Darkness inside you 18+

Classes. Parties. Sleepless nights spent in endless conversations about nothing. Homework that felt like a mountain, growing taller every time he looked at it. Then there was the apathy—that heavy, hollow exhaustion born from the daily grind and a permanent state of sleep deprivation. Dark circles under the eyes, the bitter dregs of cold coffee in a favorite mug, and a desk buried under a mess people naively liked to call “creative chaos.”

For most students, that was the whole story.

It was Kyle’s story, too. His life felt long, tedious, and painfully drawn out, like a low-budget drama built entirely on tired clichés. And as tradition dictates in those stories, something is eventually supposed to happen to the main character—something that inevitably turns their world upside down.

One could only wonder what that “something” would be.

His name was Kyle. This is the story of how the familiar world of an ordinary, unremarkable student collapsed—suddenly, without warning, leaving behind nothing but fear, blood, and questions. The kind of questions you couldn’t even ask aloud without being called a madman.

Leila Abrams wasn’t the woman she used to be. The spark she once carried had long since vanished, leaving only smoldering embers. Shadows had settled permanently under her eyes, and her movements had become sharp, tired, and mechanical. Sometimes Kyle felt like she was moving on pure stubbornness—not really living, just refusing to stop. Too often, he caught himself doing the same.

With practiced, robotic motions, he’d get out of bed, make it, and stir a cup of coffee with a lazy, sleepy hand before trudging to class. His mother’s mornings followed the exact same script—only she headed for work instead of a lecture hall.

She supported the family entirely on her own. She was the only thing keeping them from total freefall, giving every ounce of her strength to bring in enough money to survive and give her son a shot at a future.

Kyle understood that. He understood it all too well, and he had for a long time. Ever since he was a kid, he’d dreamed of the day he’d make it big—the day he’d hand his mother the keys to a mansion and a new car, walk in with a massive bouquet of flowers, and give her everything she’d ever wanted.

But life has a way of being cruel.

Instead of a mansion and a car, he currently handed over almost his entire scholarship check just to keep things afloat—a scholarship he had to kill himself to maintain. He wasn’t the natural straight-A student you read about in novels; he didn’t memorize facts on the fly or ace tests without trying. He wasn’t the guy in the front row with glasses, hunched over a textbook, absorbing every line of fine print.

Studying didn’t come easy to him. But sometimes, you have to crawl out of your own skin and push yourself to the breaking point just to hold onto the things you can’t afford to lose. Kyle knew that better than anyone. He demanded a lot from himself—sometimes too much—but it bore fruit. For instance, his obsession with looking put-together meant he often caught the fleeting glances of local girls on campus.

It wasn’t hard to see why. Kyle had messy, curly brown hair that was a constant struggle to manage, a lean, toned build from hours of training, and eyes that, while tired, held a captivating, soulful depth. He walked with a calculated confidence, a firmness he’d spent years perfecting.

Sometimes, his own reflection triggered dim fragments of childhood memories—back when he could walk through hallways without hesitation, shielded by the status his parents had built for themselves.

He hardly remembered his father. The man’s face was a fading photograph in his mind. He remembered a tall silhouette leaning over a book, the scent of expensive cologne on a heavy coat, the sight of him holding his mother… he remembered the outline, but the details were gone. What did his voice sound like? What did his smile look like?

And what had actually happened? What was the thing that ruined them?

His mother never talked about the details. One day, the life they knew just ended. Men in dark suits had shown up demanding money, and a new life began—one in a cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city.

The alarm clock shattered the morning silence.

Kyle pried his eyes open, glanced at his old watch through a fog of sleep, and winced. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to find the will to move.

“Great. Another day.”

Rubbing the grit from his eyes, he stumbled into the bathroom. He stripped off his wrinkled pajamas, turned the shower to a scalding temperature, and stood under the spray. The water drummed against his skin, gradually dragging his senses back to reality. He dried off quickly, threw on his clothes, and grabbed the breakfast Leila had left out for him.

“Thanks, Mom!” he called, shoving his arms into his jacket.

“Don’t be late,” she replied, her voice thick with exhaustion. She didn’t even turn around.

