Obscurum

"OBSCURUM!" A voice bellowed from outside, shattering the early morning tranquility. An immediate cacophony followed as an alarm wailed, rousing Tasha from her slumber. She glanced down and realised she was still clad in her uniform, a reminder of a late-night shift that now seemed a world away. Glancing at the clock – 5 a.m. – she knew she had little time to react.

"OBSCURUM!" The voice repeated its urgent cry. Tasha rushed to the window, parting the curtains to unveil a surreal scene. In the dim light of dawn, a throng of people flooded the streets, their frantic footsteps echoing through the chilled air as they desperately sought shelter.

A pervasive sense of dread hung in the atmosphere, sending shivers coursing down her spine. Without hesitation, she darted for the front door. However, as she reached it, her mother's voice halted her in her tracks.

"Don't go," Janelle pleaded with Tasha.

Tasha's heart raced, torn between her duty and her mother's worry. She turned, her voice quivering as she responded, "I have to. I have to go and protect people."

Tears welled in her mother's eyes as Tasha approached and enveloped her in a heartfelt embrace. "I love you," she whispered, the words carrying the weight of an unspoken promise, a testament to the role she had chosen to play in a world on the brink of chaos.

Tasha made a frantic dash for the door. With determination, she surged forward, her footsteps echoing down the deserted street. Her destination was clear – the Town Centre, where a gathering of both Guards and citizens awaited, armed and unified in their resolve to protect their community.

Tasha recalled a story her grandmother used to tell, a tale woven through generations, about a time shrouded in darkness.

When night-time descended, so did a fog, so dark and evil, it stripped an entire city of its life.

As the fog lifted, it was essentially the same as before, human's and life remained, but their souls did not.

A person without a soul is not a person at all, your morals and values count for nought.

Without order, life is meaningless, it is futile, and that is how the Plague began.

Crime was rampant, disease was too, a life without living seemed desirable for all.

People prayed it was just a myth, but then attacks become more frequent.

The world became a shadow of its former self, what once was a kind, and just planet now gone.

Obscurum, it was called because light was no more, all we now know is The Darkness.

Suddenly, a sensation of pressure gripped Tasha's skull, not a harmful force but an unmistakable discomfort. She observed others in the vicinity clutching their heads, their expressions mirroring her own unease. In the midst of this perplexing moment, a voice emerged, piercing the shared sensation with its message…

"We are Obscurum, the being that dwells in the darkest recesses of existence, a seething maelstrom of malevolence. Across the endless expanse of time, we have borne witness to humanity's relentless descent into depravity, a scourge that has defiled this once-pristine world. In our stygian vigil, we watched as selfishness and avarice became the guiding stars of your pitiful existence, paving a path to your own damnation.

The chronicles of your kind, etched in the annals of history, are but a litany of sins, a haunting dirge sung by the planet itself. Wars, like festering wounds, have scarred the very land and sky. The rivers, once clear and pure, now run thick with the residue of your unquenchable thirst for power. The forests, ancient sentinels of wisdom, stand as mere skeletons, their grandeur sacrificed to your insatiable greed.

We, the antibodies of this once-vibrant realm, have emerged as the vengeful avatars of retribution. Our purpose, born from eons of despair, is singular—to purify this land, to scourge it of your blight. We are the harbingers of your doom, and you are now trapped within the relentless, remorseless grasp of our shadows.

The prophecies, whispered with dread in the hollow winds of ages past, foretold your ruin. They echoed through time's very tapestry, yet your kind, shackled by arrogance and hubris, averted your gaze from the harbingers of fate. You stood upon the precipice of your own extinction, heedless, and now, the abyss yawns wide.

The hour of reckoning draws near, the pendulum of fate swinging inexorably toward your annihilation. As the final embers of your futile legacy flicker in the abyss, the somber dirge of humanity's demise echoes through the void. The cosmos itself bears witness to the cataclysm that awaits, for the human race, once exalted, now faces the abyss of its own extinction. In the darkness, we await your end, for the world hungers for the silence that only your absence can bring."

A shroud of dark fog enveloped the assembled crowd, casting an ominous pall over their faces. In that dire moment, Tasha's thoughts raced, consumed by the tireless efforts of the few who had dedicated their lives to the betterment of the many. The Guards, the Deciders, and the advocates for democracy, including Tasha's own mother, had toiled endlessly, fighting to uphold the rights and dignity of each individual.

Amidst the swirling obscurity, Tasha held a deep conviction within her heart—a belief that society teetered on the precipice of greatness. All they needed was the gift of time to realise their dreams. But it was a cruel irony, for time was slipping through their fingers like grains of sand, and it seemed that their moment had already passed.

The torment of the fog was excruciating, its spectral embrace suffocating their hopes. Yet, against all logic, the pain began to relent, as if some unseen force was granting them reprieve.

