Nightmare Mythos

Chapter 1: Memory Of The Past

"Children, what do you think Nightmares are?"

Once in a while, I couldn't but remember this question posed by my teacher.

It was the time when I was still a child, oblivious about what was really happening. Although I couldn't remember his face, name, and almost everything about him, his soothing demanding voice was all I could recognize when he posed this question.

I tried to think hard about it when I had a chance to ponder but my efforts were futile.

Still, even if it was very vague, I can remember pieces of it.

It was probably because his words got stuck in my head ever since.

I remember raising my hand to answer.

"Teacher, isn't that what happens when you have bad dreams?"

The teacher standing in front of the board seems to subtly chuckle. For some reason, I felt him staring at me for a brief moment before answering.

"Well, I guess outskirts people like us aren't suited to be shared with what's supposed to be general knowledge for everyone to know. You are still kids, yes. But even you people should learn what the known knowledge of what these Existences are,"

Faintly remembering how other children appeared disinterested in such topics, I realized how engrossed I was in the incoming discussion.

"Nightmares are manifested Entities that came from somewhere I don't even know myself. The word 'Nightmare' itself was just invented as it fits right with the description of how harrowing these creatures are to humanity. These entities are otherworldly beings with unknown purposes in this world.

T-their... our first appearance happened a thousand years ago and only a century had to pass when humans discovered their existence,"

The teacher halted for a brief moment.

Squish—!

At the next second, I vaguely remember feeling a liquid splashing across the side of my face but I didn't mind it at all. The revolting sound of flesh being torn apart, the slurping sound of an entity permeated like when drinking water through a straw, and the soothing voice of the teacher resumed.

"Our existences corrupted humans in a way you children wouldn't even imagine. Nightmares grew that way. We feast on you lowly humans."

Splash—!

"But for some reason, humans found a way to fight back. It was funny how it took three more centuries to come up with a solution that didn't even guarantee the user's safety when exposed to such power. Well, humanity's greatest redeeming quality is their adaptability after all."

Splash—!

At this point in my memory, my vision became clouded. The appearance of the teacher who I could only faintly remember became more obscure, only their voice remained ringing all around the place.

"Yet you see kids, there's another way to fight back. It's not entirely a weakness but just a way to expose our identities if you fought one and didn't know their power,"

Fear struck me.

'I'm going to die...'

My breathing became ragged as my complexion turned for the worse. The Nightmare, Hunger, feel even more fascinated watching me finally coming to a normal reaction as to how humans were supposed to react.

"Very hungry...!"

Hunger let out a low growl and tried to end my life on that very day before I got freed from my position.

Slash—!

The flesh-like hand grasping my frail body was cut in half, leaving me falling and bumping my head to the ground.

Thud—!

Before even losing consciousness, my gaze fell on the group of people who entered the room and stopped the devil from finishing its last feast. Draped in all black, the group of people clashed with The Nightmare, Hunger.

I couldn't witness the start of the fight because the last thing I knew, I closed my eyes and lost consciousness.

...

"..."

Opening his eyes, a lone man finds himself staring at the ceiling wall of his room. The side of his eye was swollen due to the endless stream of tears that came down from it. His arm placed just right above his eye returned to its rightful position on the side of his body as he remained quiet.

"It's the same nightmare again..."

Wiping the tears on the side of his face, the man stood up from his bed to accept another day of the desolate world he lived in.

He went to the bathroom to wash himself. Once he was done, he got his school uniform into his wardrobe and attire himself before preparing some breakfast.

Bleakly looking at the cup of rice on his front and a shrimp using chopsticks, he finished his food.

With a polo as his inner and the black navy blue as an outer, his ironed black pants, and polished black shoes, the man looked at himself in the mirror.

Pale as ever, the man had a sharp face and features of an above-average individual. His deep, penetrating hazel eyes were devoid of emotion and emitted a silent menacing aura. His raven-black hair that complemented his pale skin appeared to share his threatening mood.

Arranging himself, the lone man grabbed the name tag that had just been placed on the table in front of the mirror and put it right near his chest.

/Cesar Sparrow/

After seeing himself cleanly dressed, the man, Cesar Sparrow left his room to attend the important event for today.

It was finally time to congratulate his seniors for graduating which also marked the day when the previous year would become the next seniors.