---
I grip the handlebars tighter, my knuckles turning white as I push the bike harder. The engine screams beneath me, a raw, metallic wail that cuts through the chaos around me. The city is dying, and I'm racing through its remnants, its final breaths. Smoke clogs the air, mixing with ash and dust. I can barely see through the thick cloud, but I don't need to. My eyes are locked on the path ahead.
People are running in every direction. Some scream, others are paralyzed by shock. How do you even begin to process something like this? I don't have time to think about it. I dodge a flipped car, swerve around a collapsed light pole, tires screeching on loose rubble. Each obstacle, each near miss, sends a surge of panic through me, but I fight to control it.
The sky should be clear—it's daytime—but it might as well be night, swallowed by thick, black smoke. Fires rage everywhere, billowing thick clouds from shattered buildings. The heat is unbearable, waves of it rising off the cracked concrete, a furnace trying to consume everything.
Behind me, something explodes. A shockwave rolls through the air, but I don't look back. I can't. Keep moving. Keep moving.
No radio. No phone. Satellites are down. The aliens did this—wiped out every communication in the first strike. I haven't heard a single voice from anyone in days. I'm alone in this.
There's no backup coming. No orders. No rescue. Just the sound of chaos. My heart thunders in my chest, louder than the engine beneath me. I ride because stopping means death. I ride because there's a chance—a slim one—that someone might still be alive where I'm headed.
A helicopter roars overhead, barely stable. It dips low, wobbles, and disappears behind a building. Seconds later, a crash. I don't have time to check. I keep pushing forward.
The streets are wrecked. Asphalt torn up, cars smashed and burning. I pass one of the intersections—barely recognize it. I used to walk through here on my way to the old station. Now, it's another graveyard.
Up ahead, movement catches my eye—a person? No. A soldier. What's left of one. Torn uniform, blood staining the concrete. I force myself to look away. If I look too long, I stop. And stopping means death.
So, I ride on, driven by nothing but the instinct to survive. Because that's all I have left.
Boom.
The sound is deafening, a thunderclap that shakes the earth beneath me. I barely have time to register it before the ground shudders, and I look up—too late.
A building just ahead collapses. It's like someone ripped its spine out. Steel and concrete crumble down in a tidal wave of dust and fire. I yank the brakes, swerving hard—but it's no use. There's no space, no time.
The bike skids sideways. I slam into the side of a car, metal crunching, and my body is thrown from the bike, tumbling onto the ground. Everything spins, my ears ring, and for a moment, the world blurs into nothing.
Then, silence. Not peaceful, but a void. An emptiness that feels like death closing in.
Groaning, I force myself to sit up. My legs burn with sharp pain—scratches, cuts, but nothing serious. I got lucky. Again.
The bike is wrecked.
I glance around. The street is empty—but it's not clean. Blood is splattered everywhere—across sidewalks, smeared on broken glass, pooling in potholes. There are no bodies. No bodies. Just stains where people used to be.
Leaning on the car, I catch my breath, trying to steady myself. That's when I hear it. A voice. Faint, crackling, barely audible from inside the car.
"...repeat, all civilians are advised to move east. I say again, move east immediately. Alien craft have dropped unknown creatures in the western zone. The military is engaging, but casualties are high. Do not go west."
My stomach drops.
West. That's where my home is.
I turn, looking in that direction. The sky over there is darker, thicker with smoke. Distant flashes—like lightning, but not quite. And underneath it all, a low, unnatural hum. My chest tightens.
That's where my family is. My street. My apartment. My life.
I stand, knowing what I have to do.
---
The soldiers opened fire as the Torvok charged. The bullets slammed into its armored hide, but the creature didn't flinch.
In a single leap, it tore through one soldier, snapping him in half like a twig. The others barely had time to react. Another Torvok was already on them, crushing a soldier into the ground, its jaws sinking deep. They didn't stand a chance.
The last two soldiers turned and ran. But the Torvok's speed was unreal. One soldier was caught and shredded in seconds, the other torn apart before he could get more than a few steps. The Torvok didn't even slow down.
Above, a helicopter strafed the creature, but another Torvok leaped 200 feet into the air, colliding with the chopper. The helicopter crumpled under the impact, spiraling to the ground in flames. The Torvok landed gracefully, like it was no more than a leaf falling from a tree, and I knew—this wasn't a fight we could win.
---
I stand, legs aching, dust clinging to my clothes. I glance at the radio again. The warning is still there. Move east. Stay away.
But I can't. I won't.
I start walking toward the west. Toward home.
No weapon. No map. Just me and the echo of my footsteps.
The city is dead. The streets are riddled with bodies. Civilians, soldiers, women, kids, the old, the young. No one was spared.
I keep walking. I don't stop.
But when I pass a soldier, his rifle still clutched in his hand, I hesitate. His helmet is cracked, face covered in blood. My heart races.
I crouch beside him, hands trembling, and take the rifle. An automatic. It's cold, foreign in my hands. I've never fired one before, never even held a real gun. But this is survival. This is all I have left.
