The plan went off without a hitch.
The mont the creature's arm erged from the bathroom, Jaune moved.
The broken piece of wood flew from his hand in a blur of motion. It spun once, twice, then struck his father's door with a sharp crack.
The sound echoed loudly, like a gunshot down the ruined hallway.
The creature reacted instantly, snarling with bloodlust.
A guttural roar erupted from its chest as it lunged, crashing through the bathroom doorfra and hurling itself at the noise, with lumber-snapping force.
Wood buckled and hinges groaned.
The doorfra split apart beneath its mass.
It tore through the entry with a snarl of wild hunger, blind to anything but the sound.
And Jaune was already gone.
He sprang to his feet and bolted down the hallway.
Each step as silent as he could, impacting against rotted floorboards.
The noise behind him was akin to thunder in his ears—snarling, crashing and tearing.
Fortunately, the chaos cloaked him.
He flew down the stairs, feet stinging as splinters bit into his exposed skin. The pain barely registering.
Debris cracked beneath him, giving way to his weight.
He hit the bottom landing then turned and sprinted forwards, his heart hamring wildly in his chest.
The front door was still open—half hanging, ruined from before.
He slipped past it without breaking stride.
Cool air slamd against his face and his feet struck broken asphalt.
Cracked skin mixed with dirt, marring his gait with blood.
Yet, he ran.
Only to stop for a mont, skidding to a halt the mont he was past his front gate.
The blood in his veins turned to ice.
Jaune had just realized that the beast...it ca from outside.
The thought hit him like a punch to the gut.
That thing—whatever it was—it hadn't been waiting inside his house.
It had co in from the street.
It was out there.
His breath hitched and a cold sweat broke across his skin.
His stomach churned violently, bile rising in the back of his throat. He bent forward slightly, one hand bracing against a rusted fence post.
He wanted to vomit.
He wanted to run.
How long had it been out here, sniffing for him?
How many other creatures like it were there?
He looked around, heart hamring, blood roaring in his ears.
The world beyond his yard was a maze of broken pavent, shattered windows, and warped tal skeletons that had once been cars. The streetlights flickered red and black in a sickening pulse, painting the ruined neighborhood in colors of blood and void.
"What now?" he whispered to himself, voice shaking.
He didn't know because he didn't have a plan this ti.
Jaune forcefully swallowed down the bile in his throat, suppressing his desire to curl into a ball.
'Alright. Options. Just… think.'
His eyes darted left—back around the side of the house. The backyard was still empty. If he was lucky, the creature would get bored after wrecking what was left of his ho and leave. Maybe then he could sneak back inside and find… what? Safety? Shelter?
Or he could try to reach one of the rusted cars nearby. There was one just a few yards away, a sedan with its windows long since shattered. If he could get the door open without too much noise, maybe he could hide on the floor of the backseat.
Lay low and wait.
'That's assuming it doesn't hear the door. Or sll .'
Another option—keep running. Down the street. Away from this place entirely.
'But to where?'
Everything looked the sa, dead and warped.
Every shadow might be hiding sothing worse.
He swallowed back the nausea clawing at his throat and took a shaky breath.
"Co on, think Jaune. You won't even get a second to screw-up. Not with that thing on your tail."
He wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaking hand, heart still pounding.
None of the options were good.
The choice was taken from him.
A sound split the air behind him, a twisted amalgamation of a blend of consisting a wolf's howl and a feral dog's bark.
His head snapped up toward his bedroom window, the one overlooking the street.
And his blood stilled in fear.
With wide eyes, he watched in slow, helpless horror as the window fra exploded outward in a shower of glass and splintered wood.
The creature launched through the wreckage, mid-leap—claws extended, eyes burning with an evil rancor.
So distant, detached part of him realized the horrifying truth:
It had torn through his father's room in less than ten seconds.
And then it had gone straight for his.
It had seen him.
That was the only explanation.
Sohow, sowhere the mont he'd stepped into the open—it had caught sight of him through the dirty glass of his bedroom window.
Which didn't make sense because from what Jaune rembered, that window was dusty and dirty to the point that barely anything could be seen from it.
The creature must have had exceptional eyesight...
And now it ca crashing through the window and wall like a force of nature. Glass exploded outward, and the window fra shattered. It had barreled through the obstacle like cannonball of rage and muscle.
Jaune turned to run.
Or he tried to.
But his legs—his legs didn't move.
'Why... why aren't they moving?'
His muscles clenched and spasd uselessly. He tried again, willing them, begging them to respond.
'Move! Co on, MOVE!'
Instead, his knees buckled.
His balance vanished, and he pitched backwards.
'No. No no no—'
The ground struck him hard. The back of his head clipped sothing solid. Dull pain flared up his spine.
And still… he didn't move.
'What the hell is happening?'
Then, through the haze of panic, a thought surfaced.
A mory from an old science class. A teacher of his once ntioned that animals exhibit interesting behavior when confronted with a predator
For so animals, the instinct was to fight. Others, it was flight, or to run away.
A third, rare category, was to... freeze.
Sotis, when creatures of prey were cornered—when the brain truly believed there was no escape—the body wouldn't fight nor would it flee.
It would shut down.
Paralysis.
Complete and terrifying.
Useless.
'Is that what this is?'
'My body's betraying ?!'
The beast landed with a thunderous crash.
The asphalt cracked, breaking into a small spiderweb of cracks beneath its monstrous weight. Glass and dust erupted in a small cloud around it.
Jaune lay there, helpless, watching it through the swirl of debris.
Its bone encrusted wolf head rose.
Eyes like glowing like hot red coals locked onto his.
It saw him.
It knew him. As if sensing his thoughts—his emotions.
And by god, was it ever hungry.
But for a single heartbeat, it only stared, as if savoring the hunt.
Then it lunged.
Jaws split wide. Claws spread. Every inch of it radiated death.
'No. No, not like this. Please, not like this!'
His life flashed behind his eyes in jagged, disconnected pieces.
His dad smiling across a breakfast table, his sisters calling out to him as he played knight and princess with them. His talk with his grandfather as he lay weak in a hospital bed. His uncle teaching him to box when he was a child. Him playing video gas in his room.
His mother reading him a bedti story when he was a kid....
The fun he had.
'I can't die! Not now!'
The beast ca down on him—
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