The World Ender

12 years ago

It was a cold, rainy night. The wind howled through the trees like a restless spirit, and the sky was swallowed by heavy clouds. The electricity had long since died, leaving the house wrapped in a dim, flickering glow of candles scattered across the living room.

Ten-year-old Sage sat by the window, her small legs curled beneath her on the chair as she quietly ate a bowl of noodles. Ramen was her favourite. Sage didn't like this weather. She disliked rain, but the chill that crept through the room never frightened her. Even as a child, darkness and cold had always felt strangely comforting to her.

On the floor nearby, her younger brother Rory sat surrounded by toy soldiers and broken pieces of plastic dragons, lost in his own imaginary battles. He never had a care in the world.

Deborah stood near the fireplace, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her face was pale, her eyes restless. She usually was a cheerful woman, but today she was different. She leaned toward Sage’s father, whispering something so that Sage and Rory won't be bothered, though the tension between them was impossible to hide.

“We don’t know if it will work forever,” her father murmured grimly. “What if they find another way?” “They won’t,” Deborah replied. “Not until she has protection.”

Sage looked up from her noodles, confused. The strange heaviness in the room had finally caught her attention.

“Mama… what are you talking about?”

Deborah turned toward her daughter.

For a moment, something painful flickered across her face. Fear, regret, and  sadness perhaps, too deep for a child to understand. She motioned softly. “Come here, Sage.”

Sage giggled and hopped off the chair, running into her mother’s arms. Deborah pulled her close, holding her tightly as if afraid the girl might disappear.

Then she gently brushed Sage’s dark hair behind her ear. Her eyes lingered on the small stud earring.

The crystal embedded in it glowed faintly in the candlelight, a strange stone with an orangish hue. It was small and circular. Sage had never liked that earring. But she wasn't allowed to take it off. Deborah stared at it for a long moment before whispering,“Always remember this, Sage. This earring protects you. Never take it off.” Her fingers tightened slightly. “Because if you do… they will be able to reach you.”

Sage frowned. She had asked many questions before.

Why did she need protection? Who wanted to reach her? But every time, the answer was the same. “Monsters.” And she had never believed it. So later that night, when the house had grown quiet and the rain continued to fall outside her window, Sage finished her noodles and climbed into bed.

The candle on her bedside table flickered weakly. She touched the small crystal earring, feeling its cold surface between her fingers. “Monsters,” she whispered skeptically. Then, with a small shrug, she took it off.

For a moment, nothing happened. The room remained silent. The candle flickered. Then it started. The pain. Suddenly her head felt as though it were splitting open. A violent dizziness seized her, and her entire body twisted with agony. It felt as though invisible hands were clawing through her veins.

Sage screamed. Her cries tore through the house as she writhed on the bed, clutching her head. "I—It hurts! Make it stop! Make it stop!” Footsteps thundered down the hallway.

Her parents burst into the room. Sage’s body shook violently as she cried, tears streaming down her face. Her father froze in horror, but Deborah’s eyes immediately darted to her daughter’s ear. The earring was gone. Realization struck her like lightning. She snatched the fallen stud from the floor with trembling fingers and quickly pushed it back through Sage’s ear.

The moment the crystal touched her skin, the pain stopped, as suddenly as it had come. The room fell silent except for Sage’s shaky breathing. Deborah pulled her into a desperate embrace, holding her as if she could shield her from something unseen. Her voice trembled as she whispered into her daughter’s hair,

“Oh, Sage… what have you done?” After that night, nothing was ever the same. Because every single night after that, Sage began to dream, and the things she saw in those dreams were waiting for her.