"Ayra, get down!"
The wide tinted glass shattered with a piercing crack and rained to the ground in glittering shards. Screams erupted. The church burst into chaos.
People ducked behind pews, others crawled beneath them. Panic surged like a flood. Voices blended into a frantic blur. Ayra couldn't make sense of the words—only the pounding of her own heart and the flash of blood-red skin.
Creatures stood at the broken entrance, eyes hollow, mouths gaping wide like gutters. Monstrous.
Her knees buckled. She wanted to run, to hide—anything. But all she managed was to clutch her wedding dress with trembling fingers.
Why today?
If God planned to end the world, why now—on the day she said I do? The moment she'd married her sweetheart?
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks. The world spun into chaos, but hers had already gone still.
A man ran past her, growling. His head was bald, his black suit wrinkled and stained with blood and dirt. A guest? She didn't know him. His eyes darted as he shouted, "You—get away from there, lady!"
From the corner of her eye, she saw him curse and turn back. He lunged toward her.
Then..
A shove.
The floor slammed into her side.
A loud crack split the air.
A low, feral growl followed.
Then....
Silence.
She stared at the ground. Blood was splattered everywhere. Her body trembled so hard she thought she might collapse.
But she needed to look. She owed him that—the man who had pushed her. The one who saved her.
It was terrifying, but she forced herself to turn.
He lay still. Lifeless. Eyes open and empty.
She flinched away. Turned sharply. It was too much—too real. Her mind couldn't grasp it.
Then a voice rang in her head.
It has come before.
She'd heard it once, faint and confusing. Now it was clear.
"Ayra."
She looked up.
There he was—her groom. Not yet her husband.
His hair was a mess. His white shirt, bloodstained and torn, clung to his chest. His suit jacket was gone.
He looked like he had been fighting—his chest rising and falling, his hands shaking. Fighting to protect, just like the man who'd pushed her.
Ayra's shoulders dropped when their eyes met.
Ethan's dark gaze was sharp with fear, but when it landed on her, it softened.
How long had it been? Four years.
She'd fallen for him back in college, and it wasn't until two years after graduation that Ethan finally confessed his love—and proposed.
She had never been happier.
Today was supposed to be the beginning of forever. The day she finally stood beside the man she had loved for so long.
But then everything changed. The world turned upside down. People were dying, and she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
And yet—Ethan was here. Holding her close to his chest.
"Don't cry, Ayra," he whispered. He took her hand and looked into her eyes. "I'll protect you. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Her breath caught. "What's happening?" she asked, her voice thick and unsteady.
All she remembered was smiling at Ethan as she said her vows. She had just whispered I do when the glass shattered—and a low, guttural growl tore through the air.
Then chaos erupted.
"I don't know either," Ethan said quickly, his eyes scanning the mayhem. "But what I do know is—we need to get out of here."
He was right. They had to leave. But how?
There were more than ten of those creatures. They moved like shadows with fangs. And if they grabbed someone, they sank those fangs deep into flesh.
That was the end.
She had never heard of anything like this before.
In Lukeworm Haven City, life was routine. People woke up, went to school or work, attended festivals and social events—so many social events.
And the sun—it was always gentle. Warm and kind. Never harsh.
The nights were even better. Rockets often spiraled across the sky, streaking gold and white like scattered stars. Ethan used to take her out just to watch them.
A chaos like this? It had never happened. Not here. Not in their world.
'Breathe,' she told herself. She hadn't truly breathed since this began. Her lungs were tight, her chest aching—but Ethan was with her. And that meant hope.
"Stella and Ken are heading for the back door," Ethan said.
Stella—her bridesmaid. Ken—the groomsman. Their friends.
"We should go too. It's safer outside than staying here," Ethan added, gripping her hand tightly as he searched for a gap in the path. One moment free of the creatures.
He was right. It would be safer once they got out of here.
Maybe it was because the church stood so close to the dense woods—maybe that's where the creatures had come from. Whatever this was, it couldn't be happening in the city. It 'shouldn't' be.
"Our parents!" Ayra cried out just as Ethan grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back door. The path was thick with panic. The air stank of blood and smoke.
People ran. Creatures hunted. But here and there, gaps opened in the chaos—small, desperate chances to escape.
"There's no time!" Ethan growled, dragging her toward the back stairwell where Stella and Ken were waving at them, already halfway through the exit.
"What?" Ayra blinked, stunned. He wasn't seriously planning to leave their parents—leave everyone—behind.
These people had come to witness their joy. Their union.
Ethan cursed under his breath and turned sharply. "Look around you, Ayra. No one is beyond danger."
He tightened his grip on her hand, ready to pull her forward.
But she slapped it away.
Ethan froze, eyes wide. "No—baby, you can't—"
She turned back toward the chaos. Toward the screams, the blood, the shadows. Her hands trembled. Her breath caught in her throat.
But she moved anyway.
There was no way she could run—not without trying to save their parents. Or anyone else still breathing. Ethan could leave if he wanted to.
But she wasn't going.
She heard him call her name from behind, his voice thick with panic. Still, she didn't turn.
She shut her eyes for a second.
When she opened them, she was staring across the aisle at a creature with hollow eyes.
Her fingers closed around the first object she had found on the floor—a small kitchen fork. She had no idea where it had come from. It didn't matter. It was all she had.
Her grip tightened around it.
Her gaze locked onto the creature.
And then she moved—swift and sharp—driven by a defiance she didn't know she had.