THE AFTERMATH

Ethan lay on the floor of his apartment, his chest rising and falling with deep, labored breaths. The scene replayed in his mind over and over—

Suddenly appearing outside.

The creature.

The voice in his head.

The… rift.

"What the hell was that?"

He clenched his fists. His body still felt like lead, the exhaustion sitting heavy in his bones. But then—

"Mom. Dad."

His stomach dropped.

"Oh, shit!"

Ignoring the weight dragging him down, Ethan pushed himself up. His limbs protested, his vision blurred for a moment, but he forced himself forward.

He stumbled into his bedroom, grabbing his phone from the bedside table with shaking fingers. His heart hammered as he unlocked it, immediately pulling up his call log.

No missed calls. No texts.

"Come on, come on…"

He tapped on his mom's contact, bringing the phone to his ear. The ringing felt endless. His breathing was uneven, his grip on the phone tightening with each second—

Then—

Click.

"Ethan?" His mother's voice came through, slightly hushed but steady.

The tension in his body eased slightly, but his heart was still racing. "Mom! Are you guys okay? Are you home?"

"We're fine," she reassured him quickly. "We… we heard something outside, but we didn't go out to check. What's going on? The news is saying—"

She paused. His father's muffled voice came from the background.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair. "I—I don't know," he admitted. "Something happened, Mom. I—" He hesitated. How the hell was he supposed to explain this? "I think it's dangerous outside. Just… stay inside. Keep the doors locked."

"We already did," she replied, a bit more firmly. "Your father's watching the reports now. Some kind of attack, but no one knows by who."

"Not by who, Mom… by what."

Ethan swallowed. He didn't say that out loud.

"…Are you safe?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ethan exhaled. "I'm home."

"Good." A slight pause. Then, softer, "You should get some rest, sweetheart."

Ethan let out a breath, his shoulders sagging. "Yeah… You too."

They exchanged quick goodbyes before he ended the call.

Ethan stared at the screen for a moment before collapsing onto his bed.

His mind was still racing, but his body couldn't keep up anymore. The weight of exhaustion finally won.

As his eyes fluttered shut, one final thought echoed in his mind—

"What the hell is happening to the world?"

Gasp!

Ethan shot up, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he scanned his surroundings. For a brief moment, he hoped—prayed—that last night had been some twisted nightmare. But the sharp sting from the scrapes on his knees told him otherwise.

It was real.

Dragging himself to the window, he yanked the curtain aside. Sirens wailed through the streets, echoing between the buildings, a chaotic chorus of ambulances, fire trucks, and police.

From his second-floor apartment, he could finally see the full extent of the destruction.

Burning buildings sent plumes of black smoke into the sky. Cars lay either flipped or torn apart, some reduced to twisted metal husks. Bodies—far too many bodies—littered the streets, some covered in sheets, others left untouched, as if the authorities hadn't had time to tend to them.

But the creatures…

They were gone.

His phone buzzed violently in his hand, snapping him out of his daze. His notifications were overwhelming, a flood of missed calls, frantic messages, and news alerts. Even people who rarely posted had something to say.

His thumb hovered for a second before tapping on a video.

The footage was shaky, the panicked breathing of the person recording filling the audio.

— A subway station in Japan, where one of the creatures tore through a packed platform, sending people flying like ragdolls.

— A dark alley in London, where a group of armed officers unloaded their weapons at something unseen—until a bloodied officer was yanked into the shadows mid-scream.

— A wrecked highway in Mexico City, where a bus lay on its side, its windshield shattered, bodies scattered across the pavement.

— A shopping district in Sydney, where glass rained from above as something burst through a storefront, slamming a pedestrian into a streetlamp with bone-crushing force.

Different places. Different time zones.

But all at the exact same time.

Ethan's stomach twisted.

"This… this wasn't just here. It was everywhere."

He exhaled sharply, fingers gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. And then he remembered.

The voice.

The one that told him to duck.

It wasn't his own.

His gaze drifted back to the window, to the burned-out ruins and the faint flashes of emergency lights below. The city was shaken but still standing. People were still alive.

But the monsters were gone.

Ethan's thoughts snapped back to his parents. His chest tightened.

Without wasting another second, he pressed his mother's contact and brought the phone to his ear. One ring. Two. Three.

"Ethan?" His mother's voice came through, slightly breathless. She was already awake.

Relief washed over him, but it was quickly drowned out by worry. "Mom, are you okay? Is Dad with you? What's going on over there?"

"We're fine, sweetheart." There was a brief pause, then a hushed voice in the background—his father.

"Who is it?"

"It's Ethan," his mother murmured before speaking louder, "Things are… bad. The power keeps cutting in and out, and the news is saying different things, but we heard gunfire last night. Your father wanted to go outside, but I made him stay put."

"I have one arm, not two broken legs," his dad grumbled, voice gruff as ever.

Ethan nearly smiled. "And you're still as stubborn as ever, I see."

A scoff. "Comes with age, son."

His mother sighed. "Ethan, what about you? You sound tired. Were you outside when it happened?"

He hesitated, running a hand down his face. "Yeah. It was… I don't even know how to explain it. One second I was in my apartment, and the next—" He stopped, his grip tightening around the phone. "I saw one of them up close, Mom. It almost—"

His mother gasped. "Ethan."

