Chapter 2

The two-headed creature finally began to move away, followed by a line of Dread trailing like a dark shadow. The dragging of feet and eerie moans gradually faded as their steps carried them deeper into the darkness of the plains.

Izagiri waited a few seconds in the suffocating silence, only their breathing audible amidst the whisper of the night wind. Slowly, he peeked from behind the wrecked car, making sure not a single one had stayed behind. His gaze was sharp, full of caution, and his blue eyes reflected the dim moonlight breaking through the clouds.

"Looks like they're gone," he whispered softly.

He took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in his chest, then turned to Feona, who was still clutching her knees, eyes wide with fear. Without a word, Izagiri extended his hand.

Feona stared at him for a moment, hesitant, but finally took his hand. Their palms touched small, cold, yet firm. Izagiri helped Feona to her feet, gripping her hand firmly but gently.

"Let's go," he said shortly.

And in the hanging silence, they continued their journey, hands still clasped, as if clinging to the last remnants of courage they had left to face a night that promised no hope.

As Feona stepped on something, her body staggered—and crack!

A glass bottle shattered against the hard asphalt, the sound slicing through the silence like a death knell. The world seemed to freeze for a second, and then…

RRRAAARGHHHH!!

A growl and thunderous footsteps ripped through the stillness of the night.

Izagiri immediately turned, his eyes widening. "Shit," he hissed. "Run, Feona!"

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the girl's hand and started to run. Their breath quickened, feet pounding against the wet asphalt, echoing wildly through the open road. Behind them, the stomping of feet—hundreds of Dread bursting forward in a frenzy of bloodlust. Moans, screeches, and bodies crashing into everything around grew louder.

They didn't dare look back.

There was only one goal: survive.

And in that nightmare of a night, two children ran as if the world hung by a thread—pursued by death itself, which never sleeps.

That mutated monster—known as an Anomaly—moved with impossible speed. Even crawling, its motion rivaled Earth's deadliest predators. Its legs stretched out like a spider's, combined with the swollen muscles of a beast twisted by wild mutations. The twin heads lolled side to side, growling deeply as if splitting the night air in half.

Izagiri glanced back just long enough to see the Anomaly swat a wrecked car aside with a single brutal motion. He knew they had no time.

They crossed a narrow, brittle bridge, under which a river raged—carrying remnants of a ruined city. Without hesitation, Izagiri opened his sling bag and pulled out a glass bottle filled with thick, golden-yellow liquid. Gasoline. A rag dangled from its mouth—his homemade molotov.

With trembling hands but unwavering eyes, Izagiri lit a small, worn-out lighter. The flame danced at its tip, flickering like a challenge to destruction itself.

"Follow my lead… and don't panic," he said calmly but firmly, his gaze locked on the horde of Dread and the roaring monster behind them.

Feona nodded quickly, speechless—her eyes wide, body trembling.

As the creatures neared the edge of the bridge, their rough, shrill footfalls rising above the river's roar, Izagiri hurled the molotov with all his strength.

BRAAAKHHH!!!

The bottle struck the ground and exploded into flames. Fire surged wildly toward abandoned vehicles soaked in gasoline. In seconds, a roaring blaze formed a wall of searing heat. Dread and Anomalies screamed, some burning, but they kept moving—mad and bloodthirsty.

Without waiting for the next explosion, Izagiri wrapped Feona in a tight embrace and whispered, "Hold on."

Then they jumped.

Their bodies hit the cold, raging river, swallowed by the chaos of its current. Above, the firestorm raged like an open gate to hell, and a massive explosion tore apart the old bridge, burying their pursuers in fire and ruin.

But from within the inferno and twisted metal, the creature emerged again. The Anomaly—burned in parts, but undeterred. With both heads growling and a body defying biological logic, it summoned its last strength and leapt from the collapsing bridge, tearing through the night air like a missile of terror.

Its predatory instincts screamed. Beneath the churning current and the darkness, it sensed its prey—not through sight or hearing, but with a beast's mutated intuition: the scent of fear, the heat trail of life, the echo of energy in the water.

The river was no barrier. Its grotesque, powerful form hit the water and began to dive and swim, though it wasn't built for it. Its movement was erratic yet purposeful—like a nightmare that knew no fatigue or pain.

The raging current tossed Izagiri and Feona as they struggled to stay afloat. Their breathing labored, the cold biting deep, and explosions still echoed faintly from above. But a soft growl beneath the water—a dragging claw—raised the hairs on their skin.

Izagiri opened his eyes, and in the murky water, he saw the massive shadow closing in.

"Feona… don't look back," he whispered, voice nearly breaking. The water was no longer safe. Not tonight. And the nightmare wasn't over.

The current carried them toward the edge of a tall waterfall, and before they could react, their small bodies were swept over the brink. Moonlight bathed them as they soared briefly through the air, then crashed into the river below.

