Huff, Huff, Huff, Huff—
The camera is low to the ground, vibrating with the rhythm of heavy, desperate footsteps. Slowly moving upward revealing a person running, stopping before his face is shown. The frame is shaky—handheld and frantic. We see the blur of asphalt and the flash of a streetlamp.
The camera cuts to a front-facing shot of a figure. The face is obscured by shadow, but the heavy chest and the steam of breath in the cozy 3:00 AM summer night are sharp, visible even. He's pushing his limits.
The camera cuts again this time to a side-profile shot again tracking the individual. The runner is a blur of motion, but just behind him, at the very edge of the frame, a patch of darkness moves. It's faster. It's silent. It's closing in.
The camera swivels as the person dives into a thicket of bushes. We lose sight of him. The camera can only follow the violent rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs from above. Only tracking something moving between the high stacks of bushes and tall grass, as it passes another behind it, trails with intent slightly oversizing the previous one.
Dogs start barking from around the neighbourhood, some lights start flickering on. The figure emerges on the other side of the tall greens of the garden and leaps on a tree climbing up. A dog in the garden that was sleeping jolts awake from all the noise and begins to bark—a frantic, territorial yelp that is suddenly cut short by a wet, guttural hiss.
Suddenly, the camera executes a wide, sweeping crane shot. The shot lies on a tree with leaves slightly covering it but the clear shot of a house with only its roof visible, followed by houses behind and the moon shining at the top.
.
.
A figure erupts from the foliage and branches, right before the camera, jumping and leaping toward the roof of the house.
The camera captures a still-frame: A mid-air shot, time suspended for a fraction of a second. The boy is very slightly silhouetted against the pale moon, suspended between the tree and a red-tiled roof. His arms are flared out, leaves and branches flying off, his expression not seen but his body language one of pure, raw survival.
Thump-crunch, crashhshhh—
He lands on the roof, tumbling forward, the tiles cracking and sliding under his weight. He scrambles to his feet stopping for a moment to take a breath and spins around, facing the camera.
It's Luka. His face is smeared with dirt, light bruises, his eyes wide and vibrating with adrenaline.
"○Did I… lose it?"
The camera focus pulls past Luka, toward the tree he just vacated. A second of focus.
.
.
SHREEEE—
The Darkin erupts from the leaves like a nightmare made of ink. It doesn't jump; it launches. Its split-jaw is wide, a vacuum of teeth aimed straight for Luka's throat.
"SHIT!"
Luka throws himself to the right. He feels the rush of wind as a blade-like finger whistles past his ear, slicing a clean line through his hoodie. He rolls across the roof, his boots kicking up dust.
"○Of course I didn't. How stupid am I?" he realizes.
He doesn't wait. Stumbling to his feet he sprints. He's hopping from roof to roof now, the camera struggling to keep him in the center of the lens. Behind him, the creature has buried its limbs into the roof of the first house. It growls—a sound like tectonic plates grinding together—and rips itself free, sending tiles flying into the street below like shrapnel.
Lights begin to flicker on in the windows of the houses. A woman's muffled voice screams. "What was that!?"
Luka doesn't look back. His heart is a drum in his chest, hitting a tempo that should be impossible. He realizes he's running out of roof. He needs a plan. Now.
"○Think, Luka. It's faster. It's stronger. So then what..? Is it… solid?"
As he runs, he grabs a heavy wooden outdoor chair from a balcony and hurls it behind him without looking.
The camera follows the chair's arc. The Darkin doesn't flinch. It simply swats the chair out of the air, the wood exploding into toothpicks. Luka tries again—a rolled-up rug, a ceramic planter. Each one is annihilated or simply tanked. No pain. No hesitation.
But that wasn't pointless. Luka noticed something, something subtle. Its reactions, they were fast, faster than a human. He realized that it mostly relies on its reactions; otherwise it can't think nor is it too physically dominant. Barely, by a margin. But Luka noticed it enough to form a quick plan. Plan B.
