"Mum!"
His eyes shot open in agitation, his body jerking violently as he threw his hands forward as though trying to grab someone who wasn't there. But as soon as he realized he was all alone, lying down, he grumbled understanding it had all been a dream.
'Shit!' Steven hissed sitting upright on his bed with an angry expression as he rubbed his eyes softly to get rid of any traces of sleep left in them.
'Of all the times, why am I dreaming of them?' he asked himself, his jaw tightening in disgust.
His gaze shifted to the small television positioned across the room which made an erratic glitching noise as the screen continuously faded from the image of a news broadcast and a blinding white screen which signified unmistakeably a failing signal from the broadcasting channel.
He stared at the contents of the news doing his best to get as much information as he could from it. And after a while, his lips straightened in a frown and then he spoke in a low voice carrying his frustration, "another one again."
The contents of the news talked about how an entire city had been lost to the shadow eaters, countless people killed of both which were adults and children, properties laid waste to, and more importantly the sense of the human race edging closer to extinction, causing shivers up the spine of anyone that dared to watch the broadcast.
It had been Many decades ago when, the apocalyptic disaster had ensued all of the earth. The disaster starting off as a massive space debris that crashed into a continent of the earth, and before any understood what was going on or even investigated the occurrence of this dreadful meteorite, it released a terrible curse upon the entire earth.
A curse history came to know as The Plague Of The Gods.
From this debris were birthed the shadow eaters; monsters born from hell and despair that sought nothing else but to wreak havock and death. pouring out of the meteorite and invading all of the earth. In retaliation at that time humans had tried Bombs, guns, knifes and all weapons in their arsenal, but none worked against the Eaters.
At that moment, it was the first time the human race faced a catastrophe that threatened to wipe out the entire race.
But by some miracle the existence of Systems arose, choosing a special few among humanity, granting them with supernatural abilities. Together Mankind defended against the endless Hordes of Shadow eaters and were eventually able to build isolated bastions; strongholds against this cursed race.
Of one of the many strongholds lived Steven, an orphan who had lost his entire family to the Shadow eaters.
Well He wasn't very much concerned about any of that anymore, after all what was the gain in worrying over the past when his future was far more grim in nature.
Steven turned his eyes over to a small table he had crafted himself in the midst of the room. The crooked sorry existence of the table, holding a half empty bottle of whisky which from the branding was almost too expensive for someone of Steven's status.
He grabbed the bottle roughly and placed it at his dried lips taking large gulps of it's contents until he finished it. And then he lowered the bottle a rough burp escaping his lips as he did.
"Good stuff—"
Knock! Knock!
The sudden, violent knocking at the front door cut him off mid-thought, snapping his attention toward the source of the noise. Through the thin wooden door, filtered sunlight cast several overlapping shadows onto the floor too many for comfort.
The knocking came again but this time a angry hoarse voice followed. "Hey you brat! Where is the rent you promised me! You are already eight months due."
Steven's face darkened immediately, 'Eight months...' his eyes instinctively swayed to the bottle in his grasp and his lips curled up, "worth it."
The knocking came again, but this time it escalated into violent bashing at the wooden door, "you bastard I know you are in there, and you bought expensive drinks last night! I'm gonna beat your ass you brat!"
The violent bashes began to to get more intensive, grunts from both his landlord and a few more people he brought along to beat the living breathe from Steven, probably till death.
Steven sighed, "too bad for them," he whispered dropping the bottle to the ground and rolling up the sleeve of his left hand at an unhurried pace. And just in time the wooden door exploded inward. The hinges screaming as it swung violently, barely holding together as three men forced their way inside.
However as soon as they had knocked open the door none of them came in, the landlord a fat horrid drunk, and his three companions frozen at what they saw in Steven's room.
Their gazes locked onto Steven's left arm, where a distinct circular sigil was etched into his skin. It was dark, strange, and unmistakable, like a living tattoo burned into flesh.
The landlord and his goons needed no explanation to know what this was and that was why they refused to rush in despite the debt owed.
Steven let a crooked smile form on his lips as he jarred open his lips and painfully wrenched out the words from his mouth, "I don't think I'll be able to pay that rent... As you can see."
His eyes gleamed in the
hollow light as he leaned forward.
"I've been cursed."
//Author's Note//
Save to your library and read a few chapters, enjoy this adventure with me.