Content Warning: This story contains themes of supernatural horror, nightmare dimensions, physical violence (beast killing, implied death), emotional distress (betrayal, heartbreak), alcohol use, perilous situations (falling daggers, near-death experiences), and mild language. It also includes a romantic subplot with themes of bonding and sacrifice. Reader discretion is advised.
Intro
Tom has never been lucky in love. He gave everything to Precious — money, time, his heart — and she repaid him by getting pregnant for another man. Now he sits alone in his room, whisky in hand, the TV flickering, the air conditioner blowing at max. He closes his eyes. And then he wakes up somewhere else. A desert street with no end. Neon lights flickering on empty buildings. A sky raining daggers. A beast with the face of a lion, leopard, and jaguar combined — gaining on him. And a girl. Blonde hair in a ponytail. Eyes as clear as glass. She has been running for a year. She does not know why. She only knows that if she stops, she dies. A message appears in green light: "Defeat the beast to stop the hail of daggers. Use the spear. You have one chance." Tom is not a hero. He is a heartbroken man who cannot even hold his whisky. But he has no choice. The beast is coming. The daggers are falling. And the girl is watching. Then the second message appears: "Make your choice." Save her — and she will be his. Walk away — and forget everything. Part 1 ends with Tom's decision. The spear is thrown. The beast falls. And the real nightmare is just beginning.
Author's Note:
I was writing this story on the 26th of May. I was almost done when I fell asleep and then I dreamed. It was weird — at first I had to be in the office that morning, but the dream took over me, and that was how I woke up writing The Silver Fang. Remember, in one of my posts titled Blueprint of a Writer, I talked about getting inspired by dreams. Well, The Silver Fang is one of them. So today I just had to complete The Spear. It was so long I had to cut it. Hopefully I can keep giving you more good stories to read. Thank you.
The Spear
Questions Without Answers
How could I be thinking of what I thought would be easy for me? How can love be this hard? How can having feelings for someone cause me to suffer? Those were the questions Tom kept asking himself, and they brought tears to his eyes. He had conquered the world, but he couldn't conquer love. Everyone he had fallen madly in love with had played him for a sucker.
He remembered Precious. He had loved her deeply and given her everything she asked for. No matter how ridiculous her demands were, he always delivered. Once, she told him she needed money to pay for the air she breathed, and he gave it to her without question. He had tried to make love to her, but she refused, saying she was pure and innocent. Tom agreed and promised to marry her.
Then he started seeing her laughing with another guy — a tall, dark, muscular man with three missing teeth in his upper row. When he asked her about it, she said he was just a friend. He let it go. But one day, he discovered she was pregnant for that same man. The pain hit him so hard that he was admitted to the hospital. The doctor warned him to calm down or he would burst his heart.
The Man Who Could Not Conquer Love
Tom is an average guy with an average height. He has no remarkable features, and he is the kind of guy you can forget the moment your eyes leave him. He keeps a low-cut haircut and always dresses like the guy next to you.
With a heavy heart, Tom sat in his well-furnished room, flicking through TV stations without really seeing anything. The air conditioner was blowing at full blast. A bottle of whisky stood beside him, and a half-empty glass rested in his left hand. Occasionally, he dropped the remote and stirred the drink with his index finger, licked it, and smacked his lips.
Soon the bottle reduced inch by inch. When it was half empty, his eyes began to glaze over. The glass felt heavy in his hand. His head grew heavier. He tried to stand up but fell back into the chair. Tired and unable to think clearly, he muttered to himself, “Let me just lay down a bit.” He dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and darkness took him.
The Desert Street
Tom woke up to the metallic smell of blood in the air. He sniffed again and his blood ran cold. The place reeked of rot — something that had died long ago but refused to stay dead.
He found himself standing in the middle of a strange desert street. Stores and commercial buildings lined both sides, glowing with neon lights in red, blue, green, and purple. The street stretched endlessly in both directions, disappearing into swirling mist.
"Where am I?" he whispered, turning slowly in a full circle.
Suddenly, a voice shouted from the west side of the street: "Run!"
A young woman burst into view, running desperately. When she reached him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him along. Tom followed reluctantly, jogging to keep up.
"Where are we?" he asked, breathing hard.
"I don’t know. Just keep running. If you stop, you’re dead."
"Why?" he asked her.
"I don't know. Just keep running," she replied, increasing her pace.
The Figure from the TV
Back in his room, he was sprawled out cold on his sofa. The stations started switching by themselves randomly and faster. Suddenly, it stopped on a station and then went blank. After a few minutes, there was a power outage in the flat, and a dark void appeared in front of the TV. A moment later, the power came back on and the TV turned on.
It was showing a young beautiful woman with blonde hair tied in a ponytail. She was wearing black pants and a top, with eyes as clear as glass, red painted lips, and red nails. She stepped out of the TV and crouched in front of Tom, who was lying on the sofa. She placed her thumb on his forehead and muttered, "Fight for me."
The Beast
Tom hurried to keep pace with the girl. He glanced behind them and his heart nearly stopped. The sky was raining daggers, and a hideous beast — with the combined face of a lion, leopard, and jaguar — was gaining on them fast.