Outside, it was pouring. The weather perfectly matched his mood. A biting wind sent shivers racing across his skin, forcing him to huddle into his collar. Miserable as it was, as the saying goes, there’s no such thing as bad weather—only bad clothes.

Naturally, the bus was late.

“To hell with this.”

Kyle took off on foot, leaping over puddles and patches of mud. It didn’t help much; dark wet spots soon splattered his jeans, and his sneakers were soaked through, squelching with every step. He looked down and let out an irritated sigh.

“Well, at least I’m not late,” he thought bitterly, pulling open the heavy doors of the university.

The campus always felt like a different dimension. Inside, it was warm and bright. The grand ceilings and towering walls seemed to loom over him, mocking his small, damp frame. Columns and windows were covered in intricate patterns, the kind of architectural flourishes designed to make people feel something. To some, it felt welcoming and prestigious; to others, it felt lonely and fake, like a grand mask for a hollow institution.

Kyle slipped into the lecture hall and slumped into the seat next to his friend, Robin.

“Hey, Kyle,” Robin said, grinning without looking up from his phone.

“Hey,” Kyle replied distractedly. “You ready for the seminar?”

Robin snorted. The answer was a foregone conclusion.

“Not even a little bit. I was up all night gaming. Philosophy is just gonna have to study itself today.” He gave a lighthearted sigh and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. Then, remembering something, he brightened and leaned in. “But I’ve got something better. Party at Jess’s tonight. Alcohol, a lot of girls... You in?”

Kyle froze for a split second. He forced a smile and gave a stiff nod.

“Yeah… sounds fun.”

The lie felt practiced. He was getting good at it. He’d wanted to tell Robin for a long time—to just close his eyes, take a breath, and tell the truth to the one person he actually trusted.

He didn’t like girls.

But how do you explain that you don’t care about the jokes, or the endless discussions about their beautiful bodies, spoken with those filthy thoughts behind them? All of it left him feeling irritated and profoundly out of place.

But what was the point? It was easier to play along than to risk losing his only friend. He stayed silent.

“Nine o’clock, then,” Robin said, turning back to his screen.

The apartment was silent when Kyle got home. His mother was gone, swallowed whole by her shift. The clock showed that awkward time—too early for the night to start, but too late to be productive.

He opened his closet and started sorting through his clothes. His phone buzzed. Robin.

Don’t forget your swim trunks.

Kyle tensed. He typed back: Why?

The reply was instant: Pool party. Followed by a cheesy kissing emoji.

“Son of a bitch,” Kyle hissed.

Robin knew. He knew how much Kyle hated the feeling of being watched, the judgment, the vulnerability of exposure. It made him feel like he was in danger, unable to relax for even a second.

But there was no way out. He’d already agreed. He could fake a headache, sure, but he hated breaking his word, and Robin didn’t take well to flakes. Besides, Kyle was desperate for any escape from his suffocating routine.

He sighed and looked out the window. The rain was still coming down.

“I hope it stops by tonight.”

Robin showed up exactly on time. He’d clearly put in more effort than usual—his hair neat, and he looked uncharacteristically polished.

Kyle chuckled as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Wow. Did you finally make peace with your comb?”

“Go to hell,” Robin snorted. “Today’s a big day. I even used deodorant.”

“Ah, so that’s what that smell is. I was worried you’d been replaced by a clone.”

They laughed, and for a few minutes, the tension in Kyle’s chest eased. But then the car pulled up to Jess’s mansion.

The music was a physical force, thumping so loud he could feel the pulse in his own ribs. String lights stung his eyes, making him squint against the glare. The place was a sea of people, laughter, shouting, and clinking glasses. The party was already in full swing.

Kyle hadn’t been inside for two minutes before he lost Robin to the crowd. His friend had likely spotted a pretty girl and vanished into the fray.

“Great,” Kyle muttered, pushing through the crush of sweating bodies and tipsy classmates.

He slipped out onto the balcony for a breath of air and immediately spotted Robin. He was already in his trunks, lounging on a chair and shamelessly flirting with a girl.

“That was fast,” Kyle sighed, rolling his eyes.

