The Pulse Before The Storm
1131 Words
Resort – The Room After the Awakening
The bond sealed.
The world stilled.
And for a moment—just a moment—it was only the two of them.
Dylan still hovered over her, eyes burning crimson and gold, his breath ragged.
Aya’s skin glowed softly, the mark on her neck throbbing with light that echoed through Dylan’s own chest.
Their fingers trembled as they touched.
“Are you real?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Dylan answered, voice raw. “But if I’m dreaming… I don’t want to wake up.”
He brushed a thumb along her cheek.
Aya leaned into the touch, her lashes fluttering shut, her chest rising and falling as though waking from a lifetime of silence.
Then she kissed him.
Not a memory. Not a dream.
This was real.
Dylan froze—but only for a heartbeat.
Then he kissed her back, deeper, hands cradling her face like she’d break if he let go.
Their bond pulsed between them—heat, light, history.
His lips trailed down her jaw, to her neck—hovering just above the place where the mark burned bright.
“I almost lost you,” he breathed against her skin.
Aya wrapped her arms around his shoulders, eyes wide and vulnerable.
“But you didn’t.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “You saved yourself.”
“No,” she said softly. “We saved each other.”
His mouth found hers again, slower this time, deliberate. His coat slid from his shoulders. Her fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer.
Her pulse echoed in his head. His hunger surged—not just the thirst, but the craving for her. All of her. The pull of the bond was magnetic, ancient, undeniable.
But just as his lips grazed her collarbone—
The walls trembled.
And the screaming began.
---
Outside – The Garden’s Wrath
Mang Ramon, Mika, and Lance ran.
The roots chased them, tearing through soil and stone, silver and black tendrils stretching like arms. One wrapped around Mang Ramon’s leg, yanking him back.
He turned, sliced it with his machete—it howled, spraying black blood.
“Inside!” Mika shouted, wrenching the rusted door open.
They dove through the threshold just as the roots slammed into the doorframe.
Lance shoved the door shut. Mika twisted the deadbolt. The wood splintered—but held.
“For now,” Mang Ramon panted, wiping blood from his blade. “That thing isn’t done.”
They sprinted down the hall, making for the east wing.
Behind them, the roots began tearing into the resort’s foundations.
---
Third Floor – Weapon Search Gone Wrong
Max, Lauren, and Tiana had found the armory.
Kind of.
It looked like a staff storage room—until Max pried open a false panel in the wall and found ancient blades, wooden stakes, silver-tipped arrows, and something that looked like a crossbow forged from bone.
But just as Lauren touched a dagger—
The ceiling above them groaned.
Dust rained down.
Tiana turned toward the back of the room.
And screamed.
They hadn’t noticed the corridor beyond the supply room.
A narrow hall leading to a third-floor storage chamber—lined with upside-down coffins.
Not decorative ones.
Real. Sealed. Ancient.
And now…
They were opening.
Long, clawed fingers reached out from the cracks. Pale limbs stretched.
Eyes blinked open—sunken, monstrous, not human.
The creatures inside twisted unnaturally, their bodies made of bone and shadows, hissing through sharp, inhuman teeth.
“Run!” Max shouted.
They grabbed what weapons they could and bolted.
The first creature dropped from its coffin—crawling upside down along the ceiling, hissing as its long neck twisted toward them.
Tiana screamed again.
Lauren swung the bone-crossbow blindly.
They made it to the hallway—just as three more creatures dropped behind them.
Max kicked open a guest room door.
“In!”
They dove inside, slamming the door shut just as a clawed hand scraped across the frame.
Silence.
Then—
Scritch... scritch...
The creatures were crawling along the ceiling above them, listening.
---
Back With Dylan & Aya – Interrupted
The lights flickered in their room.
Dylan froze, his body going tense.
Aya sat up, breath still uneven. “What was that?”
“Something’s moving,” Dylan whispered, standing quickly and grabbing his coat. His eyes were still glowing faintly, the bond humming in his blood.
Aya stood, barefoot, still glowing like fire under her skin. “The roots?”
The lights flickered in their room.
Dylan froze, body going tense, nostrils flaring.
Aya sat up, breath still uneven. “What was that?”
“Something’s moving,” Dylan whispered, grabbing his coat. His eyes still glowed faintly—crimson pulsing at the edges, the bond humming in his blood.
Aya stood beside him, barefoot, skin gleaming like embers under her thin dress. “The roots?”
He shook his head.
“Worse.”
A low growl rolled through the walls. Then a thud. Another.
The floor trembled.
Suddenly—the door burst open.
But no one stood there.
Only air.
Then—shadows spilled in, twisting like smoke, crawling along the floor like liquid nightmare.
Aya stepped back, her mark blazing.
“They found us,” she whispered.
---
Second Floor – The Fight Begins
The hallway beyond had changed.
The walls pulsed like flesh. Veins of black mold crept across the wallpaper. Silver vines slithered like serpents. The resort was alive. And it was hunting.
Dylan stepped in front of Aya, coat billowing as he summoned power from the mark across his chest. His hands lit with pale fire—the energy of the bond, awakened fully now.
From the dark, something leapt.
A creature—its limbs bent the wrong way, eyes hollow, fangs gleaming. Not bone. Not shadow.
Both.
Dylan moved like a storm. His fist collided with the creature mid-air, sending it smashing into the wall. It shrieked as fire licked through its skin.
“Behind you!” Aya shouted.
Another lunged.
Dylan turned, but not fast enough.
Aya raised her hand—and the creature froze midair.
Held.
Suspended.
Aya’s eyes were glowing, her expression calm—but strained. The creature screeched as it was yanked back with invisible force and slammed into the ceiling. Then the floor. Then the wall.
Over. And over.
Until it shattered into dust.
Dylan blinked. “That wasn’t your locket…”
“No,” Aya whispered, panting. “It’s me.”
A faint pulse came from her chest.
Her locket gleamed—dull red now.
Feeding.
Dylan moved to her side. “Aya, your energy—”
“I’m fine.” Her voice shook. “Just... help me finish this.”
- Writer