I sling it over my shoulder. Take the combat knife strapped to his chest. I look at the soldier for a moment. Sorry.
I hear it before I see it.
A roar. Deep. Terrifying. Like the earth itself is being ripped apart.
I freeze, heart hammering in my chest. It's not close. But it's not far either. I dive under the collapsed stairwell of a building, pressing my back against the concrete, holding my breath. The rifle feels useless, but I grip it anyway. The silence around me is suffocating.
Then, I see it—a green glow.
Words appear in the cracked mirror in front of me, glowing faintly, floating above the glass.
4 Torvok.
Below it, more words flicker to life.
"Massive, Razor-sharp teeth."
I stare, confused. What is this? Why is this happening?
The words pulse, like a warning. Torvok.
I don't know what's happening, but I do know one thing. They're here. And they're hunting.
---
The cold seeps deeper into my bones, but I push it aside. Focus. Keep moving. For them. I rise slowly, legs unsteady, my mind a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. I take one last look at the mirror, the words still hanging in the air, but I know it's time to go.
I start walking, keeping to the walls for cover. The world around me is broken, but I can't stop. I won't. Because if I stop, I lose them. I have to get to them. No matter the cost.
Each step feels heavier, the weight of what's happened sinking deeper into my chest. Then, I see it. The first Torvok.
It's human-sized, sleek and black like a shadow. Its head is like a crocodile's, glowing eyes searching, always searching. It's feasting on the body of a dead human, tearing into the flesh with savage abandon.
I freeze.
My heart stops.
The air is thick with tension. I can't outrun it. I can't hide.
Focus. I have to get to them.
I froze. My body screamed at me to run, but I couldn't. I had to find a way past it. I had to get closer to home. My family...
Focus, I told myself. I moved slowly, trying to use the broken walls for cover. Every step felt like a risk, but I couldn't afford to hesitate.
Then, I heard it—its ears twitched, sharp like a wolf's, but with a strange, unsettling angle. It turned its head, and I knew. It sensed me.
I barely had time to react. The Torvok locked its gaze on me, its beady, reptilian eyes boring into mine. My heart skipped, fear surging through me like electricity.
Instinct took over.
I opened fire. The gun jerked in my hands, the bullets tearing through the air. The Torvok didn't even flinch. The rounds hit it, but its black skin barely seemed to register the impact. It was like trying to shoot through steel.
The creature launched forward, its massive legs propelling it toward me with terrifying speed. I tried to pull back, but the gun was useless.
Before I could react, the Torvok grabbed the rifle in its jaws, its massive mouth snapping around it like a vice. I struggled, pushing against the beast with all my strength, but it was too much.
In that moment of panic, I saw its jaws coming closer to my face, the sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. I had no choice. I pulled the knife from my belt with shaking hands and lunged at it.
I drove the blade into its nose.
The creature howled in pain, its body recoiling. For a moment, it let go of my gun, backing away, still screeching. I didn't waste a second. I turned, adrenaline surging, and ran.
I didn't look back. I couldn't afford to.
But I could hear it behind me, the Torvok's roars, its claws scrabbling on the pavement, getting closer. My legs burned. I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up.
Then, another Torvok appeared, moving fast from the other side of the street. Two of them now. I froze, my thoughts spinning. If I keep running, they'll just keep coming. I couldn't outrun them. I had to do something else.
My heart pounded in my chest. My hands were slick with sweat. I looked at the knife in my hand—the only weapon I had left. The only thing I could rely on.
I had one shot.
I stopped dead in my tracks, heart pounding in my chest. The first Torvok lunged at me, its massive jaws snapping with a bone-crushing force. I didn't have time to think. My body moved instinctively, a surge of adrenaline pushing me forward. No hesitation.
My legs shook with the weight of fear, but I forced myself to stay grounded. Focus. Focus. You can't afford to mess this up. I ducked low, my breath coming in ragged gasps, as the creature's massive body sailed just above me. Its shadow loomed, the air rippling with the force of its movement, but I stayed low—keep moving. Keep moving.
Time slowed as the beast flew over my head. I could feel the heat radiating off its body, hear the screech of its claws skidding on the pavement. This is it. One shot. One chance.
The knife felt cold and foreign in my hand, but I gripped it tighter, remembering why I was still here. For them. For my family. For everyone I've lost. I thrust the blade upward, aiming for the underside of the Torvok's body, my muscles screaming from the tension.
The knife sank into its tough skin with a sickening squelch. I barely registered the shriek of pain that followed. I didn't pause to savor the moment—just move, just run.
But the beast's death scream was like a warning, and the second Torvok was already charging. Keep running. There was no time to celebrate, no time to think about what I'd just done. Survive.
I didn't wait to see if it was dead for good. The second Torvok was already closing in, furious. It was right in front of me now, eyes burning with rage.
Face to face.
I was out of options.
The creature lunged again, and I met it head-on. This time, I had no choice but to fight, using the knife in my hand, my only weapon. This wasn't a battle I could win in the long run.
But I wasn't ready to die yet.