The whole time that electric feeling he's been getting was here, prompting an idea with his new unknown force he's shown. Thinking—
"○This tingling in my arms, does it have to do something with the bed and broken sink?" continuing to think between his heavy breaths. "○Up until now i've been just running.. yea.. it's a risk but-i have to try it."
Plan B. A head-on confrontation?
Just before that. As he's passing another building on the balcony he spots a small tree inside a big flowerpot.
"○...hmm."
He grabs it, throwing an object one last time.
The pot flies.
Still going.
It reaches closer to the Darkin, almost like it's about to hit.
The Darkin opens his mouth and crushes the pot, not even spitting it out.
.
"○Okay. Noted. Plan B it is."
The chase continues. Luka jumps from the houses down on the side of the street and bolts with acceleration. Quickly scanning with his eyes left and right. A few lefts and rights he spots it, at the end of a row of townhouses a sharp corner. Running he stops at the edge, clutching a heavy, discarded black blanket he snatched from a balcony. He waits.
The camera pans uncomfortably close to his face. A single drop of sweat hangs from his chin.
Camera now following the Darkin and his speed. Right at his shoulder, moving on each long step he takes. The camera shakes as the creature closes in on the corner.
Slowing its momentum. It turns the corner and sees..
.
Nothing..?
Or rather he sees darkness.
.
Cutting back to Luka.
This was it.
A window. Wide open.
Luka shifts his weight. He drops one knee to his left, his center of gravity plummeting as he winds up his left fist. He feels that electrical hum—the 'static' from the bathroom—surge from his spine to his knuckles.
The scene shifts to 30 seconds before this event happened. This time the camera from Luka's POV.
"○I just gotta time it correctly and i'll have an opening."
Clutching the blanket and using his ears to catch the exact moment he needs.
He hears it and as he does.
Right as the Darkin is about to turn the corner.
Luka snapped the blanket open with a whip-like crack, throwing it in the air and perfectly timing when the creature's open, many-sectioned face will pop up.
He shifts. Winds up his punch. And throws it. Connecting to the same event from a different perspective.
Bringing us back to the present.
Luka's punch flying in a diagonal from bottom left to top right, right at the creature's side of his abdomen, all his might gathered in it.
The camera zooms at the point of contact.
Luka's punch is about to land.
Then—
For a moment the scene stops.
[ Luka's plan worked. He thought of a short and cheeky little plan, but it worked. Once he realized that the creature relies too much on his senses and reactions, he understood its threat and projected the plan to nullify its advantage.
While running he picked up a blanket. A black one camouflaging with the surroundings and Luka's shirt. Coincidence? Who knows, nonetheless it worked in his favor confusing the creature even better. Continuing the plan was searching for the terrain so the plan can work. After securing tools and conditions, the execution was nearly flawless. Throwing the blanket open right before the creature turns to confuse him completely.
The final and most important step.
Executed on the dot. Seizing the moment he winds up a deep uppercut with the advantage he made himself, blocking the creature's sight and rendering its senses useless. Clever enough, that brink of a second was all he needed to execute his plan, pull maximum power while ensuring the hit lands effortlessly.
Simple but effective. ]
The scene slowly coming back to normal flow of the event.
.
.
THUMBPPP—
.
THUMBPPP—
.
THUMBPPP—
The punch landed.
A clean hit to the creature's side.
The camera showing 3 angles of the connection.
VVVDOOMMM—
KRRRSHKKSKTT—
THUMPT-KRTTTKK—
Tap-traptt, krttppp-kr—
Krk-krsk, krskkk—
The Darkin's whole body moved, slamming into the cement pole to his left.
Demolishing half of it. Debris starts to fall scattering around and the metal poles holding the structure are now visible. The creature, half into the pole, stops moving.
Luka pants, looking down. His hand is throbbing. Realizing his plan worked he says—
"Haha, i didn't expect it to go so well!" a bright light fires up in Luka's eyes.
Now shifting his gaze back up expecting to see the thing broken.
Instead, the still blanket starts to slowly rise and move.
The little life on Luka's face instantly sucked out.
The Darkin stands up, shaking its head. It's not even limping. If anything now it looked even more pissed.
"○You've got to be kidding me."