He turned back inside toward the drinks. He needed something—anything—to help him relax. But as he moved through the room, Jess stepped into his path. She was impossible to miss in a bright red dress that matched her fiery hair. She was the life of the party, the undisputed queen of the night.

Standing right next to her was Tony, her twin brother.

They were dressed in the same style, radiating the same carefree, flighty energy. But Tony’s gaze was different. Heavy. Deliberate. And right now, it was fixed directly on Kyle. When their eyes met, Tony’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk.

Kyle frowned and looked away. Was it just his imagination?

He headed for the second floor. The urge to find something strong to drink and a quiet place to breathe was becoming overwhelming. He needed to get away from the noise for just five minutes.

The silence upstairs was heavy. The muffled thumping of the party felt miles away, and the air seemed to thicken around him, making every movement feel sluggish. His footsteps echoed in the long hallway.

“Are you even eighteen yet?” a mocking, cold voice asked.

Kyle froze. His heart hammered against his throat. Footsteps behind him drew closer.

“Are you actually scared?” the voice added, softer this time.

Kyle turned around, ready to apologize and leave. He didn’t want a confrontation. But when he saw Tony standing there, his words died in his throat. He took a step back, his hands balling into fists.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” Kyle asked, though his voice betrayed him with a slight tremor.

Tony stepped forward, effectively blocking the hallway and cutting off any escape.

“Because you shouldn’t be up here,” Tony said, nodding toward the door behind Kyle. “The booze is downstairs. This is my father’s private collection.”

Kyle closed his eyes and counted to three. “Fine. I’m leaving.”

He tried to brush past, but Tony’s hand slammed against the wall next to Kyle’s head, pinning him in place. Tony leaned in, his face inches away, his hot breath ghosting over Kyle’s cheek.

“What’s the rush?” he purred. “I saw the way you were looking at me downstairs.”

Kyle’s heart thudded painfully. “You’re wrong,” he whispered.

Tony tilted his head, his sharp eyes searching Kyle’s face as if peeling back layers, looking for the secrets Kyle had spent years hiding.

“Then why aren’t you leaving?”

…

“Son of a bitch.”

Kyle tried to move, to force his legs to carry him away from this house and this night, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t just that Tony was blocking him. Deep down, he didn’t want to go.

The realization made him angry. It terrified him. It exposed everything.

“Because you’re in my way,” he breathed, clenching his jaw.

Tony’s smirk widened. “Seriously?”

He took another step. Kyle backed up until his shoulders hit the wall. The trapped sensation triggered a rush of adrenaline and fear. He felt a magnetic pull toward Tony, a desire so intense it made him want to run until his lungs burned.

But there was nowhere to go.

The distance between them vanished. If Kyle didn’t push him away now, he never would. But his hands stayed at his sides.

“I can smell the lie on your breath,” Tony whispered into his ear. In the dim light, he couldn’t see how red Kyle’s face had turned, but he could feel the trembling running through him.

Tony knew exactly what he was doing. And he wasn’t going to stop. Not now.

He leaned in, his rough fingers catching Kyle’s chin and tilting it upward. His touch was surprisingly gentle. Kyle wanted to ask what he was doing, but the question was silenced as Tony’s lips met his.

Kyle’s world narrowed. He reached out, his hands trembling as he gripped Tony’s shirt. He’d meant to push him away, but his body wouldn’t obey. Tony caught Kyle’s hand and pressed it firmly against his own chest. Underneath the fabric, Tony’s heart was racing just as fast as his own.

Was this real? Or some cruel game?

For a second, Kyle froze. His thoughts were a frantic mess. Should I stop this? What if he’s lying? What if this ruins me? Then he thought: To hell with it. He kissed back.

It was hesitant at first, clumsy and fueled by nerves, but with every second, he grew bolder. He let the fear and trembling go, surrendering to the heat of the moment. He stopped thinking. He just felt. He wanted this—he wanted the way Tony held him, the way those sharp eyes looked at him, even if it was a trap. Even if Tony had somehow made him see beauty where there was only danger.

It didn’t matter. Not then.

But the warmth suddenly evaporated. A chill swept through the hallway, and Kyle’s eyes snapped open. He felt it before he heard it.

