Chapter 1
I remember it clearly. Everything started with a lightning bolt tearing across the sky - like it wanted to rip the night open.
In that single, blinding flash, I saw someone kneeling beside a motionless body, doing... something.
Something I didn’t want to believe was real.
I used to think I’d live an ordinary, boring life until the end.
That is, until it turned its face toward me - slowly - and looked at me with eyes that didn’t belong to anything human anymore.
That was when I realized:
That boring life… was the greatest gift I ever had.
If, of course... I survive long enough to keep writing this.
“But this story doesn’t start with me. Not exactly.”
“It started with a man running for his life...”
12:15 AM. Somewhere in the city.
“What the fuck!?”
A man - not me, not yet - ran through the darkness. Past empty homes, deeper into streets darker still. Something chased him, something he couldn’t describe.
His arm was soaked in blood, a gaping wound like a starved animal had taken a bite the size of a fist.
Drugs? A lunatic? Rabies?
Something else?
Didn’t matter.
He could hear the footsteps behind him, too close, too fast , and then slowing down… like it knew it had already won.
He stumbled into a half-constructed house. Up the stairs. Gasping. Bleeding.
Then he froze.
There was already a corpse on the second floor. Around it, four figures crouched - not looting, not crying - but gnawing, tearing into the flesh with their teeth.
One of them turned to look at him. Then another. Then all four.
Behind him, heavy footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs.
No escape.
He didn’t even have time to scream before they were on him, tearing, ripping, devouring.
Flesh. Tendons. Bone.
The night filled with the sound of screams, then sobs, then silence.
Only wet, crunching noises remained. And the sound of bones… being ground to dust.
A half-forgotten coastal city. Crumbling buildings. Salt in the air. Stray dogs barking at shadows.
This is Thinh Nam.
A city by the sea. Quiet. Forgettable. The kind of place people don’t visit, they just pass through.
And somehow, that forgettable silence is the perfect cover for what’s happening here.
I wish I could say I didn’t see what I saw.
But I did.
And now, I think it saw me too.
Chapter 1
There are places where the sunlight stretches far and wide, as if nothing dark has ever happened there. Thinh Nam is one of those cities.
Located on the edge of a southern coastal province, it isn’t big, nor particularly well-known. With a population of just under 300,000, it’s busy enough in the mornings, yet still quiet enough for sunsets to kiss the sea without being blocked by high-rises.
No international airport. No seaport. Not even a proper tourist attraction. People don’t come to Thinh Nam to visit - they stop here on their way somewhere else. A transit town. A layover. Halfway between bustling and forgotten.
From the outskirts, neighborhoods sprout like they’ve been there for decades. Two-story homes, red roofs, rusting gates, and bougainvillea spilling over old fences. Children play soccer in the shade while adults chat under tin awnings. Every afternoon, the loudspeakers echo news and announcements across the sleepy streets. All of it feels... “normal.”
The seafood market near the shore bursts to life at dawn - fish still gasping, crabs snapping, squid squirming, all prepared fresh on the spot. Raw, salty, and shamelessly proud, it’s an unspoken pride of the city.
For the youth, there are rooftop cafés, basement bars, and newly-built shopping malls imitating big-city style. In the day, students and office workers flow like water; by night, young folks ride bicycles along the breakwater. It’s like a small-town movie played on loop - gentle, orderly, familiar.
But then...
Somewhere within the city - in places where light doesn’t reach, where cameras can’t see - something stirs.
In an old warehouse on the edge of the industrial zone, someone is moaning… and someone else vanishes into the night, never to be seen again.
The city breathes on. Steady. “Normal.”
But it is hiding a secret that cannot be spoken aloud.
And no one truly knows - the person they passed at the market, or the one sitting beside them - if they are still... human.
Morning. Somewhere in Thinh Nam.
The morning air carried a light chill, and the wind slipped under Nam’s collar, making him shiver. He hunched into his navy-blue company jacket, the cuffs worn thin, and yawned wide enough to unhinge his jaw as he trudged toward work.
Sitting at the security booth outside a mid-sized real estate company, Nam leaned on his hand and watched scooters and cars trickle through the gate. The sun peeked over distant rooftops, casting a pale glow on the polished metal fence. Another day begins - the same as any other.
He didn’t hate the job, not exactly. As an in-house security guard, the salary was decent. Better than average, even. In this town - where cafés outnumber schools, food stalls pop up on every corner, and nightlife thrives while jobs play hide and seek - stability felt like a godsend. Still, even that couldn’t hide the fact: he was growing bored.
“Would be nice to be Iron Man or Captain America,” he muttered with a grin. “At least then I’d have bad guys to fight. Something exciting.”
He pulled out the handover logbook and skimmed a few dull entries: “Duy’s friend left a package,” “Visitor lost their access card,” and so on. He sighed, closed the book, and glanced at his watch.
7:57 AM.
Just then, the sound of high heels clicked on the sidewalk. Nam looked up and immediately recognized her: Nhung - tight black skirt, crisp white blouse, ponytail swaying, expensive black leather purse bouncing at her hip.
He let out a low whistle and smirked.
“Damn, looking sharp today. Where’s your ride? Walking all the way here? You need a hero to rescue you over lunch?”
Nhung didn’t stop walking. She just rolled her eyes.“Do you always talk crap this early in the morning?”
“Not always. But somehow, seeing you makes me wanna stay busy. Need a hand?”
She chuckled, stepped through the gate, then turned her head slightly and gave a mock-serious nod.
“Thanks. Just keep the gates locked. Wouldn’t want the demon lord catching you slacking off.”
Nam crossed his arms with a grin.
“With an angel like you around, who’s afraid of demons?”
Nhung burst out laughing and playfully punched him on the shoulder.
“Get to work, Romeo. Or I’ll tell the boss you’re slacking.”
He grinned even wider. There was something in the way she said it. Half teasing, half light. That made this dull morning feel a little less grey.
She disappeared into the building, her figure fading into the glass. Nam leaned back on the column, pulled out his phone, and began scrolling through the news. Nothing unusual: celebrity scandals, real estate prices climbing, a mysterious traffic accident.
Then he stopped.
One headline caught his eye.
“Half-Torso Corpse Found - Lower Body Missing, Internal Organs Removed. Investigation Ongoing.”
Nam’s thumb froze on the power button. His mind went back to the night before - a homeless man he’d seen near the park.
“Some weird shit happens at night, man,” the man had said. “Saw some shady bastards doing god knows what. I didn’t look too long. Might’ve been escaped convicts or gang members or worse.”
A chill ran through Nam’s spine. Just a coincidence?
Maybe. But an awfully specific one.
One thing was certain: the air felt colder than usual this morning.
And for some reason, he couldn’t manage a second yawn.
---
Later, at a phone store downtown...
“Where’s Mr. Thang?”
A young salesgirl rushed through the door, clearly late.
“Dunno. Probably got caught up with something,” said a male colleague, sipping his tea.
She sighed in relief, quickly sat down.
“Lucky I was only five minutes late. Otherwise, I’d be getting a full sermon.”
He smirked.
“He’ll see it on the cameras. If he bothers to check.”
“Has he ever checked? Feels like he just catches us in person.”
The guy raised an eyebrow. “Even machines mess up sometimes. Glitches. Humans? Way more unreliable. And Thang - well, I’d rather he was broken than just buggy.”
She giggled.
“Try saying that to his face.”
He just chuckled.
They went on with their prep for the day. Another day, another routine.
But in this city, what’s not routine… was already starting.
