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WHEN DOOM FOUND ME
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2025-09-23 03:08:03I hated nights like this....
You know... The type where everything goes wrong and life feels like it is laughing at you. My feet hurt from standing all day, my head pounded from my boss yelling at me like I was his personal stress ball, and my phone battery had decided to give up on life before I even left work. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. “Nice one, Nanya,” I muttered to myself, kicking at a loose stone as I walked. “Star employee of the year, walking home broke, tired, and phoneless. Living the dream.” The shortcut I took wasn’t smart I knew that. Everyone warned about this alley, let's be real anyways, has any of them been here, do any of them even care, what if I get robbed or killed, would it even affect any of them, I think it would just be less burden on them. Now that I think about it, I really am taking a big risk walking down here, but the longer way meant another thirty minutes, and at that point, my bed was worth more than my safety. I told myself it was fine. People walked these streets all the time, right? The broken streetlights flickered like they were on their last breath, but hey, that just added ambiance. Creepy, horror-movie ambiance. The silence pressed close. Too close. Then I heard it. I was praying I wouldn't, but I did... talk about gods and answering prayers... Footsteps. Behind me. And I'm sure they are not mine My grip tightened on my bag strap. I walked faster. The footsteps sped up too. “Hey, pretty girl.” My stomach dropped to the floor. The voice was rough, smug. I didn’t want to look, but I had to. Three men. Stepping out of the shadows like they’d been waiting just for me. Their smiles were sharp, the kind you see in nightmares. “Where you going in such a hurry?” one asked, blocking my path like he owned the street. Panic rose up, choking me. My brain screamed run, but my legs wouldn’t. My throat was too dry for a scream. I hated it. Hated how powerless I felt. Again. Always. Then the air shifted. It wasn’t a breeze. No sound. Just pressure, heavy and strange, like the world hit pause. The men looked around, their confidence flickering. And then he stepped into view. At first, he looked like a man. Just… a man. Tall, broad shouldered, his dark coat blending with the night. But something about him felt wrong or too right. His presence filled the space, pulling every shadow toward him. His eyes glowed faintly in the dying light, sharp and unreadable. “Leave,” he said. Not loud. Not shouted. But the command in his voice sank into the air like a blade. The men laughed. One spat. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?” He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He moved. One heartbeat they were sneering, the next they were slammed against the walls, groaning like broken dolls. I didn’t see it happen. My eyes blinked, and suddenly they were down. My breath caught. My knees wobbled. He turned to me then, and my lungs shrank under the weight of his gaze. “You…” His jaw clenched. His voice was low, strained, like he hated even speaking. “You were never meant to cross my path.” My wrist burned. I gasped, yanking up my sleeve and nearly choked. A mark. Glowing. Pulsing like it was alive. “What what did you do to me?” My voice shook. Smooth, Nanya. Real smooth. He stared at it, then at me. His face shifted anger, regret, something deeper. Something ancient. “I warned myself never to do this. And now…” I just couldn't wrap my mind around what it is but please can someone tell me why I'm so demn scared. His eyes locked on mine, burning like fire under ice. “Doom has begun.” And instead of disappearing like some mystery ghost-man, he stepped closer. One step. Two. The air thickened with him, pressing against me. My body screamed run, but my legs betrayed me. I stood there like an idiot, frozen in place. Typical. Up close, he was worse. Too perfect. Too intense. His face looked carved, sharp angles and tired eyes that didn’t belong to anyone ordinary. He smelled faintly like rain and something sharper, something that made my stomach twist. “Well, that’s just fantastic,” I muttered, sarcasm spilling out because it was the only shield I had left. “Almost robbed, now I’m glowing like a faulty lightbulb, and apparently doomed by some tall, dark stranger. Honestly? Best night ever. Ten out of ten. Would not recommend.” He didn’t laugh. Not even a twitch. His gaze stayed locked on mine, and my sarcasm felt like shouting at a hurricane. He stopped just a few feet away. Too close. Too dangerous. Too real. My lips stayed shut, but inside, my head spun with prayers I didn’t even believe in. Please let this be a dream. Please let me wake up in my bed. Please let this man vanish with the shadows. But he didn’t fade. He didn’t blur. He stood there, stepping into my space, watching me like the nightmare had only just started. And that was when I knew…
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MY SAVING DOOM HURT FROM A DISTANT.
