APEX RISING

The air was crisp and cold, the sky covered by dark clouds that pulsed like veins. Lightning forked without sound, and the cold heavy rain poured without mercy.

“Mom! Dad! Eliana! Lisa! No, please, don’t leave me” Damian yelled, kneeling under the rain, the headless-body of his mother clenched tightly to his arms. Damian was soaked by the rain and in blood, crying in agony, cold, shaking, alone.

“Why? Why did you do this? What did we ever do to you?” His voice echoing into the open, as he screamed in rage.

The man stood before Damian—quiet, his golden eyes starting at him with a glowing intensity. Then a smirk crawled on his lips.

The sight of the man’s expression sent a shiver down his spine.“Wh-What are you?” Damian cried, his jaw trembling, tears flowing, limbs shaking in horror, water dripping from all over, his soaked clothes clinging to his childish structure as slowly crawling backwards.

…

…

(Now, I know your probably wondering “what the hell’s going on?” so let’s rewind a little.)

Rain hammered against the car windows like a furious drum, washing the world in cold, relentless sheets. With it’s headlights on, a black car zoomed through the wet open highway, it’s windscreen wipers squealing as it wipe the rain from the cars windscreen.

Inside the warm car, Damian’s family laughed softly, the orange glow of the car’s inner lights illuminating the inside of the car. For a brief moment, the storm outside was nothing but a distant roar, and the smell of wet soil filling the air.

“Hey dad are we home yet?” Damian asked with a smile, his eyes warm and cheerful.

“For the one hundredth time Damian, were not home yet.” He replied, his attention in the road ahead. The sound of Damian’s sibling’s (Elian and Lisa) happy chatters mingling with the rain outside. It was a rare moment of peace.

Then, trouble came knocking.

His mother’s smile faltered, widening to an expression of worry and fear. She yelled, her hand pointing at the road ahead. “ Honey, look out!”

Damian’s gaze followed her hand through the windscreen. “Hey Dad! Hit the breaks!” he screamed.

Standing on the road, in the car’s path, was a man drenched from head to toe, water dripping from his dark, slick hair and the sharp angles of his pale face. His golden eyes gleamed unnaturally, cutting through the rain like twin flames. His clothes clung to his tall frame, soaked and heavy, but his presence was cold—an impossible chill in the storm.

“Oh god!” Damian’s dad hallowed, quickly hitting the breaks and turning the staring wheel ” to avoid hitting the man.

The car turned with great force,

BANG!

Crashing into the road’s iron railings, and tumbling of the road.

The car stopped. Dismantled. Smoking.

“Ah!” A masculine voice cried. The car’s Dismantled front door was kicked open. Damian’s dad crawled out.

He was injured, a metal rod had punctured his left leg, his whole body was covered in blood as the broken windshield glass tor most part oh his flesh.

“Ah!” he hallowed, his face folding from the pain.

“Honey! Kids! Are you guys okay!” he yelled, getting up and leaping to the cars back door, his eyes covered in tears.

“huh! Wha-what happened?” Damian’s voice whispered. His vision was slowly returning.

Then, he began to fill a surge of pain building up in his head. He raised his hand to touch the particular place. “Ouch!” he exclaimed.

The crash had torn the world apart.

Damian blinked through the haze of smoke and blood, his head pounding, his body pinned awkwardly against the twisted seatbelt. Every breath burned. Every sound echoed through his skull like thunder.

“Elian?” he croaked, blinking through the blood running down his brow.

He turned his head—slow, agonizing.

And then he saw him.

Elian lay slumped beside him, his small frame limp and lifeless. Blood pooled beneath his head, seeping into the seat. His eyes were still open, glassy and unfocused.

“No…” Damian whispered, the word breaking apart in his throat. “No, no, no…”

He reached for his brother with shaking hands, but his fingers barely moved.

A sob escaped him.

His father had already crawled out. His voice could be heard shouting, panicking, but distant—like a dream.

Then—

That awful presence returned.

The man with golden eyes stepped through the storm, descending the slope like a ghost.

Damian's heart froze.

The man said nothing as he approached the wreck, his pale face expressionless. Raindrops slid off his hair, never quite touching his skin. That impossible chill swept over everything.

He walked straight past Elian’s body.

Didn’t even glance at him.

He moved to the other side of the wreck—where Lisa was crying, trapped but alive, her tiny hands reaching for the light above.

The man crouched, expression unreadable.

Damian tried to move—anything—but his limbs wouldn’t obey.

The pain was distant now, numb.

Only the sound of Lisa’s crying cut through the fog.

Then the man’s hand closed around her head.

