Blood Doom Rising

Chapter 1: The Things in the Forest

   Once a cloak of ink, the sky now dons a magnificent sapphire veil, like an unending tapestry devoid of any shimmer. The break of dawn creeps upon us, and with it, a gentle, scarcely perceptible blush of orange spreads from the eastern horizon, announcing the imminent rise of the sun.

   From their hiding places, the creatures stir, one by one, as the storm withdraws into the night. The birds sing sweetly, the frogs croak, the crickets chirp, while the snails and slugs slink across the damp earth, all journeying under the pallid beams of the moon. For after the storm, the world is renewed, and the creatures sense it keenly.

   Amidst the misty forest, the bushes rustle and wishper, as two silhouettes endeavor to find their path through the dampened woodland. Their steps falter, and they shudder with the chill of the morning, yet they press on through the clutches of the tangled wilderness.

     "Where in the hell are we even going?" Nora demanded, her wet hair clinging to her face, the tangle only broken by her attempts to reveal her profound, abyssal eyes - an otherworldly beauty that could easily become a thing of dread.

     "We just need to get out of here before the sun goes down." Hiro responded with steadfastness, repeating the same reply he'd given her upon the first, second and third time she asked him.

   They had been wandering for hours, their feet stumbling over the uneven ground, with no sign of a path in sight. Hunger and thirst gnawed at them, but the meager supplies Hiro carried with him forced them to conserve every drop of water and morsel of food unless it was a matter of life and death.

     "Looks like I'm going to have to resort to cannibalism sooner than I thought." Nora quipped, her head tilting forward and to the side, causing her deep, piercing eyes to become even more prominent, a glint of morbid humor dancing within them, though her countenance remained stoic and unmoving.

   Hiro never cared much for his friend's twisted sense of humour, in truth, he's always been wary of her tendency towards levity in the face of danger. He placed a firm hand upon her shoulder and urged her forward, his eyes scanning the murky woods around them for any signs of salvation. There was no time for jokes or jests - their situation was dire, and they had to make their escape before the darkness overtook them completely.

   They knew the Umbrals' habits well - creatures of darkness, bred to lurk in the shadows and emerge only under the veil of night. The scant information they possessed about these elusive monsters had been passed down through generations, shrouded in secrecy and silence. Even as children, they had an unspoken understanding that the fear of these creatures was their inheritance.

   Everyone knew that when someone went missing, it was likely the work of an Umbral. The bodies of the victims, if found, were always in the most macabre, public places, as if to taunt the living. But if the remains were not found, it was likely that the unfortunate soul had already begun to metamorphose into an Umbral. Nora's sister had fallen victim to this fate. Once the transformation started, there was no cure, no escape from the unrelenting hunger and misery that came with it, only a life of insatiable hunger and suffering.

   The search for such a cure led Hiro and Nora to the edge of the forest, where rumors persisted of those who held the means to save her sister, but their search had been in vain, and they were left with the knowledge that returning home would be a worse fate than the unknown.  Perhaps they knew the stories of a cure were nothing more than fairy tales, but perhaps they were tired of living in fear.

   The forest was dense and overbearing, its foliage hanging heavily, as if reluctant to let the travelers pass. The air was damp and oppressive, clinging to their clothes and skin. The sun beat down upon them, casting long, eerie shadows across the forest floor, obscuring their path and stretching out like an unwelcoming hand.

   With each passing moment, their journey grew increasingly arduous, their strength waning as they trudged forward. Every step was a Herculean feat, their energy drained with each labored breath. The very air seemed to sap their strength, making each movement a trial, and their eyes grew heavy and unfocused, making it hard to see the way ahead.

     Nora's knees buckled beneath her, and she fell to the ground with a gasp. "I can't do this, Hiro," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling of the leaves. "I'm too tired. We'll never make it out of here."

     Hiro knelt beside her, his eyes burning with determination. "We can't give up now," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We're so close. We can't let the forest beat us."

     Nora looked up at him, her eyes dull and lifeless. "Close to what, Hiro?" she asked. "What are we even looking for?"

     Hiro's face twisted with anger and frustration. "We're looking for a way out, Nora," he spat. "A way to escape this godforsaken place. And we're not going to find it by lying down and giving up."

   With a deep breath, Hiro steadied Nora as she rose, her hand grasping at his sleeve for support, and they resumed their journey. But the oppressive air and the menacing shadows made their progress slow and tedious, and every rustling leaf or snapping twig made them startle and jump.

   As they proceeded forward, they were both frightened by the gentle rustling of the bushes. They froze, their hearts pounding, ready to face whatever was coming their way. The rustling grew louder, and from the bushes emerged a small, pale figure. It was a child, no more than eight years old, with large, curious eyes and a mop of golden hair that fell over her face.

     Hiro approached cautiously, his hand outstretched. "Who are you?" he asked.

   The child did not speak but instead took a step back, her eyes nervously darting around the forest.

      "We don't mean you any harm," Nora said amicably, trying to put the child at ease. "We're just lost, and we're looking for a way out of here."

   The child studied them for a moment, her eyes piercing and full of a strange wisdom that seemed beyond her years. And then, without warning, she turned and fled deeper into the woods.

     "We should follow her," Nora said, her voice filled with urgency as she moved in the direction the child had gone.

   Hiro hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded in agreement and followed Nora. They walked swiftly, their footsteps light as they traced the child's path. After a few minutes, they saw the child once again, standing at the edge of a clearing.

   As they neared, they saw that the clearing was filled with odd, ramshackle structures and thatched huts. Dozens of people, all clothed in tattered garments, milled about, going about their business. They gazed up as Hiro and Nora entered the clearing, their faces curious but not hostile.

   As they approached the settlement, an older man emerged from the crowd, whose hand beckoned them closer with a gentle gesture. His skin was a sickly sight to behold, marred with bruises and strange discolorations. But as they drew nearer, something about it struck them as deeply unnatural, his skin seemed eerily perfect, like it was made out of polished porcelain instead of human flesh.

   The forest exhaled a final breath of sound, and then fell into a deep, unnerving stillness that seemed to seep through every tree and every blade of grass.