Una noche aterradora: La Cruz

Chapter 1

It was 8:30 in the morning. The golden light of dawn began to seep through the slats of the blinds in Ryota's room. The soft light gently illuminated a space that reflected the life of its young occupant: organized chaos. Clothes scattered everywhere, books stacked precariously, and a practice sword resting in a corner next to a worn-out backpack. In the center of this disorder, Ryota slept deeply, trapped in the comfort of sheets that seemed unwilling to release him.
The sharp sound of birds chirping wasn't enough to wake him. Neither was the constant ticking of the clock on the wall. However, a loud shout from the first floor boomed like thunder:
—¡RYOTAAAAAA!
It was Rikku, his aunt, a woman whose voice could rival any alarm. The roar startled Ryota out of his sleep. He quickly sat up, his heart pounding as he groggily searched for the source of that thunderous yell.
—What's wrong, Aunt Rikku?!—he asked, rubbing his eyes, still disoriented.
From downstairs, the response came, loaded with impatience:
—What's happening?! Look at the time!
Ryota turned his head towards the wall clock. His eyes widened as he saw the hands marking 8:35. The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water.
—Noooo! I'm going to be late!
He jumped out of bed clumsily, stumbling over a pile of clothes as he desperately searched for his uniform. Every garment seemed to hide in the chaos of his room. His shirt was wrinkled, and his tie was tangled with the earphones of his phone. After five agonizing minutes, he managed to get dressed, albeit sloppily, with his shoes in one hand and his backpack in the other.
As he dashed down the stairs, Rikku intercepted him at the door. With a swift motion, she grabbed his ear and pulled it forcefully.
—Where do you think you're going dressed like that?!
—To school! Where else?!—Ryota retorted, trying to free himself.
Rikku looked him up and down, shaking her head as she took in his appearance: the misbuttoned shirt and crooked tie. Her expression shifted from anger to a mix of concern and exasperation.
—And you plan to leave without breakfast?—she snapped.
Ryota tried to justify himself:
—he said as he broke free and ran towards the door.
Outside, he turned around and, with a smile, shouted:
—I love you, Aunt Rikku! I'll be back soon!
Rikku's face turned red with frustration as she watched Ryota disappear down the street.
—¡RYOTAAAAAA! —she shouted, though she knew the boy was already out of reach.
The school was 15 minutes away on foot, but Ryota, relying on his stamina and speed, decided to run and make it in 10. The city in the morning was immersed in its usual chaos: crowded streets, hurried people, and vehicles honking incessantly. Ryota dodged pedestrians and bicycles with swift movements, like a fish swimming against the current.
When he noticed time was still against him, he decided to take a shortcut through the nearby mall. Upon entering, a security guard spotted him from a distance.
—No running in the mall!
—Sorry, I'm in a hurry! —Ryota shouted without stopping.
As he ran, something caught his attention: a row of televisions in an electronics store displaying a news broadcast. The images showed the victory of a member of The Cross, the organization that protected humanity from vampires.
"Breaking news: Captain Daiki of Squadron C-39 has defeated vampire Rikuya, classified as an A-level threat. This dangerous vampire was ambushed in a strategic operation. This afternoon, Captain Daiki will be awarded a medal of valor for his heroism."
Ryota smiled broadly and, without stopping, clapped in front of the screens.
—Amazing, Captain Daiki! You're a hero!
Suddenly, a gruff voice pulled him out of his moment of admiration.
—You... You're the son of Vlad II, aren't you? —asked a man staring at him with suspicion.
Ryota felt the world come to a halt. His heart pounded as he tried to process the question.
—I... I'm not...
Before he could answer, a nearby woman holding her child's hand began to scream:
—He's a vampire! He's a monster!
Panic spread like wildfire. People began screaming and running in all directions. Some men grabbed objects as improvised weapons, while others called mall security.
—Wait! I'm not a monster! —Ryota shouted, raising his hands in surrender.
But the situation escalated quickly. Security guards arrived armed, and to his horror, they also aimed at him.
—Don't move!
Ryota took a step back, frightened and unable to understand how everything had gone so wrong. When one of the guards cocked his weapon, Ryota's instincts took over. He ran towards a side door leading to the loading area, dodging gunshots that echoed around him.
The guards pursued him, blocking every exit. As he reached the loading bay, a bullet grazed his left arm. The pain was sharp but lasted only a few seconds. To the guards' horror, the wound closed quickly, regenerating before their eyes.
—I don't want to hurt you! Let me go! —Ryota pleaded.
The sight of his rapid healing only worsened the guards' fear. Ryota took advantage of their confusion to escape.
The guard, pale and sweating profusely, froze, paralyzed by an uncontrollable fear. His breathing was erratic, and his trembling hands fumbled to raise the radio and call for backup. His voice faltered, breaking under the weight of panic. Ryota, who had been watching every move with the precision of a calculating predator, saw his opportunity in that instant. His eyes gleamed with fierce intensity, and his body, trained to the limits of human capability, sprang into action.
With a speed that seemed to defy the laws of physics, Ryota moved, leaving behind a blurred trail that baffled the guard and plunged him into a state of bewilderment. He dashed down the emergency stairs to the mall's ground floor, where an alarming sight awaited him: a full deployment of security forces blocking every exit. Guards armed with automatic rifles surrounded him from all possible angles, their weapons aimed with surgical precision.
The moment froze. For an instant, silence reigned. Then, as if an invisible signal activated everything, a storm of bullets was unleashed in his direction. The gunfire roared like deafening thunder in the enclosed space, but for Ryota, each bullet seemed to move in slow motion. His body reacted instinctively, like a perfectly calibrated machine. He ducked, spun, and leaped with fluid, precise movements, dodging each bullet by mere millimeters. The guards shouted orders, bewildered by what they were witnessing. It was as if the man before them was not human but a living shadow they couldn't catch.
Running towards the main entrance, Ryota spotted an adversary who stood out among the rest: a burly, almost monstrous guard with a build seemingly designed to block even a moving truck. His eyes were cold and calculating, and in his hands, he held a reinforced baton that looked like a weapon from another time, ready to crush any attempt at resistance.
Ryota stopped abruptly, evaluating his options in a fraction of a second. He knew he had no time to hesitate. He took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline surge through his body. With an explosive motion, he propelled himself forward, sprinting straight towards the guard like a projectile launched with all his strength.
The guard raised his baton, attempting to intercept him, but Ryota was faster. Just a few meters away, he bent his knees and jumped, reaching an impossible height. In mid-air, he twisted his body with acrobatic precision, concentrating all his power into a single blow. His knee struck the guard's face directly, with a force that echoed throughout the large space. The giant let out a muffled grunt before collapsing like a fallen colossus, his body hitting the ground heavily.
Without pausing for even a second to look back, Ryota burst through the main entrance, breaking through the final barrier between him and freedom. He felt the cold night air brush against his face as he ran into the darkness, his heart pounding, not with fear, but with determination. Once again, he had outwitted those trying to capture him, but deep inside, he knew this battle was far from over.