“Please,” Damian choked. “Please don’t.”

He didn’t listen.

He didn’t hesitate.

Crack.

Lisa went still.

Damian screamed.

Or tried to.

But it came out as a broken gasp, choked on blood and disbelief.

The man rose slowly, his eyes locking onto Damian.

“You lived,” he said softly, as if surprised.

He stepped closer, and Damian felt his presence like the shadow of death.

“I see it in your eyes already,” the man murmured. “The hatred. The fear.”

Damian couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Tears ran freely down his face.

The man crouched, close enough now for Damian to see the raindrops evaporating against his skin.

“We’ll meet again, Damian.”

Then he placed two fingers gently on Damian’s forehead.

“And when we do… I’ll expect great things.”

Pain surged—white-hot, searing—then darkness swallowed everything.

…

Outside the wreck, Damian's father was on his knees beside the crushed front of the car, barely standing, blood flowing down his temple. His hand trembled as he raised something—a small black pistol he kept hidden beneath the seat.

His vision was blurred, but his rage burned clear. His family—his children—his wife—they were being slaughtered.

And that man… that thing…

“You bastard!” he roared.

The golden-eyed man turned his head slowly, as if mildly curious.

A shot rang out.

BOOM!

The bullet struck the man square in the left side of the face—bone shattered, skin split, a burst of flesh and blood exploding from his skull.

He staggered back a step.

Damian’s father panted, his whole body shaking. “You sick—you monster!”

For a heartbeat, the man stood frozen. A thick cloud of red smoke hissed from the wound like burning embers.

Then—impossible.

Before Damian’s wide, blood-smeared eyes, the man's face began to regrow.

Flesh slithered back over bone. Skin stitched itself together. In less than five seconds, the left side of his face was whole again—flawless, unmarred, as if nothing had happened.

His golden eyes glowed brighter now.

The man smiled faintly.

He turned toward Damian and said, coldly, “Just to motivate you…”

He raised a hand toward Damian’s father.

Spoke a word—one not meant for human tongues.

Damian’s father’s chest caved inward, ribs snapping through flesh as he was launched off his feet, crashing into the mud with a final breathless grunt.

Dead.

Then the man walked toward Damian’s mother, who was sobbing in the grass, holding her hands up in silent pleading.

“Please…” she whispered. “Please don’t hurt my son…”

The man didn’t speak this time.

He stepped behind her, grabbed a handful of her hair, and without emotion, sliced her head clean off with a single glowing fingertip—like it was nothing but paper.

Her body slumped.

The head rolled beside Damian in the grass.

His vision swam in crimson.

His breath hitched, heart stuttering.

And then—everything faded.

….

The air was crisp and cold, the sky above blanketed by dark clouds that pulsed like veins. Lightning forked silently across the heavens, illuminating the wreckage below in fleeting, ghostly flashes. The rain fell in torrents—cold, sharp, and merciless.

Damian knelt on the soaked earth, trembling.

“Mom! Dad! Elian! Lisa! No, please, don’t leave me!” he screamed, clutching the headless body of his mother tightly in his arms. Her lifeless form was limp against him, blood mixing with the rain as it pooled around them. His young fingers gripped what was left of her dress, his knuckles white.

His body was drenched—rain and blood soaking him to the bone. Tears fell from his eyes without end, merging with the water running down his cheeks.

He sobbed harder, his breath hitching with every cry.

“Why?” he shouted hoarsely into the storm. “Why did you do this?! What did we ever do to you?!”

His words vanished into the thunder and wind.

The man stood before him, unmoving.

His long black coat flared slightly in the wind. The golden glow of his eyes pierced through the downpour like twin blades of light. His face was calm—eerily calm—as he gazed upon the carnage he had just wrought.

Then… a smirk.

A slow, cold twist of his lips that chilled Damian to the very core.

The sight of it was more terrifying than any scream or threat.

Damian’s breath caught. He looked up at the man, shaking violently, his voice breaking apart like splinters in his throat.

“Wh-What are you…?” he stammered, jaw trembling.

The man said nothing.

Damian crawled backward in the mud, dragging his mother’s body with him, his child-sized limbs weak and shaking. Water clung to his skin and clothes, plastering them to his frame. His teeth chattered from cold and horror. His small heart thundered inside his chest like it was trying to break free.

The man tilted his head ever so slightly—studying him, as if watching something bloom.

Then, without another word, he turned.

And walked away.

Vanishing into the rain, into the storm, into the shadows—like a nightmare fading at sunrise.

But Damian knew...

This wasn’t the end.

This was only the beginning.