"But I'm okay," he quickly reassured her. "I made it back. I just—" He exhaled. "I don't know what the hell is happening."

His father spoke this time, voice low. "You're coming home, right?"

Ethan hesitated again, glancing back out the window. The streets were still littered with destruction, but there were no monsters.

Not yet.

"…Yeah," he finally said. "I'll be there soon."

Ethan had to get to his parents. He wasn't sure what he could do if one of those creatures appeared again—he wasn't a fighter—but he couldn't just sit back and do nothing.

His alarm blared, a cruel reminder of a normal routine that no longer mattered. He silenced it with a tap.

"Who in their right mind would go to work after last night?" he muttered.

Shaking off the lingering exhaustion, he took a quick shower, letting the cold water jolt him fully awake. Dressed and ready, he grabbed his keys and headed out the back of his apartment building to where his car was parked.

Stepping outside, his breath hitched. The street was eerily quiet, yet the evidence of chaos was undeniable. A few bodies lay motionless on the pavement, remnants of shattered glass sparkling around them. He kept his eyes forward, swallowing down the nausea threatening to rise.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he gripped the wheel and exhaled shakily.

Just get home.

As he pulled onto the main road, his silent prayer was simple—let the roads be clear. He wasn't planning on walking.

But that thought quickly faded as he took in the devastation ahead.

Ethan's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pulled onto the main road.

Chaos.

The destruction was far worse here than in his quiet little corner. Smoke curled into the sky from buildings that had been set ablaze. Cars were abandoned haphazardly, some smashed beyond recognition. Shattered glass and debris littered the street.

People moved cautiously—some in shock, others rushing with panicked urgency. A few were armed with whatever they could find: bats, kitchen knives, even metal pipes.

His stomach twisted. What the hell happened while I was asleep?

A man banged on a car window, screaming for help. Another sat on the sidewalk, clutching a bleeding wound, his face pale.

Ethan swallowed hard and forced his gaze forward. Keep moving. Get to Mom and Dad.

He pressed down on the gas, carefully weaving through stalled vehicles. Every now and then, his eyes flickered to the rearview mirror. He didn't know what he was looking for, but after what happened last night, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching.

A siren blared in the distance.

His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.

---

Ethan's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he neared his parents' neighborhood—a small, gated community. It wasn't anything extravagant, but it was safe, quiet, and well-kept. Or at least, it used to be.

His car rolled to a slow stop in front of the entrance. The gate, once sturdy and intact, now lay in twisted ruins, as if something massive had plowed through it. Metal bars were bent inward, the concrete base cracked apart.

The security booth was empty. Of course it is.

He swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. The eerie silence was unsettling. No guards, no neighbors outside, nothing but the occasional flicker of movement behind curtains.

Shaking off the unease, he drove forward, passing through the broken gate. His parents' house was just a few turns away. Please let them be okay.

"What the hell?" Ethan leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel as he stared at the house in disbelief.

His parents' home—his childhood home—was barely recognizable. The roof had been torn apart, jagged beams and shattered tiles scattered across the lawn. A chunk of the second-floor wall was missing, exposing a dark, hollow interior.

Ethan's breath caught in his throat. Were they inside when this happened?

Slamming the car into park, he practically threw the door open and sprinted toward the front entrance, dodging debris. His heart pounded against his ribs as he reached for the door handle, hesitating for just a second.

Please… be okay.

Ethan rushed to the door, fumbling with his keys, hands unsteady. Just as he was about to slide the key into the lock, the door swung open.

His father stood in the doorway, brow furrowed. "Why is your face lik—"

Before he could finish, Ethan lunged forward, wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace.

His father stiffened for a moment before letting out a small sigh. "Well… that's unexpected."

Ethan didn't let go. "I thought—" His voice caught in his throat. "I thought something happened to you."

His father patted his back gruffly. "We're fine, son." Then, after a beat, "Your mother's been worrying herself sick."

Ethan pulled back, scanning his father's face for any sign of injury. "The house—what the hell happened?"

His father exhaled, glancing over his shoulder. "You should come inside. It's... better if you see for yourself."

Ethan wiped his eyes and stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the wreckage. The damage wasn't just outside—the interior was a mess. Furniture lay overturned, deep claw marks marred the walls, and shards of glass crunched under his shoes.

From the kitchen, his mother appeared, her face weary but relieved.

"What happened? And why didn't you tell me any of this when we talked on the phone?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration and concern.

His mother let out a tired sigh, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she approached. Despite the exhaustion written on her face, she still managed to give him a once-over, as if checking for any injuries.

"We didn't want to worry you," she said. "You sounded shaken enough as it was."

Ethan frowned, stepping further into the house. The damage wasn't just superficial—furniture was overturned, deep claw marks scarred the walls, and shards of broken glass littered the floor. His stomach tightened.

"Not worry me?" he echoed, disbelief creeping into his voice. "Mom, the damn roof is gone! Something came through here. What happened?"

His father shut the door behind him, arms crossed. "We don't know what it was," he admitted. "It happened so fast. One second, we were in bed, the next—something crashed through the ceiling. A shadow, a blur… and then it was gone. Like it was never here."

Ethan's jaw clenched. The events of last night replayed in his mind—the creatures, the chaos, the voice in his head. He had no idea what was happening to the world, but one thing was certain.

It had just begun.