Annoying like a Curse

Lukas took in the darkness around him as he called to the monsters that were always near him—creatures that embodied the world of horror. A deep, heavy growl sounded from the shadows of the streets as he approached the house. The first monsters were silent and nimble. Shadowy, distorted figures that seemed to be made of air itself, their eyes glowing only in the darkness.

"Go get them," Lukas murmured, a cold smile on his lips.

His orders were carried out immediately. A slinking, crawling creature crept through the open window, which had been pushed aside, and disappeared inside the house. It moved at a speed invisible to human sight, but the dirt beneath the creature's feet and the sound of its silent claws betrayed its presence. The monsters had no flaws in their ability to inspire fear.

The first victim was the little boy sitting alone in his room, too small to understand what was happening. The monster crawled along his feet, crept onto the bed, and sank its sharp teeth into the child's soft neck. No scream, no resistance. Only a soft, stifled gurgle and the sensation of life escaping the body like air from a burst balloon.

No sooner had it dispatched the first child than the monster spread, leaving a trail of doom behind it. The mother heard the sound, but she didn't know what it was. A faint rustling? Perhaps an animal outside? But it was too late. Suddenly, the air in her room was heavy, and when she turned around, all she saw was the outline of a dark figure moving with uncanny speed.

The father, in another room, also heard the noise and immediately pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "Let's set the alarm," he said in a shaky voice. But as he typed in the alarm code, he found the device's screen no longer responding.

"The system is deactivated," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

Then he heard the crunch—a long, metallic sound, as if something were drilling through the floor. Suddenly, he felt a cold breath on his neck, and as he turned, he encountered the eyes of another monster, staring at him from the darkness.

"No!" he screamed, but the creature was too fast. It grabbed him with incredible strength, breaking his neck in a single, brutal movement. Pain shot through his body before he sank into the darkness.

The monster dropped its body to the ground, and the smell of blood and decay filled the air. Lukas stood in the background now, a calm observer of the destruction his creatures wreaked. They were like puppets he moved, and they followed his commands with a devotion that defined their very existence.

When the last resistance had been removed from the house, Lukas made the monster disappear into the shadows with a wave of his hand. He stepped out of the shadows and approached the living room, which was now descending into chaos. It was the calm before the storm, and Lukas savored every bitter detail. The world he created with his own hands was his playground, and he still had much to do.

He looked around, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"It's done," he said, the words cold and empty. "On to the next one."

Then he set off again into the darkness, where the next house, the next family, were already waiting for him.

The moon shone pale, flickering through the clouds as Lukas slowly crept into the shadow of an old house. The darkness seemed to envelop him, like a second skin. He was still, almost silent, as he crept to the window. The curtains fluttered slightly as the wind touched them, but the sound was barely audible.

Inside, the house was shrouded in an eerie silence. No sound, no life. But that was only a false impression. Lukas knew what was coming. He was in control.

His eyes flashed as he quietly opened the door. The first monster was there, an apparition of pure darkness that devoured the walls. It slithered across the room, like a tangled, black mass that stretched along the corners of the room. The air was thick and humid, the walls seemed to warp. And then he heard it. A faint rustling. Something creeping through the house, like the breath of an animal searching for prey.

He followed the sound, discreetly and with an almost eerie calm. The first glimpse of the child was like a scene from a nightmare—the boy, alone in his room, unconscious and innocent. Lukas let it happen, let the monster pierce the shadows and pounce on the small body with a coldness that was almost tangible.

The walls seemed to grow tighter with each second as the child remained motionless, sleep slipping away into the dark silence.

Lukas quietly closed the door behind him as he reached the next room. No panic, no escape. It was as if time were crushing itself. The next moment came as the father climbed the stairs, unaware that his last step would be the second-to-last.

The monsters, a swarm of twisted creatures, crawled from the corners of the house, ever closer, ever closer. The walls creaked as they advanced out of the darkness. The father, in his attempt to set an alarm, heard only the familiar click of buttons on his phone before the screen flickered and then... disappeared.

