.
Dreadhorse Chapter 31
.
**Mara’s Vigil**
Mara stood at the edge of the deserted hospital courtyard, her breath visible in the cold, heavy air. The sky above mirrored the turmoil inside her—a swirling vortex of dark clouds that seemed to pulse with the chaos unfolding on the beach. She had taken refuge here days ago, seeking shelter from a world unraveling around her, but the recent events had drawn her back out into the tempest.
As night fell, the eerie silence of the hospital grounds was shattered by distant thunder and the occasional crack of lightning. Mara watched anxiously as the light from the beach grew brighter, casting long, distorted shadows from the skeletal remains of overturned benches and broken pathways. She knew something was coming—something unnatural and terrifying.
Whispers of the storm had reached her ears long before she knew it firsthand. Tales of the burning skeletal horse and the relentless robot had spread through the scattered survivors, each story more horrifying than the last. Mara, a former electrical engineer, had tried to make sense of the chaos, using her skills to rig makeshift defenses and communicate with others through improvised radio equipment. But tonight, she felt powerless, stranded between the remnants of human ingenuity and the encroaching supernatural dread.
Her friend, Eli, had vanished two nights prior, caught in the crossfire between Dred’s desperate struggle and the ghostly apparition of Ellist. Mara had searched tirelessly, combing the shoreline and the surrounding forests, but found only traces of destruction and the lingering scent of burning. The thought of Eli, lost to the madness, gnawed at her resolve, yet she couldn’t abandon hope.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. Through the dim light, she saw figures approaching—survivors like herself, drawn together by fate and fear. Among them was an elderly man, his face etched with worry, carrying a worn backpack. His name was Jonas, a former librarian who had become the group’s reluctant leader. His presence brought a semblance of order to the disheveled assembly, and Mara found herself relying on his calm demeanor amidst the storm’s fury.
As the group settled near the hospital’s ancient fountain, Mara took her place by the improvised communication hub she had constructed. Her fingers deftly adjusted the makeshift antennas, trying to tap into any available signals for news or rescue. The rhythmic pounding of hooves on water reached their ears again, closer this time, sending shivers down her spine. The description matched the monstrous horse—its fiery visage a portent of doom.
Jonas approached her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Anything, Mara?”
She shook her head, eyes fixed on the horizon where darkness and light battled for dominance. “Nothing yet. But we need to prepare. If that thing is a harbinger, there might be more to come.”
Mara nodded, her mind racing through possible defenses. They had limited resources—mostly salvaged metal, old blankets, and whatever they could find in the ruins. She glanced around, spotting a few survivors armed with makeshift weapons, their faces determined despite the fear lurking in their eyes.
As the first echoes of the horse’s approach resonated through the air, the group tensed, ready to defend their fragile sanctuary. Mara’s heart pounded, not just from fear, but from a deep-seated determination. She had lost Eli, but she couldn’t let others share his fate. Drawing on her dwindling reserves of strength, she began coordinating their defenses, her technical expertise turning chaos into a semblance of strategy.
The night grew darker, the storm intensifying as the skeletal horse and the silence it carried closed in around them. Mara stood as a beacon of resilience, a supporting thread in the tapestry of survival. She didn’t seek glory or recognition—just the hope that, together, they could weather the darkness and find a path back to the light.
As the first wave of the supernatural assault broke upon their makeshift defenses, Mara held her ground, her spirit unbroken. In that moment, she realized that even as a background character in someone else’s story, her actions could make all the difference between despair and the faint glimmer of hope that still lingered in the night.