Another soul had been taken on the streets of Malik's homeland.

Impaled on the ends of two scythes of a grotesque mantis-shaped creature. As absurd as it sounded, that was reality now.

All of it could be seen plainly through his window. And as usual, no one was able to prevent it.

Its head tilted as the three slender eyes that lined the side of its head narrowed on Malik.

Dropping to his knees, he hid beneath the windowsill, holding a hand over his chest to calm his pounding heart.

The distant sounds of rocks cracking—assumingly from the beast's footsteps—broke the silence.

That was his cue. Malik peeked out of the window. He sighed at the lonely sight of the mutilated corpse, abandoned by the rest of the world.

He got up from the floor, pushing himself off the cracked limestone wall. Just sitting down had covered his pants completely in dust.

Brushing off what he could, Malik headed for a tall ladder intentionally positioned in the corner of his bedroom, which led to the roof.

It didn't take long to climb, but the view was never worth it. A heavy, dark fog hung over the city.

He looked out over the neighboring buildings. Winged creatures zipped across the sky. Sometimes hidden by the fog, other times framed by the few stars in the sky that were still visible. Small, red, and what Malik liked to think of as imps. Most ended their flights with a swift crash into the nearest window, settling into the building for the night.

Further away, Malik had to squint his eyes to spot the outline of the largest of them all. A living watchtower. It was mainly formed by Draconic features like its horns. Except there were no wings on its back. It just stood there, surveying every human with white, unblinking eyes. You could always see them through the fog. No pupils. No consciousness.

A long wall built ages ago by the demons snaked across the ground near its claws. When the demons came through the sudden and ever-increasing black fog, so did structures like that.

His grandparents had been trapped on the other side. And it took a while before his family was informed of their deaths years later.

Now, no one was left except for him.

Was he seeing that right? Were some of those shadows headed in his direction?

"Oh no."

Scratching sounds were coming from below.

They were here.

Then, a loud crash. Something had broken on the ground floor.

He'd have to go through them to get out unless it was somehow possible to survive a jump from the roof.

Climbing back down into the bedroom, he scanned the room for where the last of his water was. All was bottled, and only very little remained.

If this was it, he could at least bring some rations with him.

On the small bedroom window, a deep red salamander slithered into view. Looking closer, something wasn't quite right about the animal. Its head split open, dividing into three parts with teeth lining every rim.

There was no time to stall.

Watching a black ooze dribble out of it, Malik huffed and got to packing. He rushed around the room, throwing every edible item he could find into the backpack on his bed.

A quick glance at the window told him exactly what he needed to do next. Get out. The glass was melting from the acidic liquid the demonic animal was producing.

The rummaging below him was also getting louder, and as he threw the backpack over his shoulders and ran downstairs, his suspicions were confirmed.

The living room was completely overrun by more of those salamander things and the imps he had been observing on the roof.

But worst of all, the gleam of two metallic scythes flashed in the dark.

Luckily, it was a straight shot to the exit, but that thing was fast. And …

When all its six eyes locked on Malik, its mouth gaped open. If his heart wasn't already heaving for its life, that sight made it practically erupt.

He thrust his body forward as the demon's tongue shot out at lightning speed, leaving a crack in the wall directly next to Malik's head.

He took in a shaky breath, recognizing what would have happened had he not moved.

Hurrying to the broken-down front door, he leaped through the opening and finally made it outside.

A hissed-out exclamation came from the living room; the last thing he heard before the building was completely out of sight.

"Heh, nice place. We'll have it all before the week is over."

They weren't pursuing him.

Hundreds of narrow streets and alleyways. Hours of directionless wandering through the labyrinth that was his city.

There were larger, more open roads. But he already felt watched in even the most dark and shady sections, so he had no intention of getting in the line of sight of the demons marching around out there. He shuddered at the thought of the more humanoid ones acting like they were soldiers marching the streets.

He'd see the occasional imp flying across the sky, but they were too busy searching for new homes to trash and claim.

There was also a lot more writing and graffiti on the walls than ever before. What people were trying to communicate through their spray-painted cries had morphed since the demons arrived and never stopped increasing in quantity.

It only took a day or two—usually less—for the perpetrators to be found. And punished.

Disgusting crunching sounds. As he slipped around the nearest corner, all Malik could imagine was flesh being ripped apart.

What he encountered was even more repulsive than the image he had in mind. Under a flickering street lantern, one of the imp demons was crouched down over a corpse, tearing into it with both claws and sharpened teeth. It was... eating. Or rather, devouring.

Its eyes locked on him. But it didn't move. It just stared back as they assessed each other.

Without a word, it dug through the corpse's skull, making Malik flinch. The demon pulled something small and spherical out, throwing it after him. He instinctively reached out to catch it.

An eye.

Realizing that, he dropped the squishy lump of flesh in an instant. The creature flashed him a wide, stretched smile before scurrying away into the dark.

Sadistic freaks.

"It came from over there."

When Malik caught a glimpse of a figure much taller than any human approaching from the direction the imp had gone, he realized he couldn't stall any longer.

He slipped out of sight of the street, hiding behind the nearest corner. With a hand over his mouth, he peeked back out, only to spot the demon considered far above the others when it came to awareness and knowledge.

Though red and mostly naked—except for a loincloth—like the imps, these were as tall as the mantis ones and carried a thin, lengthy sword. He'd rather not be reminded of the number of heads harvested by that thing. And the blank stares.

"Just another useless body. Leave it."

Another one stepped under the soft glow of the hanging lanterns. There was a strong urge in Malik to charge into the street and face those things head-on. However, he knew where that would lead.

A light flickered on over one of the doors framing the street he was hiding in. He kept his gaze on the entrance until it opened.

The orange tones coming from inside illuminated the silhouette of an older woman. She beckoned him over with her hand.

Anything was better than standing out here, so he hurried over and was promptly let inside. She yanked the door shut behind him.