Chapter 548

The cicadas droned their oppressive summer song. Andreas wiped sweat from his brow, the heat almost unbearable even in the shade of the olive tree. He pushed a stray lock of dark hair back from his forehead, his fingers leaving a smear of dirt.

He'd been working in his family's olive grove all morning. It was tiring work, but necessary. The harvest was coming soon, and there was much to do to prepare. His muscles ached, and all he wanted now was cold water.

Andreas started walking towards the small stone house, its whitewashed walls almost blinding in the afternoon sun. He could smell the faint scent of oregano and thyme, carried on the dry, hot breeze. He'd known the scents his whole life.

As he approached the house, he heard a sound. A faint, rhythmic ticking, like tiny claws on stone. Click-clack, click-clack. It stopped, then started, irregular, unsettling. He checked the base of the walls, but they were all sealed.

He paused, listening intently. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was barely audible, almost lost beneath the relentless whine of the cicadas. A crawling sensation tickled his brain.

"Hello?" Andreas called out, his voice sounding oddly weak even to his own ears. Silence. Only the cicadas, and his pulse, hammering in his own ear drums, like it had changed their tempo to match it.

He went inside. The coolness of the house enveloped him, a welcome change from the brutal heat outside. He headed straight for the kitchen, to the fridge with water. He opened it.

As he reached for a bottle of water, the ticking sound returned, louder now. Click-clack, click-clack-clack. It seemed to be coming from the living room, the room connecting.

Andreas felt a prickle of unease, a knot tightening in his stomach. He wasn't alone. The idea made him uncomfortable, and confused. Had his brother returned?

Slowly, he walked towards the living room, his footsteps echoing faintly on the tiled floor. He gripped the cold, wet bottle of water tightly, a strange weapon. He'd protect himself, if he had to.

The living room was empty. The shutters were closed, casting the room in a dim, almost suffocating twilight. Dust motes danced lazily in the slender beams of sunlight. A strange thing to notice, when one is in fear.

Click-clack-clack. The sound was closer, right behind him. He spun around, his heart hammering against his ribs, the water bottle clutched defensively. His body screamed to move, flee, now.

There, in the corner of the room, partially obscured by the shadows, he saw it. A creature, small and skeletal, with limbs like blackened twigs and eyes that were empty, gaping holes. How could something stand when its form was skeletal?

Its head was disproportionately large, dominated by a pair of those horrifying sockets. The eyesockets faced forward in the direction of their target. As if something had occupied them not long ago.

From its jaw, which moved with an unsettling, disjointed motion, came the ticking sound. Click-clack, click…clack. The sound came from the rapid opening and closing of its teeth and mouth.

Andreas froze, paralyzed by a fear he'd never known before. It was a primal terror, something deep within his DNA screaming at him to run, to hide, to do anything but stand there.

The creature took a step forward, its twig-like limbs moving with an unnatural, jerky grace. It tilted its head, as if studying him, its empty sockets seeming to bore into him. Why hadn't he ran yet?

"What… what are you?" Andreas managed to choke out, his voice a trembling whisper, cracking with a fear so deep that every ounce of courage had been squeezed.

The creature didn't answer, of course. It simply continued its slow, deliberate advance, the click-clack of its jaw the only sound in the otherwise silent room. This slow advance continued and grew.

Andreas took a step back, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady himself against the wall. He had to do something. He had to break free from this paralyzing dread.

He hurled the water bottle at the creature. It struck the things's head with a dull thud, water splashing everywhere. The creature didn't even flinch, no flicker of fear or awareness in its movements.

The ticking stopped. For a moment, there was only the sound of Andreas's ragged breathing, and the buzzing hum in the background. Then, a new sound emerged. A low, guttural growl.

The creature lunged, its movements suddenly swift and terrifying. Andreas screamed, a high-pitched, desperate sound that was cut short as the creature slammed into him. His arms flung to his eyes.

He felt a sharp, searing pain, as if something was tearing at his face. He thrashed, kicking and clawing at the creature, but it clung to him with unnatural strength.

The pain intensified, a blinding agony that made him want to black out. He felt something pop, followed by a warm, viscous liquid running down his cheeks. His eyes stung with intense tears.

The creature dropped to the floor, clutching something in its twig-like hands. Andreas stumbled back, his hands covering his empty eye sockets, his screams now muffled whimpers.

He could feel the blood, thick and sticky, flowing between his fingers. He could smell the metallic tang of it, filling his nostrils, choking him. What were those things the beast now had?

