The Cruel Horizon[Old]

The door groans as Obinai eases it open, the sound like a dying man's last gasp. What was once the lobby now resembles a bomb site—chunks of ceiling dangle by exposed rebar, drywall dust snowing down onto overturned furniture. Sunlight bleeds through a massive gash in the exterior wall, illuminating floating particles of debris that catch in Obinai's throat.

Through the jagged opening, the city burns.

A twisted I-beam juts skyward like a broken bone. Flames lick at the husk of an overturned delivery truck. The stench of molten asphalt and scorched metal coats his tongue.

CLICK

He shuts the door too fast, his spine pressing against the peeling paint as if he could physically block out the nightmare. Mya's small hand finds his, her fingers ice-cold despite the heat.

"Everything's fine," he lies, forcing his mouth into the same fake smile he used when explaining why Amos missed another recital. His voice cracks like cheap plaster. "Just gotta keep moving."

Mya's eyes—too knowing—search his face. "Obi..."

"Promise." The word tastes like ash. I used to fantasize about not existing. Now the thought of leaving her alone in this hell makes my ribs crack open.

He nudges her forward softly. "Stick close, yeah?"

Mya doesn't answer. Just squeezes his pinky finger twice—their secret signal since she was five.

Still here.

Still together.

For now.

With her clutching at his shirt as they move forward, Obinai leads the way, his injured leg dragging slightly with each step, but he forces himself onward.

As they near the shattered remains of the front desk, something catches Obinai's eye—a splash of dark red against the pale rubble. He freezes mid-step. Beneath a pile of broken plaster and splintered wood...

...a leg.

Still wearing those polished dress shoes Mr. Thompson buffed every morning. The fabric of his uniform pants is torn where jagged rebar spears through flesh.

Obinai's throat clenches like a fist. His grip on Mya's hand becomes vice-tight.

"Why'd you stop?" Mya tugs at his arm, her sneaker kicking a chunk of drywall.

He shifts instantly, broad shoulders blocking her view. The smile he forces feels like a death rictus. "Path's messed up here."

Mya cranes her neck. "You're being—"

"Look at the exit!" He points too fast. Sunlight pours through the shattered wall ahead, painting the debris in gold. "Almost there. Just watch your step."

Her eyes narrow. "You're lying."

A drop of sweat slithers down Obinai's spine. Mr. Thompson's wedding band glints amidst the rubble.

He always showed us pictures of his grandkids.

Mya lunges sideways—

"NO!" Obinai yanks her back, spinning her away. Her small frame collides with his chest.

"Let GO!" She squirms, fists pounding his ribs. "What are you—"

Then she smells it.

The fresh scent of death.

Her struggles cease.

Obinai expects screams. Tears.

Instead, Mya goes terrifyingly quiet.

"...Oh," she whispers.

Obinai swallows bile. "Eyes forward," he murmurs into her hair. "Just a little further."

Mya nods once.

They step over the wreckage together.

Neither looks back.

The light grows brighter, spilling over them and casting long shadows against the crumbling remains of the lobby. The sounds of the chaotic outside grow louder.

"Careful here," Obinai murmurs as they step over a twisted piece of metal. His eyes dart around, scanning for any movement, any sign of danger.

Mya's hand shakes in his grasp. "It's so bright out there," she whispers.

"That's a good thing," Obinai replies. "It means we're heading in the right direction."

Mya nods silently, her wide eyes fixed on the bright daylight ahead.

Obinai glances at Mya. They'll be okay, he tells himself, forcing the thought to steady his own trembling hands. Mom and Dad are out there. They have to be. We're going to find them. Together.

He adjusts his grip on her hand, guiding her carefully around a large shard of glass embedded in the floor.

The eerie silence around them seems to deepen with each step, the ruined landscape pressing in closer. The faint glow of emergency lights from behind them flickers one last time before vanishing completely, leaving them bathed only in the cold daylight from outside.

The quiet is suffocating, a stillness so profound that Obinai can hear the soft rasp of Mya's breath and the uneven pounding of his own heart. Every creak of the building's battered structure feels amplified.

"Obi," Mya whispers, her voice barely audible. "Do you think—"

"They're fine," Obinai cuts her off, more sharply than he intended. He softens his tone quickly, squeezing her hand as they step closer to the opening. "They're smart, Mya. They'll find us. We just have to keep moving."

