The Veilkeepers

Shin sprinted up the stairs, his legs burning with exhaustion. He stumbled more than once, his body barely keeping up with his desperation, but he didn't care. The pain didn't matter—only escape did.

The moment he reached the top, he lunged toward the exit—

BAM!

His forehead slammed into solid stone.

"Ugh! Damn it!" He staggered back, clutching his head as a dull pain pulsed through his skull. "Did that waiter close it on his way out?"

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up. His breath was ragged, but his mind was clear on one thing: he had to break through.

He clenched his fists and threw a punch at the stone slab. Then another. And another.

Each strike sent jolts of pain through his knuckles, but he kept going. His fists turned numb, his skin raw, but the stone refused to budge.

It was thick—about the width of an index finger—but to him, it felt like an unbreakable wall.

No matter how hard Shin punched, the stone slab refused to budge.

"Aa… Aa… Ugh!" He gasped for breath, his fists aching, his strength fading. Nothing was working.

Just as he was about to give up, something strange happened.

A sudden surge of energy rushed through his right arm, flooding his veins with an eerie sensation. His skin pulsed with a dark green glow as if liquid light was coursing beneath it.

Shin's pupils constricted, his irises flickering with the same unnatural green hue. His breath hitched as he stared at his own hand—what was this?

But there was no time to question it.

He clenched his fist and threw one last punch at the stone slab.

CRACK!

The impact shattered the stone into countless fragments, sending debris flying across the room. Shin stood frozen for a moment, eyes wide in shock.

Did… did I just do that?

His right sleeve was torn apart from the sheer force, but he didn't stop to think about it.

Fear still gripped his heart.

Without hesitation, he scrambled up the stairs, desperate to escape.

The deafening crash had drawn attention.

Shin could hear hurried footsteps echoing through the halls, growing louder with each passing second.

They're coming.

Before he could react, the door to the room burst open with a thunderous slam against the wall. Five men stormed inside.

"What the hell was that noise?!" one of them barked, his eyes scanning the room.

Their gazes darted around, searching for an intruder. But there was no one in sight.

Then, their attention locked onto the shattered remains of the stone slab.

"Looks like someone broke into the lab," the man in the center muttered.

He stood out from the rest—bulkier, more imposing. The way the others positioned themselves around him made it clear.

Their leader.

His face was obscured, wrapped in dark fabric like a ninja. The way he carried himself… his movements…

An assassin?

The man on the right froze. A sudden realization struck him, draining the color from his face. His breath hitched, and cold sweat formed on his brow.

"C-Could it be… the Veilkeepers?"

His voice trembled as if merely speaking the name invited death.

The Veilkeepers?

A chilling silence filled the room.

"You idiot! Don't even joke about that!" the man on the left snapped, his voice laced with anger—no, fear.

Then who was it?

Why were they so afraid? What kind of power did these Veilkeepers hold?

The leader's expression darkened. "If they really are here, we need to move fast. Search the entire area. Now."

He turned to the two men behind him. "Go. Inform the chief."

Without hesitation, they bolted from the room.

The leader exhaled sharply and turned back, his eyes sweeping over the ruins of the stone slab once more.

Then, he noticed it—a shadow crouched behind the desk.

A smirk crept onto his face. Got you.

Moving with calculated silence, he drew a sharp knife from behind his back, its blade glinting under the dim light. Step by step, he closed the distance, his grip tightening.

With a swift motion, he rounded the desk—only to find nothing but scattered books and papers.

His smirk vanished. What?!

The culprit was already gone.

Shin had slipped away long before they arrived.

Now, he was sprinting through the dimly lit hallways, his breath sharp, his heart pounding. The eerie corridors blurred past him as he rushed forward, weaving through the maze-like structure.

Finally, he burst into the kitchen.

But something was wrong.

His sister was gone.

Panic flickered in his chest. He hurriedly approached one of the chefs.

"Where is she?!" he demanded.

The chef, startled, quickly answered. "She went to a room Garyuu prepared for you two. Room number 09."

Room 09.

Without wasting another second, Shin bolted.

It was one of the rooms in that eerie hallway.

Shin raced past the doors, scanning the numbers. 05… 07… 08… 09—found it!

"Sis!" he called out, bursting through the door.

Inside, his sister was kneeling on the floor, carefully setting up a futon. The dim glow of the lamps cast soft shadows across the room, highlighting intricate carvings on the wooden walls.

She turned to him, her face lighting up with pure joy. "Oh, you're back! Look, Shin! They gave us these soft futons. I've never touched anything this warm before. It's so soft and comfy!"

She pressed her hands into the thick fabric, marveling at the sensation.

Shin stood in the doorway, watching her.

Their whole lives had been spent on the streets. They had never known the warmth of a real bed.