Lukas stepped out of the shadows. "Too late," he murmured barely audibly, as the monster, in a single movement, grabbed the man and drained the life from his eyes.

The mother, feeling an eerie sense of unease, ran into the hallway. Her eyes met the eerie image of her husband lying lifeless on the floor. Another crack, another rustle, and then... silence. Nothing but silence.

Lukas stood motionless as darkness engulfed the rooms. There was a faint, almost oppressive sense of anticipation in the air. In the silence, one could hear the rustling of the monsters as they moved through the room, not to hunt—rather, to complete the inevitable.

The final moment was little more than a whisper as the mother tried to flee, her steps hurried and panicked. But Lukas already knew. Her flight was as futile as the hope of escaping the moment.

The last breath, the last twitch of her body—she felt it before the darkness swallowed her whole.

Lukas stepped out of the shadows and looked at the lifeless bodies. The monsters had long since disappeared, back into the darkness from whence they came. But for Lukas, the day was not over. The hunger was still there, deep within him, as he slowly retreated into the night. The wind carried the echo of something that would linger for a long time.

Lukas let the darkness of night settle around him as he walked slowly through the garden, shrouded in the fading moonlight. The lawn was covered in a fine mist that coated the ground like a creeping poison. In the distance, the sounds of the city were barely audible, as if the house itself lay in another dimension, cut off from everything that existed beyond its walls.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cool, thick air fill his lungs. The taste of death and power still lingered on his tongue. It was an intoxicating feeling he couldn't explain, a hunger that would never be sated. As he climbed into the wagon, he pulled his hood further over his face, concealing his identity even more from the world.

But in that moment, the world itself, which seemed so alien and hostile to him, seemed to bow down. He was the Lord of the Darkness, and in this silence, he was the only one who mattered.

The car began to move, the engine roaring and echoing through the empty streets. Every kilometer he traveled increased the feeling of unstoppability that coursed through him. He was able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. No one could stop him. The people who hunted him had long since lost their meaning.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he struck again.

***

Back home, he got out of the car and walked with calm, almost mechanical steps to his door. It was quiet inside, and the cold draft that drifted through the cracks made him stare into space for a moment.

His hands trembled only slightly as he closed the door behind him and then looked around the room without haste. Everything was silent, nothing moved, but deep within him simmered the urge for more. He was hungry, for chaos, for destruction.

His monsters, invisible but ever-present, waited in the shadows. Lukas knew they were always lurking for the moment they were needed—and that moment would come soon. He could feel it.

He walked slowly into his study, surrounded by darkness. The only source of light was the faint glow of a television set standing in a corner. The screen flickered, showing images of the murders he had committed—the families he had wiped out. A distorted image of his own cruelty. But he felt nothing. No pity, no remorse. Only a deep sense of satisfaction.

"There must be more," he murmured to himself, scanning the screen as if searching for the next target. It was as if the screen was daring him to continue. And he knew he would.

His gaze fell on the photograph of a man on the wall. An old

An acquaintance. An enemy. But Lukas knew this man was just another obstacle. Thoughts of him were like dust in the wind, no longer important. Soon he, too, would disappear, like everyone else. Soon there would be no one left of him.

A cold smile played on Lukas's lips as he turned and left the study. The world outside was full of people who didn't yet know they had no future.

But for Lukas, this was only the beginning.

Lukas's footsteps echoed through the empty house as he moved through the rooms. The darkness seemed to adapt to him, as if it were a part of him, an extension of himself. The air was stifling and heavy, as if it stored all the horrors of past deeds.

His hand slid over the cold of the wall as he walked down the hallway, the faint creaking of the house following him like a silent companion. Every room seemed pervaded by silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the street. But Lukas's mind was completely calm. The turmoil of the outside world no longer interested him. All that mattered was what he would do next.

He was in control.