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His own words feel hollow, barely convincing even himself, but he clings to them like a lifeline. His mind flashes with memories of his mother's determined gaze, his father's better moments. They're safe. They're out there somewhere, waiting for us.

The opening is only a few steps away now, the outside world tantalizingly close. But as they near it, Obinai's gut twists with unease. The bright light ahead doesn't elate him, and the silence feels too deliberate...as if the world is holding its breath.

Now to to convince her to lea—

A new sound slices through the stillness—a low, rhythmic thumping, faint at first but growing steadily louder. Obinai freezes mid-step, his blood running cold.

"Do you hear that?" Mya asks, her voice trembling.

Obinai nods, his body tense as he scans the opening ahead and the shadows behind them. "Stay close," he says quietly, his voice firm but low. His arm instinctively moves in front of her, shielding her as the thumping grows louder, reverberating through the floor beneath their feet.

"What is it?" Mya whispers, clutching his arm.

"I don't know," Obinai replies, his voice tight as his eyes dart around the ruined lobby. It's too close. Whatever it is, it's too close. His chest tightens with dread, but he forces himself to think past the fear. Mom and Dad. They're out there. They have to be.

The thumping becomes deafening now, each impact shaking the crumbling walls around them. Dust rains from the cracks above, and the metallic groan of the weakened structure fills the air. Obinai tightens his grip on Mya's hand, pulling her slightly behind him.

"Mya," he says, his voice steady despite the tremor in his legs. "When I say run, you run. Got it?"

"But—"

"No arguing," he cuts her off, his tone firm but not unkind. He crouches slightly, placing himself between her and the direction of the sound. "Stay behind me. Don't look back."

The source of the noise steps into view. Light bends around its form as it steps forward, revealing nightmare flesh.

Pale. Too pale. Like something drowned and left to bleach in the sun.

Blood streaks its elongated limbs—some patches rust-brown and flaking, others glistening fresh. A vicious burn mars its side, the scar tissue forming twisted symbols that throb with faint light.

Then—

SHHHHKKKTTT

Six wings erupt from its back, the sound like a hundred knives unsheathing at once. Metallic feathers glint as they flex, twitching with unnatural spasms.

Mya's fingers dig into Obinai's arm hard enough to bruise. "O-Obi..." Her voice is a mouse squeak.

The creature's head tilts. Golden eyes—pupils dilated—pulse with rhythmic light. Thump. Thump. Like a heartbeat.

Obinai's mouth goes desert-dry. His pulse hammers so loud he's certain the thing can hear it.

"We're okay," he whispers...

The creature takes another step. Its wings shudder. A drop of black fluid spatters the tile, sizzling where it lands.

Have to get her away.

Its head, void of a mouth or nose, is covered with countless eyes—small, beady, and frantic. They shift and flicker independently, scanning every inch of the room in a chaotic frenzy, each one darting to a new angle as though searching for something unseen.

Obinai's arm stretches protectively in front of Mya as he stares at the creature. What is that? Why does it look like…? The thought dies as the creature freezes, its many eyes snapping to focus directly on them.

"Mya," he says softly, his voice strained, "get ready."

Mya doesn't answer, her small hands gripping his shirt tightly as she peeks out from behind him.

The creature's gaze is oppressive, its multitude of eyes boring into them. Obinai's legs feel like they might give out under the weight of its stare, but he doesn't move. His mind screams at him to think, to act, but all he can do is stand there, frozen.

Then, with a sudden, fluid motion, the creature's hand rises. Obinai flinches as something gleams in its grasp, catching the dim light in the ruined lobby. Mya gasps, her hand trembling as she points.

"What is that…?" her voice wavers, barely audible.

Obinai glances quickly, his stomach twisting violently as he realizes what the creature is holding. In its bloodied hand are two severed heads, the lifeless faces of Amos and Maria staring back at him. Amos's glasses hang crooked on his lifeless nose. Maria's lips are parted in a final, unfinished word. Blood drips from their severed necks, each drop hitting the concrete with a sound like a ticking clock.

"No," Obinai whispers, the word barely forming as his throat tightens. "No, no, no…"

Mya's gasp becomes a choked sob. "Obi…" she cries.

