The night stretched on in eerie silence, broken only by the occasional crackling of the dying fire. The survivors had long since retreated into uneasy sleep, their bodies worn from relentless struggle.
Asher sat by the cliff's edge, silver hair damp with cold sweat, staring out into the abyss below. The Dark Trench yawned beneath them like a bottomless maw, its black waters still as death. It was a void that had claimed many before them, a place whispered about in fear—a graveyard of the forgotten. The wind howled across the cliffside, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and something else... something foul. Decay. Rot. Death.
Beside him, Jeremy stirred in his sleep.
The glow of the embers cast soft shadows over his features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the delicate curve of his red lips. His auburn hair was tousled from exhaustion, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. His arms were crossed over his chest, trying to hold in whatever warmth the night allowed. His breath was slow, steady, a quiet rhythm in the dark.
Asher found himself staring longer than he should have.
Something inside him ached. A yearning.
Jeremy had always been just out of reach, a dream he had never dared to chase. But here, in the middle of this nightmare, he was close enough to touch.
Close enough to—
A sound shattered the fragile calm.
A distant, unholy screech—long, guttural, and filled with hunger.
Asher's blood turned to ice.
Then came another. And another.
The shrieks echoed through the sky, growing louder, closer, until the entire night seemed to tremble under the weight of the impending horror.
Jeremy jolted awake, his ember eyes wide with alarm.
"Asher?" he whispered, voice groggy with sleep.
Asher didn't respond.
He was frozen, watching as shadows moved in the sky—huge, grotesque figures gliding over the darkness, their wings blotting out the stars.
The horrors had come.
The wind howled as the first beast descended.
It was enormous, nearly the size of a house, its leathery wings torn and stretched unnaturally wide as it circled above. Its skin was a sickly, pulsating gray, as if something lived beneath its surface, shifting, writhing. Its face was a grotesque mockery of humanity—elongated into a nightmarish grin, its hollow eyes dripping black ichor that burned the earth where it fell.
Then, with a terrible shriek, it dove.
The survivors barely had time to react.
Gideon roared, grabbing his rusted sword and swinging as the creature crashed into the ground, its clawed limbs raking through the dirt. It let out a piercing screech as Gideon's blade sliced through its wing—but instead of blood, a thick black mist oozed out, vanishing before it hit the ground.
"It's not dying!" Gideon bellowed.
Malek was already moving, barking orders.
"Run!"
"They can't be killed! We have to get out of here!" Nerrisa screamed.
But it was too late.
More of them landed with sickening thuds, their wings folding against their twisted forms. The air was filled with the scent of sulfur and rot.
Then one of them grabbed Celia.
Its elongated fingers sank deep into her arms, lifting her off the ground as she let out an ear-piercing wail. Her body convulsed violently, and before anyone could reach her—
It tore her apart.
The sound of ripping flesh and snapping bone filled the air as her remains fell in a limp, twitching heap.
Asher gasped.
His breath hitched, his vision blurring with shock. He barely had time to process the horror before another creature struck.
This time, Felix.
He tried to dodge, but the thing moved faster than sight. Its clawed hand plunged into his stomach, black tendrils wrapping around his torso like serpents. Felix let out a choked, gurgling sound—his eyes rolling back.
Then—
A sickening crunch.
The creature snapped his body in half.
It tossed him aside like discarded meat.
Jeremy gagged.
Asher grabbed his wrist, fingers tightening.
"We have to run. We have to run. We have to—"
The words choked in his throat. How many times had they run? How many times had they barely escaped death, only for it to find them again?
Jeremy's grip on him tightened.
"Asher, now!"
They ran.
The screams of the others faded behind them as they bolted for the cliff's edge—the only escape. But the creatures were faster. They were gaining.
A gust of wind slammed into Asher's back.
A shadow loomed.
A monster lunged.
Asher barely managed to duck, but the force of the attack sent him and Jeremy stumbling dangerously close to the precipice.
And then—
One of the creatures swooped down with terrifying speed, its grotesque mouth stretched unnaturally wide—ready to devour them whole.
There was no time to think.
Jeremy grabbed Asher's hand—
And jumped.
The world tilted violently.
Wind roared past their ears.
The storm above howled, the chaos above turning into a blur as they plunged into the abyss.
Their bodies collided—
And then—
Their lips met.
It was an accident. A moment of sheer chance.
But for a split second—
The chaos disappeared.
Jeremy's lips were warm, firm yet soft against his. The scent of him—salt and sweat and something unmistakably him—flooded Asher's senses.
His heart thundered.
Not from fear.
Not from the fall.
From something else.
Then—reality came crashing back.
They were still falling.
Jeremy jerked back, eyes wide, his face flushed even in the dim light.
"Asher—what the—?!"
But there was no time to react.
The sea loomed beneath them—an endless stretch of black water.
They hit the surface with bone-crushing force.
The cold was instant. Merciless.
The abyss swallowed them whole.