertainty was eating away at him, but somehow, deep down, he felt he'd find answers eventually.

Right now, though, the only thing that mattered was how they were going to survive the next 10 minutes. His head was throbbing. He couldn't tell if it was from all the questions swirling around in his head, or from the fact that the Faceless had pulled his hair so hard it felt like it was being ripped out.

He took out a [Regeneration Potion S] from his inventory, opened the cap, and drank it.

‘I wonder if I'll even see tomorrow.’

.....

Grace took the drink from him and turned her head back to the window. Her head throbbed with pain. The pain pulsed to the rhythm of her heartbeat, a constant reminder of how rough things had got. She could feel the sting of the glass cuts on her arms, and she could feel the burn of the scrapes on her body, but none of it compared to the weight of everything that had just happened.

Her mind wandered as the world outside the shattered window passed in a blur. The red glow of the Blood Moon still cast an eerie light over the road, and in the car's silence, the only sound was the engine's hum and her heavy breathing.

She looked at the small bottle in her hand, about the size of a palm. The dark red liquid inside swirled gently. Her eyes focused on Damian, who was sitting on her lap, his bright crimson eyes looking around curiously. As if sensing his mother's gaze, Damian turned to her and began giggling and laughing. Grace couldn't help but smile as well when she saw her son. Even though she felt far from laughter at the moment, Damian's pure joy managed to break something inside her. For a brief moment, amidst all the chaos, she felt the peace of holding the most precious thing life had given her.

Her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to cry—sob, even. But she couldn’t. She looked at her husband, who was driving. He was focused, yet deep in thought. Tense, but at the same time, she could sense he was happy they were together. Like her, he was torn between the weight of their situation and the relief of still having each other.

As the cap clicked open, the rich, metallic scent of the potion filled the car. Grace hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Damian, who was now watching her every move with those unsettling, glowing red eyes. The innocence in his smile contrasted sharply with the chaos that surrounded them.

Richard stole a quick glance at her from the driver's seat, seeing that she hadn't drunk the bottle yet. "Grace, drink it. You need to heal."

Her fingers and arm trembled slightly due to wounds as she raised the bottle to her lips. The liquid was thick and tasted bitter, burning as it slid down her throat. Her face soured from the taste. Almost immediately, she felt warmth spreading through her body, a strange tingling sensation in her limbs as the cuts on her skin began to close and the pain in her head slowly eased.

But something else was stirring inside her.

Grace blinked, her vision momentarily blurred, her heart racing unnaturally. She wasn't sure if it was the potion or the stress of the night, but for a fleeting second, she felt as if something there was shifting. Something dark, almost primal.

Damian chuckled softly, his bright red eyes locking with hers again.

It was as if... he knew.

"Grace..." Richard's voice was barely a whisper, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.

"What is it?" Grace asked, sensing the change in his tone.

But before he could answer, a low growl echoed in the distance, cutting through the night like a warning. They were coming from everywhere.

And this time, both of their inner voices told them that the situation they found themselves in was far more dangerous than before.

Grace's eyes widened in terror, her heart pounding as if it would burst out of her chest. The Faceless Army, like a phantom emerging from the darkness, charged at her with the ferocity of wild beasts. The horrifying scene before her grew into an ever-expanding nightmare. The streets ahead resembled a graveyard, littered with lifeless bodies, severed limbs, and pools of dried blood. The air was thick with the stench of death, a suffocating fog of fear clinging to everything. Richard drove over the bodies scattered across the road, and each time the wheels rolled over them, the sickening crunch of bones sent shivers down their spines. The car shook violently with every bump and felt as if it might tip over at any moment.

"R-Richard... please... do something," Grace whispered, her voice cracking and almost inaudible with fear. The words caught in her throat as if they were the echo of an impending end. She turned her frightened eyes to Richard, but his gaze was fixed on the terrifying scene unfolding before them.

Richard's jaw was clenched, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. Despite everything, he pressed harder on the accelerator, pushing the car faster. The wheels struggled to maintain traction as they skidded over the bodies, making it harder to keep the car steady. But slowing down wasn't an option; their only chance of escape was to outrun the vicious horde closing in behind them.