Danger. The air grew heavy, charged with the static tension that precedes a massive storm. A deafening chime rang out—sharp and violent. The entire mansion shook under the force of a massive blow. Glass shattered, and the shutters creaked like they were screaming.

For one heartbeat, there was total silence. It felt like the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist.

Then, the screaming started.

Panic is transformative. It strips away humanity. A panicked crowd isn’t made of people; it’s a herd, a desperate mass of bodies willing to trample anything to survive.

Kyle rushed to the window, staring down at the chaos in the yard. He turned to Tony, teeth gritted. “What was that?”

Tony didn’t answer with words. His body was coiled with tension, his brow furrowed in dark, knowing irritation. He knew exactly what was happening.

“The Dark Knight,” he muttered. “He found us faster than I expected.”

Kyle stared at him, bewildered. Tony didn’t explain. He grabbed Kyle, pulling him tight against his chest with one arm while extending his other hand toward the hallway.

Black shadows began crawling across the walls, dancing in the dim light, alive and hungry. As they lunged, Tony threw up a hand, and a concussive force slammed them back against the wall.

“You have to run,” Tony said, low and urgent. Before Kyle could argue, Tony leaned down and kissed him again—just a fraction of a second, a desperate reassurance. Then he shoved Kyle toward the stairs.

“Run, damn it, Kyle!”

The voice that had purred in his ear moments ago now cut like a blade. Kyle knew he couldn’t help. All he could do was run.

Downstairs was a nightmare. People collided and fell, their screams filling the air. Blood slicked the floor, mixing with spilled pool water to turn the tiles into a deathtrap. Shadows wrapped around people like vipers, squeezing the life out of them, tearing them apart from the inside.

“Good God…” Kyle whispered, unable to look away from the horror unfolding before him.

He was nearly at the exit when he slammed into something. Or someone. He looked up, and a creature stood before him. Its body was… wrong. It looked like a dead knight forged from dark, twisted metal. Cracks and fissures ran across its form, oozing thick, black liquid. Even through the metal of its helmet, its eyes seemed to pierce straight through him, as if searching his very soul. Its hand shot forward, seizing Kyle by the throat and slamming him against the wall. He began to wheeze, clawing at the grip, feeling the air vanish. But it was no use; the hold was too strong… too painful.

Had Tony really risked everything to protect him, only for Kyle to die like this?

"Kyle!" a worried voice cried out.

There was a sudden clang of metal. The knight’s body began to smoke, turning fluid and soft. Another blow followed, and the grip on his neck loosened, leaving behind nothing but a dark collar of bruises and grime. Kyle collapsed to his knees, gasping and trying to catch his breath. He touched his throat, feeling the soreness, then raised his head to see his savior. It was Robin. But something about him had changed… instead of a hand, there was a curved blade, now coated in the knight's "blood." Kyle’s gaze couldn't express anything but exhaustion. He wasn't even surprised anymore. He only felt himself dimming with each new discovery.

Too much had happened in a single hour.

Robin knelt in front of Kyle, steadying him by the shoulders. By the time he touched him, the boy’s hand had returned… normal. Human.

"What…" Kyle started to ask, but then realized there was no point. Their world had changed, and there was no going back. They had to play by the rules now, and the most important one was simple: survive. Get out.

Kyle’s head was pounding. Drops of sweat mingled with the blood on his skin, and his eyes, caught in the chaos, saw only blurry shapes—puddles of crimson fluid and the bodies of people he once knew, frozen in senseless death. His ears rang as if the darkness itself were whispering into his temples.

Every step felt like a feat of strength, every breath a struggle for life. Robin hacked a path toward the exit, his hand—once again a blade—flashing with reflected light. Kyle could barely react when a sudden burst of sparks hit his eyes. In an instant, he felt someone push him forward, gently but firmly.

"Jess, get him out of here! I’ll hold them off!" Robin shouted, his voice barely cutting through the chaos and screams of the crowd.

A shadow of irritation crossed the girl’s face, and Kyle caught it. He remembered how, in class, she used to mock him, always looking for a way to sting him with her words. But right now… she wasn't mocking him. She didn’t throw a single jab. In her eyes, there was only cold concentration and a hint of weariness as her hands fired bright beams of light, burning through the creatures and forcing them back.

