Capítulo 167: Chapter 167
The world had changed. No one was sure when it had all started, but the news reports painted a horrifying picture. It was happening everywhere. People would wake up, and the lights were out. Not just a local power outage, but whole neighborhoods, whole cities. The sky would go dark, the streets empty, and everyone would wait, unsure if it was some technical glitch or something more sinister. Then, after hours—sometimes days—the power would return. But not everyone would come back.
People vanished. Without a trace. Homes empty. No bodies, no signs of struggle, no clues. They were gone, just like that. Some people had tried to stay inside, locked in with candles or small fires, hoping they'd avoid whatever caused the disappearance. But when the power came back on, they too were nowhere to be found.
It wasn't just one place, one country, or one continent. The blackouts hit everywhere. It was as if some force had decided that half of the world's population should be erased. And for the people who remained, the terror of never knowing if they'd be next had only just begun.
In the midst of all this, Adam was left to fend for himself. He had no family anymore, no friends, just the cold wind and the remnants of a civilization that had crumbled overnight. He kept moving, staying outside as much as he could, unable to trust the safety of the darkened buildings. The fires were his only source of light, his only source of warmth. The flames in the bonfires people made flickered like the last remnants of hope in a dying world.
The air was thick with uncertainty, and there was no place left to hide. It had been months since the last blackout, months since the first reports of missing people. Adam had seen the news, but it was all the same. News anchors sitting behind their desks, trying to appear calm, as if that could somehow lessen the horror of what was happening. The blackouts had spread across the globe. Cities that were once alive with the hum of machinery and electricity had become graveyards, each empty building a monument to those lost.
The government had tried to impose a curfew, but there was no point. The missing were already beyond their reach. The streets were bare. What remained of the world was now populated by those who had decided to stay outside, away from the very buildings that could turn on them at any moment. They lit their own fires, used old wood for heat, and made do with what little they had. There were no grocery stores, no gas stations to refuel. Only open fields, empty houses, and the occasional gathering of people trying to survive.
Adam had heard the rumors. Some people thought it was the work of aliens, others thought it was a government experiment gone wrong, and there were those who believed it was punishment for mankind's sins. But the truth was no one knew. No one could explain why it was happening. And no one could stop it.
On the sixth month of the blackouts, Adam sat by a fire in an abandoned park. The orange glow flickered against the darkness that stretched out around him. His hands were cracked from the cold, his breath visible in the air. He stared at the flames, lost in thought. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of screaming echoed through the wind, distant but sharp. He shivered, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders.
It had become a routine. He would wake up, check the perimeter, gather firewood, and keep his eyes on the horizon. The world had become a place where survival was all that mattered. The fear of the blackouts, the unknown, gnawed at him every time the power went out. It had been almost a week since the last blackout, but that didn't mean it wouldn't come again.
Tonight, there was something different. Adam could feel it in the air, in the way the wind had changed. The chill seemed to bite deeper. He glanced up at the sky, which was thick with clouds, no stars visible. The darkness felt heavier than usual, almost as if something was watching, waiting.
A crackling noise from behind him broke his concentration. He turned quickly, his heart racing. His eyes searched the empty park, but there was nothing there. Just the wind, rustling through the trees. He breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing his face. The paranoia was getting to him. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. The constant tension, the fear that maybe, just maybe, tonight would be the night that the blackouts came back, and he would disappear.
Suddenly, the wind stopped. Dead quiet. The fire crackled loudly in the silence, but that was all. No birds, no rustling leaves. Nothing.
Adam's pulse quickened. He glanced around, looking for any sign of movement, but all he saw was the dark, empty park. A low, guttural sound reached his ears—like a growl. It was faint but clear enough to send a shiver down his spine.
He grabbed the nearest stick, his grip tight. "Who's there?" His voice was hoarse, unsure if he was talking to the wind or to whatever else might be lurking in the dark.
There was no answer. Just the same eerie silence. He took a step forward, his breath coming out in sharp puffs.
Then, the ground beneath him trembled. It wasn't like an earthquake. It felt more like something was pressing against the earth from below, as though the very ground was shifting beneath his feet. His heart pounded in his chest. The sound of whispers filled the air now—soft and unintelligible, just on the edge of hearing.
He spun around, trying to pinpoint where the whispers were coming from, but the park was still.
That's when he saw it.
A figure, standing far away near the edge of the park, just beyond the trees. It wasn't a person. It was too tall, too thin. It stood still, unmoving, staring in his direction. Adam's body froze. The figure made no sound, did not even twitch.
He wanted to run. To turn and flee. But his legs wouldn't obey. He was rooted to the spot, trapped in the gaze of something ancient, something that shouldn't exist. The whispers grew louder, now more distinct, like voices from the depths of his own mind.
"Adam…" one of the voices rasped, the sound echoing around him. "You're next."
The fire flickered, the flames snapping as if something had just passed through them. Adam's pulse raced. He took a step back, the ground shaking once more, harder this time. His thoughts were clouded with terror, his mind screaming to get away. But the figure had already started to move. It took a slow, deliberate step forward.
Adam broke free from his paralysis and bolted, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He could hear the whispers behind him, closer now, as if the ground itself was following him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he dashed toward the main road, the only place where people might still be.
But when he reached it, the street was empty. No cars, no lights. Nothing but an endless stretch of asphalt and the wind blowing through the ruins of the world.
The air felt different now. Cold. Suffocating. Adam stumbled to a halt, spinning around to look behind him. There was nothing. No figure. No movement. Just the same eerie silence that had been following him.
He turned back toward the street and stopped in his tracks. There, in the middle of the road, stood another figure. Taller than the first. Too tall. It was cloaked in blackness, its form indistinct, a twisted shape that made Adam's stomach churn. And then, without warning, it stepped forward. The ground cracked beneath it, as if it were stepping on the very earth itself.
Adam didn't have time to scream.
His heart stopped. His body froze. And then, everything around him went dark. The fire, the street, the wind—all of it faded into nothingness.
When the power returned, the street was empty.
The world would never know what had happened to Adam.
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