GRAAAGGH!

  Ybon mimicked the sound of an Eret just beyond the newly reinforced barrier Al had built around his property.

  Al and Ren sat in front of the house, watching the creatures claw at the edge of the barrier as they ate an early dinner. Al stared down at the food in front of him, then back at the twisted, human-like figures outside. Whatever appetite he had was long gone.

  Across from him, Ren was still eating—calmly, unfazed by the monsters scratching and groaning at the edge of the his property.

  Al frowned. He had finally learned the boy’s name, but beyond that, the kid was still a mystery. The strange curse clinging to him shifted like smoke, unpredictable and unstable. But at least Ren wasn’t flickering out of existence anymore. Ybon had made itself at home atop the boy’s head, comfortably acting as his…. stabilizer, for lack of a better word.

  Shameless brat, Al thought, watching Ren shovel food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. The boy was clearly underfed—too pale, too small for his age—but there was something new in him. A stubborn flicker in his gaze. Something alive.

  Two things were clear now.

  First: the monsters were called Eret—humans who died from the sickness and rose again, mindless creatures driven by hunger for heat. Fire, magic, warmth—anything radiant only made them stronger. Using such things was a death sentence.

  Second: Al had been idle for far too long— at least twenty years, maybe more. He hadn’t realized how much the world had changed until it nearly swallowed him whole.

  How had he found out?

  Hahahahaha… Al chuckled dryly to himself. He’d almost died, that’s how.

  He’d left his home to trade—only to walk straight into a ghost town. No bustling square. No merchants. No children. Just silence—and the Eret. They’d turned to him the moment he arrived, twitching toward the heat of his presence like starving dogs.

  He hadn't even noticed the village had fallen.

  Dragging Ren out of that mess had been a chore.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Now, back in the safety of his half-ruined home, Al watched as Eret continued to bash against the barrier, their blank eyes fixed on nothing and everything. Their bodies—thin, broken, still vaguely human—twitched at the edge of heat like moths that couldn’t reach the flame.

  They looked like dead, that don't have clothes. Just… wrong. Their eyes were blank. Skin torn. Wounded, but not bleeding. They had no other senses except feeling—and even that, only in relation to heat.

  As Al leaned back, he found himself thinking of an old text—something he’d read in another lifetime. It had described creatures like these. But the name wasn’t “Eret.” The tone wasn’t fearful. Reverent, almost. Like it had been a blessing once, or a spell—something that had gone horribly wrong.

  He hadn’t kept the text. He’d given it to someone. A close friend. A man who once believed in a brighter future. Al had believed in him, too.

  He had been wrong.

  The betrayal had carved a hole so deep he had never filled it again. He turned away from everything. And the world decayed in his absence.

  “They’re not just Eret anymore,” Ren said between mouthfuls. “Some of them… change. Get weirder. Stronger.”

  Al said nothing as the boy explained. According to Ren, there were three known stages now.

  Eret – The base form. Mindless, heat-hungry corpses. Easy to kill—just strike the nucleus and done. But once overwhelmed or exposed to too much heat, some enter a berserk-like state called Burnmad—where their bodies ignite and go wild. Al had seen it firsthand. Once. Never again.

  Veyrn – The evolved form. Mutated by consuming too much heat, gaining special abilities.

  Variants of Veyrn included:

  1. Shriekers – Emit a piercing wail that disorients prey and summons nearby Eret.

  2. Brutes – Swell with muscle and rage, capable of smashing barriers with sheer force.

  3. Hunters – Faster and smarter. Can track heat like a bloodhound.

  4. Torchers – Burst into flames when enraged, sending heat in wild, chaotic bursts.

  Zhaerin – The third stage. True nightmares. Intelligent. Capable of creating and controlling both Eret and Veyrn like puppets. Instead of infecting with a bite, they infuse others with heat—passing on corrupted energy. Some even nest inside hosts, parasitic and terrifying. Unlike the others, they command. They don’t just walk—they lead.

  “They don’t twitch like the others,” Ren added. “They move like they’ve got somewhere to be. And everyone else just… follows.”

  He hesitated. “Someone called it a King once. Said it looked at them. Really looked. And then… boom. Whole outpost gone.”

  Al said nothing.

  If what Ren said was true—if the Eret had spread this far, if Veyrn and Zhaerin truly existed—then the world was in far worse shape than he’d thought.

  And maybe… just maybe… that old text from his youth hadn’t been a myth after all.