Anomaly

First of all, I need to say that the sight of my headless body was anything but pleasant. To make things worse, the small pieces of what was left of my head scattered in every direction formed a scene that could only be described as grotesque, at the very least, downright disgusting.
The “good” side, if you could even call it that, was the fact that I didn’t feel any pain at all, not even the slightest discomfort, despite being quite literally decapitated.
Of course, that did nothing to lessen the mental damage caused by the surreal sight in front of me. From what I could tell, the rest of the team was suffering the same kind of silent shock, each person dealing with the absurd scene in their own way.
“Uh, I... I think I’m gonna throw up” muttered one of the reaction team members, bringing a trembling hand to his mouth as he turned his gaze away, his face pale and his stomach churning at the sight.
“Disgusting!” Rupert exclaimed, his face twisting in pure revulsion as he instinctively stepped back.
Well... I really hoped he was referring to the human a few steps ahead, the one who was, let’s be honest, missing his head, and not to me. Especially considering that he was the one who caused it.
My own head, on the other hand, should have reconstructed itself within seconds. The only reason it hadn’t was because I was deliberately slowing the process down. I’m not entirely sure how I’m even managing to do that.
All I know is that, at some point, I thought, really hard, that I wanted my regeneration to take longer. And before I even realized it, that was exactly what was happening.
Leaving behind the disturbing sight of the headless human, I immediately turned away. At the same time, I sent a mental message to everyone, filled with urgency: (We need to get out of here. I won’t be able to delay my regeneration for much longer... and honestly, I really don’t want to experience my head exploding again if it can be avoided)
They exchanged glances for a few seconds before, almost simultaneously, turning their attention to Rupert. There was no outright accusation on their faces, no open anger, but their looks made a heavy, silent discomfort painfully clear, like something no one wanted to be the first to say out loud.
Rupert noticed. His eyes quickly scanned each of them before settling on me, or rather, on my headless body. He let out a deep sigh, looked away for a moment, and then spoke, his voice slightly irritated, though the guilt underneath was hard to hide.
“Alright... fine. This one’s on me. I didn’t mean to... you know, blow your head up or anything. Honestly, I didn’t think the shot would come out that strong” Rupert said, muttering the last words almost to himself.
With that, we turned and ran. Fragments of my mind kept catching up to me, snapping together like pieces of a puzzle on the verge of completion, and I knew that wasn’t just a metaphor. We probably had less than a minute before the knife-wielding lunatic resumed the chase.
As we ran through the absolute darkness, broken only by the unstable glow of my newly reformed eyes, I noticed Rupert constantly looking back, his neck stiff and his breathing ragged, as if he expected the knife-wielding maniac to leap out of the shadows at any second.
The hurried sound of our footsteps echoed strangely around us, blending with the oppressive silence of the place. That was when he finally snapped, his voice bursting out, thick with panic and disbelief: “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?! Why is there a lunatic with a knife chasing us inside an anomaly... in the middle of the ocean?!”
Everyone seemed to be carrying the same questions. After all, it’s not every day that, in this line of work, you end up being chased by... well, a human wielding a knife. Usually it’s mutant dogs, giant octopuses, or monsters made of molten lava, absurd threats, sure, but predictable in their own way.
Still, there was something different about this situation. I felt a strange familiarity with that man, an unease that was hard to explain, made even worse by the unsettling fact that everything that happened to him somehow also happened to me.
“The fact that everything that happens to that guy is reflected on the
makes this whole situation a lot more complicated. We can’t just shoot him without understanding exactly what’s going on” Victor commented, turning his gaze toward me. At that very moment, I felt my head reassemble once again, fragments rearranging themselves until it reached about eighty percent of its original form.
“I really hope you have some idea what’s going on, Arthur, because we desperately need a little brainpower right now!” Rupert shouted, running a hand through his hair as his trembling, desperate voice echoed through the tense environment.
Arthur remained silent for a few moments, his expression heavy and his breathing held, as if he were weighing every possibility with extreme care. His eyes narrowed slightly, reflecting a deep concern. Then he finally spoke, his voice firm and low, cutting through the air: “Tenebrya’s awakening is probably unstable. Her powers are out of control”
He shouted the words as he ran, his hurried footsteps echoing around us. For a brief instant, his gaze flicked in my direction, filled with unease, before turning back to the darkness ahead.
“According to my research, her powers manifest primarily within the realm of dreams and fears” he continued without slowing his pace: “Children, for instance, tend to have more concrete fears, usually physical ones, monsters hiding in the dark, shadows that seem to take shape”
Arthur’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening: “That man following us... he’s probably someone connected to a deep trauma of the Angel of Death. That would explain the link between them, and also why hurting him affects her so directly”
I wasn’t sure if what Victor was saying truly made sense. I was an anomaly, and to begin with, were anomalies even capable of developing trauma? And why would I have a trauma involving a human holding a knife? None of it added up.
