webnovel

LitRPG: An Unexpected Beginning

In a world of gray predictability, Kei had settled into a routine that felt never-ending. Every day, Kei wished for something — anything — to change. But when the apocalypse answered, it wasn’t the change he had expected. Instead of sending a forewarning, the apocalypse came crashing like a tidal wave. As chaos unfurled, Kei had to choose between being consumed by despair or embracing the change and finding his destiny amidst the end. If you would like to read about other stories written by me, you can check them out here: https://www.amazon.com/s?i=digital-text&rh=p_27%3ADarkodia+D

Darkodia · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
28 Chs

Chapter 19

As I stack cans of food, I can't help but steal glances at Tim, who's sitting in the corner, arms crossed and brow furrowed. The more I think about it, though, the more I realize that pushing him for answers might not be the best idea. We're all walking on eggshells, and adding more drama could really mess things up.

After a moment of internal debate, I decide that I won't confront Tim, at least not yet. We need to stick together if we want to make it through this. Instead, I'll give him some space, and hope that maybe he'll come around on his own or his doubts will fade with time.

After a while, I take a quick look around the room and realize that exhaustion is etched deep in the lines of everyone's faces. Sara's usually bright eyes are heavy-lidded, her shoulders slumped. Tim leans against the wall, barely stifling a yawn. Lily rubs her temples, blinking slowly as if struggling to stay focused.

"It's been a long day. We should probably try to get some sleep." I suggest. 

Everyone nods, and we quickly hash out a plan for keeping watch overnight. Sara's hand quickly shoots up, her voice a bit too eager as she volunteers, "I'll take the first shift! I'm not that tired, really!" Tim grunts and mutters, "I'll do the second." Lily nods and says, "Third shift for me, then." I shrug and add, "Guess that leaves me with the last one, right before sunrise."

With the watch schedule settled, we start finding spots in the classroom to crash. I hunker down in a corner, using some random backpack as a pillow and throwing my jacket over myself like a thin blanket. The floor is hard as concrete, but I'm so exhausted I barely notice. As I lay there, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling, my mind drifts back to Tim's suspicions.

It's a seriously messed up thought, the idea that one of us is doubting the other. 

I try to shove these thoughts out of my head, focusing instead on the steady breathing of the others. Despite the hard floor and the unease churning in my gut, exhaustion finally takes over. My eyelids start to feel like they're made of lead, and the sounds of the others settling in fade into the background. The last thing I remember before drifting off is the faint, rhythmic breathing of the others.

In the quiet of the classroom, as sleep wraps around me, something weird starts happening. The familiar room slowly melts away, replaced by the empty streets of a city that's been twisted beyond recognition. Huge buildings tower over me, their windows dark and menacing. The sky is painted blood-red, casting a crimson glow over everything.

I am wandering alone, my footsteps echoing loudly in the silent streets. Then, without warning, the ground shakes beneath my feet. From the shadows, these creatures straight out of a horror movie emerge. Their limbs are all twisted up and wrong, and their mouths are gaping open with rows of razor-sharp teeth that drips with fresh blood.

But before I can even react to them, the scene shifts again, and I'm back in the classroom. But it's a nightmarish version of it — dark, with shattered windows letting in the icy night air. The others are also there, but they're unnaturally still, like creepy statues. I call out, my voice echoing hollowly, but there's no response from them.

Twisted creatures suddenly slink out from the darkness surrounding us. I try to move, to fight, but my arms and legs feel like jelly. The creatures edge closer, their snarls growing louder, their teeth just inches from my skin.

At the very moment when I can almost feel the creature's hot, rancid breath on my neck, I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps, the classroom once again quiet and still. The others are still asleep, undisturbed. Sweat trickles down my back, and my heart hammers against my ribs.

I rise silently, my legs shaky from the terrifying nightmare. In the dim light, I see Sara keeping watch, her slender silhouette a reassuring presence against the darkness. I take a step toward her, but then hesitate, stopping in my tracks. After a few seconds of internal debate, I finally decide to go up to her, desperately needing some comfort.

As I approach Sara, I tread lightly to avoid waking the others. She immediately senses my distress as I draw nearer. In the pale glow of the moonlight filtering through the windows, her concerned eyes meet mine. "Hey," she whispers, her voice barely audible, "is everything okay?"

I hesitate for a moment, the horrifying images from the nightmare still clear in my mind. "Just had a bad dream," I reply, trying to shrug it off with a half-hearted smile. But Sara isn't buying it; her eyebrows knit together as she studies my face.

She pats the floor beside her, inviting me to sit down with her. "Want to talk about it?" she offers, her tone gentle and understanding.

I sit down, my back against the cold wall. After a while, I decide to tell her about it. 

Sara listens intently, her expression looking concerned and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. When I finish, she reaches out, and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It was just a dream," she reminds me softly, her voice quivering slightly, "It can't hurt you. We're safe here, I promise."

Her words are simple, but they bring me some small amount of comfort. Sara's presence, her attempt at trying to keep calm despite her own visible unease, helps to soothe my emotions, pulling me back from the edge of…something. She continues to speak in comforting tones, her words like a gentle lullaby in the small classroom.

"You're strong, and you've been doing so much for all of us," she says, her voice steadying as she speaks. "It's okay to be scared sometimes. It doesn't make you any less brave."

As I listen to her, I nod slowly, feeling the tension slowly melting away. We sit in silence for a few more moments, the soft sound of the others' breathing filling the background.

"Try to get some more sleep," Sara suggests, her voice now barely audible. "I'll be here, keeping watch. You'll be safe."

Feeling much better now thanks to her words, I rise and make my way back to my corner. As I settle in and close my eyes, the memories of the nightmare slowly melt away, replaced by the soothing sound of Sara's sweet voice.