I walked into the store, the smell of roasted coffee beans and pastries hitting me like a memory I didn’t want. I should’ve felt comforted, but today, it only reminded me of the calm I no longer deserved or maybe never did. Claire appeared almost instantly, her usual bright energy a jarring contrast to the storm in me. “You know that handsome dude?” she asked, grin wide, eyes sparkling with mischief. I clenched my jaw. “Please, Claire, I just want to be left alone.” “Nice try, baby. But you know I go nowhere,” she replied, hands on her hips, like a general observing a battlefield she knew better than I did. I groaned. “A customer might be in there for you to attend to.” “For me to attend to? Nanya, I’m the manager, remember? The earlier you start speaking, the better for both of us,” she said, voice teasing but firm, like she could see every thought spinning in my head. I had nothing left to argue with. My voice felt hollow, stolen long ago by nights of heartbreak and bitter re
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When I walked into the café that morning, I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. Not relieved. Not excited. Not guilty. Just… suspended. Because how do you cope with suddenly being new money? Not the flashy, "champagne on a Tuesday" kind. Not the kind that changes your clothes or your accent overnight. But the quiet kind. The kind that sits in the back of your mind and reminds you softly, persistently that survival is no longer your only option. The kind that tells you you don’t have to stand here anymore. But I still showed up for work. I had to. I did. The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside, and the familiar scent of coffee wrapped around me like a habit I hadn’t learned how to break. Everything looked the same, the counter with its chipped edges, the stools that wobbled if you leaned too hard, the scuffed tiles I could navigate with my eyes closed. And yet, something inside me felt different. Calmer. Not happy. Not free. Just… steady. Like the constant
MY SAVING DOOM I'VE GOT YOU
Just then, I saw him.He stood across the street, half in shadow, half under the streetlight—like the world itself hadn’t decided whether he belonged to it or not. Damian always did that. Appeared quietly. Never announced himself. Never rushed. As if he knew exactly when I was about to break and stepped in before the cracks went all the way through.I didn’t think.I didn’t check if he was real.I just ran.The pavement blurred beneath my feet as I crossed the street, my chest tight, lungs burning. I slammed straight into him, my arms wrapping around his torso like muscle memory had taken over where my mind failed.He caught me instantly.No stumble. No surprise. Just solid, warm arms closing around me, one hand firm at my back, the other pressing my head against his chest like he was shielding me from something unseen.I breathed him in.Storm. Heat. Something metallic and clean beneath it all.I hadn’t realized how badly I was shaking until his hand slid up and down my back, slow an
MY SAVING DOOM YOU CHOOSE HIM
She didn’t wait for my answer. She turned and started walking toward her car like the conversation was already settled. The implication was clear: get in, or we’re doing this right here. I followed, mostly because arguing with her in public had never ended well for me. The car smelled like peppermint and old receipts. Familiar. Claustrophobic. She got in, slammed the door, then sat there for a moment without starting the engine. Silence. Not the comfortable kind. The tactical kind. I stared out the window. “You know, most parents ask how their kid’s doing before interrogating them like a suspect.” She started the car. “Most kids don’t look like they’re dissociating in plain daylight.” I scoffed. “Wow. Straight to the psych terms.” “I didn’t raise you to be stupid,” she said, pulling into traffic. “And I didn’t raise you to lie badly.” My jaw tightened. “I’m not lying.” “No,” she agreed coolly. “You’re editing.” That hit harder than it should have. We drove for
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I swear I smelled something like lightning. The thought followed me all morning. Not as panic. Not even as fear. Just… persistence. Like a word stuck on the tip of my tongue. Like a memory that refused to take shape. I worked. I smiled when customers smiled. I apologized when they frowned. My hands moved the way they always had, familiar with heat and steam and porcelain. From the outside, nothing about me had changed. That might’ve been the worst part. Because inside, something felt misaligned. As if my thoughts were arriving half a second too late. As if I was watching myself from a seat slightly behind my own eyes. At one point, I caught my reflection in the metal side of the espresso machine. I didn’t recognize her immediately. She looked… intact, Put together, Normal, But there was a distance in her gaze, a quiet alertness that hadn’t been there before. Like she was bracing for something she couldn’t name. I blinked. The feeling didn’t go away. “Order up,”
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As I walked into work that morning, something felt… off. Not in the “the-gods-are-after-me-again” way, but in a quieter, more unsettling way. Like my spirit was three steps behind my body. I blinked at the clock and I was early. Me. Early. For work. wow.Even worse?Claire was already there.She looked up from the register, one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”I dropped my bag behind the counter, rubbing my palms together for warmth. “This is early for you… this is normal work time for me, pretty.”She gave me that look, that Claire look that said she saw ten layers deeper than anyone should be able to see. “Okay… I said I wasn’t going to ask this, but tell me what’s been going on with you, Nanya. You’ve been so out of everything.”“You won’t believe me even if I tell you,” I said, and for once it wasn’t sarcasm. It was the truth. The honest, ridiculous truth.“You can’t tell until you try me,” she said confidently.I gave her my look, the one that usually sca
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The restaurant was warm with the low murmur of voices, silverware clinking against plates, and the faint scent of garlic and bread wafting from the kitchen. Soft jazz hummed from hidden speakers, trying its best to set a cozy mood. For Ethan, it was probably just another pleasant night out. For me,
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I stared at the clock above the counter, the hands ticking far too slowly toward closing time. Every second stretched like it knew what was waiting for me tonight. My shift was almost over, and with each passing minute, my chest tightened.Ethan was still sitting at one of the corner tables, scroll
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The fluorescent lights above the café hummed faintly, too bright for how heavy my head felt. I blinked at the espresso machine as if it were a puzzle I’d never seen before, trying to shake the haze left over from last night. Damian’s words still clung to me, heavy as chains, intoxicating as poison:
MY SAVING DOOM THEN TEACH ME
The words slipped past my lips before I could stop them, reckless and raw. They hung in the air like a spark poised to ignite.Damian’s eyes darkened instantly, the storm in them roaring to life. His grip on me tightened, his jaw flexing as though he was fighting every instinct to consume me whole.
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