Dungeon Raider System

It had been a long day in the supermarket for Kristina, but after a long shift she finally got home. She took the key to her apartment and unlocked the door to her place in a swift movement, then she entered her place breathing a sigh of relief.

She never liked taking the last shift as it usually ended near the curfew leaving her with little time to run back home. Kristina, like every inhabitant of the slums, was aware of the dangers of being outside at night and didn't want to risk it so she always hurried back home.

She took off her shoes and placed the grocery bag on the table. She then moved the red curtains and peeked through the window, fully appreciating the view. It may have not seemed like much, but even the little moonlight that passed the tall buildings in the surroundings and reached her apartment on the tenth floor was a luxury not everyone had.

For that reason, whenever the skies were clear enough and the moon was on the right position, she would turn off the lights to enjoy its blessing.

The small beam of natural light beamed on her ghostly pale hand and she toyed with the shadow for a minute. The shapeless figures that projected on the floor deeply amused her and she would have loved to keep playing with them, but it was almost time for her favorite show.

She turned on the TV, one of her most precious possessions, and sat on the couch with a glass of juice. Her face was lit by innumerable flashes of light as the scenes in front of her shifted.

She didn't have any hobby other than watching TV, just like any second class citizen. But to her, watching TV wasn't just a braindead experience. She loved to put herself in the place of the protagonists, living incredible situations in imaginary lands.

She wanted to escape reality.

The only word that could describe her life was 'average'. Her whole life summed up in nothing but a number on the computer of a government office. No one cared for her, and she cared for nobody. She was a statistic and as such, she lived the average life in the slums, married the average slum rat and had very average friends.

In a sense, average wasn't the worse, but Kristina wanted more. She didn't want to accept her reality, that she didn't matter, that her life didn't matter. She didn't want power or money, she wanted to mean something.

"Mommy?" A child's voice asked probingly.

"Yes, honey, I'm home." Kristina sighed, knowing full well that her time had ran out.

The TV was turned off and she walked towards the room and slowly opened the door to the bedroom. The place was neatly decorated with toys and there was a boy's bed in the middle of the room.

"What took you so long? I'm hungry." A childish voice echoed in the dark room.

"I had to go to work, sweetie." Kristina explained as she entered the room without turning on the lights.

"Mommy, I'm scared, can you check under my bed?"

"Don't worry honey, cryptids can't get inside the city."

"But I'm scared of the bad man." The voice said in a pitiful tone.

Kristina sighed and attempted to get close to the bed, but a tall figure emerged from behind her and snatched her hand.

"How many times have I told you not to come here!?" The man shouted and crossed her face with a powerful slap that sent her stumbling to the floor.

"You can't stop me from seeing my child!" Kristina cried as she covered her red hot cheek with a hand.

"Don't talk back at me! I'm sick of this, I'm your husband and you need to obey me!" The man proceeded to kick her mercilessly over and over. Kristina tried to fight back, but the man was much stronger than she was. Her body was soon covered in bruises and she curled up in pain, but the man wouldn't stop.

"How- many- times- do- I- Need to repeat myself, don't- come here anymore!" The man spoke in between kicks, then took a pause to breathe. He wasn't moved by the sorrowful cries of his wife, they only served to stoke his fury.

He grabbed his wife by the hair and dragged her outside the room with the intention of teaching her the ultimate lesson.

"It's my son..." She said, her voice muffled by pain and fear.

"It's not your fucking son!" The man yelled in anger. "Our son is dead, there's nothing in that room!"

At that moment, someone, or rather, something pulled him into the dark room. The man tried to scream but his voice was cut short with a cracking sound that turned into a gurgling as blood splattered Kristina who was still by the open door.

The crunching sound of bones cracking under an unseen maw echoed in the blackness of the child's room. Only then did Kristina react with a shriek so loud she thought her own eardrums would explode, but even if their neighbors heard her they wouldn't come. No one would come as domestic violence was the core of any slum family and intervening would only cause more trouble.

What followed was a deaf silence, Kristina still lying helpless in the floor. She wanted to escape reality, ever since her son came back that was the only thing she could think of.

For many months she had known this moment would come, but no one believed her. Not her average family, nor her average slum rat husband, nor her average friends. No one believed her her son had come back from the grave.

She was the only one who could see him, no one else could hear him. No matter what she did, she couldn't get him to appear in photographs or video recordings.

"Mommy, I'm hungry." The distorted voice of a boy, accompanied by the dripping sound of blood. "Mommy?"

She knew it, as soon as the TV turned off by itself she knew it was bound to be her last day. She couldn't take it anymore, the pain of seeing her child everyday and no one believing her was too much for an average person like herself. This was the day she would finally give up and look under the bed like her son always asked her to.

"Mommy is coming, sweetie." Kristina said tearfully as she struggled to get up. Discover hidden content at empire

At that precise moment, something crashed through the window and rolled heavily on the livingroom.