The Scent of Terror

June 13, 2030.

Amidst a courtyard, the radio ran with a popular channel.

"Jim, let's talk about it. World War 3, right here in our own backyard. What is the likelihood of that happening?"

"Well, Amanda, you are really putting me on the spot here. I would have to say it is very certain, an almost perfect one hundred percent. I mean, we have had threats exchanged between nations during the last annual global conference. Just yesterday, we saw an internal conflict in Forlan escalate due to foreign involvement from the United States. Increasingly, a growing number of similar situations are seeing a steady upward trend. However—"

"-However, perhaps, we should not concern ourselves with a potential war likely to erupt in a few years. Let's shift our focus to what's happening in the present moment!"

"Are you referring to the anomalies, Jim?"

"Calling them anomalies seems like an understatement. I mean, think about it—the sudden snowfall in Africa. The cold wave in Las Vegas, of all places. The unexplained volcanic eruption on Krakatoa. And just two days ago, the mysterious disappearance of the Midnight airplane. Do you see a pattern emerging, Amanda?"

A hesitant voice came out of the radio. "T-The apocalypse?"

Suddenly, the volume of the radio lessened.

A voice said, "Bound it tight. Father doesn't like it when they squirm."

It belonged to a black-haired man with a dark robe cast over himself. Despite bearing youthful qualities, his face seemed frozen in time as he threw an emotionless glance at Cain.

The man's name was Jarius, and he was Cain's elder brother.

"Y-Yes, brother."

A young boy at his side trembled as he nodded at Jarius. He walked up to Cain and checked the ropes that tied him to the only tree in the courtyard.

Every bone in his body shook, and his heart throbbed. He instantly fastened the ropes on Cain. Occasionally, he missed a few loops, but he did just enough to restrict Cain's minute movements.

"C–Cain, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry," the boy stuttered in whispers and walked over to Jarius. 

Cain frowned. He tried breaking free, but there was nothing he could do. He was like a fish on a chopping block.

As he stared into the eyes of the young boy, Cain let out a sigh and ceased his struggle. 'He's terrified. I shouldn't put in more trouble.'

He knew Enoch didn't want to do this. Out of all his siblings, Enoch was his favorite. He was timid, shy, and funny at times--in a weird way. There was no way he would take delight in murder!

'If not for "him", none of us would be in this position!' Cain thought.

Rushed footsteps abruptly interrupted. A stout middle-aged man walked into the courtyard.

As soon as he noticed Cain, the man walked over to the tree with a composed smile on his face. He stretched his hands and caressed Cain's face.

Cain shivered at the touch of the cold fingertips. They felt like the bony hands of death.

"Are you ready?" The man reached into his clothes and brought out a stone knife.

The knife's edge flashed with an eerie glow as it was exposed to the moonlight. 

Cain narrowed his eyes at the object. 'The same knife he used to kill the others…?'

Cain's eyes trembled with terror as he gazed at the knife. 

He realized the inevitability that was cast upon him. Throughout history, a blade always sought one outcome only. Cold Death.

It hit him. 'Today is the day I die.'

The night chill suddenly rushed into his blood, and the wind whistled into his ear like the whispers of a demon.

Cain's breath came out in a short gasp. Fear had taken over, paralyzing him down to the bones.

Just how did it get to this point?

A few years ago, his family had gone bankrupt after enjoying decades of wealth in the modern world. His father traveled all around the globe for a solution. 

'When he came back, he was different. Mad. Unhinged. He began spouting nonsense about the apocalypse and whatnot. I had thought it was just a phase. After all, our family has never been normal, but…he killed mother and sister…and now, I'm next!'

What nonsense?

Who would believe that?

Cain had once tried to escape, but Jarius caught and brought him back.

"Father, wake up," Cain whispered in pain, a last attempt. "This is not real. The ritual will not work."

The man revealed with an eerie calmness, not one of madness, "It will, son. I traced our roots and found the sacred ceremonies. Do you know that this ritual has been performed many times throughout history? It protected our family for centuries. And it will do the same today."

The man caressed his son's face and said, "I only hope you forgive me when this is over."

When Cain looked into his father's eyes, he instantly knew that his father was gone, deep into the abyss. Those were not the eyes of a father. Those were the eyes of a deranged psychopath.

Even his touch felt foreign.

Still, Cain begged, "Father, please, you cannot possibly think this is going to—"

Suddenly, the blade plunged into his stomach. Cain gasped in sheer agony as a wave of pain overwhelmed him in an instant.

He looked down, watching as his blood spilled to the ground.

'Is this it?' Cain thought.

"Goodbye, Cain," his father said as he slowly backed away.

He watched as his brothers followed suit, leaving only him in the surroundings.

Alone. He was all alone now. 

It was true what they said about death. In the end, one would always go as they came...alone.

He cried silently, tears streaming down his face without a sound. 

This part of the ritual was the most painful part. The sacrifice had to bleed to death before the next morning.

"I don't want to die," Cain murmured to the silent wind.

He truly wanted to see all corners of the world. It was a sad fate…all his life, spent in the god-forsaken mansion. He couldn't even go to school!

"I don't want to die."

He desired to experience all manners of emotions. The thrills of adventures. The adrenaline rush of games. The intense lust of a first night. 

And maybe the warmth of a friend. He wondered how that felt.

Minutes passed, and Cain's tears dried on his face. His fear had long run away, and all that was left was an unsettling calmness.

He waited for death.

As life slowly left him, the surroundings grew colder, as if welcoming him to the afterlife, and his skin grew paler.

A strange sound reached his pale ears. The rustles of bushes echoed behind him consistently.

"W-Who i-is there?" Cain struggled to speak.

There was a strange scent in the air. It wasn't the stench of death that originated from his body. No, it was…

It felt like terror!

*Kekekeke*

A sinister presence latched onto his arm. When Cain looked down, he discovered mysterious red roots growing all over him.

In an instant, excruciating pain shot through his body, followed by a searing agony on his neck.

"Ahhh!" he screamed in shock but was soon silenced as he felt himself pierced from all sides.

The rope tore apart free due to the demonic influence. But Cain was far gone now. He stumbled to the ground, devoid of life.