It hurt a lot, but what would’ve hurt more was not being able to save them. It was a burning building he was under, but he didn’t mind; he couldn’t feel anymore.

Such is the life of a firefighter; he did his job, and that’s all that mattered.

‘Hm?’ a thought bubbled.

Soon feeling returned, smokey ash entered his lungs, forcing him to breathe.

He coughed up a fit as gravity strung him along. A strong hand was gripping him. ‘What’s going on?’

A high-pitched scream filled the air. Gaining sight, he saw the burning building he was brought out of.

A man was running towards him. “Run!” he shouted.

‘What?’

A shadow emerged from the flames. A hiss followed, and the man who fell onto him was something he couldn’t believe.

Fangs, pale skin, a vampire, its body suffering several degree burns, its mouth unhinged and biting down on the man.

That was when some clarity returned. Martyn had died and somehow found himself here.

The hand that held him let go, rushing towards the two. As the vampire feasted, the other woman rushed forward with a wooden spear in her hand and plunged it into the vampire’s back.

With a shrill, it exploded in clear smoke. The woman, huffing, looked at the dead man, her husband.

She froze, staring at the shock in his eyes. She couldn’t grieve now because, where there was blood, there would be vampires.

‘Martyn!’ the single thought surfaced in her mind. In the distance, she saw him, her only child, a young man fifteen years of age, staring wide-eyed at the burning house of his father.

She ran to him, spear in hand. “Honey, we need to go.” She shook him for a response.

A swirl of emotion filled his eyes, but soon, with a small flicker of reason, he nodded.

Happy, if only a little, she reached into the bags she had dropped, pulling out a bearskin hat. Martyn didn’t need to be told; he wore it, making sure it covered his neck.

“We need to get to the river,” she said, rushing through the forest.

Martyn was silent the entire time, his mind slowly coming to reason and following behind her.

Screams and hissing filled the air, and the vampires were hot in pursuit.

His memories were clumps, but as his feet moved, they began to uncurl—the big disaster, green mutant monsters, vampires, and moving rainbows that feast on human skin.

As they made their way through the forest, they came to a clearing next to a waterfall.

The plan was to dive down and have the current take them somewhere safe; vampires couldn’t cross the stream.

“We’ve made it!” She celebrated.

Shadows blocked their path, hissing and snarling, a group of vampires.

Martyn gulped, reaching into his sack and pulling out a crossbow. His mother raised her spear, and the monsters laughed.

“It seems your little walk ends here.” A booming voice rose from the sky.

Martyn and his mother paled as recognition flashed across their faces. The figure descended, belonging to a gigantic bat.

He recognised the being, and his knowledge was only reaffirmed when the giant bat morphed into a pale-skinned man with pointed ears and slitted eyes and wore an old-fashioned coat.

There was a vast difference between the cartoon and real life; he was revolted by the sight.

A low growl left them. “You two should make for a lovely meal,” he said, snapping his finger.

The vampire minions dashed, “Crap!” Martyn cursed for the first time and shot from his crossbow.

A minion came to him, tackling him. He reached back, pulled out a wooden stake, and killed it.

He rose quickly, moving to his mother’s side, loading the steak, and shooting at another minion.

They were surrounding him, and the vampire whose name escaped Martyn's mind morphed its body, shifting into an unholy octopus-like creature of horror.

Its tendril slammed down, separating Martyn from his mother. Quickly, he dropped his back, reaching in and pulling out what looked to be a grenade.

He chuckled at the group of minions that were charging at him; a second later, it exploded, and he covered himself as wooden shrapnel flew everywhere.

Another explosion followed from the other side, and quickly he dove, avoiding another tendril attack.

“You’re persistent; I’ll give you humans that.”

It raised its tendril and went to swipe at them. Martyn shot his stake crossbow at the tendril, hissed, and reeled back.

They made eye contact, and he hissed.

“I’ll kill you first.”

Martyn turned to run. He saw his mother at the corner of his vision throwing another stake grenade; it worked, forcing him to transform into something smaller, a wolf, and dash towards them.

Martyn and his mother dashed to the waterfall, ready to jump.

"Martyn, look out!”

