The forest was pitch black. If Annie hadn't offered to lend Damian a torch he probably would have gotten lost several times. The torch burned brightly, warming up Damian in the chilly night. But even the warmth of the fire couldn't thaw the eerie feeling he felt as he traversed through the unusually quiet forest. He backtracked his steps and eventually found his fanny pack lying under a tree. After confirming that his phone was still inside, he sighed a breath of relief. He snapped the pack back into its rightful position and was ready to head back to the village when he heard the sound of leaves being ruffled. In the silent forest, where Damian heard nothing but the cackling of the fire and his own heartbeat, this foreign sound spooked him. Damian's eyes were glued to where he had heard the sound, something was coming towards him from the bushes. He managed to take a step back when suddenly an arm thrust out of the bush. Damian screamed from the jump scare, which seemed to frighten the person behind the shrubs as their hand twitched at the sound of Damian's voice. Damian managed to calm himself down after realizing that it was a person.

"Help..." a voice croaked.

Damian slowly pulled the arm, revealing a familiar burly man.

"Frank?!"

The once tall and proud village chief was now crawling on the ground, bloodied with his left arm missing, seemingly torn off. His bone could be seen poking out of his wound, which was bleeding non stop. His eyes were cut up and closed, from the looks of it he was never opening them again.

"Damian..? That you?" Frank whispered.

"Don't talk! I'll get you to the village! You can get help there!" Damian declared as he attempted to pick Frank up.

In his heart he knew there wasn't enough time. The village was quite far from where they were. Damian doubted he could carry Frank to the medics in time, if he even could carry the colossal chief. But he had to try. However, Frank slapped Damian's arm as he tried to pick him up.

"I'm...not gonna last..." He grunted. "The elf...was right. Went to check...and was mauled by that...thing."

Frank's breathing was slowing down. He was dying and fast, but before he left, he was determined to give Damian one last order.

"Run...back. As fast as you can. Warn...everyone and evacuate before...it's too late. Don't you dare...let anyone die, you hear me?"

Damian wanted to fulfill the chief's wish and warn the others but he couldn't bring himself to turn his back on who he considered a friend. A person who accepted him into their village and supplied them with food and a place to stay, even if it was because of a prophecy.

"Dammit!" Damian struck his hand on the red-stained grass. "I'm so sorry, Frank."

"You have nothing...to be sorry about." Frank assured. "Now go!"

Damian turned towards the village and sprinted at full speed. Hot tears and snot streamed down his contorted face as he hopped over overgrown roots. Only when Damian left Frank for dead, did he realize that his dark stares and threats were all empty, a mask. He only acted as if he was a bad guy. He yelled and screamed but his cries never held any malice. He was always supportive and kind to everyone, in his own twisted way. In Frank's honor, Damian vowed to save everyone.

I'll grant your last wish Frank. I definitely won't let anyone else die!

Damian's determination pushed him to continue running, despite his exhausted legs pleading for him to stop. Even with the extra adrenaline boost he had gotten, his legs were completely worn out and should have stopped running a long time ago. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Damian exited the forest and arrived at the gates, only to be greeted by the corpses of the village guards. Richard was lifelessly laying on a nearby tree, impaled by a single tree branch. Timithus was on the ground, his body split in two. The wound looked less like a cut and more like a blow. The blood-filled mini crater Timithus' body was sprawled in further proved that something had punched him so hard that his body ripped in half. Whatever attacked them had immense strength.

"I'm too late." Damian whispered in horror as he regurgitated his meals.

The smell of blood oozed from the village. Every fiber in Damian's body urged him to run. Going into the town would lead to certain death. But Damian couldn't run. If there were any survivors he had to save them. He promised.

If that monster is still in there you will die for sure! His thoughts ran amok

Nevertheless, Damian ignored his thoughts and pushed forward, to recover anyone he could. With his torch in hand he entered the village and almost fell unconscious from fainting. The remains of countless village men, women, and children surrounded him as he walked. Damian had greeted them just this morning. Now they were horribly murdered. Most of the people were flung into buildings, as evidenced by their slouched posture and splattered blood, but some suffered worse. A male villager had their head squeezed till it popped. Another man was squeezed from his torso, splitting him in half, similar to Timithus. One person was stepped on, leaving behind a mess that was unrecognizable. Damian vomited more than a few times. The buildings that were once homes were demolished. The villagers that were once living humans were now corpses. Damian trudged on, entering buildings, checking to see if anyone was alive. But his attempts were futile. In the equivalent of the town square of the village, the elf girl that had warned Frank of the coming danger lay on the grass, dead. Her armor was heavily damaged and bloodied. Her bow, which was now snapped in half, lay a few feet away.