Kyle tried to keep track of what was happening, but the world was spinning: corpses, battles, screams, and flashes of magic blended into a whirlpool of chaos. His head swirled, but there was no time to rest. Jess created blinding lines of light that burned the monsters to ashes, while Robin, with his makeshift blade, almost seemed to enjoy every clash with the enemy. Kyle felt a twinge of involuntary envy; he felt like a defenseless puppy that his friends were forced to babysit.

When they finally made it past the threshold of the mansion, Kyle exhaled, allowing himself a moment to breathe. Jess stood beside him, leaning over slightly, the energy of her power still pulsing in the air with the smell of scorched metal.

"Those sons of bitches," she muttered, her voice thick with anger and annoyance. "I broke a nail because of them. Those things are going to pay for this."

Kyle could barely suppress a smile. Finally, the "good old" Jess was back.

"Thank you…" he sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his fists.

"Did I have a choice?" her voice was soft and tired, but with a sharp edge of sarcasm. "Why did they have to show up now of all times?"

The street before them was dark, illuminated only by the occasional flash of Jess’s magic as she held back the onslaught. Kyle couldn't answer her, so he stayed silent. All that mattered was staying alive… and finding Tony.

After piercing the last creature with a laser of her power, the girl collapsed onto the grass, breathing heavily. Kyle watched her, then looked at Robin, who had caught up with them by then, his breathing leveling out. He looked just as exhausted, but Tony, appearing behind him, seemed perfectly smug and confident, as if he weren't tired at all.

"Well, that was fun," he said with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I almost kicked the bucket," Robin growled, trying to catch his breath and coughing.

Jess remained silent, but her gaze said more than words ever could. Her eyes reflected her opinion of everyone present, and it wasn’t particularly glowing. She covered her eyes with her hand, ran her palm through her hair, and turned away.

"So… are you witches? Demons? …Fairies?" Kyle finally blurted out, breaking the silence, desperate for any kind of answer.

Tony’s sharp laughter made him jump.

"Yeah, I’m your fairy godmother," the young man smiled widely. "Make a wish, sweaty."

Jess snapped her hand up, her gaze lingering on the spot where her nail used to be.

"It’s hard to explain… it’s a kind of magic," she finally said. "A power we were born with. I don’t even know if it’s a gift or a curse."

"Don't start," Tony cut her off sharply.

"I don't know about them, but I’m perfectly happy with my power," Robin interrupted.

Kyle rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the headache.

"And those creatures? The Dark Knight? Who are they?" he asked, looking up at Tony.

"Too many questions, darling," the guy replied with a light, teasing smile.

The memory of their kiss suddenly flashed in Kyle’s mind, spinning around obstinately. He cleared his throat and looked down, trying to hide the faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"We need to leave before those things come back. Answers later," Tony said, finally turning serious.

"Where?" Kyle asked, confused.

"Oh, you’re going to love it there," Robin chimed in with a grin.

Jess, finally pulling herself together, got up from the grass, brushed off her clothes, and pointed her hands forward, concentrating her light energy. A beam shot out, tearing through space and time, making the world itself tremble from the force of her magic.

"What…" Kyle whispered, stepping back as if wanting to run.

But a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Tony winked at Kyle and gave him a little nudge toward the portal.

A bright flash of light, noise, scents, and movement—everything blended into a dizzying vortex. It felt as if time stretched and collapsed all at once. Kyle felt nauseous and squeezed his eyes shut, but he could still feel Tony’s hand on his shoulder, which was strangely comforting.

It wasn't long before Kyle finally felt solid ground beneath his feet. Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his eyes and raised a hand to shield them from the sudden sunlight appearing above.

"Where are we?" Kyle asked, blinking as he adjusted to the light.

"In the world where stories, feelings, and magic are born… our home. Amnos," Robin said with a certain pride and reverence.

"Holy shit…" the young man breathed.

In that moment, he realized: everything that had come before was in the past. He would never be just an ordinary student struggling to make ends meet again. Now… a new universe was opening up to him, the one he had been so boldly thrust into.