WHEN DOOM FOUND ME

I 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. 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…”

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…