We should have listened to her.

Damian had entered almost every house in the village. The only one left was the chief's house. A tree could be seen sticking out from the side roof of the house. Damian didn't want to go in but he needed to, in order to complete his search. He entered the crumbling building.

"Hello?" He cried.

No answer. He made his way to the living room. No one was there.

Maybe they ran. Maybe they're alright in a safe place. He hoped.

But that hope dissolved once he opened the bedroom door. Mary, Annie, and Emilia laid in a pool of each other's blood. They had been crushed by the tree that had crashed through the roof and landed on their soft and fragile bodies. After messily sobbing and apologizing to them for being too late, he left the house. His search was completed, the survivors he found amounted to none. Outside the house, a gargantuan figure met him. It was a giant ape with snow white fur. Or rather it should have snow white fur but the blood stains of an innumerable amount of people dyed most of it dark red. It also was covered in a barrage of arrows, most likely courtesy of the elf girl. It had completely red eyes that widened once it saw Damian, who was too afraid to move.

The beast walked up to the petrified Damian and squatted down to Damian's eye level. It's red eyes that seemed to be glowing in the dark were squinting at him. Damian, fearing for his life, stumbled backwards and fell on his bottom. He closed his eyes and brace himself for what would come next. However, instead of pain, Damian felt something being ripped off his body. Curious as to why the beast wanted, Damian steadily reopened his eyes. The beast was inspecting his fanny pack, trying to open it. Eventually, it succeeded and removed what was inside it. Damian's phone. The beast brought the device to it's face and sniffed it. Suddenly, it crushed the phone with it's bare hands. The broken pieces of Damian's phone fell to the ground as the beast roared in victory and beat its chest.

"No way..." Damian gasped at the realization of the monster's goal.

To destroy Damian's phone. For whatever reason, the beast came to the village to find and destroy his phone, killing countless innocents as a result.

And the one responsible for the ape's arrival was Damian.

It's all my fault. The people of this village died because that monster was hunting down my phone.

The beast finished its victory cry and turned to leave, seemingly forgetting about Damian, but then realized that Damian was standing in front of it. A crude smile that flashed it's sharp teeth emerged on it's face. It winded back its right leg before kicking Damian into Frank's house. Damian was launched into the wall and tore right through it. He lay on the ground, soaked in a forming pool of his own blood. The foundation of the house collapsed, burying Damian within the rubble. Damian could faintly hear the cackle of the beast from his rapidly decaying hearing. His breathing began to slow and his eyelids felt like they weighed a ton.

If only we listened to that elf who warned us about the beast. If only I could go back and tell everyone that she was right.

Damian's eyes gently shut.

If only...

Damian waited for death to take him away, but death never arrived.

The sound of someone knocking on wood woke up Damian. As his eyes opened, he recognized the ceiling. It was the ceiling of his bedroom. Damian was lying in bed. He wasn't heavily injured or dead, he was asleep.

Was that just a nightmare? Yeah, it must have been. I was asleep so I must have woken up from that hell.

The knocking persisted and so Damian went to answer the door. On the other side an annoyed Emilia awaited him.

"Geez, how long were you gonna take? I was knocking for a while." She complained.

"Sorry, I had this really bad nightmare. Shook me up a bit. But everything is fine now." Damian smiled.

"Huh. I've never heard that excuse from you yet. Anyways, get changed quickly, I'll be waiting outside."

After she had left, Damian happily changed into his clothes and finger combed his hair in its usual style, relieved that the nightmare was finally over. He gulped down the glass of milk and grabbed a piece of bread from the plate his caretaker had left him and exited his house.

"Thanks for waiting." said Damian as he locked his door.

"No problem. Let's go." Emilia started walking towards the gates of the village.

After greeting what felt like everybody in the village to Damian, they finally reached the gates, where a single person turned Damian's blood cold. With dread inching up his throat, one sole thought consumed his mind.

Why is she here?

Arguing with the village chief was a lone girl, who had peculiarly long ears. She wore a red breastplate, which changed into a cherry colored quilt like fabric in the stomach area. The knee low skirt diverged from the middle, revealing the front of her thighs. She had a quiver slung over her right shoulder and a refined wooden bow that was curved at the edges on her back.

There was no mistaking it, she was the elf that was in Damian's hellish nightmare.