Their bodies slammed against the shallow riverbed rocks. Pain seared through their bones, but Izagiri quickly stood, wincing, and dragged Feona to the side—toward a patch of land hidden by thick bushes.

He had just sat down to catch his breath when a sharp noise split the darkness, branches snapping, water splashing violently.

The Anomaly wasn't dead. From behind the waterfall, its horrific form emerged, covered in burns, river water dripping from exposed, open pores, breath hissing like a starving beast.

It lunged at Izagiri. Claws and elongated limbs struck, slamming him to the ground. He caught the blow with trembling arms. The creature's sharp teeth dripped saliva, close enough to smell its rotting flesh.

"RUN, FEONA!!" Izagiri shouted through gritted teeth, struggling to keep the creature's claws from tearing into his face.

Feona stood frozen. Her hands trembled, her body refused to move. In her vision, time seemed to slow down, and the roaring of the Anomalies merged with an old scream—the voice of her mother, from back when they were slaughtered right in front of her.

Her eyes widened. Tears began to fall. The horror of today had awakened all the trauma that had never healed. She saw Izagiri, a boy her age, willingly sacrificing himself to protect her.

But her feet wouldn't move. She didn't want to run. Not like back then. Not this time.

Izagiri grinned, though his body was almost crushed. "What a stupid girl…" he muttered, half annoyed, half impressed. He knew Feona should've run, should've saved herself. But she came back, refusing to be a mere spectator of tragedy again.

With the last of his strength, Izagiri gathered his energy and began kicking the creature's belly—again and again. The kicks didn't stop the Anomalies, but they were enough to disrupt its focus. The twin-headed beast roared, one head turning toward Izagiri, the other searching for the new source of disturbance.

And in that moment—Feona emerged from the bushes, eyes shaking but filled with burning resolve. She gripped her small knife so tightly her knuckles turned white. With one desperate thrust, she ran forward and stabbed the knife into the side of the Anomalies' neck, just beneath one of its pulsing heads.

The creature's shriek shook the air. Black blood sprayed like mist, thick and foul-smelling. The Anomalies lifted its body, thrashing wildly, trying to grab Feona, but the stab had thrown it off balance.

Feona stared, breath ragged, tears spilling from her eyes. But she didn't back down.

Izagiri saw his chance. With one quick movement, he grabbed a large rock beside him and slammed it into the side of the beast's head.

A cracking sound echoed. The Anomalies shrieked in pain, staggering before it finally collapsed to the ground, thrashing in a wild panic—then falling still.

Silence. Only the sound of the river, their heavy breathing, and the scent of death lingering in the night air.

"I thought you were going to run," Izagiri said in a teasing tone, trying to hide his exhaustion behind a faint smile.

Feona didn't reply right away. She stepped closer and lightly hit his head with her small fist. "Idiot… idiot. Don't try to be a hero when you're still just a shorty…" she said, her voice shaking. Her eyes were red, brimming with tears, full of worry she could no longer hide.

Izagiri froze for a moment. Her words weren't just scolding—they were a scream of fear, fear of losing someone. He looked at her face, unsure how to react.

"I'm fine—ow, ow! It hurts!" Izagiri winced suddenly, clutching his left shoulder, which throbbed with pain, possibly dislocated.

Feona gasped. "You're hurt! Why didn't you say anything!?"

"I just… didn't want you to worry even more…" Izagiri muttered, a little embarrassed.

Feona let out a frustrated sigh, though her expression was far from angry. She knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she tried to check the wound. "If you die… I'll be alone again…"

Izagiri gave her a weak smile, looking at her gently. "I'm not going to die. I promise."

Feona hooked his arm over her shoulder, helping him up slowly as they began walking along the cold, rocky riverbank. They were drenched, their bodies shivering, but their steps continued because there was no other choice.

"Help…" Izagiri murmured hoarsely, suppressing the pain in his shoulder. "There's no one we can rely on anymore… Even the military's shooting civilians now."

Feona lowered her head, her voice soft but sharp. "Yeah… my neighbors too… They got shot. When they tried to escape, the soldiers said they were infected."

Only the sound of the river and the whispering night wind followed.

Izagiri clenched his fist. "They just wanted to live. Now, all that's left is us and… fear."

Feona nodded slightly, her eyes empty but wet. "But… as long as we can still move, still think… we haven't lost, right?"

Izagiri turned to her, smiling despite his weariness. "Yeah. We haven't lost. And I won't let you be alone in this crazy world."

Feona quickly turned to him, staring at his face in silence. There was a small spark of hope there, faint, but enough to keep them going.

She turned slightly, glancing at Izagiri's pale face bathed in the faint moonlight. Their breathing still heavy from the long escape, but their steps didn't stop.

"By the way… you look Asian. Why are you in Europe?" Feona asked, her tone light, but with genuine curiosity.

