The air was thick with the stench of blood and the crackling residue of unstable magic. The shaman fell, my blade buried deep in his chest, his grotesque mouth moving to speak in an alien tongue.

  ??? ????

  The words were harsh, guttural, and wrong—like nails dragged over broken glass. I couldn’t understand them, but they resonated deep within my bones, setting my nerves alight with dread.

  “The Fuck you on about… that’s what you deserved after what you did to that cat…” I muttered through gritted teeth, taking a cautious step closer.

  Whatever ritual it had been weaving, whatever nightmare it had called forth, the shaman was done for in a few moments.

  “Huff…” I exhaled sharply, the adrenaline coursing through me making my hands tremble.

  But something caught my eye as I approached. The small cat—the limp creature the shaman had sacrificed— besides it was another who wasn’t dead.

  It had fallen to the ground during the chaos, its tiny body twitching weakly. Its fur was matted with blood—some of it its own, some from the ritual—but it was alive. Barely.

  The cat let out a faint purr, nuzzling against the lifeless body of its companion lying beside it. The sight made something twist inside me, sharp and painful.

  “Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse.

  I knelt beside the cat, ignoring the throbbing pain in my stomach and the blood dripping from my wounds. My hand reached out hesitantly, almost as if it were moving on its own.

  “Hey…” My voice was softer now, almost unrecognizable to my own ears.

  The cat didn’t resist as I scooped it up, its small body trembling in my hands. It was cold to the touch, its breaths shallow and uneven.

  “Aww, Thank heavens nothing happened to you…” I asked quietly, more to myself than the creature.

  The cat let out another faint purr, its tiny head resting against my chest. For reasons I couldn’t explain—reasons I didn’t want to dwell on—I found myself cradling it gently, my fingers brushing over its matted fur in a soothing motion.

  “You’re not dying,” I said firmly, though the tremor in my voice betrayed my resolve.

  The coldness in the cat’s body sent a pang through me, sharper than any wound. My grip tightened just slightly as I shifted the cat, tucking it into my armor. I adjusted it carefully, making sure its tiny head poked out, free to breathe.

  “You’ll be fine, little buddy,” I muttered, swallowing hard.

  My chest felt heavy, a weight I couldn’t shake, but I pushed it aside. There was no time for this—not now.

  Nothing gonna happen…

  I turned my attention back to the shaman.

  The goblin’s cloak had fallen back, revealing its face in full. The sight sent a shiver down my spine. Its skin was burnt and blistered, twisted into something barely resembling flesh. Patches of charred bone jutted through in places, and yet its eyes still glowed faintly, filled with a hateful intensity.

  It was dying—of that, I was certain—but it wasn’t the grotesque visage that chilled me to my core.

  It was the smile.

  The shaman’s lips curled into a wicked, knowing grin, a final act of defiance even as death claimed it.

  “What are you so happy about?” I growled, my voice low.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The goblin didn’t respond. Its eyes fixed on me, unblinking, the smile never faltering.

  “....” I raised my blade, the edge gleaming faintly in the crimson light of the blood-red moon. “ Pray to your Anima gods or whatever you worship for penance”

  With a single, brutal motion, I drove the blade into its head.

  The smile finally faded.

  The goblin’s body twitched once, then went still, its lifeless form collapsing to the ground in a heap. I stood there for a moment, my hand still gripping the hilt of my sword as I tried to steady my breathing.

  “Whatever you were planning, it’s over,” I muttered, yanking the blade free.

  The shaman’s blood dripped from the sword, pooling at my feet. I wiped it clean against the edge of my cloak, my movements mechanical, automatic.

  The cat shifted weakly in my armor, letting out another faint meow.

  I glanced down at it, my brow furrowing.

  “You better not die on me,” I said quietly. “I don’t… I can’t handle that much…”

  The shaman’s lifeless body lay twisted at my feet, its smile etched into my mind like a brand. My breaths came slow and shallow, the air heavy with the acrid stench of blood and death.

  But something wasn’t right. I turned on my heels.

  I followed the shaman’s dead, vacant gaze, my eyes narrowing as I turned toward the center of the ritual circle.

  The ground trembled.

  The remnants of the blood sphere, which I had thought dissipated, began to gather again. The crimson mist swirled, condensing into a dense, pulsating orb. The pressure in the air returned, sharper and more oppressive than before, cutting into my skin like unseen blades.

  “No…” I muttered, taking an involuntary step back. “What the fuck now?”

  The blood orb trembled violently, cracks forming along its surface. With a deafening shatter, it split open, releasing a soundless wave of cold so intense it felt as if the warmth of life itself had been extinguished.

  From within the shattered orb, a dark rift yawned open, like a jagged tear in the very fabric of reality.

  The air around it shifted unnaturally, bending and distorting as if reality itself couldn’t bear to look at what was emerging. The edges of the rift bled a sickly red light, casting long, distorted shadows across the blood-soaked ground.

  Then it came.

  A claw—long, gnarled, and black as midnight—emerged from the rift first. The limb was impossibly large, its surface shimmering with an oily, unnatural sheen. It grasped the edge of the rift like a predator pulling itself out of a dark lair.

  Another claw followed, then a body, dark and amorphous, slithering into the mortal plane with grotesque, unnatural grace.

  And then I saw its eyes.

  Twin orbs of burning crimson, glowing with an intensity that pierced the darkness and rooted me to the spot. The sheer malevolence in its gaze was suffocating, like staring into the very heart of despair.

  “Fuck…” The word slipped from my lips, barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

  The creature’s form was hard to define, as if it shifted and writhed with every passing moment. Its body was made of shadows, tendrils coiling and uncoiling, but its presence was as solid as a mountain pressing down on my chest.

  And then it roared.

  The sound was unlike anything I’d ever heard—a guttural, bone-shaking cacophony that carried with it a presence so overwhelming it felt like the ground itself was trying to crush me.

  “Shit!” I stumbled, the force of the roar nearly driving me to my knees. My hand instinctively went to the cat tucked into my armor, shielding its fragile body from the oppressive energy radiating from the monstrosity.

  The creature’s massive form slithered fully out of the rift, towering over me. Its tendrils lashed out, striking the ground and leaving deep, smoking gouges in the earth.

  My mind raced, my instincts screaming at me to run, but my legs refused to move.

  The cat in my armor let out a faint, trembling meow, its tiny body quivering against me. The sound snapped me out of my paralysis, and I gripped the hilt of my remaining sword tightly.

  “Damn it ” I muttered, my voice shaky but resolute as I retreated back and placed the kitty down, and covered the area with corpses “ There there now nice kitty… It’ll be fine”

  Fuuu…

  Fuck…It’s gonna get ugly Lexi…

  The monstrosity’s eyes narrowed, its gaze locking onto me. The weight of its malice was almost tangible, pressing against my chest like an iron vice.

  I took a step forward, the blade in my hand trembling as I forced myself to meet its gaze.

  FUUU…..

  No need for unnecessary emotions Lexi…either I live or die…fuuu….

  The creature let out another roar, its tendrils rising like serpents poised to strike.

  And then it lunged.

  HOUSE OF END DISCORD

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