Their mother used to tell them that in other parts of the world, seasons changed—summer, winter, spring, monsoon. But here, in this cursed land, snow fell year-round. The cold was constant, biting into their skin, numbing their bones.

A warm futon… It was pure luxury.

But this was no time for comfort. Not after what Shin had seen.

"Sis, listen." He grabbed her hand, his grip firm. His eyes, usually filled with exhaustion, now held something else—urgency. Fear.

"We need to get out of here."

His sister, sensing the shift in his tone, straightened. "Is something wrong?" Her earlier happiness faded, replaced by concern.

Shin's voice dropped to a whisper. "This place is dangerous. The people here… they're not what they seem. If we stay too long, they might kill us."

His sister stared into his eyes, searching for answers.

What did he see?

What could possibly make her brother—who had survived the brutal streets, who never let fear control him—look so terrified?

But as she processed Shin's words, another thought struck her. "B-but… what about Mom?" Her voice wavered, hesitant.

Shin exhaled sharply, gripping her shoulders. "She's not here right now. And if we ever want to see her again, we need to survive first. We have to leave. Now."

His sister lowered her gaze, fists clenching as if fighting an internal battle. But after a brief pause, she nodded. "Alright."

Meanwhile, across the bar, two men rushed to the front desk. Their faces were pale, their breaths uneven as they relayed the news.

"Garyuu… the Veilkeepers… they might have entered the underground lab."

Silence.

Then—

BAM!

Garyuu's fist slammed against the counter, his veins bulging in fury. "THOSE BASTARDS." His voice boomed through the room. "HOW DARE THEY INVADE MY TERRITORY?!"

With a snarl, he reached beneath the desk, pulling out a massive hammer. Without hesitation, he swung—the desk shattered in half, splintered wood flying everywhere.

Yet, not a single chef in the room flinched. They didn't gasp. They didn't react.

They just turned toward Garyuu, their faces blank—lifeless.

Like mannequins.

His voice dropped into a growl. "Search every corner of this sector. Catch those damn traitors at all costs."

In eerie unison, they responded. "Understood."

Their chef uniforms slipped from their bodies, revealing pristine white cloaks.

Then—

They vanished.

…

Shin and his sister finally found a backdoor—the one the chefs used for garbage disposal. Their breaths were ragged, but they were so close. Just a few more steps—

Then they froze.

Three figures in white cloaks were patrolling the area, their sharp eyes scanning every corner. The search had already begun.

Shin held his breath, his grip tightening around his sister's hand. If they got caught now…

Before the cloaked men could spot them, a sudden blur of movement caught their attention.

A black-cloaked figure darted across the alley, leaping onto the pipes lining the walls. Effortless. Precise. Inhumanly fast.

The white-cloaked men instantly shifted their focus. "There!" one of them barked, and in the next second, they were after him—chasing the black phantom into the depths of the alley.

Shin and his sister wasted no time. This was their chance.

They slipped out the door and sprinted toward the alley's exit.

The city was cloaked in the deep night—3 AM. They ran, hands clenched together, feet pounding against the cold stone.

The exit was just ahead—so close.

Suddenly, Sis yanked Shin to the side, pressing him against the wall.

"Shh!" She clamped a hand over his mouth before he could react.

Shin's pulse hammered in his chest. What is she doing?!

His sister's gaze was locked onto something beyond the alleyway—something he hadn't seen yet.

And from the way her body tensed…

It wasn't good.

She gestured for Shin to look.

He did.

And only then did they understand why the people of this city feared the night.

Because the city outside wasn't the same anymore.

When they first arrived, it had been bustling, alive—people rushing through the streets, laughter and chatter filling the air. But now?

Now, it was overrun by something else.

The figures that roamed the streets weren't human.

Draped in immaculate white, they moved with an unsettling elegance. Frock coats, perfectly tailored, rested over matching waistcoats and silk cravats—only disturbed by the faintest hint of crimson at their throats. Silver buttons gleamed under the dim lamplight, and gloved fingers rested lightly on silver-topped canes.

But it was their eyes that sent a chill through Shin's spine.

Deep red. Cat-like pupils. Sharp. Knowing.

Their hair, eyebrows, and lashes were pure white, blending seamlessly into the snow-covered streets. Their movements were deliberate as if they savored every step—graceful, noble… yet carrying the weight of something ancient.

Shin's breath hitched.

Vampires.

They strode through the streets as though they owned them.

But that wasn't the worst part.

By their sides, humans crawled on all fours, leashed like animals. Their bodies were thin, and trembling, heads bowed low. Some clutched at their masters' legs as if silently begging for mercy.

What happened to the people from before?

Shin's gaze darted toward the houses. Dark. Silent. Lifeless. Every window was shut tight, every light extinguished.

Only the streetlamps remained—casting an eerie glow over a city that no longer belonged to humans.

The bakery from before was still there.

But it no longer sold bread.