His thoughts wandered back to the last victims he had wiped out. The screams, the fear in his victims' eyes—he had enjoyed them all. But it wasn't enough. The darkness that lived within him demanded more. There was no turning back, no end. Only the quest for more power, for more control.

Lukas stepped into the living room and paused for a moment. There hung the picture of his family, still untouched by all he had done. But that wasn't what captivated him. It was the empty space, pervaded by a constant threat. And he knew it wouldn't be long before this room, too, was filled with the horrors he could unleash.

His gaze fell on the phone. It was still in his hand when he had picked it up. The moment he would detach himself from the world again. But before he picked it up again, he decided to do something else. Something that would draw him even further into the darkness. Something that would take the thrill of hunting and destruction to a new level.

He reached for one of the knives lying nearby and let his fingers play with the blade. The cold steel felt like an extension of his own body, as if with every cut and every movement he would gain more power.

It was no coincidence that he held the knife in his hand. It wasn't just a tool. It was the symbol of his control, his victory over the world and the people he considered pawns in an endless game. A game he would never lose.

With the blade in his hand, he climbed the stairs again, which stretched out before him like the aisle of a cathedral. His footsteps, firm and determined, broke the silence that surrounded the room. And with every step he took, he knew he was moving further into the darkness. The darkness he had created, the darkness he controlled.

The first door he opened was that of one of the children's bedrooms. It was quiet here. Too quiet. The child's gentle breathing seemed to be the only sound filling the room. But Lukas knew this moment wouldn't last long.

He stepped cautiously into the room, the blade in his hand gleaming in the faint light of the night. It was as if the darkness itself greeted him, showing him the way. Without a word, he set to work, the child, still in an innocent sleep, like a puppet in his hands.

It was the game of fear that always took his breath away. The thrill, the feeling of power that accompanied him in every moment. And when the blade broke through the child's skin, it was like the culmination of a dream that seemed never to end.

But he knew that wasn't enough. There was more, more to do. More sacrifices. More horror. And the world was yet to learn.

He quietly closed the door behind him and made his way to the next room. The cold steel in his hand felt even stronger now, knowing that the next step would take him even further from everything he had once known.

Every movement, every twitch of the blade, the gentle rush of air in the darkness as he continued on—everything was a melody of fear, pain, and pleasure that only he could hear.

And he knew it was far from enough.

Lukas continued to creep through the halls of the house, succumbing to the twilight of night. Every step was controlled, every breath was calm, as if in complete harmony with the darkness around him. The silence was like a delicate blanket wrapping itself around him, enveloping him in a world of absolute control.

The blade in his hand gleamed deceptively in the dim light that filtered through the windows. It was like a symbol of his rule, his tool of destruction. It was no coincidence that he held the knife now. It was the final proof that he shaped the world according to his rules—and that there was no one who could oppose him.

He opened the next door, which led to one of the other children's rooms. This time he heard the quiet but regular breathing of two children sleeping next to each other in their beds. Their faces were peaceful, innocent. But that only made it all the more alluring. There was nothing more poignant than the image of innocence that he could erase.

He entered, and the room seemed to swallow him whole as the cold wind blew through the open window. The children slept soundly, their breathing steady. They didn't notice Lukas approaching. He carefully sat down next to the bed, listening to the sound of silence, and slowly let the blade slide in his hand.

In a movement as quick and precise as lightning, he grabbed the first child, held it tight, and placed the knife at its throat. The panic that flared in the child's eyes was like music to Lukas's ears. But he wasn't here to torment. No, he was here to finish what he had started. The blade sliced ​​through the child's skin like butter, without making a sound.

The other child woke the moment the blood began to flow. It stared at Lukas with wide, horrified eyes, and in a single moment of despair, it tried to scream. But it was too late. The blade, which Lukas brought across the other child with a movement too quick for the eye to see, sealed the fate of the bedroom.

As both children lay motionless in their beds, the silence descending upon them once more, Lukas wiped the blade. Without hesitation, he stepped back and quietly let the door close. Another victim was extinguished, another illusion of safety shattered.