"We have heard your pleas," echoed a voice from the abyss, its timbre carrying the weight of judgment. "Your deadline has been extended. Prove to us that the human race is worth more than we believe. A sacrifice must be made, however. A portion of your population has been removed. You must convince us that you are deserving tenants of this host planet. You have ten years."

With that, the oppressive fog lifted, unveiling a chilling scene. Tasha's gaze swept the surroundings, revealing an unsettling void where familiar faces had once stood. Commander Jask was among the missing, leaving an unmistakable emptiness in their ranks.

The voice of Lucas shattered the silence. He drew close to Tasha, embracing her with urgency. "Why did it just disappear? What happens now?" he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Tasha, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty, could only offer a somber reply, "I don't know." They stood together, their hearts heavy with the weight of an enigmatic future, as the world around them plunged into an era of unknown challenges and relentless trials.

In the aftermath of the enigmatic decree, the survivors of the fog were left to grapple with the profound changes that had just transpired. The loss of their fellow Guards and comrades weighed heavily on their hearts, casting a long shadow over their once-united ranks.

Tasha and Lucas, intertwined in their shared uncertainty, scanned the now-clearing streets, searching for answers in the eyes of those who remained. Questions hung in the air like ominous storm clouds, the uncertainty of their fate shrouding them in a disconcerting haze.

The news of the deadline extension and the stipulation for proving humanity's worth reverberated through the crowd. Whispers and conversations buzzed with speculation, as everyone tried to fathom the nature of the sacrifice that had been made, and what lay ahead in these critical ten years.

Tasha knew that their society, for all its flaws and shortcomings, was on the cusp of transformation. The dream of a just, equitable world was tantalisingly close, but the road ahead was now fraught with unforeseen challenges and sacrifices.

As the days passed, they began the arduous process of regrouping and reorganising. New leadership emerged to fill the void left by Commander Jask's disappearance, and the Guards redoubled their efforts to ensure the safety and prosperity of their people.

The advocates for democracy, like Tasha's mother, continued their tireless work, striving to demonstrate that humanity was indeed worth more than their enigmatic overseers believed. They engaged in a delicate dance of diplomacy and advocacy, working to bridge the gap between their society and the mysterious entities that held their fate in their spectral hands.

With every passing day, the dystopian world seemed to hang on the precipice of an uncertain destiny. Tasha, Lucas, and their fellow survivors were determined to face the challenges that lay ahead, to prove the worth of humanity, and to ensure that their ten years were not squandered in vain. The countdown had begun, and with it came a renewed determination to forge a future that was worthy of the sacrifices made in the shadow of the dark fog.

The night descended upon Ravencroft, its familiar shadows taking on a haunting hue as obscurity crept through the town's veins. Tasha had returned home, her thoughts consumed by the horrors she had witnessed.

As she entered their modest home, her heart ached with a strange foreboding. Her mother, Janelle, was not there to greet her as she usually was, a warm smile on her face and an embrace that melted away the cares of the day. Tasha's footsteps echoed hollowly in the silent house, and a sense of dread gnawed at her.

She called out, her voice wavering with unease, "Mother? Are you here?" No response. Anxiety turned into a tightening knot in her chest as she searched the dimly lit rooms. It was then that she heard it—a sinister, otherworldly whisper, a voice that sent shivers down her spine.

"Mother!" Panic welled up inside her as she rushed towards the source of the voice. In the hallway, she found the bedroom door ajar, a faint, ghostly light seeping through the gap. Pushing the door open, her worst fears materialised before her eyes.

Janelle stood in the middle of the room, her once-bright eyes vacant, now consumed by a darkness that seemed to emanate from within. The room itself was a swirl of malevolent shadows, twisting and writhing like living entities.

"No, no, no!" Tasha's voice quivered as she staggered backward, her mind struggling to comprehend the nightmarish scene unfolding before her. The dark fog that had just a few hours ago attacked Ravencroft had now invaded their home, its suffocating presence sapping the life from her mother.

Tasha's legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to run, to escape this living nightmare, but her body refused to obey. She was paralysed, forced to witness the horrifying transformation of the woman who had raised her, her pillar of strength.

As the cloud tightened its grip on Janelle, her eyes briefly met Tasha's. In that fleeting moment, a spark of recognition flickered, a desperate plea for help. But it was too late. The shadows swallowed her mother whole, leaving behind only an empty, lifeless shell.

Tasha's world shattered, and a gut-wrenching scream tore from her throat. Tears streamed down her face as grief, anger, and despair intertwined in a maelstrom of emotions. She had lost her mother, her guiding light, to the insidious darkness that had now plagued their town.

In that harrowing instant, Tasha's resolve solidified. She would not rest until she unraveled the mysteries of Obscurum, until she avenged her mother's death and cleansed Ravencroft of the forces that sought to destroy the opportunity they had now been given. With trembling hands, she reached for her Guard uniform, determination burning in her eyes. Obscurum had taken her mother, but it had also awakened a fierce determination within Tasha—a determination that would drive her to confront the very heart of darkness itself.