Through the haze of pain and terror, he saw the creature raise its prize to its mouth. His eyes. It was eating his eyes. He retched, his stomach emptying onto the floor.

The creature devoured its meal with a sickening relish, the click-clack of its jaw now a wet, slurping sound. It crunched and swallowed, its empty sockets somehow expressing satisfaction.

Andreas collapsed to his knees, his body shaking uncontrollably. He was blind, alone, and utterly helpless. The world had narrowed to a point of pain and darkness.

The creature finished its gruesome feast. It turned its head towards Andreas, its empty sockets seeming to mock him. The click-clack resumed, a prelude to another attack.

He tried to crawl away, his hands scrabbling blindly at the floor, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. He bumped into a table, sending a ceramic vase crashing to the ground.

The creature was on him again, its claws scrabbling at his face, seeking purchase. It smelled of dust and something ancient, something deeply, fundamentally wrong.

But this time, Andreas fought back, driven by a desperate, animalistic instinct to survive. He grabbed the creature's twig-like arms, its strange composition and snapped them, easily and swiftly.

The creature emitted a high-pitched screech, a sound that grated on Andreas's ears even though his eyes were gone. He felt a surge of grim satisfaction. It was a hollow victory.

He pushed the creature away, his hands finding the broken pieces of the vase. He gripped a large, jagged fragment, his fingers slick with his own blood.

When the creature lunged again, Andreas struck, driving the shard into one of its empty eye sockets with all his remaining strength. He was determined to defeat his tormenter.

The creature shrieked again, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. It thrashed wildly, its body convulsing. Then, with a final, shuddering spasm, it went still. He could feel blood on the shard.

Andreas remained on the floor, his chest heaving, his body drenched in sweat and blood. He was alive, but at what cost? He ran his fingers over his empty eye sockets, his stomach lurching again.

He would never see the sun rise over the olive groves again. He would never see the faces of his family, his friends, his lover. His world had been reduced to a permanent, horrifying black.

He began to sob, a broken, hopeless sound that echoed through the silent house. The cicadas continued their incessant drone, oblivious to his suffering. Nature wasn't on his side either.

He didn't know how long he sat there, lost in his grief and despair. Time had lost all meaning. He was adrift in a sea of darkness, with no hope of rescue. Why couldn't he black out?

Eventually, his sobs subsided, replaced by a hollow emptiness. He was numb, his mind unable to process the full horror of what had happened. His body was a stranger.

He crawled towards where he thought the doorway was, his hands outstretched, navigating by touch. He found the wall, then followed it, inching his way towards the entrance.

He needed to get out, to get away from this place, this tomb. He needed… he didn't know what he needed. Help? Escape? There was no escape. Just emptiness in this house.

He reached the doorway, his hands finding the frame. He pulled himself up, his legs weak and unsteady. He staggered outside, into the blinding sunlight he could no longer see.

The heat was intense, baking his skin, but he welcomed it. It was a sensation, a reminder that he was still alive, even if he wished he wasn't. He just wanted it over.

He stumbled forward, his arms outstretched, his bare feet stumbling on the uneven ground. He had no destination, no plan. He was simply moving, fleeing, driven by blind instinct.

He walked until he could walk no more, his body exhausted, his spirit broken. He collapsed beneath the shade of an olive tree, his body sinking into the dry, dusty earth.

He lay there, listening to the rustle of the leaves, the drone of the cicadas, the faint, distant click-clack that still echoed in his mind. The sounds were a symphony.

He closed his empty sockets, as if that would somehow bring back his sight. He wished he could sleep, escape into unconsciousness, but sleep wouldn't come. It would just be the void.

He thought of his life, of all the things he had loved, of all the things he would never see again. The faces of his loved ones, the beauty of the Cypriot landscape, the colors of a sunset.

He had always been afraid of the dark. Now, the dark was all he had. It was a terrifying, suffocating darkness, filled with the memory of the creature, the click-clack of its jaw, the horror of his stolen eyes.

A tear, then another, and many, many more, ran down his cheek. A new thing for them to do. He wished he had no head, let alone the missing features. The new reality was an eternal pain.

The TikkyTokky, as the old tales called it, was a creature of nightmare. It stole your eyes, leaving you blind and broken. Andreas had thought it was a simpleton's tale.

He'd been a fool. The old stories were true. The TikkyTokky was real. And now, it had claimed him, leaving him with nothing but darkness and despair, eternally chasing away his suffering.