[Chr24] Night Terror | Jean's Nightmare

In Events ・ By pxrxn0rmxl
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The air was sharp and biting, the stars distant pinpricks of light scattered across an inky sky. Jean’s eyes fluttered open to the freezing chill, his breath misting in shallow bursts before him. His wrists ached, his body heavy and sluggish as he tried to move. The rattling of chains jolted him fully awake. He glanced down and saw his arms stretched taut, bound to cold iron shackles bolted to the stone wall behind him.

The room was eerily quiet, save for the muffled chatter of voices just beyond the open door. There was no roof—only the endless expanse of the winter night above. He flexed his fingers and tried pulling against the chains again. They clinked noisily, sending vibrations up his arms and making him wince.

A voice filtered through the frosty air.

“Is he awake?” a man asked.

“Doesn’t matter. He’ll fight soon enough,” replied another, his tone indifferent.

The word “fight” echoed in Jean’s head. His heart began to race. Fight? Fight who? Or what?

He scanned the room frantically and froze when he noticed someone else slumped against the wall to his left. Another man, chained like he was. The stranger stirred, his head lifting to reveal a face worn with grime and exhaustion. Zane. Jean recognized him from the village—though not well. He was a distant figure who preferred solitude, but they’d spoken enough times to know each other's names.

“Jean,” Zane croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re awake.”

Jean nodded, his lips trembling. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

Before Zane could answer, the voices outside grew louder. Shadows spilled into the room as three figures entered. They were humans, dressed in tattered leather and furs, their faces pale and hard under the dim starlight. Behind them, a fourth figure followed, and Jean’s breath caught in his throat.

It was massive.

The creature’s silhouette towered over the men, its form lean but muscular. Its fur shimmered with a dark, almost liquidy sheen, and its long limbs moved with a predatory grace. Two piercing blue eyes burned like frozen fire from its face, their glow illuminating the room in an eerie light. A thin tail swished behind it, and when it stepped closer, Jean could hear the crunch of its claws against the frost-covered stone floor.

A Night Plague.

Jean had heard these types can be known as stareotypical predators that thrived on despair and blood. He had always dismissed that—until now.

The men stepped aside, their eyes avoiding the beast as if its gaze could kill. The Night Plague moved with unsettling confidence, its head turning to take in the two chained men. Its icy blue gaze lingered on Jean for a moment before shifting to Zane.

It curled its lip back, revealing jagged teeth glinting in the cold light. A low growl reverberated through the room, rattling Jean’s chest. The creature lunged forward, its jaws snapping mere inches from Zane’s face. Zane flinched, a strangled gasp escaping him, but the Night Plague didn’t bite. Instead, it leaned closer, its breath visible in the freezing air.

It smiled—a terrifying, intelligent grin that made Jean’s stomach churn.

Then, with deliberate malice, the creature exhaled. An icy mist enveloped Zane, his screams cutting off as his body froze in an instant. The frost spread from his feet to his head, leaving him encased in a crystalline prison.

Jean’s mind raced. No, no, no—

The Night Plague stepped back, its tail snapping through the air. 

Jean couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. His chest heaved, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The Night Plague’s gaze returned to him, and Jean felt its cold fire pierce through him.

“You’ll be next,” one of the men said, his voice laced with cruel anticipation.

Jean shook his head, panic clawing at his throat. “Why are you doing this?!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “What do you want from me?!”

The man sneered. “You’re bait. The Night Plague likes a good hunt. You’ll run, you’ll fight, and when it catches you, it’ll feed. Same as the others.”

Before Jean could process the horror of the man’s words, another voice cut through the air. It was low and steady, tinged with a defiance that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Leave him.”

Jean turned his head sharply, spotting a figure at the doorway. Chance. The man’s red hair was disheveled, his face lined with dirt and scars, but his eyes burned with determination. Jean hadn’t seen him in years—not since that day. They’d fought together once, back when survival meant standing side by side.

The men exchanged uncertain glances. “Who the hell are you?” one of them barked.

“Someone who doesn’t take kindly to cowards hiding behind monsters,” Chance replied. He stepped into the room, his hands loose at his sides, but his posture ready for a fight. Behind him, Rowan appeared, his brunette hair catching the starlight. Unlike Chance, Rowan was silent, his eyes fixed on the Night Plague.

The tension in the room was electric. The men reached for their weapons, but Chance moved faster. He drew a blade from his belt, its edge gleaming as he lunged forward. The first man fell before he could react, a gurgling cry escaping his lips.

The other two charged, but Rowan intercepted them. His movements were fluid and precise, his fists and feet a blur as he dispatched one man and disarmed the other.

The Night Plague snarled, its attention shifting from Jean to the intruders. It moved with terrifying speed, its claws slicing through the air. Chance ducked under a swipe, his blade flashing as he countered. Rowan grabbed a chain from the wall, using it to whip the creature’s legs out from under it.

“Jean!” Chance shouted. “Get those chains off and move!”

Jean struggled, his numb fingers fumbling with the iron shackles. The fight raged around him, the room a cacophony of roars, shouts, and the clash of steel. Finally, the lock gave way, and the chains fell from his wrists. He stumbled to his feet, his legs shaky but determined.

The Night Plague roared, its icy breath sweeping across the room. Chance and Rowan dodged, the frost coating the ground where they had stood moments before.

“Jean, go!” Rowan yelled, his voice sharp. “We’ll hold it off!”

Jean hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to run but his heart weighing him down. He couldn’t just leave them.

The Night Plague’s gaze locked onto him once more, and Jean felt the coldness of death creeping closer.

“No,” he muttered, his jaw tightening. He grabbed a shard—a jagged piece of ice—and hurled it at the creature’s face. It struck its eye, the beast howling in pain and rage.

Chance took the opening, driving his blade deep into the creature’s side. Rowan wrapped the chain around its neck, pulling with all his strength as it thrashed and roared.

“Jean!” Chance barked. “This is your chance! Run!”

Jean’s chest heaved as he backed toward the door. He didn’t want to leave them, but the fire in Chance’s eyes told him there was no other choice.

With one last look, he turned and ran into the freezing night, the sounds of battle fading behind him.

pxrxn0rmxl
[Chr24] Night Terror | Jean's Nightmare
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In Events ・ By pxrxn0rmxl
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Submitted By pxrxn0rmxl for Christmas Event 2024
Submitted: 4 weeks agoLast Updated: 4 weeks ago

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