Chapter 3 – Hunger’s Lesson

🌑 Chains of Eternity

Kael stared in silence.

Not the comforting kind of silence that came after a storm or in the middle of a quiet night, but the heavy, suffocating silence of a world that had been emptied. His breath rasped in his throat, and for a moment he wondered if he was truly awake, or if this was still part of the nightmare he had stumbled into.

The crimson fog swirled faintly above the cracked earth, shifting in restless currents as though stirred by something unseen. His body ached everywhere, muscles twitching with the memory of the desperate fight he had survived. He blinked, forcing his eyes open fully, and the memory of it hit him all at once—the jagged pipe in his hand, the screeching abomination, the shadows that had spilled from his very being and devoured it whole.

And then, the hunger.

Kael pressed a hand to his chest. It was still there, a low gnawing ache deep inside him, quiet but ever-present, like a starving beast that had momentarily been fed yet would never truly be satisfied. He could feel it curled in the back of his mind, chains rattling faintly whenever his thoughts drifted toward what had happened.

The chains…

He looked down at his shadow. It stretched unnaturally long across the broken earth, the faint light from the fog revealing its edges. For a heartbeat, he thought he saw it move. Not with him—but independent of him. The links shimmered faintly across the surface, coiling and uncoiling like a serpent.

Kael forced his eyes away.

“I can’t afford to lose it now,” he muttered hoarsely. His voice cracked, the sound swallowed quickly by the oppressive fog.

He pushed himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily. His stomach clenched in protest, though he doubted hunger in the normal sense was what he felt anymore. His throat was dry, his ribs ached from where the monster had struck him, and his pipe was slick with blood—black, tar-like blood that seemed to shimmer with faint light before evaporating into nothing.

He needed to move.

The nightmare was not a place to rest, he could feel it in his bones. If he lingered, the fog itself might close in and smother him—or worse, something else would find him.

So he walked.

Each step dragged him deeper into the wasteland of shattered stone and scarred earth. The world was not entirely barren—strange growths jutted from the ground, bone-like spires and brittle black weeds that seemed more dead than alive. Once, he passed what looked like the twisted remains of a tree, its bark peeling away to reveal veins of pulsing crimson light that throbbed faintly in rhythm, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. He did not linger.

Hours passed—though time felt meaningless here—and all the while, Kael wrestled with the unease growing inside him.

The hunger wasn’t just physical. It wasn’t a craving he could suppress. It whispered to him, urged him to remember the rush he had felt when the chains devoured the monster’s essence, when his body had surged with new strength, when his vision had sharpened and his limbs had moved with a ferocity he hadn’t known he possessed.

And he remembered. He remembered too well.

That fleeting moment when he had felt unstoppable.

That terrifying realization that some part of him had wanted more.

Kael clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened. He couldn’t give in. He had survived because he had to, not because he enjoyed it. He wouldn’t let himself become a slave to this… hunger.

But even as he thought it, the chains stirred faintly, mocking him.

---

The silence broke at last.

It was faint, distant at first—a sound carried on the fog like a whisper. Kael froze, his pulse spiking. He tilted his head, straining his ears. It wasn’t the screech of another abomination, nor the growl of some beast. It was something else.

A voice, No—several voices. Shouts. Cries. The unmistakable sound of humans.

Kael’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t alone.

His first instinct was to run toward it. But survival instincts, sharpened by the nightmare, chained him in place. Noise meant life—but it also meant danger. If there were survivors, they might not be any safer than the creatures. And if they were fighting, then something monstrous was near.

Still, the thought dug into him like a thorn. Other people.

He had assumed, deep down, that he was the only one thrown into this place. That he had been chosen, cursed, whatever this was. But if others were here too… then maybe this wasn’t just his nightmare.

Maybe it was everyone’s.

Kael hesitated, then crept closer, careful to keep to the shadows. His footsteps were silent against the cracked earth as he pressed forward, the fog thickening and parting in uneven waves. The sound of voices grew louder, clearer now—definite human screams, sharp with panic and pain.

And then he heard it.

A roar that shook the very ground.

Kael flinched, dropping low, his breath catching. He knew that sound. He had heard something like it before, when the abomination had charged him. But this… this was louder. Stronger.

The hunger stirred violently.

Kael pressed a hand to his chest, teeth gritted as the chains rattled in his mind. They wanted him to go. They wanted him to fight, to kill, to feed.

He shook his head, forcing himself to resist. He wasn’t ready. He had barely survived one. He would die if he rushed headlong into another monster.

And yet… if those voices belonged to people, they wouldn’t last long.

A flicker of memory surfaced unbidden—the night his world had ended. His hands clawing at rubble, the screams of others around him fading one by one until only silence remained. He had survived then, too, but survival had come with the cost of helplessness.

Was he really going to stand by again?

Kael clenched his jaw. His pipe felt heavier in his grip, but his heart steadied. He could feel the chains pulsing faintly, not in rejection, but in anticipation.

He wasn’t ready to reveal himself. Not yet. But he would watch. He would learn. And if the moment came…

He would act.

---

He crouched on the edge of a ridge of broken stone, peering through the fog.

Below, he could make out shifting shapes—several human figures, ragged and desperate, backing away from a creature that dwarfed the one he had killed. It stood nearly twice the height of a man, its hide armored with plates of bone, its claws tearing into the ground with every step. The humans wielded makeshift weapons—metal rods, shattered blades, even rocks—but they were hopelessly outmatched.

Kael’s throat tightened.

The creature roared again, and one of the survivors screamed as it swung a claw, sending him flying into the rocks with bone-cracking force.

Kael’s grip on his pipe tightened. His heart pounded.

The hunger whispered, chains stirring restlessly.

This was the lesson the nightmare was teaching him: survival wasn’t enough. He couldn’t hide. Not forever. To live, he would have to fight. To grow, he would have to feed the chains.

Kael swallowed hard, torn between fear and the burning fire in his chest.

He wasn’t ready. But neither were they.

His shadow shifted, chains glinting faintly against the crimson fog.

And Kael understood, with dawning certainty, that the nightmare wasn’t going to wait for him to decide who he wanted to be.

It was going to force him to choose.

☠️ End of Chapter 3