Three days had passed since he found himself trapped in eternal darkness, stumbling aimlessly, with no clear direction. The shadows of dark creatures gave him no moment of rest, attacking him relentlessly, as if they were part of this world trying to devour him.
"Damn it... is there no end to this?" The young man growled, his body moving like a machine, trying to fend off attacks that seemed endless.
Those damn creatures had started with just a few, but now they were in the thousands.
He had been fighting for three days without a break, and while his body had adapted somewhat to this cursed darkness and its particles, his natural strength had not fully returned. He felt like a different person, weaker than ever, his body aching from exhaustion, his steps growing heavier.
On the fourth day, while he continued his relentless pace of fighting and fleeing, his mind drowned in questions. "How far does this damn darkness stretch? Is this place endless?"
Time dragged on, his body screaming in pain and fatigue. Every strike he delivered drained him more and more.
Suddenly, as he ran, he felt something strange.
The darkness seemed to deepen, as if everything around him was sinking into a merciless black.
The aura surrounding him grew heavier, more saturated with death, as if it was consuming the very air around him.
And then... he felt something in his soul.
A strange sensation, unnatural, piercing the very depths of his being.
A sensation he had never felt before—or perhaps forgotten—a sensation that brought back memories, distant fantasies of a place far removed from this cursed realm. It was darker, scarier, far more dangerous than the army of shadows chasing him from behind.
A sensation deeper, darker, more terrifying than the shadow army trailing him.
His soul screamed inside him: "No... don't look, don't raise your head!"
Even if it meant facing the army of creatures lurking behind him.
Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn around, to face the shadow army chasing him, even if that meant his doom, but at least he would have a chance to resist.
His soul, instincts, and whole being screamed for him to turn and fight, instead of running from this unknown approaching presence.
But despite the warnings, and even though fear shackled his movement, he raised his head.
He wanted to see it.
He wanted to know... what was it that filled him with such terror, with this primal fear?
It was a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time, or perhaps had never felt.
He slowly lifted his head...
And his eyes met the source of this terror.
He saw them...
...
Before him stood a strange tree amidst the darkness. It was completely different from all the dead trees he had seen along the way. It wasn't just a dead trunk, but a dark entity taking the form of a tree. Its trunk was pitch black, as if it had swallowed every particle of light around it, resembling a black hole embedded in the earth, devouring any hope or life.
From deep within its roots, a terrifying crackling sound rose, as if the earth itself was groaning under the weight of something monstrous that shouldn't exist.
As for its branches... they resembled twisted arms, stretching towards the sky in horrific poses, like the fingers of a devil trying to grasp anything that came near. Some moved slowly, slithering smoothly as though they were breathing, while faint light, neither daylight nor darkness, emanated from the cracks in its bark—a sickly, wrong light.
But despite its horrific appearance, it wasn't the tree itself that
instilled the fear into his bones... it was something else.
Thousands of eyes pierced through him.
"By hell?" he muttered, his voice barely escaping his throat, staring at
the moving shadows between the branches.
Then he saw the source...
Crows.
But not just any crows.
Hundreds of them, standing in line on the branches, their bodies black as the deepest darkness, but their eyes... they glowed a deep red, as if they were fragments of burning hell.
He felt it... those deadly red eyes, not just gazing at him, but as though death itself was staring back at him.
They made no sound. No flapping of wings. No caws. No whispers... just the suffocating silence that choked the very air around him.
These weren't just birds, but something far more sinister, something that existed beyond the boundaries of this world.
It was overwhelming, as if those crows weren't merely looking at him, but reading him, digging into his soul, tearing it apart layer by layer, searching for something he didn't know.
The longer he stared, the heavier his body felt, his consciousness drifting, as though he was being pulled to another place, a place that shouldn't exist, a place he shouldn't even know about.
This was a sight that could never be forgotten.
He had faced countless horrors, fought battles in hells of blood and ruin, seen creatures emerge from the deepest nightmares, but now he was facing something different.
This wasn't just a terrifying sight, a fear that touched the surface of his soul and then faded away.
No...
This was deeper, older, more deadly.
This was fear incarnate, in its purest form.
This scene was written in the ink of darkness on the pages of reality, etched into his memory like carvings on the rocks of time.
It wasn't just a passing moment, but a visual curse, a scene that would haunt him even in his dreams, carved into his mind even after leaving this place, if he even managed to leave at all.
He raised his hand, and found it trembling, as though his limbs had lost strength before this terrifying being.
He understood now. That sensation he felt deep within his soul wasn't just ordinary fear—it was primal fear, the kind that comes from the deepest
depths of all living things, a fear from which there is no escape.
He began to retreat slowly, weighed down by those eyes that pierced his mind, tearing at his soul. Every part of him felt like it was being dragged into the darkness, into a death he didn't desire.
And then he turned.
There was no doubt in his heart; he knew there was no other choice.
He would either run and face his dark fate ahead, or stay here under those deadly eyes until his mind shattered completely.
He ran.
He ran towards the army of dark creatures, his heart pounding, his pulse racing, but his mind was already soaked in that eternal fear that had been chasing him.
...
The battle was long, longer than he could bear, but he didn't stop.
Weeks of continuous fighting in the deepest darkness, where bodies shattered and every strike felled a dark creature, only for another to take its place. Each step he took felt heavier, as if the blood was pulling him down. But pain didn't matter now. He was facing an endless hell.
Wounds from dozens of cursed mouths marred his body, and blood soaked him from every side, but he didn't stop. He didn't falter.
Every time a creature fell, more would appear, as if they were endless. He killed one only for ten more to spring up around him like a storm, biting,
tearing at him, but there was no time for surrender.
But the crows... they didn't enter the fray.
Those crows that had been circling above him in eerie silence, with their glowing red eyes, didn't attack, as he had expected. Instead, they watched in silence, observing him as he fought to the last breath.
Their gaze was cold, as if they were relishing every moment of his torment, every drop of blood that spilled from his body. It was a suffocating feeling, more so than ever before, those red eyes never leaving him.
And in the midst of that hell, the darkness grew denser.
The creatures, the army of shadows, surrounded him from all sides. And amid the battle, as the ground shook under the weight of the fight, it seemed as though the battle would never end.
He fought... facing death, but death itself was challenging him.
Then came the final test.
His strength was almost gone, his body broken, his bones shattered, but his will was a challenge to the entire world.
Even when he reached the peak of the battle, he still fought with the last ounce of energy he had, no matter the consequences.
And in the final moment, as the creatures surrounding him grew in number, their mouths devouring him piece by piece, he looked into the depths of the darkness, then raised his head to the sky.
The defiant look was in his eyes.
He stared at the world, as if saying, "You will not crush me!"
But in the end, he reached his limits.
...
Standing there in the midst of darkness and a sea of abominations, his body broken, covered in blood, dozens of cursed mouths gnawing at his flesh, and the wounds caused by sharp blades filling his body.
Yet, he did not fall.
He stood, brave, even as he faced the army of shadows, his eyes burning with an unshakable look of defiance.
He slowly raised his head and looked up at the sky, that dark sky which showed only complete blackness.
Then he smiled.
And closed his eyes.