Cross and Conflicts

CHAPTER XXXV: Survival of the Fittest

"Pwah!" His head was out of the water. He slowly swam to the river bank and climbed to dry land.

Lying on his back, he coughed as he adjusted his breathing. He stared at the sky and received the mizzle to his face.

It wasn't Aeon's first time in a near death situation, but as far as he can remember, this may have been the first for an elaborate assassination attempt. He could blame himself for being complacent about the matter concerning his safety; he didn't envision that this would happen to him one of these days. Surely, his profession has garnered him enemies and mostly are clandestine. There are a few names that popped in his mind, but he couldn't exactly pinpoint who would want him dead this time.

However, it was vivid that the one who was sent to kill him wasn't just ordinary assassin--no, that wasn't a normal human being. This made him think of the deceased Zard, for he's certain that someone who looked nonhuman was after his life. He wouldn't really consider that a normal human being could carve a sharp forelimb to the hood of his car.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself. He definitely won't be telling his parents about this.

With cautious steps, Aeon rose from the muddy ground and took stock of his surroundings. The rain had now picked up, making it difficult to see clearly. He needed to get home, but the thought of the monstrous creature lurking around made him hyper-vigilant.

He decided to take a detour, avoiding the main road, knowing that whoever—or whatever—had attacked him might still be on the lookout. The trek through the woods was treacherous and slow, but it provided much-needed cover.

Finally reaching the outskirts of the town, Aeon maintained his guard, constantly glancing over his shoulder. The rain had soaked him to the bone, but he pressed on, his resolve firm. As he approached his parents' house, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

The warm light from the windows contrasted sharply with the cold darkness outside. He wiped his shoes on the doormat and knocked on the door, hoping his parents were still awake and waiting for him.

His father, Renerio, opened the door, her face a mix of worry and relief. "Aeon! Thank goodness, you're finally here! But what happened to you? Why are you drenched?" he asked, her voice laced with concern.

He stepped inside, his clothes dripping water onto the floor.

"I had a bit of an accident, Pa," he said, trying to downplay the severity of the situation. "My car... it slid off the road in the rain."

His mother, Susan, appeared from the living room, her brow furrowing as she took in her son's disheveled appearance.

"Aeon, you should be more careful," she admonished gently. "Come, let's get you dried off and into some warm clothes."

Grateful for the warmth of his family, Aeon followed them upstairs, where his mother handed him a towel and a change of clothes. As he dried himself, the events of the night replayed in his mind. The creature that attacked him was unlike anything he had ever encountered, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow connected to the mysterious deaths and disappearances he was investigating.