The Forsaken Destiny

Dawn came. The sun rose in the east, pushing back the darkness. Demons, afraid of the sun's burning light, dug small holes with their claws to hide under the city. They ran, their bodies disappearing as the sun got stronger. The air smelled of burning and smoke. You could hear their claws scraping as they ran.

Hunters and huntresses scanned the surroundings, watching the demons burn and vanish in the sunlight. Windows creaked open, revealing the sunrise—a promise of hope. The sun, their only weakness, consumed them. Fear of its light drove them.

A deep breath escaped me, the tension easing. "Sunrise means a new day," a smile slowly spreading, full of emotion.

Each day begins the same: dawn breaks, normalcy returns, and the night's terrors fade into temporary oblivion. Survival demands a daily battle against inner fears. Darkness descends, and the night becomes a realm of fear.

Claudia spoke, "Darcy, the sunrise brings such relief."

I looked at her. "I wish for the return of our normal lives, a life untouched by nightly demon attacks," I uttered, as we walked.

"I wish it would," Claudia whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow.

"Time fades, time heals—remember that quote?" I queried, drawing her gaze to mine.

"Yeah," she look to the sky, a spark of hope in her eyes, "and it means reality is often full of suffering and unfairness."

Our eyes met. "But things will be okay someday," we said together, our voices bright with a newfound energy, "we'll learn from our mistakes."

We tried to act normal, to be positive, despite the horror of the previous night.

We walked on, the streets a noisy mess of shouting and breaking glass. People fought, desperate, their children lost, killed by the demons. We couldn't blame them, but there was no time for blaming each other.

They needed help—doctors were here, medical aid available. People usually didn't care, but a crowd had gathered at their house. I didn't want to see the body, the brutal killing. I felt sorry for them, but the dead couldn't be brought back.

Further down the street, we saw teenagers our age, gliding on electric skate shoes. A boy, a familiar face from before the fall, glanced at me and skated over, grinning. Curly-haired, he loved skating this street with his friends. He'd been my playmate.

"Wanna try?" he urged, gesturing with his hand. "It's fun!"

"No, thanks," I replied, but he just smiled and skated back to his friends.

"Have fun!" I called, waving.

We headed toward a place people warned us away from. It felt familiar, pulling me. My mind felt… controlled, out of my control. I walked toward the place, its mysterious aura drawing me in, when Claudia touched my hand. I blinked, snapped back to reality.

"What happened?" I asked.

She looked at me, then at the place. "Now I know why they told us to stay away," she said seriously, her voice low. "It's dangerous." She pulled me away.

I froze, refusing to look back as we turned away. "Maybe that's where the apocalypse started," I muttered. Maybe my thoughts were right.

It was weird, uncomfortable. What was it about that place? My curiosity bothered me, but it was too dangerous. I wasn't risking my life for some strange mystery.

We retraced our steps, then turned left. Ahead, people raced in the few remaining advanced vehicles—survivors of the apocalypse. Even in daylight, the demons lurked, hidden underground.

A long road stretched before us, but it was a circle, broken in places, limiting travel. People huddled together, their whispered conversations echoing the night's terror.

"Too dangerous," one muttered.

"I panicked, didn't know what to do," another commented, her voice trembling.

An old woman sighed heavily. "I thought I was going to die, killed by those demons."

These were their daily thoughts, their daily fears in this broken city.

Darkness crept in, swallowing the light. Panic erupted; people ran to their homes. We ran, our own fear rising as the darkness consumed the last of the light. With only a sliver of daylight left, we threw open our door, slammed it shut, and locked it. Up the stairs we raced, slamming shut every window.

"We can't stay here," I told to Claudia, "but we have no choice."

"You were right," she agreed. "We need to hide in the cabinet," she stated, pointing.

As we approached, a growl ripped through the night, followed by heavy claws scraping the ground outside. Our eyes widened, our mouths fell open. We exchanged a look, then scrambled into the cabinet, slamming the door shut.

Tears welled in our eyes, and I saw the same fear reflected in others around us. From outside came the clash of swords, the sound of arrows, the crackle of electric guns.

My heart felt like it was being stabbed, a dagger driven into my chest. Tears streamed down my face, tearing at me like paper cut by scissors.

"What should we do?" Claudia mumbled.

"We should face our fears," I replied, clenching my fists, trying to be strong enough to face these fears inside me. "Let the tears fall. It's the only way to escape this fear."

Fear and tears wouldn't save us, but we couldn't help but feel them.

Our neighbors' screams cut through the air—desperate cries for survival. The clash of swords, the demon hunter battling demons, was followed by a deafening roar that slowly faded.

"Marcelene, distract them! Fire the electric gun!" Zylia yelled.

"I will!" Marcelene shouted back.

"Okay, let's do this!" Zylia declared, a superior laugh escaping her lips.

A loud jump, then more clashing swords. Closing my eyes, I imagined their fear, their screams, their fight against the demons. I wanted to help, but I couldn't. It wasn't cowardice; I simply lacked the strength.

Some fears were a desperate attempt to escape the darkness, to release the pain within. Some tears brought wisdom, strength; they were cries for help, for justice, for change. Some screams were requests for aid, for courage, for the chance to see another sunrise.