The sharp chime of the television cut through the cozy silence of the kitchen, its sudden intrusion drawing Evelyn Blake’s attention as she pulled a tray of red velvet scones from the oven. The warm scent of vanilla and cocoa wafted through the air, mingling with the crisp aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Setting down her oven mitts, she glanced at the screen mounted on the wall, her brow furrowing at the words flashing in bold across the bottom:


    BREAKING NEWS: ANOTHER CHILD FOUND DEAD NEAR GREAT OAKS WALKING TRAIL.


    A middle-aged reporter, his face drawn with concern, spoke with a gravity that made her chest tighten. “Authorities have confirmed the discovery of another body in the wooded area near Great Oaks. This marks the fifth child found in the past month across three states. Police urge parents to remain vigilant—”


    Evelyn muted the television, staring at the screen with a growing sense of unease. Her stomach twisted as the broadcast flashed images of the previous victims—smiling faces now reduced to tragic memories. The victims were all around her daughter’s age and the killings were getting closer. Her grip tightened on the counter’s edge as she forced herself to take a slow breath.


    She had known this day would come. She had prepared for it from the moment her daughter was born. And now, as she gazed up the staircase toward her daughter''s room, she knew—without a shadow of a doubt—that time had run out.


    ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


    A blackened moon hung low in the sky, casting a sickly glow over the burning city. Clouds churned in the heavens, twisting and writhing as if alive. Screams filled the air, shrill and desperate, swallowed by the roar of flames licking hungrily at buildings. Smoke, thick and acrid, curled into the night, mingling with the coppery scent of blood and the stench of charred flesh.


    People ran, their figures mere shadows against the inferno, but there was no escape. Dark creatures—hulking, twisted forms with eyes like molten embers—moved through the streets, cutting down anything that dared to flee. Limbs littered the cobblestones. The rivers ran red.


    Lightning split the sky, illuminating the chaos for a brief, blinding moment. And there, standing amid the carnage, was a lone figure.


    A woman.


    A wicked smirk played at her red lips, her golden eyes blazing with hatred and something far more sinister. She lifted her chin, reveling in the destruction surrounding her.


    “I’m coming for you, little moon.”


    Artemis jolted awake, breath ragged, heart hammering against her ribs. The ceiling above her spun in dizzying swirls, shadows lingering in the corners of her vision. Her sheets clung to her damp skin, soaked with sweat. She swallowed hard, blinking away the blur of sleep, but the images remained burned into her mind.


    The fire. The screams. The woman’s voice like a blade against her throat.


    She reached instinctively for the silver crescent moon pendant hanging around her neck, her fingers tightening around it as she whispered to herself, “It was just a dream. Just a dream.”


    Artemis slowly sat up, the darkness of her bedroom pressing in around her. It had been a while since she last saw the apocalyptic landscape in her nightmares. And yet, here it was again—stronger, clearer, more terrifying than ever.


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    Her hand slowly moved to the dark crescent-shaped birthmark on the left side of her chest. It burned. It always burned after the dream.


    The pale gray morning light began to seep through the curtains, casting long shadows across her room. Her alarm clock blinked 5:30 AM—too early for school, but she doubted she’d get any more rest.


    With a groan, she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cool against her bare feet as she padded toward the mirror. She studied her reflection, taking in the lingering traces of fear in her moon-colored eyes. Her usual shaggy, unkempt wavy black hair stuck to her forehead, still damp with sweat.


    A heavy sigh left her lips as she turned toward the bathroom, twisting the knobs of the shower. As the scalding water cascaded over her, she let the heat wash away the remnants of sleep, of fear, of questions she couldn’t yet answer.


    After washing up, she got dressed in one of her favorite outfits- a black hooded sweatshirt, ripped black jeans, a dark purple belt with a silver, crescent moon buckle that hung off her waist, black lace fingerless gloves, dark purple beanie, a black choker with a silver crescent moon and black combat boots-then looked at herself in the mirror one last time. Happy with her appearance, she grabbed her black messenger bag and headed downstairs.


    The scent of coffee greeted her as she entered the kitchen, mixing with the faint sweetness of syrup. She could hear her little half-sister Ruby giggling between bites of pancakes, likely watching her favorite cartoon on her tablet. Her mother sat at the kitchen table, her hazel eyes fixed on the TV, a cup of coffee cradled between her hands. Across from her, Artemis’s older step-sister, Erin, scrolled through her phone, her deep blue eyes flicking up only briefly to acknowledge her presence.


    “Looks like the birthday girl is actually up early for once,” Erin teased, tucking a strand of turquoise-dyed hair behind her ear. “That’s a miracle in itself.”


    Artemis barely managed a half-hearted smile as she plopped into the seat beside her. “Guess I forgot to sleep in.”


    Evelyn looked up then, her gaze softer than usual. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small black box wrapped with a silver ribbon. “Your stepfather and I have something for you later, but… this one is from your father.”


    The air seemed to thin around her. The room faded into the background as Artemis stared at the box. She didn’t move to touch it.


    Her father.


    A man she had never met. A man who had been absent from her life for thirteen years.


    “I don’t want it.” The words left her lips before she could stop them.


    Her mother sighed, her fingers tightening around her coffee cup. “Artemis…”


    “If he cared, he would have been here.” Her voice was sharper than she intended, but the resentment had been festering for too long. “Where was he when we were struggling? Where was he when we had to move over and over again? Where was he when you cried at night?”


    Silence.


    Evelyn’s gaze lowered, the weight of unspoken truths pressing between them. Even Ruby, oblivious to most things, had stopped singing, watching the tension unfold with wide, innocent eyes.


    Erin moved fast and quickly scooped Ruby up, whisking her away from the situation.“Alright little wild fire, let''s get you cleaned up.” She said cheerfully, leaving the two in silence.


    Artemis clenched her fists, her black-painted nails digging into her palms. She wanted to take the words back. She hated the look on her mother’s face. But the anger—the hurt—refused to let go.


    Finally, Evelyn spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “He had no choice.”


    Artemis scoffed. “There’s always a choice.”


    Another beat of silence. Then, softly, “You’ll understand soon.”


    Something in the way she said it sent a chill down Artemis’s spine.


    She exhaled sharply, snatching the box and shoving it into her messenger bag. “I’ll open it later.”


    Evelyn’s smile returned, but the sadness lingered in her eyes. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”


    Artemis gave a half-hearted nod and grabbed another scone before heading for the door.


    Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup, staring at its content as she murmured under her breath, “I need to call.”