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He was fighting for his life but it wasn’t enough. He lost. He died. He left his son all alone out there fighting an impossible battle. There is not way he can win. They are.. or he is fighting against monsters.
They are black humanoid shapes, with a skull instead of a flesh head. They have razor shape claws and don’t seem to feel pain, they can keep going after you stab them like you only poked them in the side.
He didn’t want his son to face his same fate though. His son was younger than him and deserved to live longer, to live a long life. He would not let his son die without trying to help him first. There wasn’t much but he had to be able to do something.
Stepping through the cabin wall he saw his son in the yard, still standing tall but so out numbered and out matched. There were so many monsters and they were all slowly walking toward his son. He was thanking whatever god was out there that at least the monsters were slow.
Walking toward his son bypassing all the monsters he bent and scooped up a scythe. Don’t ask from where he doesn’t even know, it was all instinct, bending to pick the weapon up.
As he got closer to his son he held out the weapon for him to take and use to save his life saying, “You have to finish this.”
His son looked right at him whether it was pure luck or he could see him he did not know. His son looked determined but grim like he knew he wasn’t making it out of this alive but he was giving his son the exact weapon he needed to beat the monsters that were closing in so he didn’t understand the face before his son spoke.
”I can’t kill them.”
Now he knew why his son looked so grim. It was because he was bracing himself to die because he couldn’t get himself to kill the monsters, but he did not understand why he couldn’t kill them. They were monsters!
Sadness filled his spirit as he looked at his son and what he had decided his fate would be. His son was such a lunatic for not just killing the monsters that wanted and had no qualms killing him but his son was a gentle soul. He still could not understand but chose to let his son know that he supported him because even if he didn’t agree, he would always be there for his son and what he wants. Even if it means he doesn’t live through this experience.
With great sorrow he said, “I knew someone like you, they refused too kill as well. Instead they ran with the wolves. And now they howl with sorrow at the moon.”
His son didn’t answer him, he doesn’t know if he heard him or not but the monsters were close, too close. They reached his son and he couldn’t look. So instead he turned and walked away from his son’s tortured cries as the monsters ripped his to shreds.
The scythe faded away in his grip, leaving his hand bare to dig his nails into his ghostly palms. He didn’t stop or look back, he couldn’t bring himself to see what the monsters had done to his son, to his treasure, to the one good thing in his life since his wife had passed.
Swallowing down the sorrow of loosing his son he kept walking. He started to fade the farther he got from the cabin and the monsters and his treasure.
However he knew he was not at peace, he knew that he would stay on this cursed earth for who knows how long. Without his wife and treasure, he had no one left on this cursed earth. And that was what made him start to feel the anger and bitterness that came with being alone, not by choice but by force. Who knows how long he will be alone. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t even know how he knows he’s not at peace but like with the scythe, he assumes it’s because of some primal instinct.
Feeling the anger and bitterness start to grow overwhelmingly fast at what had happened to him, he finally fade.