The number of Faceless seemed to grow by the second, and the deadly swarm in pursuit refused to be left behind. Richard's mind echoed with the same grim thought - there was no end to this road, no respite. For a fleeting moment, as he glanced outside, it felt as if everything was coming to an end.

Yet despite the fear, his will to survive burned stronger.

"We need to go faster!" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.

He glanced at Grace, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared determination. Though fear filled their eyes, there was still a glimmer of hope, a belief that somehow they would make it through.

Amidst the chaos, Damian shifted slightly in Grace's lap, murmuring softly. She held him tightly, her protective instincts rising as her heartbeat quickened. The innocent child, oblivious to the terror surrounding them, rested safely in his mother's arms, unaware of the dark fate that loomed just outside.

Richard's eyes frantically scanned the road ahead. As he searched for any sign of escape, he noticed a narrow path opening through the chaos, like a tunnel amidst the carnage. It was their only way out.

"We have to go there," he murmured, a newfound determination taking hold. This narrow passage was their last hope - a chance to escape this dark army and leave the nightmare behind.

The narrow path seemed like salvation, a glimmer of hope in a sea of death and chaos. Richard's foot pressed harder on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response as the car hurtled towards the opening. The wheels continued to crush the remains scattered across the road, the sickening crunch increasing as they swerved to avoid larger debris. Grace clutched Damian tighter, her eyes darting between the horde behind them and the road ahead.

"We're almost there," Richard muttered as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else. They were still after them, their inhuman screeches echoing through the night, but the gap ahead seemed widening enough for them to escape.

But as they got closer, Richard's stomach sank. Something wasn't right.

The path that looked like a promising exit was suddenly closing in as if the ground was betraying them. More debris, wrecked cars, and fallen lampposts filled the narrow road, creating an impassable barrier. Worse still, from the shadows of the surrounding buildings, more Faceless were pouring out - dozens of them. The narrow alley now felt like a death trap, and it was closing in on them.

"Shit! No, no, no!" Richard slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as the car skidded to a halt just before hitting the pile of rubble. He cursed again as he realized there was no way forward. They were trapped.

"Richard, what do we do?!" Grace's voice cracked, panic rising as she looked around, her eyes wide with terror. Damian sensed the tension and began to squirm, whimpering softly in her arms, as if he was trying to calm her down.

Richard's mind raced. They were now closing in from all sides, their monstrous figures moving like shadows through the darkness. The horde behind them was only a few hundred meters away, and those in front of them were rapidly closing the gap. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out the distant sounds of the world around them.

He glanced over at Grace and Damian. He could feel their fear and desperation, which only fuelled his own. His hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. There was no way out.

They were relentless, their grotesque forms creeping closer by the second. The monstrous growl grew louder, and more menacing, and the glint of their cold, lifeless eyes sent shivers down Richard's spine.

"We... no. I fight," Richard finally muttered, the resignation heavy in his voice. He reached for his sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light of the car's dashboard. "I will fight and hold them off as long as I can."

Grace looked at him, her lips quivering, but she nodded, understanding the grim reality. There was no more running. This was it. The faceless horde was too big, too relentless.

The car shook violently as the first of the Faceless crashed into it. A creature climbed onto the roof, its fists pounding the metal. Another smashed its clawed hand through the rear window, its grotesque, featureless face peering in.

Richard kicked open the door and leaped out, sword in hand. His eyes locked on the nearest one and with a wild scream, he swung the blade. The sword sliced through the creature's torso, spraying blood into the air. But for everyone, he struck down, two more appeared in its place.

Grace scrambled out of the car, holding Damian close as she backed up against the vehicle. Her heart raced as the Faceless swarmed around them, their grotesque forms circling like predators ready to pounce.

"Stay close to me!" Richard shouted, cutting through another creature, but it was clear that the odds were against them. They were surrounded and the horde kept coming, a never-ending tide of death.

For a brief moment, Richard glanced at Grace and Damian, his resolve hardening. No matter what, he would protect them. Even if it meant fighting with his last breath.

The Faceless horde closed in and the darkness seemed to swallow them whole.