Ren had been wandering for hours, his body exhausted yet driven by an unrelenting need to keep moving forward. Then something changed. The air shifted. The oppressive weight of the forest loosened just barely. The sky—once a swirling crimson—paled into a dull, ashen gray. Fog pooled low around his feet, curling through his cloak and blurring the world into something half-remembered, half-dreamed. Ren saw jagged rooftops that pierced the tree line.
"Buildings?" His voice cracked. "P-people? It…it can't be…"
His pace quickened at the possibility of there being other survivors.
Ren stepped past the trees, out into a village half-swallowed by mist.
Time had not been kind to it.
Roofs sagged inward like collapsed lungs. Doors hung from rusted hinges, swaying faintly without any wind. Walls wept mildew and blackened vines, their stone bloated and rotting.
Ren moved carefully down the narrow dirt path. And then he saw them.
Figures that stood motionless in the fog—too still. Too deliberate.
They were pale, their skin stretched tight over brittle frames, bone threatening to pierce through. Yet, they weren't like the corpses he had seen before. There was something behind their milky eyes. A thin, stubborn remnant of humanity that refused to die.
"Can they…see me?"
None of them turned. None reacted to his presence.
Until one did, a woman stepped forward from the sagging porch of a collapsed house. Wisps of gray hair clung to her scalp, her body trembling as though each movement cost her something.
"You…" She said, her voice fragile, stretched to the breaking point. "You shouldn't be here…"
Panic flickered in her eyes. She reached out to him, hands shaking, stopping just short of touching him—as if contact itself was forbidden.
Ren opened his mouth to speak, but the fear in her expression stole the words.
"Please," She whispered. "You need to leave. It's not safe for you here."
Her face twitched. Something under her skin shifted. Then she smiled. It was wrong.
Not warm, nor reassuring.
SNAP
Her mouth stretched wider than it should have, the corners tearing wide open.
"You don't belong here," She pleaded, voice still urgent even as blood poured from the rips in her cheeks. "You need to go…Please…it's dangerous for you here, child."
Ren stumbled back, horror freezing his spine.
"Please—run before—"
Her body convulsed. And her voice changed. The words came out lifeless.
"Mother sees you…"
Around him, the villagers stirred awake. Every head turned at once. They were smiling.
No—they were ripping apart. Their faces contorted violently, forced into shapes no human body should make. Unblinking eyes leaked blood that tracked slowly down their cheeks.
In perfect, dreadful unison, they spoke.
"Mother sees you…"
The chant echoed. From men. From women. From children.
Again.
And again.
Panic detonated in Ren's heart. He tore through the narrow dirt streets, vaulting broken fences, swerving past splintered carts, scraping his shoulder against crumbling walls.
Behind him—footsteps. Hundreds of them.
And the words. "Mother sees you…"
He turned a corner—and something seized him.
Ren slammed into the side of a building, the air ripped from his lungs. A gaunt man pinned him there, face twisted into that same impossible smile. Hands clamped over Ren's face with an inhuman strength. Without thinking, Ren drew his dagger and drove it into the man's side.
Ten times the blade sank in—but the man did not react.
One hand forced Ren's mouth open. The other reached for his left eye.
"No—no, please—!"
Fingers dug into the socket, pressing deep.
"No—!"
POP
Ren screamed when his world exploded into warm red.
He couldn't see, nor could he think. So instinct took over. Ren ripped the dagger free and drove it into the side of the man's skull—over and over—until the body seized, shuddered, and collapsed at his feet. Still twitching. Still smiling.
"Mother sees you…"
Ren slid down the wall, clutching the hole where his eye had been. Blood poured between his fingers—hot, slick, and real. His remaining eye darted around wild.
A woman charged from the fog.
Ren swung on reflex. The dagger opened her throat. Blood sprayed across his face as she fell.
More came.
"Oh God…I—I didn't—" Ren choked, his hand shaking uncontrollably.
The blood coating him was red.
"They're human…"
Yet, they kept smiling. They screamed while bleeding. But they didn't stop?
Ren staggered back, sobbing for breath. "You made me—why did you make me do this?!"
The crowd closed in.
"Why won't you stop?!"
His dagger rose, his entire body trembling.
Then—a sound cut through the chaos. A low, hollow cry. Like wind rushing past his ears.
Hooves, soft and measured.
From the mist emerged a horse—tall and decaying, yet impossibly majestic. Its pale mane flowed as if caught in a wind that touched nothing else. Silver light burned in its eyes, and each step left behind faint, glowing hoofprints. It charged straight for Ren. Before he could react, its jaws clamped down on his remaining arm. And it ran. The world blurred as the horse galloped out of the fog, dragging him with it. Ren twisted to look back. The villagers stood at the edge. Still bloodied. Mutilated. Still with that crude smile.
"Mother sees you…"