Footsteps thundered behind me as I sprinted across the bloodstained battlefield. If I stopped running, I would die. The blood-red sky mirrored my darkest thoughts. Smoke filled my lungs. Ash coated my skin. The air tasted of iron and fire; every breath clawed at my throat. But still, I kept running. The man chasing me wasn’t just a soldier.

He was a nightmare.

My breath came in short gasps; my legs threatened to give out beneath me. Heart pounding, part of me screamed to keep running. I could almost hear my own heartbeat screaming in my ears—so much for being brave.

But for how long could I do this? I couldn’t keep running. Not forever.

Skidding to a halt, I drew my sword, hands trembling. The silver blade gleamed in the red light. The soldier faltered for a split second, shrinking back from the blade. However, he soon regained his composure and advanced.

He stopped a few feet away, towering over me. His blade was long and curved, with dark gems lining the hilt. A blood-red mask concealed his face, and he was clad in thick black armour.

He didn’t look tired.

If anything, he looked calm.

The chaos of the battle melted around us as the Dark Soldier lunged. The blade sliced through the air, and I blocked it just in time. Steel clashed against steel; the impact made my arms shake. My knees nearly buckled as I staggered under the force.

He instantly pressed the attack, aiming for my chest. Ducking, I swung low—more desperate than precise—praying for a miracle. One somehow happened, and my sword cut through his armour like butter. Black blood spilled from the wound, pooling at his feet like raindrops in a storm.

Time seemed to stop. The Dark Soldier stumbled backward. The fire in his eyes dimmed for a moment, and he seemed to recoil once more.

I did it.

I actually hit him.

The Dark Soldier looked down at the wound like it bored him. No pain lingered behind his stance.

He straightened, and I watched in horror as the gash healed right before my eyes. The blood on the ground disappeared, and there wasn’t even a single trace that he had been hurt.

No. No! That couldn’t be possible. I hurt him, I know I did!

Shaking his head, he laughed—a deep, screeching sound that made my eyes water.

“You don’t even know what you’re facing,” he hissed. His voice scraped my ears. “The world already belongs to him.”

“I’ll...figure something out,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. But mocking words invaded my mind again, shame nesting deep within my heart. Why did I always hesitate? Why couldn’t I just move?

With a small battle cry, I came at him again. This time, the harsh words egged me on as I desperately tried to prove them wrong. Every attack proved fruitless, however. The Soldier blocked each attack with obvious ease, his relaxed composure revealing just how outmatched I truly was.

Finally, the Dark Soldier seemed tired of the games. He attacked with lethal intent, his sword inches from my chest. If I fell here, no one would even know my name. It’s not like it mattered, anyway.

Terror clawed at my skin as I stumbled backward. He showed no mercy, slashing and swinging his sword aggressively. By the time he still appeared barely out of breath, all my strength had drained away. I just couldn’t keep up, no matter how hard I tried.

My foot slipped in a mud puddle as I swung my sword up, bracing to defend another death blow. He saw a weakness and slashed at my arm. Pain shot through me like electricity. My vision blurred, and I staggered back even more. My eyes gazed at the towers in the distance, jutting like broken teeth against the crimson clouds.

The sword in my grip dipped lower; my body was too tired to hold on. Eventually, the blade slipped from my trembling hands as I stumbled and fell into the cold, dark mud. Red streamed from my arm and onto the ground.

I should’ve known this would happen.

“You were never a threat,” he said, sounding so pleased with himself that it made me sick. But all I could do was lie there, waiting for the blow that would end it all.

Anyone else could have stood their ground. Why couldn’t I?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I braced myself. A few seconds passed before I heard a thud nearby, and then everything went dark…

***

Elias jolted upright in bed, beads of sweat running down his face. The shrill alarm clock rang throughout the room. Cold sheets clung to his skin, sunlight poured through the open window, but it all felt unreal. His heart was still racing, as if a sword hovered inches from his face. Then he realized—he wasn’t on the battlefield; he was in his bedroom. He let out a shaky breath. Of course, it was just a dream. Because even in his own stupid dreams, he was the one running. Not the hero.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Elias reached over to slap the snooze button. Silence fell over the room. Rolling onto his side, he stared at the wall, trying to make sense of it all. The dream had started as small flickers, but now it felt like a full story. And it didn’t end well.

What was that place? Why was he being chased by that... that thing? And why were there monsters, castles, and swords?

So many questions. No answers.

What bothered him the most, though, was a single thought on his mind. What kind of loser couldn’t even win in his own head?

Just once, he didn’t want fear to decide for him.

Once.

The alarm blared again, startling Elias from his thoughts. Quickly shutting it off, he climbed out of bed. His eyes darted towards his desk, which was cluttered with half-finished homework and old action figures. The wooden floor was cold beneath his feet as he made his way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he jumped into a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt before running a hand through his hair. Not that it mattered. He couldn’t care less about how he looked. Cowards didn’t have to.

Elias grabbed his phone and headed for the hallway. The house seemed empty. Even the pets were missing.

In the kitchen, he found his dad. His light green eyes scanned a stack of envelopes. Overdue bills, no doubt. His dark hair was messy, and his wrinkled clothes looked suspiciously like yesterday’s. Looking up, Elias’s dad forced a smile and shoved the bills into a drawer, out of sight.

The kitchen was a patchwork of chipped tiles and taped-up reminders. A photo of Mom was taped on the fridge; her smile faded.

She shouldn’t be there. She should be here.

“Hey, kiddo.”

"Uh, hey, Dad," Elias mumbled, swallowing around a lump in his throat. He tore his gaze away from the fridge, heading to the pantry for a granola bar.

His dad studied his face. “Bad night?”

Elias didn’t look up. “No. It was...fine.”

He was surprised at how easily the lie slipped out. At least he was good at one thing, pretending to be fine.

His dad sighed. “You know, when you were little, you had all kinds of dreams. Dragons, castles...you’d tell us everything.”

“Things change,” Elias said quietly. He wished they didn’t.

“I know, I know.” Another sigh. “Takes some getting used to.”

There was a long pause before Elias spoke again. “Speaking of, don’t you think I’m a little old for camp? Isn’t it...kind of for younger kids?”

“Too old? Thia camp’s for kids thirteen to sixteen,” his dad replied with a knowing look. “Why do you ask? Don’t you want to go?”

“Well... It’s in Florida. I have to fly there today, and the camp fees… It’s expensive.”

His dad’s face tightened with disappointment. He walked over, placing a hand lightly on Elias’s shoulder before pulling it away, as if they were feeling out a connection they’d both missed.

“Don’t worry about money. We’ll figure it out. We always do, don’t we?”

“But with Mom in the hospital…” Elias swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in his throat. “Aren’t I more needed here?”

“No. Your place is at camp, having fun with kids your age. I’ve got things under control.”

He said the words as if it were that simple. But it wasn’t.

Biting his lip, Elias nodded, reluctant but resigned. Maybe camp would be a fresh start. Or, maybe, he’d just find new ways to mess up. “I’ll...go get my stuff, then.”

As he walked away, something outside the window caught his eye. Outside, the world looked faded. Lawns overrun with weeds, mailboxes leaning at odd angles, sidewalk cracked. And just for a heartbeat, he thought he saw the tip of a scaly tail. But it vanished before he could get a better look.

That couldn’t be real.

Could it...?

Shrugging it off, Elias continued up the stairs. It was probably nothing.