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Survivng ragnarok

Oliver Vigilanco, a 16-year-old Mexican boy, as he navigates the chaos unleashed by the Appearance of Norse god “Thor “ As the city grapples with the sudden onslaught of extreme weather and supernatural occurrences, Oliver discovers that he is at the center of an ancient prophecy foretelling the end of days—the legendary Ragnarok. -*******- -updates on Saturday and Sunday -

O_gon · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
10 Chs

system ?

A few days has passed since Thor's appearance, a sense of unease settled over the city. The once-sweltering heat gave way to an icy chill, the air thick with the promise of impending doom. Oliver couldn't shake the feeling that something dark and sinister was lurking just beyond the edges of his reality.

Despite the chaos that had erupted in the wake of Thor's arrival, life in the city tried to return to normal. But the streets remained tense, the atmosphere charged with an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty. Oliver and his family kept to themselves, wary of the dangers that lurked in the shadows.

During the night , as Oliver laid in bed, trying to find solace in sleep, he was jolted awake by the sound of screams echoing through the night. His heart pounded in his chest as he scrambled out of bed, his mind racing with thoughts of danger and uncertainty. Stuff like this usually happens due to the gangs in the city , but this was unordinary

With cautious steps, Oliver made his way through the darkened hallway, his senses on high alert. The air seemed to crackle with tension, every sound magnified a hundredfold in the silence of the night.

As he approached the living room, his breath caught in his throat. There, illuminated by the pale moonlight streaming through the window, stood a monstrous creature—a wolf of immense size, its jaws dripping with blood as it feasted upon its prey.

Oliver's mind raced as he struggled to make sense of the scene before him. [An Fenrir!?]

His body froze in fear, his heart hammering in his chest as adrenaline surged through his veins. He knew he should run, to flee from the danger that lurked before him. But a voice deep within him whispered that he could not turn away—that he must confront the creature head-on if he hoped to survive.

Summoning every ounce of courage he possessed, Oliver stepped forward, his eyes locked on the beast before him. With trembling hands, he reached for the nearest object—a chair, overturned in the chaos of the room.

"Hey!" Oliver shouted, his voice trembling with fear and defiance. "Leave them alone!"

As Oliver's trembling voice echoed through the room, Fenrir turned his gaze towards him, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and malice. Before Oliver could react or even think, the massive wolf disappeared in a blink of an eye, only to reappear inches away from him.

"You're a stupid and brave one," Fenrir growled, his voice dripping with contempt as he loomed over Oliver.

Fear gripped Oliver's heart as he stumbled backward, his mind racing with panic. Before he could find his footing,

[SHIT SHIT SHIT]

Fenrir lunged forward, his jaws closing around Oliver's arm with a sickening crunch.

Pain exploded through Oliver's body as Fenrir's razor-sharp teeth tore through flesh and bone. With a cry of agony, Oliver fought to free himself, but Fenrir's grip was unrelenting.

And then, with a savage growl, Fenrir slammed Oliver into the nearest wall, the force of the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Darkness threatened to consume him as he struggled to stay conscious, his vision swimming with pain and fear.

But Fenrir was not finished. With a snarl of rage, the monstrous wolf tore into Oliver's legs, rending flesh and bone with each savage bite. Oliver's screams echoed through the room as he writhed in agony, helpless against the onslaught of the creature before him.

"This is what you get for running away, boy!" Fenrir roared, his voice filled with fury as he delivered his brutal punishment.

Through tear-filled eyes, Oliver caught sight of his mother and sister, huddled together in terror as they witnessed the horror unfolding before them. With a desperate cry, Oliver begged for their lives, his voice raw with desperation and fear.

"Please, don't kill them!" he pleaded, his words echoing in the silence of the room.

But Fenrir paid no heed to Oliver's pleas. With a savage snarl, he lunged towards Maria and Elena, his jaws dripping with blood as he prepared to deliver the final blow.

And in that moment, as Oliver felt hopeless, He regretted trying to be an hero , like those novels he read . He laid there in an pool of his blood . . .

" This was all my fault " said Oliver in mustering all his strength to speak

he heard a voice—a voice unlike any he had ever heard before.

[Welcome, chosen warrior,]

the voice said, its tone both familiar and otherworldly. [You have been selected by the gods to be the savior of humanity.]

[Savior ?]

With those words ringing in his ears, Oliver's consciousness slipped away,