Una noche aterradora: La Cruz

Chapter 15

Ryota was happily talking to Rikku during lunchtime, telling her everything he had achieved so far. His enthusiasm was contagious as he explained how he had evolved physically and mentally.

—I feel like I have more control over my emotions, aunt, and... I think I'm finally understanding how the sixth works —he said, almost incredulously, as he let out a laugh that filled the little moment with shared joy.

Rikku smiled on the other end of the line, listening attentively to her nephew.

—I'm so proud of you, Ryota. I knew all that effort would pay off —she replied tenderly, though a shadow of concern lingered behind her words.

They talked and laughed for a while longer, but Kento's voice interrupted the conversation from the background.

—Come on, Ryota, time to train.

—Alright. Well, aunt, I'll call you tomorrow. Take care —Ryota said, hurriedly saying goodbye.

—See you, my boy. Train hard and stay strong —Rikku replied with a smile no one could see.

The call ended, and with it, Rikku's smile disappeared. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to talk to Ryota, but something much darker weighed on her. On the television, the news channel Focus 24/7 continued reporting the nightly chaos caused by the vampires.

The images broadcasted on the emergency screens were desolate. The most underprivileged districts lived under constant tension, a perpetual state of alert that intensified as the sun set. In the streets, beggars dragged themselves toward dumpsters, seeking refuge inside them, or disappeared into the sewers, risking death in their desperate search for safety. In the slums, families worked feverishly, nailing makeshift boards over doors and windows, aware that these efforts were little more than a psychological placebo. Wood, locks, and piled furniture were no match for the brutal and supernatural strength of the vampires.

Rikku watched these scenes with a frown as the images from the news projected tales of horror with cold objectivity. The mortality rate was alarming. According to reports, almost 90% of the homeless didn't survive the night. Those monsters were ruthless in their selection, guided by an eerily calculated instinct: they attacked the young first, as the richness and purity of their blood offered greater sustenance. Children fell quickly, their screams smothered by the indifference of the darkness. Then, parents were subjected to the psychological torture of witnessing their children being devoured before their eyes, before becoming the next feast themselves. It was a macabre and ruthless spectacle, a horror routine repeated night after night.

But the nightmare didn't end with the dawn. With the first light, chaos continued in another form. In the poor districts, protests sprang up as a desperate cry for survival. Entire groups of people, enraged and desperate, gathered in front of local authorities' offices, demanding real protective measures, access to food, medicine, and safer shelters. Governments, overwhelmed with problems, offered vague responses and insufficient measures.

Desperate families tried to escape to the safer districts, those where there was much more security. However, those areas had become elitist fortresses, inaccessible to most. The exorbitant costs and restrictive laws were insurmountable obstacles for the poor, who found themselves condemned to remain trapped in a reality that brought them, every night, to the brink of extinction.

Rikku closed her eyes as the horror chronicle continued to play on the TV. Her mind tried to block out the reporters' voices, but the images remained, engraved on her retina. It was impossible to ignore how the entire world had turned into a silent battlefield, where humanity wasn't fighting for victory but for mere survival.

Every night was a lost battle for those who lived on the margins of society. The numbers grew uncontrollably, the names and faces of the dead becoming statistics that no longer impacted anyone except those directly affected.