At the call, he turned to look and saw the tail morph into a scorpion tale. It slashed at them, twisting his body. He narrowly avoided it and jumped into the flowing river.

His mother’s figure followed right behind him; they both splashed as the current began to drag them away.

Martyn clung to the surface, gasping for air. “Mom!” He shouted out of instinct.

The panic calmed when he felt her grabbing him as they floated down using their combined bags as rafts.

They stayed like this as the water drove them downward; soon enough, they arrived. They were drifting ashore next to a small cabin.

Martyn, stepping out into the cold night, coughed a fit before moving to his mother. His body froze when he saw her in a growing pool of blood.

Stomach churning and heart drumming, he moved to pull her in. ‘No, no, please not like this again.’

Coughing up blood and struggling with his help, she moved to the tree, not the cabin.

Leaning back, she gazed at the skies. “I’m bleeding, and that means they’ll catch up soon.”

“I-I can…” Martyn had no words. He looked at the wound; medical experience told him he couldn’t patch it.

“I’m okay, honey,” she said between rapid, shallow breaths.

"Listen, I need you to do a few things for me. Can you be strong for mommy?”

Martyn nodded, his eyes threatening to break.

“Hrn! Okay, huff… Grab my bag; I need you to look for a green bottle and give it to me.”

Martyn hurried, kicking his feet in the water once more, to grab her bag.

He brought it next to her and handed her the bottle. Smiling, she opened it and drank a mouthful of the liquid.

A hollow chuckle left her as she pulled Martyn in for a hug—a tight one.

“I’m so happy to have you as my son, and I love you so much, your father, and I love you so much, our strong big man.” She pulled back, rubbing his head.

It was then that warm liquids ran down his cheek. Clashing mentality wanted him to stop the tears, so he wiped them as furiously as he could.

“Stop that young man. It’s okay to cry. Never stop yourself from crying; you are human, not a monster.” She spoke with a firm, commanding tone.

Martyn froze, his tears flowing down like an endless stream.

“Now I need you to grab my bag and yours and walk into that cabin. There’s a trap door you're going to open and descend, and once down, there's going to be a switch. You will pull that switch after closing the door and will not come out until it’s daytime understood.”

A silent nod and pleading eyes followed her command. He knew the answer but still wanted to ask.

“What about you?”

He only received a loving smile and a kiss on the forehead. No more words were traded. Martyn moved hurriedly.

Doing as told, he entered the cabin doors and, before closing, cast one more glance at his mother, only for his stomach to drop, the bottle empty, a peaceful smile on her face.

Pulling himself together, he opened the trap door. Artificial lights illuminated the ladder and the switch she mentioned.

He closed the door and flipped the switch, and the ground shook above him.

The space was like a small apartment, with emergency water and what he assumed were supplies; the floor was padded, and in front of him was a mattress and blanket.

On top of it lay a book, addressed to whoever came inside.

He would’ve liked to read this but was too mentally fatigued and stretched; his mind had formed together in the last moments.

His situation had settled in, and the events of tonight had seeped into his soul.

Again, he had lost his family not once but twice.

In a world he remembered as one of his favourite pieces of fiction, no joy came from this, at least not right now, and it would be a while before it did.

Right now, Martyn lay silent, curled up in the cold bed as his mind untangled.

-Lc-

He believed that the humans had escaped, but to his surprise, they washed up ashore next to some destroyed shack, and though it was only the woman, it was still a meal for him nonetheless.

“Hua!”

Pain surged through him. Revolted, he jumped back. The same reaction came from one of his minions, who also tried to partake in her blood.

“The foolish humans just won’t stop resisting! Even after death!” He roared, his body bulging and morphing into a bear.

Normally he wouldn’t be blinded by rage, but with recent events, he mauled the body, desecrating it and throwing it back into the water.

“S-sir?”

A minion walked up to him and asked, “What?” He snarled.

“I’ve got the report from the demon girl.”

“And? Is that old coot still with her?” He asked somewhat wishfully, ‘Hundson Abadeer, he can’t stay away from the nightosphere for too long.’

The minion shook his head and said, "He’s still training her.”

A tired sigh left him, and both he and his minions left the area, unaware of the survivor beneath their feet.