He didn't feel tired, not exhausted. On the contrary, it was an intoxicating sense of control that took hold of him as he moved on. The next room was already waiting for him, and he knew he would never get enough. Each murder, each victim was just another step in his own self-created darkness.

But as he descended the stairs, he realized there was something else that particularly appealed to him this evening. Something that promised even more thrills. He hadn't touched the parents yet, and the thought of it made him smile—a cold, cruel smile.

He'd long since had them all in his sights. And now, as the evening stretched on and the clock ticked into the early hours, he knew he had to prepare for the final step. The parents would experience the true terror he had to offer. For he had much more up his sleeve—and he knew exactly how to trap them.

In the darkness, he was the master, the king of his own domain.

The rain began to drum softly on the roof as Lukas crept further through the house, through the flickering glow of the streetlights. Drops pattered against the window, dancing in a silent melody that created only the appearance of calm. But in Lukas's heart, there was another silence—one so deep it stifled the air around him.

He moved like a shadow, almost invisible in the darkness that mingled with the night. The rain was his companion, his melody, his silent audience. The drops pattered against the window, breaking the silence like a constant reminder that the world outside continued to turn. But here, in this moment, there was only him.

He stepped into the next room. The dim light from the streetlamp filtered through the curtains, sending refracted rays of light to the floor. The children who had slept peacefully there an hour earlier were now dead. Their bodies were rigid in the cool stillness of the rain. The room was silent, but not calm. It was heavy—heavy with the darkness that Lukas placed in each of his victims.

Slowly, he turned, closing the door behind him with a soft click, as if cutting off the outside world to exist entirely within his own. The rain outside changed nothing for him. The wind that whipped through the house made the curtains twitch, but the air was now cool and heavy as he moved on.

It was almost too easy. The crawling pace, the sense of unstoppability, in his bones. As he descended the next flight of stairs, it was as if darkness itself opened up to him. The rain lashed against the windows, but it was the silence in the house that was louder—it roared in his head and made him sink into himself.

He pushed the

The door to the next room opened. Here, in this room, were the parents. The people who still believed their children were safe. The house lights flickered as the rain beat against the glass, and the world outside seemed to stand still for a moment.

The parents sat at the table, a cup of coffee between them, as if the moment had been peaceful, as if nothing sinister lurked outside. But it was. The silence. Absolute silence. The mother and father looked up when they heard the door, but they didn't recognize the figure in the doorway.

Lukas stood there, motionless. The blade in his hand was still smeared with blood, but it gleamed coldly in the light. His eyes were like empty abysses where nothing lived anymore. And then, very calmly, almost gently, he said:

"It's time."

The mother and father rose when they heard the ominous calm in his voice. But it was too late. Lukas was faster, his movements fluid and relentless. One step, and the blade was in the air. The rain outside seemed to stop as he struck. It wasn't loud, not brutal—it was the end of everything, quiet and gentle like the rain now pattering against the window.

As they fell, the room was left with an eerie stillness as the rain grew heavier. The wind howled through the cracks of the house, but the room remained silent, caught in the moment of the unspeakable.

Lukas stood in the doorway, his hand steady, the blade in his hand still stained with blood. The rain outside was like a curtain of water, hiding everything that had happened in that moment. The world kept turning, but in this house, on this night, the darkness was unstoppable. And Lukas, the silent ruler of that darkness, set out to find the next victim.

The rain had turned into a storm. Lightning flashed in the sky, and the wind howled, as if it wanted to break the silence that now held the house in its icy grip. Lukas stepped out into the night, the damp air clinging to his skin, but he felt nothing. The world outside was as cold and merciless as the darkness he carried within.

With every step through the deserted street, the rain sounded like a soft whisper in his ears. A sound that sank into the depths of his soul without leaving a trace. Everything that night was a perfect backdrop for what he was planning. The people who thought they were safe in their homes, the cursed silence of the night—they didn't know he was coming. That he was here, ever closer.