The Last Nightmare

Nate always knew he couldn't rely on luck.

In fact, he had long suspected he was cursed.

If any god or goddess ever smiled upon him, it would have to be the goddess of disaster—a cruel, twisted grin right before misfortune struck.

So no—he wasn't about to bet his life on luck now.

The cavern swallowed him in darkness, the only sounds the distant drip of water and his own unsteady breaths. The walls, jagged and uneven, seemed to close in around him, offering no escape.

And in front of him—

A predator.

The creature moved like a shadow given form, its eyes glowing faintly, slitted like a serpent's. Its elongated limbs twitched with unnatural grace, ridges along its back pulsing faintly, as if something vile coursed through its veins.

It was watching him.

Waiting.

Nate could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Then, the creature lunged.

A blur of movement—

A sharp whistle of steel cutting through the air—

A voice, clear and commanding.

"Get down!"

The words snapped through the cavern like a command.

Before Nate could react, something crashed into the creature mid-attack. The impact sent a ripple of dust and loose stone scattering across the cavern floor.

A flash of silver—no, a blade—glinted as it struck, burying deep into the monster's neck.

The creature screeched, its scream so piercing that Nate felt it in his skull, rattling his bones. He staggered backward, eyes wide with shock.

A person—no, a girl—moved in a fluid arc, wrenching her weapon free before the beast could recover. Her silhouette flickered in the dim light, swift and unrelenting.

Another strike.

The blade cut deep. The monster thrashed violently, claws raking through the air in a desperate attempt to retaliate.

The girl was faster.

She ducked low, her movements honed, instinctive. The creature's claws missed her by mere inches, scraping against stone instead. Sparks flew in the darkness.

Nate couldn't breathe.

Everything was happening too fast.

His mind screamed at him to move, to help, to do something—

But all he could do was watch.

The girl pressed the attack, her blade gleaming as she struck again, aiming for the beast's exposed side. It howled in agony, thick, dark blood spilling onto the cavern floor.

And then—

A sudden shift.

The creature, though injured, let out a guttural snarl. Its body coiled like a spring, muscles tensing—

And in a blur, it retreated, bolting into the depths of the cavern, disappearing into the endless dark.

Silence fell.

---

For the first time since the battle started, Nate exhaled.

His pulse pounded in his ears, his chest rising and falling in sharp, unsteady breaths. His legs felt weak, trembling from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Slowly, his gaze lifted—

And he finally saw her.

She was young, around his age, but there was nothing fragile about her.

Midnight blue hair cascaded down her back, strands catching the faint light like rippling silk. Her eyes—striking, a luminous silver that seemed to glow—remained locked on the creature's retreating form, sharp with unwavering focus.

She was beautiful.

But there was no softness in that beauty.

No warmth, no relief from the battle's intensity.

Just an unshakable resolve—as if this moment, this fight, was nothing new to her.

She held herself with effortless confidence, her blade still poised in one hand, dark blood dripping from its edge. Despite the intensity of what had just happened, she wasn't out of breath.

As if fighting monsters was routine.

Her silver eyes flicked to him, assessing, sharp and unreadable.

"You're lucky I was nearby," she muttered.

Her voice was smooth, low—not exactly cold, but distant, as if she wasn't particularly interested in small talk.

Nate let out a short, humorless laugh. "I don't believe in luck."

A pause. Then, to his surprise, a soft breath of amusement escaped her lips—not quite a laugh, but something close.

"Good," she said, sheathing her weapon with a practiced motion. "Then you won't expect me to stick around next time."

And just like that, she turned and started walking away.

Wait—

Nate's pulse kicked up again, a surge of panic rising in his chest.

"Hold on!" He took a step forward, legs unsteady. "You're just leaving?"

She didn't stop.

"Do you have a death wish?" he snapped, frustration seeping into his voice. "That thing nearly killed me! What if it comes back?"

This time, she did stop. Slowly, she turned her head, her silver eyes meeting his.

And then, in a calm, measured tone, she said—

"Then you'd better learn how to fight."

The words cut deeper than any blade.

Nate stared at her, stunned, as her figure disappeared into the cavern's darkness, swallowed by the shadows.

He clenched his fists.

His breath was uneven. His heart pounded. His thoughts were a mess.

But one thing burned brighter than everything else—

He wasn't safe.

Not here. Not anywhere.

And if he wanted to survive—

He needed to change.