The creature moves again, its grotesque grace making Obinai recoil.

The creature flicks its wrist.

The heads thump onto the ground, rolling like grotesque marbles. Amos's comes to rest at Obinai's feet, those familiar brown eyes—always so tired—now glassy and staring through him.

Mya's scream shreds the air. She collapses backward, her spine hitting the rubble with a crunch. "NO NO NO!" Her tiny fists yank at her own hair, her legs kicking like she's trying to scramble away from her own skin.

Obinai's vision tunnels. Tears burn down his face. His lungs refuse to work right—each inhale too sharp, each exhale a shudder.

They were supposed to be safe. We were going to find them. This isn't—

His legs tremble, threatening to buckle, but he forces himself to stay upright. The creature's gaze doesn't waver, its beady eyes still locked on them. Obinai wipes at his face, the tears mixing with the grime on his skin.

"Mya," he chokes out. "Look at me."

She doesn't respond, her sobs growing louder.

"Mya!" he says again, louder this time. He crouches next to her, gently pulling her arms away from her face. Her tear-streaked eyes meet his...

"I'm here," he says shakily, gripping her shoulders. "Look at me. Don't look at them. Just at me. We're going to get through this, okay?"

She whimpers, but she's listening. Barely. Obinai pulls her into his chest, shielding her view from the heads.

Behind him, the creature shifts, its wings spreading slightly as the sound of its movement fills the ruined lobby. Obinai tenses, holding Mya tighter. His mind races, the image of his parents' lifeless faces seared into his memory, but he pushes it aside. I have to protect her. I have to keep her safe. If I stop now, we're both dead.

Slowly, he stands, pulling Mya up with him. His voice is low but firm as he whispers in her ear, "When I say run, you don't stop. You hear me? Don't stop, no matter what."

Her hands clutch his tightly, her nod almost imperceptible. Obinai's eyes flicker to the creature, its many eyes still trained on them, its presence suffocating.

Mom. Dad. I'll make it count, he thinks grimly, his tears blurring the edges of his vision. Obinai takes a shaky breath, the command to run dying on his lips as the creature's voice reverberates through the air. It doesn't come from its head or mouth—if it even has one—but from everywhere at once, a thunderous, hoarse proclamation that seems to twist the very air around them.

"As it is written," it declares.

The sound sends an icy chill down Obinai's spine, rooting him to the spot.

Behind him, Mya's sobs muffled against his back. He feels her shaking. "Obi…" she cries softly, her voice cracking.

His hands shake as he cups her tear-streaked face, forcing her to look at him. "Mya, look at me!" he yells, his voice desperate to break through her shock.

She lifts her head slowly, her wide, haunted eyes meeting his. Her face is streaked with grime and tears, her lip trembling as she sniffs, trying to catch her breath. Her gaze flits nervously to the creature, then back to her brother.

Obinai's voice trembles as he says, "You have to run, Mya. Now."

She shakes her head violently, her hands clutching his shirt. "I can't!" she cries, her voice a broken whisper. "I can't leave you!"

"You have to!" Obinai shouts. He shakes her gently, trying to make her understand. "I'm useless here! I can't run fast enough! But you can. You must!"

Mya's sobs grow louder, her head shaking again. "No, Obi! I won't go without you!"

Obinai clenches his teeth, his jaw trembling as tears spill from his eyes. He pulls her into a tight hug, his voice lowering to a near-whisper as he says, "You have to live, Mya. For Mom and Dad. For me."

She freezes in his arms, her sobs quieting to muffled sniffles. "But… but I'm scared," she whispers.

"So am I," Obinai admits. He pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes. "But you're strong, Mya. Stronger than me. You can do this."

The creature shifts slightly, its massive wings spreading with a sound like tearing metal. Obinai's head jerks up at he many eyes that seem to be waiting for them to finsih.

"Mya," he says firmly, his voice trembling but resolute. "Run. Don't stop, don't look back. Just keep going."

She hesitates, her fingers clinging to his for just a moment longer before she nods, her movements small and hesitant. She wipes her face roughly with her sleeve, her shoulders still shaking as she stands on unsteady legs.

"I'll find you," Obinai says, forcing a weak smile despite the lump in his throat. "I promise."

Mya looks at him one last time, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and trust, before she turns and runs, her small figure weaving through the debris.