The Beast in the Shadows

A grotesque grayish hand, gnarled and twisted, had pierced through Cyrus's throat, blood trickling down his neck and staining the collar of his fine tunic. The older brother's eyes were wide, filled with shock and pain as he struggled to breathe, his wine glass slipping from his hand and shattering on the marble floor.

Roderick's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. For a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't think. His eyes slowly shifted from his brother's lifeless form to the shadow behind him, crouching low and watching with predatory intent.

It was a creature of pure nightmare—a monstrous, humanoid figure with ashen gray skin and six twisted arms, each ending in sharp claws that glistened in the moonlight. Its six glowing eyes, spaced unnaturally across its grotesque face, seemed to bore into Roderick's very soul. The creature's mouth twisted into a snarl, revealing jagged, yellowed teeth as it stood hunched over, the hand that had killed Cyrus still twitching grotesquely.

"M-Monster…!!" Roderick screamed, his voice breaking with terror. His feet moved before his mind could even catch up, and he bolted toward the ballroom, his heart slamming in his chest like a war drum. He stumbled through the balcony doors, his legs barely carrying him as panic overtook his senses.

The moment he re-entered the ballroom, the scene of merriment and celebration had turned into one of chaos. Guests, once engrossed in laughter and dancing, froze in their tracks as the terror in Roderick's voice sent a chilling ripple through the crowd.

Knights clad in the Fairbourne family's green and silver colors sprang into action, their armor clanking as they rushed toward the balcony, swords and shields raised. Their faces were set in grim determination, though a flicker of uncertainty passed through their eyes as they glimpsed the creature standing ominously in the doorway.

The nobles, who had moments before been sipping wine and sharing idle gossip, were now pale with fear. They scrambled to the far end of the ballroom, huddling together like frightened sheep, their once-proud faces contorted with terror.

"W-what is that?" one of the nobles stammered, his voice trembling as he pointed a shaking finger toward the balcony.

"It's the devil!" another noble shrieked, panic overtaking him as he clutched the arm of the person next to him. The crowd erupted into terrified murmurs, their eyes wide with horror as they watched the knights approach the monstrous figure.

From where he stood, Roderick could hear the scattered whispers of the guests behind him—frightened, desperate voices trying to make sense of the nightmare that had unfolded in an instant.

"How did it get past the guards?" one noblewoman whispered, her face pale as she clutched her jeweled necklace, eyes darting around the room as if expecting more horrors to descend.

"Where are the rest of the knights?" another man demanded in a shaking voice, his hands gripping the back of a chair as if it would offer him some form of protection.

The knights, now fully encircling the creature, raised their weapons, but none made the first move. The creature stood there, its six eyes glowing malevolently as it surveyed the room, seemingly unbothered by the armed men surrounding it. It cocked its head slightly, almost curiously, as if savoring the fear it had caused.

One of the knights, a tall man with a scarred face and a commanding presence, stepped forward, his sword pointed at the creature. "Foul beast!" he growled. "You dare bring your filth here? In the name of the Fairbourne family, I will see you slain where you stand!"

The creature's lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a smile, and it took a slow, deliberate step forward, its claws flexing in anticipation. The tension in the air was palpable, every second stretching out like an eternity.

Roderick, pressed against the wall with the other nobles, felt the cold grip of terror tightening around him. His heart raced, and his hands trembled as he watched the scene unfold, helpless to do anything but pray that the knights would be enough to stop the nightmare that had killed his brother.

But deep down, in the pit of his stomach, that same gut feeling gnawed at him again—this time, screaming louder than ever.

Something terrible was about to happen.

"Are you okay, Roderick?!" The voice rang out urgently as a man, aged but formidable, pushed his way through the panicked crowd. His long, silver-white hair, streaked with faint touches of grey, reached down to the middle of his back.

His beard was wild and scruffy, framing a face hardened by years of battle and experience. 

Clad in a deep green and silver tunic, he was followed closely by a retinue of knights in matching armor, their presence commanding immediate respect.

His sharp, icy blue eyes locked onto his son, immediately assessing the situation.

"Father..," Roderick stammered as he rushed to meet him, still trembling from the sight of his brother's brutal death. His voice was shaky, his eyes wide with fear.

"Yes, I'm... I'm fine, but... brother-" His voice cracked, his gaze drifting back toward the balcony, the image of Cyrus's lifeless body still fresh in his mind.

"Shh, it's okay, Roderick," his father said, swiftly pulling the young boy into a tight embrace. His voice, though firm, held a note of tenderness that cut through the chaos around them. He stroked Roderick's hair, his other hand gripping his sword hilt as if ready to face any threat. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you." There was a reassuring strength in his words, but his eyes, just over his son's shoulder, darted toward the balcony with grim understanding.

Behind them, the void creature stood motionless, its six glowing eyes fixated on Roderick. There was an eerie, deliberate stillness to the way it watched them, its attention unwavering as if it could see through the father's embrace and right into Roderick's soul.

'..Roderick." The creature's voice slithered through the air, deep and guttural, like something scraped up from the darkest corners of existence. The sound sent a collective shiver through the assembled knights, though none dared show fear in front of their lord. The void creature's words dripped with malevolent intent, its gaze intensifying as it slowly raised a grotesque arm. Behind it, the lifeless body of Cyrus was unceremoniously flung over the balcony ledge, disappearing into the darkness below as if it were nothing more than a discarded doll.

The sight of his son's body disappearing into the night lit a fire in the father's eyes.

His grip tightened around his sword, and a new resolve settled into his features. But before he could step forward, one of his knights—a seasoned warrior with a green cape draped over his polished armor-took a step ahead of him.

"Stand back, my lord!" The knight's voice was authoritative, laced with the unmistakable bravado of a man who had faced countless battles and emerged victorious. He pointed his sword at the void creature, his stance aggressive and unwavering. "You filthy demon!" he spat, rage and righteousness burning in his eyes. "How dare you defile this sacred manor with your presence? You'll pay for your insolence with your life!"

With a battle cry that echoed through the halls, the knight charged at the void creature, his blade gleaming in the dim light. Following his lead, the remaining knights rushed forward in unison, their swords raised high, glinting with the resolve of men who had sworn to protect the Fairbourne family at all costs.

The creature, however, made no move. It merely watched, almost lazily, as the knights closed in on it. The first knight, the one with the green cape, struck with all his might, his blade aimed directly at the creature's heart.

Clang!

The sword shattered the instant it made contact, the blade splintering into hundreds of pieces as if it had struck solid rock. The knight staggered back, disbelief written across his face. He stared down at the hilt in his hand, now nothing more than a useless stub of metal.

One by one, the other knights' swords met the same fate. Each blade shattered against the creature's skin as though it were an impenetrable wall of pure darkness. The men faltered, their eyes widening in horror as they stared at their broken weapons. Murmurs of confusion and panic spread through their ranks.

"What... what is this thing?" one knight whispered in disbelief, his voice trembling as he stepped back.

"This can't be real... it can't be," another muttered, his face pale with fear.

The void creature tilted its head slightly, its six eyes narrowing as if perplexed by their futile attempts. Then, without warning, it moved. What followed was a massacre.