Through the dim light, Shin saw rotting bodies stacked against the walls, limbs twisted unnaturally. The scent of warm, fresh blood filled the air. Where trays of pastries once sat, raw human flesh was now on display—neatly arranged, like cuts of meat at a butcher's stall.

Behind the counter stood a gaunt man in a crow mask.

Silently, he handed over slabs of human meat to the passing vampires, who dropped glimmering gold coins onto the bloodstained counter.

Shin's stomach twisted.

And it wasn't just the bakery.

Every shop had become the same.

The tailor's, the butcher's, even the small tea house at the corner—all of them now sold one thing.

Human flesh and blood.

The stone roads were slick with rivers of blood, pooling in the cracks, seeping from the shopfronts like an open wound. The once-familiar scent of baked goods and spices was long gone—replaced by the suffocating stench of death.

This wasn't a city anymore.

It was a slaughterhouse.

Amidst the madness, two figures stood apart from the vampires.

And somehow, they were far worse.

They were not human. Not even vampires.

They were something else.

Something born from hell itself.

Draped in tattered black robes, they towered over everything—nearly 12 feet tall, their hunched forms still dwarfing even the tallest vampire. They carried massive scythe-like weapons, their jagged edges stained with something far darker than blood.

Then, one of them turned.

Shin's breath caught in his throat.

Its face was a grotesque nightmare—mostly skeletal, covered in a thin, stretched layer of dark red skin. The veins pulsed black as if something rotten coursed beneath.

Its eyes…

They had slit-like pupils, like a cat's—but the sclera was pitch black. A void of nothingness.

From beneath their cloaks, a thick, inky fog leaked out, twisting and curling like living smoke. Their mouths—if they could even be called that—were lined with razor-sharp, uneven fangs, too large for their skulls.

They moved slowly, but not like something alive.

It was unnatural—as if their movements weren't their own like puppets being dragged forward by unseen strings.

These were not just monsters.

These were demons.

Suddenly, from one of the houses, a small figure ran out—a little girl, no older than six, chasing after a worn-out ball that had rolled into the streets.

For a fleeting moment, the city's horrors didn't exist to her.

But the demons noticed her immediately.

Without a single movement from them, a pair of dark, rusted chains shot out from beneath one of their cloaks, slithering through the air like living serpents.

CLANK!

The chains wrapped tightly around the child's tiny frame and hoisted her into the air, her feet dangling helplessly above the bloodstained streets. She screamed, kicking and writhing, but the grip only tightened.

It was as if the demon controlled the chains without even touching them.

"AHH… PAPA! MAMA! HELP ME!!" she sobbed, turning toward her house—toward safety, toward warmth.

And the door opened.

A man—her father—stepped out, his face pale, eyes filled with dread.

For a brief second, hope flickered in her tear-stained eyes.

Then—he slammed the door shut.

Click.

The sound of the lock echoing in the empty streets was louder than any scream.

"Papa…?" she whimpered, confusion choking her words.

She clawed at the air, staring at the closed door.

"Papa… why are you closing the door…? Papa… please… papa…"

No answer.

Only silence.

Then—

SLASH.

The demon's scythe tore through the air.

And her leg fell to the ground.

Blood sprayed in violent arcs, painting the cobblestone streets deep crimson.

"AHHHH—!!"

She shrieked in agony, her tiny body convulsing as red pooled beneath her.

And yet—

Not a single person came out.

Not a single window opened.

The city remained silent.

Because in this city, at night—

No one saves anyone.

The demon's chains slithered once more, curling around the child's fragile throat. With slow, deliberate movements, the cold metal stroked her skin—almost gently.

Her whimpers faded into weak gasps. Her limbs trembled, her blood-soaked body twitching in pain. Then—her eyes fluttered, and she fell unconscious.

The other demon bent down and picked up her severed leg, gripping it like a piece of discarded meat.

With an eerie lack of urgency, the demons resumed walking, dragging the limp child behind them. The chains still clung to her like a predator unwilling to release its prey.

Her body scraped against the stone roads, leaving behind a thin, broken trail of blood.

They disappeared into the darkness.

Shin stood frozen, his mind spiraling in disbelief. His chest tightened.

Was this real?

He could feel his sister trembling beside him.

He could hear her heartbeat.

And then—

THUD.

She collapsed.

"Sis?!" Shin barely had time to react. Her body lay motionless. Had she passed out from fear?

His hands instinctively moved to check on her, but—

A sharp sting pricked his neck.

His fingers shot up, touching the source of the pain—

Two thin, metallic needles.

Before he could even think, his body began to weaken. His arms lost their strength. His legs felt distant, like they no longer belonged to him.

His vision blurred.

His mind screamed at him to move. To run. To do something—

But his body refused to obey.

As the world darkened, a silhouette entered his fading vision.

A man.

Draped in a white cloak.

One of the people searching the bar.

And then—

Everything faded to black.