Izagiri paused, as if remembering something deep. "I came with my grandfather," he said softly. "My father died as a military volunteer. He never came home. And… my mom died giving birth to me."

Feona glanced at him, her gaze softening. "I'm sorry…"

Izagiri just shrugged, trying to smile faintly. "It's okay. I never even got to know them. But Grandpa always said… my dad was a great man. And my mom, the strongest woman he ever knew."

Feona gripped his arm more tightly, silently strengthening the hold as if to say: You're not alone anymore.

"I'm sure they're proud of you," she whispered.

Izagiri looked at her briefly, then gazed ahead. "I hope so… And now I just want to survive. If possible… I want to make this world a little better, even if it's just for one person."

Feona gave a small smile, and in the midst of the world's destruction, that little conversation felt like a shield, keeping them sane.

Izagiri gazed at Feona intently, his steps slowing as though he were trying to absorb the story she had just shared. His next question slipped out almost naturally—driven more by curiosity than by the desire to keep the conversation going.

"Are your parents originally from Germany?" Izagiri asked, his voice slightly lower now.

Feona nodded slowly, her eyes staring off into the distance, as if pulled back into a dark memory.

"Yeah, my parents are German," she replied, her voice beginning to tremble. "While I was out watching a movie screening in the yard... that's when it happened."

Izagiri slowed his pace even further, feeling the pain within Feona's words.

"What happened?" he asked gently, careful not to push, though his curiosity was growing.

Feona looked down at the ground for a moment, trying to steady her emotions.

"Everything turned into chaos so fast. Heavy rain started pouring, then screams... and explosions. I could only run, but... it was too late. My parents..."

She paused, letting out a shaky breath.

"They didn't make it."

Izagiri could feel the depth of her sorrow, and even though he carried wounds of his own, he knew that sometimes, what someone needed most was simply someone to listen.

"That's incredibly hard," Izagiri said softly, taking in her words.

"But you survived. That means you're stronger than you think."

Feona gave a faint nod, her emotions finally surfacing.

"I'm trying," she murmured. "I'm trying to make sure all of this... wasn't for nothing. For them."

Izagiri gave her a faint smile. Despite the pain still lingering in his own body, something about her words brought a small sense of ease.

"I'll keep going too," he said.

"Together."

They kept walking along the empty road, united by a single goal: survival. And perhaps, the hope that somewhere in this broken world, a place still existed where they could feel safe again.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a loud, unmistakable sound, Feona's stomach growling. The noise echoed clearly through the silence, and Feona immediately looked down, her cheeks flushing a deep red.

Izagiri, startled at first, couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

"Looks like your stomach's also had enough of this situation, huh?" he said with a grin.

Feona lowered her head, clutching her stomach awkwardly.

"Ugh, why now of all times..." she mumbled, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Izagiri just kept smiling, then gave her a quick wink.

"Don't worry. I've got food in my bag."

He quickly reached into his sling bag, searching through his supplies.

Feona looked up, surprised.

"Food?" she asked, eyes lighting up.

"What do you have?"

Izagiri pulled out several cans of preserved food and some dry bread from his bag.

"Not much, but enough to keep us going for a while," he said, handing her one of the packs.

Feona took it with trembling hands.

"Thank you, Izagiri," she whispered, still red-faced, but now with a faint smile forming.

Izagiri grinned.

"No problem. I'm starving too."

He opened one of the other packs and began eating enthusiastically.

"This is just temporary. We've got to keep moving."

Feona nodded and began to eat as well. Despite the uncertainty surrounding them, the food brought a small comfort. In a world full of chaos, little things like this became much more meaningful.

Then, through a gap in the trees and thinning mist, Izagiri saw a faint light in the distance.

It was the glow of a city or rather, what was left of one. The ruins of a place that once bustled with life and color. Now, only rubble remained, smoke trailing gently into the pale morning sky.

Dawn was breaking slowly, painting the horizon in soft hues of orange and pink. From the hilltop where they stood, the two could see a breathtaking view one that blended nature's beauty with the deep scars of human-made destruction.

"It seems..." Izagiri said quietly, his eyes fixed on the horizon,

"...even as we grow older, we'll keep facing things like this."

Feona turned to him, then looked back at the ruined city.

"Yeah... you're right..."

They didn't say much after that. The world had changed and they were changing, too. But one thing remained the same: they were still just kids. Kids forced to grow up in a world that no longer had room for childhood.

Slowly, Izagiri extended his hand.

Feona stared at it for a moment before taking it tightly in hers.

No promises were spoken aloud, but that grip was stronger than any words.

With slow yet steady steps, they descended the hillside trail, toward an uncertain future.

The hell of this world wasn't over yet, and they both knew that.

But even at their young age, they chose to keep walking, to keep living, and that's where their story began.

A story of wounds, of hope, of the choices they would one day make, and of small acts of courage that would grow into something greater.

And who knows... maybe one day, they'd be the ones to change this world.