Fangs Across Eternity

Ugh… help! I can’t breathe. My chest… It's crushing me. Cold. Why is it so cold? Why can’t I open my eyes?

...

A young man tumbled to the floor of an unfamiliar room, clutching his skull as a migraine tore through his senses. Every pulse of pain felt like his head might split open.

“Where… where am I?” His last memory hit like a blade, the last thing he remembered was his tiny cubicle room, a CGPA of 1.95 staring back at him from his laptop screen. Out of despair he took poison and committed suicide.

He forced his eyes open. Wooden walls surrounded him, rough but orderly. Two beds, two hangers, a small table beside one of the beds, likely for reading. The air smelled faintly of cedar and candle smoke. “Am I… dreaming? Or is this another world?”

A pounding in his head grew unbearable, memories that felt alien and yet familiar, flashed across his mind, laughter that wasn’t his, a room that wasn’t his, a life that didn’t belong to him.

The door creaked. A boy, around sixteen but built like a man, stepped inside with quiet confidence.

“Big bro,” the boy called. “Mum says it’s time for dinner.”

Adrian froze. ‘Big bro?’ His throat went dry. He nodded faintly, unsure if his own voice would betray him.

Fragments of memory flooded him. Five children in the family. He was the eldest. And his name… Adrian. The same as his old self. The irony stung. This body had been primed for him, expelled from a prestigious church school, a mark of shame. Somehow, fate had handed him a second chance.

Failure follows me everywhere… even here. Adrian’s lips pressed into a thin line.

He rose to his feet and walked toward the living room, each step tentative, measured.

The family sat around the table. Father, mother, younger brother, two little sisters. Adrian offered a faint, awkward smile. Strange, yet comforting. They were family… and yet, strangers.

“Greetings, Father. Greetings, Mother,” he murmured in a low voice.

The dinner spread was modest, a bowl of soup, some stodge-like substance, he looked at it strangely for a few seconds before thinking, ‘This is the life now, huh?’. He ate silently, letting the quiet hum of family life settle around him.

Then his father’s voice sliced through the calm. “Have you considered it?”

Adrian froze. 'Consider… what?'

His mother’s glare sharpened at her husband. “At least let him finish his dinner!”

The father’s gaze hardened, turning to Adrian. “Son, academics aren’t your path. Have you thought about the police force? I can pull some strings. You could support the family… you’re a man now.”

Adrian’s chest tightened. 'Ah… that’s what this is'. He forced calm into his voice. “I’ve considered it, Father,” he said, meeting the gaze of this new reality.

“That’s my boy,” the father said, pride softening his stern expression. “I knew I gave birth to no loser.”

Adrian’s soup plate clattered softly as he finished his meal and pushed back his stool. “I’m done,” he whispered, retreating to the shared bedroom with his younger siblings.

Alone, he realized, the room doesn't have any mirrors. He fetched a bowl of water from the bathroom, placing it on the table near the window. He pulled the curtains wide. Light spilled across the room.

And above him, in the dusky sky, hung two moons.

He leaned over the water. Blue eyes stared back. A defined jawline. A tired looking eyes clearly from lack of sleep.

“Not bad,” he muttered, almost with a smile. “At least I look good here.”

Adrian set the bowl of water aside, wondering if this was all his transmigration had to offer. Aside from a second chance at life… nothing?

“I mean, I’m not asking for much,” he muttered, half-laughing. “Just something unique. Something that sets me apart from the norm.”

He shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. I’m not a main character. I don’t need to fight a demon lord, slay monsters, or overthrow corrupt governments. Why waste my life chasing a story that isn’t mine?

A deep sigh escaped him. This isn’t so bad. A strange world, a new life… maybe the police force is my path. Decent income, a quiet home, a decent woman, a decent family… peace. That’s enough.

He began scanning the room, letting his eyes trace every corner, every shelf. Hanging clothes. A lantern. Books piled haphazardly on the table. Nothing remarkable… until a drawer caught his attention.

Inside, five candles, a sachet of salt, and a red, scaly book.

“What the heck is this?” Adrian muttered, heart skipping a beat. Carefully, he lifted the book. Its cover was rough, almost alive under his fingers. 'Was… was the former owner trying to summon an evil god?'

Memories surged. This boy, his former self, had an interest in the mystical and occult. He’d bought the book from a shady seller at the market on a whim, chasing curiosity rather than caution.

Adrian flipped it open. The words were written in his hometown language back on Earth. A coincidence? He wasn’t sure.

He skimmed through the text, the context barely making sense. Yet, a strange pull tugged at him, urging him to perform the ritual.

This could be dangerous… he thought, heart hammering. But I’ve already died once. What’s the worst that could happen?

Determined, he locked the door and closed the window. Following the book’s instructions, he poured salt at the four corners of the room and placed a candle on each. In the center, he drew a large circle, his hands trembling slightly. He stood in the middle, placed the final candle in front of him, and began reading aloud.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then… the room grew unnaturally silent. The air turned icy, prickling his skin. One by one, the candles flickered to life, their flames hovering as if fed by unseen breath.

Adrian’s throat went dry. He hesitated. Should he stop? 'Maybe I shouldn’t continue… ' But the wind swirled violently, threatening to knock the book from his hands. 'If I stop now… something dangerous will happen'.

Clenching his jaw, he closed his eyes and pressed on, reciting the final lines of the ritual. The air seemed to hum, vibrating with a strange energy, and then suddenly everything snapped back to normal.

The candles lay unlit. The wind stilled. The air warmed. Sweat drenched his back, and his chest pounded with adrenaline. For a moment, it all seemed like an illusion… until he glanced around.

The scaly red book was gone.

Adrian swallowed hard, heart hammering. “It’s gone… but… what did I summon?”