the dark nightmare

**The Dark Knightmare** **Chapter 1: The Black Dawn** The morning sun painted the sky in golden hues as Shawn Carter adjusted his tie in the mirror. Today was supposed to be his first big case as a newly graduated lawyer—a simple contract dispute, but a win would cement his reputation in New York’s cutthroat legal world. His apartment in downtown Manhattan buzzed with the usual sounds of the city: honking cabs, distant chatter, the hum of life. Then, without warning, the light vanished. Shawn frowned, glancing out the window. The sky, clear and blue just seconds ago, had turned an inky black. Not a cloud in sight—just pure, consuming darkness. The city’s lights flickered, then died, plunging everything into an eerie silence. No sirens, no screams. Just… nothing. His phone buzzed violently in his pocket. A single notification flashed: **"They’re coming."** Shawn’s breath hitched. *Who sent this? The screen went black before he could check. Outside, the darkness seemed to pulse, as if alive. Then, a sound—distant at first, then closer—a low, guttural growl, like metal scraping against bone. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move. The air grew thick, suffocating. Shadows slithered along the walls of his apartment, twisting into shapes that shouldn’t —elongated limbs, hollow eyes, grinning mouths with too many teeth. A whisper echoed in his mind: *"You’ve been chosen."* Then, the screaming started. Somewhere below, glass shattered. A car alarm wailed before cutting off abruptly. Shawn finally snapped out of his paralysis and bolted for the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The lock was intact, yet something held it shut—something *stronger*. The growling intensified, now right outside his window. He turned slowly, heart pounding. The glass shattered. A figure loomed in the darkness—tall, clad in jagged armor that seemed to drink in the light. Its helmet was featureless except for two crimson slits where eyes should be. It reached for him with a gauntleted hand, and Shawn stumbled back, tripping over the coffee table. "Shawn Carter," the thing rasped, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. "The scales of justice… are broken." Then, everything went black. **Consciousness Returned in Waves** Shawn gasped awake, his body drenched in cold sweat. He was no longer in his apartment. Instead, he lay on a cracked concrete floor, the air thick with the scent of rust and decay. Dim, flickering lights buzzed overhead, casting long, distorted shadows. *Where the hell am I?* He pushed himself up, his muscles aching as if he’d been unconscious for hours. The room was vast—some kind of abandoned warehouse, its walls lined with strange symbols etched in what looked like dried blood. A distant dripping sound echoed, rhythmic and unnerving. Then, a voice—human this time. "You’re awake." Shawn spun around. A woman stood a few feet away, her dark eyes sharp with urgency. She wore a tattered leather jacket, her fingers wrapped tightly around a rusted iron pipe. "Who are you?" Shawn demanded, his voice hoarse. "What the hell is going on?" "Name’s Lina," she said, stepping closer. "And you, Shawn Carter, just got pulled into a war you didn’t know existed." "A war?" He scoffed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Look, I don’t know what kind of prank this is, but—" "It’s no prank," she interrupted. "That thing that came for you? It’s called a Reaper. And it’s not the only one." Shawn’s stomach twisted. The memory of that armored figure sent a chill down his spine. "What do they want?" Lina’s expression darkened. "They feed on fear. On despair. And right now, they’re turning this city into a hunting ground." A loud *thud* echoed from somewhere deeper in the warehouse. Lina’s grip tightened on the pipe. "We need to move. Now." **The Shadows Were Alive** They moved through the labyrinth of crumbling hallways, the darkness pressing in from all sides. Every so often, Shawn caught glimpses of movement—shadows that slithered just out of sight, whispers that weren’t quite words. "Keep your eyes forward," Lina muttered. "Don’t look at them too long." Shawn swallowed hard. "What happens if I do?" She didn’t answer. A door creaked open ahead, revealing a dimly lit chamber. Inside, a group of survivors huddled together—men and women, their faces gaunt with exhaustion. Some bore fresh wounds, their bandages stained red. One man, older with a grizzled beard, stepped forward. "So, you’re the new one." Shawn blinked. "You were expecting me?" The man smirked, though there was no humor in it. "We’ve all seen you in the visions. The lawyer who doesn’t know he’s the key." *Visions? Key?* Shawn’s head spun. "None of this makes sense." "It will," the man said grimly. "When the Knightmare comes for you again." Lina placed a hand on Shawn’s shoulder. "Rest for now. Tomorrow, we fight." But as Shawn sat among the strangers, one thought consumed him: *What if I’m not the hero they think I am? **The Night Was Only Beginning** Sleep didn’t come. Every time Shawn closed his eyes, he saw *it*—the Reaper, its crimson gaze burning into him. The whispers returned, louder now, murmuring fragments of a language he shouldn’t understand but somehow did. *"The balance must be restored…"* A hand shook him awake. Lina’s face was pale. "They found us." The ground trembled. Somewhere above, the roof groaned under immense weight. Then— *CRASH.* Debris rained down as the Reaper tore through the ceiling, its armor gleaming like polished obsidian. The survivors scattered, screaming. Shawn barely had time to react before the creature lunged—not at him, but at the old man. Its blade flashed, and the man fell, his blood pooling on the concrete. Lina grabbed Shawn’s arm. "RUN!" But the Reaper turned its head, those hellish eyes locking onto Shawn. *"You cannot escape judgment."* And then, the world erupted in chaos. **To be continued…**