Still, there was something strangely familiar about that human. I wasn’t afraid of him, far from it. What I felt was confusion, an unsettling sense of recognition without a clear source, as if I were staring at an incomplete memory.
Beside me, Rupert seemed to be following a similar train of thought. His expression grew darker by the second, his narrowed eyes betraying that he, too, was trying to find meaning where none seemed to exist.
“Shit...” Rupert muttered, wiping a sweaty hand across his face: “I really hate this job”
No one bothered to argue with him. The silence that followed was almost a collective confirmation. Each member of the response team was probably doing the same quiet math: was the risk really worth the paycheck?
Rupert hated to admit it, but the answer kept surfacing in the back of his mind. Maybe it was. Especially when that payment far exceeded what many powerful people in the world would ever see in an entire lifetime.
“We’ll worry about that later!” Victor shouted beside me as he ran. Sweat poured nonstop down his flushed face, dripping from his chin with every hurried stride.
In the middle of our escape, his eyes shifted and met mine, or at least what was left of them, since my head still hadn’t fully reformed.
I’ll admit it: the confused, slightly horrified look on his face was a little funny. He swallowed hard before finishing, breathless: “I really hope you know where we’re going”
I nodded slowly and kept running, my thin, delicate feet slapping against the damp grass with each hurried step. Only a few seconds remained before the knife-wielding lunatic resumed the chase, and that certainty hammered at my mind like a constant warning.
I kept my pace through the oppressive darkness, guided more by instinct than by sight. All I wanted was to reach somewhere safe, preferably wherever Tenebrya was.
We kept running through the dark. Exactly one minute passed before the last piece of my head finally snapped back into place, as if something invisible had been forced to lock together.
Almost at the same instant, the sound of footsteps echoed behind us. They weren’t loud, nor did they sound threatening. Each calm, overly steady step only made our anxiety worse, because we knew exactly who it was.
“He’s coming again!” Rupert shouted, casting a quick glance over his shoulder.
We still couldn’t see anything. Behind us, there was only dense, suffocating darkness. Even so, the footsteps echoed clearly, growing louder and more rhythmic with every passing second, unmistakably signaling someone’s approach.
We ran for several more minutes, the heavy sound of footsteps behind us becoming sharper and closer. No one dared look back, there was no need to. Fatigue was starting to weigh on everyone’s muscles, our breathing grew short and burning, and our legs screamed with every stride.
We’d probably been running at full speed for about five minutes, but it didn’t feel like we were pulling away from the thing. On the contrary, the rhythm of those footsteps suggested it was closing in, relentless, shortening the distance bit by bit.
I briefly considered asking Rupert to shoot me in the head again. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea. But let’s be real, watching your own head explode, even without feeling pain, is a deeply bizarre experience. Don’t try this at home. So I dropped the idea. If that lunatic caught up to us, I’d figure something out... or at least, that’s what I told myself as I kept running. That was when I noticed something ahead.
My feet stopped instantly, as did my thoughts, sharpened by instinct, echoing in everyone’s minds at the same time: (Stop!)
It was a sharp command, given without explanation. Unfortunately, it came too late for some. Victor, Rupert, and Arthur stopped immediately when they heard my voice. The others hesitated for a split second, looking at me without understanding what was happening, then their bodies simply dropped.
They fell into the abyss ahead as a colossal fissure suddenly tore open before us. The opening ripped through the ground with a dull, thunderous crack, as if the earth itself were being split in half. It looked bottomless, a black canyon swallowed by absolute darkness. There was no time to hesitate. I had to think fast.
My arms were engulfed by thick, smoking darkness, cold like mist and crushing in its weight. The shadow tore free from me, stretching through the air as it split into multiple extensions. Each one took the shape of shadowy tentacles, slithering down into the darkness below.
The shadows crossed the void and wrapped around the members of the anomaly response team who had fallen into the deep abyss. One by one, I hauled them back to the surface, feeling the weight of their bodies, and the resistance of the darkness itself, fighting the return.
When they were finally safe, their stunned expressions and slightly trembling bodies told the story of an experience they’d rather not repeat. Some gasped for air; others remained completely silent, still staring into the void as if afraid the abyss might open again at any moment.
Victor was the first to speak, his steady voice cutting through the tense air around us: “A canyon suddenly appearing while we’re being chased by a knife-wielding lunatic?” he said, letting out a short breath through his nose.
He ran a hand through his hair, his furrowed brow betraying his growing irritation: “Yeah” he muttered, clearly annoyed: “I’m really not liking this”
I couldn’t agree more. Still, there was no time to dwell on it. The footsteps were getting closer, louder with every second, pounding against my nerves.
And the worst part? I couldn’t see the other side of the canyon, only endless darkness. But that wasn’t even the scariest part: (I... think we need to jump. I’m almost certain Tenebrya is down there)