Fangs Across Eternity

I barely touched it

“What was that gaze for?” Adrian muttered. He watched the officers chase someone off and shivered. ‘Soon that could be my life too, running after criminals’. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought.

He hurried onward. After only a few steps, the hum of voices drew him toward the town square. A crowd had gathered. At the center stood a storyteller on a wooden platform, arms spread wide as he commanded the listeners’ attention.

“Listen closely,” the man began, his voice cutting above the murmur. “Long ago, thousands, perhaps billions of years past, there was only the True Creator. From Him came two worlds. One, the Demon World: untamed, violent, filled with monsters and chaos. The other, our world: home to humans, animals, and all living things. These worlds were separate, balanced, and meant to remain so.”

The crowd leaned in. The storyteller’s eyes swept over them, sharp and deliberate.

“But balance is fragile. The Demon World seethed with extremes. Its creatures thrived on madness. One day, while the True Creator slept, the barrier between worlds weakened. A rift tore open. Demons poured into our world, mountains quaked, rivers boiled. The two worlds merged, leaving their scar in the sky: the twin moons you see even now. That was the First Epoch, an age of creation and chaos.”

He lowered his voice, almost forcing his audience closer. “Then came the Second Epoch. When the Creator awoke, He raised divine guardians, the beings we call gods. They guided the faithful, punished the wicked, and restored balance. But not all were loyal. Some gods grew proud. They claimed power greater than the Creator’s. They coveted dominion and drew demons to their side. Some even demanded worship from humans…”

The words hung in the air. But abruptly, the storyteller snapped his book shut.

“That’s all for today. Stay safe, and don’t wander at night.”

A few copper coins clinked as listeners tossed their offerings. The crowd slowly dispersed.

Adrian lingered, thoughtful. 'Demons and gods…? If this world truly holds such beings, what does that mean for me? If even a simple ritual can draw their gaze… I might already be doomed'.

The memory of burning red eyes from his dream jolted through him. He swallowed hard. Policeman or not, if the supernatural gets involved, I’m finished.

Shaking off the unease, he turned for home. Afternoon sun was already tilting westward.

“Adrian, is that you?”

The voice was soft and steady. He turned towards the direction of the call.

Outside a small cookie shop stood an elderly woman, silver hair tied neatly, eyes warm with recognition. He remembered her, married to a local, widowed for decades, yet she had remained in town for over sixty years.

“Greetings, ma’am,” Adrian said with a smile.

“How are you, boy? How’s your studies?”

“Umm… fine,” he replied awkwardly.

“You’ve always been a gentle, clever one.” She disappeared briefly into her shop and returned with a small bundle of biscuits and candies. “Here, take these to your sisters.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Give my regards to your parents,” she added then retreated inside.

Adrian continued home, pocketing the treats. The house was empty, the mother likely at her shop, siblings at school, his younger brother preparing for exams.

He dropped the bundle onto the table and glanced around the modest living room, four chairs, a plain rectangular table.

“I’m starving.” he went straight towards the kitchen to check if any food was left. He didn't even see any left overs, the whole place was clean.

“I guess i have to cook” he opened the cabinet, which yielded little, just rice, spices, onions, some carrots, and eggs, “This should be enough”

He set to work, chopping onions and carrots, stirring them into sizzling oil, then adding blended pepper. The air is filled with spice and smoke. Washing the rice, he poured it into the pot, rinsed the eggs and dropped them into the pot to boil, and added salt and seasoning cubes before covering it all.

Hunger made his head light. He slumped into a chair, stomach grumbling. But then, something felt off.

The air seemed heavier, sharper. His hearing stretched unnaturally far, he could make out conversations on distant streets. When he looked outside, his vision pierced clear across rooftops, even to a tiny bug resting on a leaf far away.

He blinked hard, 'Am I dizzy from hunger?' he questioned himself.

His hand brushed the spoon on the table. It clattered to the ground. He bent to pick it up, fingers brushing the wooden leg of the table…

Crack!

The wood splintered apart. The entire table collapsed, biscuits and candies scattering across the floor.

“What the…?” Adrian froze, staring at his hand in disbelief. 'I barely touched it… how could I break it?'