"What is that thing behind us?" he asked the girl, now matching her pace. He could feel his heart beating fast and his breathing getting rough. "This is not how I go," he muttered.
"I don’t know. I’ve been running from it for a whole year."
Tom nearly stumbled as he did a double take. A year? What sort of evil is this?
"How did you get in here?" he asked her.
"I don't know. I just woke up here, and that is it."
The Message
A green light suddenly flashed in his eyes. A message appeared before him:
"Defeat the beast to stop the hail of daggers."
"What the hell?" he exclaimed, stumbling this time, but the girl's hand steadied him. *Damn, she is strong,* he thought.
"What is it?" she asked.
"A message said I should defeat that beast to stop the daggers."
"How?" she asked.
He was about to answer her when another message followed immediately:
"Use the spear. You have just one chance to get to it."
The Golden Light
"The message said I should use the spear," Tom said. He could feel his breathing getting rougher now. If he didn't find a way, he would collapse, and that would be the end of him.
"What spear?" the girl asked him, giving him a quick glance.
Tom was irritated. How could she be asking him questions when he was the one thrown into this? "I don't know," he said angrily, but she never paid him any attention. Her focus was on the road in front of them. Then she glanced up and saw a golden light that parted the mist. It seemed like it was falling from the sky.
"Over there," she said, pointing at the golden light.
Tom looked at what she was pointing at and gritted his teeth. Seeing the way the spear was falling told him it wouldn't be easy getting it. He might even impale himself. He took a look behind him and noticed the daggers were now falling behind the beast. He thought that was good, but the beast was still gaining on them, and he had only one chance.
The Plan
"Keep an eye on the spear, and tell me when we're getting close," he said.
"Why?" she asked him.
"Because I'm monitoring the beast, and I want to know the best moment."
They kept running. Tom knew he was on his last leg. He shifted his eyes from the beast and looked at the girl. Yes, she too would collapse any moment. He just hoped it was not too late and that they could have a chance to know each other. He had always been a sucker for pretty girls, and the ones in distress always got his attention — sadly, they never stayed after he had solved their problem.
"Get ready," he heard the girl say as she reduced her speed. Tom gulped a deep breath. His lungs protested, but he pushed on. When he heard her say, "Now!"
The Leap
He took one last look at the beast. He had been watching its speed and pattern of movement while the girl tracked the spear. It had been difficult, but he had a strong determination to survive.
As the spear reached the roof level of a building, he pushed the girl toward the sidewalk. He heard her protest, but he didn't care. He leaped.
He was amazed as he rose high. He could feel the cold breeze as he went higher. In one swift swing, he snatched the spear. At the same moment, he threw it where he suspected the beast's next leap would be. The spear, glowing with golden light, went straight through the eyes of the beast, piercing its brain and killing it instantly.
And just like that, the hail of daggers disappeared. Tom fell, hitting the ground hard, breathing ragged, chest beating like a drum. He lay there trying to catch his breath when the message popped up:
"Congratulations for stopping the hail of daggers. Your next task is to make your choice."
The Aftermath
Tom sat up, cursing. "What is really going on here? What madness?"
He turned and saw the girl glaring at him. He stood up on shaky legs and went to her. Thankfully, she didn't say "run" this time. He hoped he had bought them a few days — he didn't want to think it was just a few hours. She was sitting down, measuring him with her eyes.
"What is going on here?" he asked her, sitting down beside her.
"I don't know," she said.
"Don't give me that crap," he said, looking at her. "First, what is your name?"
The Confrontation
She stood up and started walking toward the far end of the desert street where the mist was coming from. Tom sat there with his mouth open, looking like a buffoon. He got angry and stood up. He ran after her, cursing his bad luck. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and the next thing he knew, he was slamming into the ground. He groaned. She had pivoted her hips into his stomach and used his momentum against him.
"What was that for?" he asked as he lay there, rubbing his back.
"What do you want?" she asked him.
"First, tell me your name."
"What is it to you?" she asked.
Tom was too surprised to say anything for a moment. He looked at the empty buildings with the neon lights glowing. Surprisingly, the air here was clean — no sign of blood or rot. Everything looked peaceful, calm, and inviting. He pictured people walking the street, going about their business. With a sigh, he shook his head. "Is it bad if I know your name?"
"Here, a name is powerful," she said.
"Then who are you?" he asked her, standing up.
"What is it to you?" she asked him.
"Don't give me that. I want to know who you are and why you are here."
"That is none of your business," she said and started walking.
Tom started after her. How could she be making things difficult in a situation where they needed each other? "Come on, please don't make it hard on me."
"I'm not making anything hard. It is just what it is," she said.
"Look, the message says I must make a choice. I suspect it has to do with you. So start talking, or I will just walk away."
At this, he saw her shoulders stiffen. He saw her clench her fist, and he guessed he had been right. He stopped and started walking back to where the beast had been slain, shaking his head at how stubborn women always are. He had gone a few steps when he heard her say, "Please stop."
He stood there, not turning to face her. He didn't want her to see the grin on his face. He turned around. She was standing there, biting her lower lip and looking down at her feet.
*Man, she is so beautiful,* he thought. Eyes as clear as glass, blonde hair tied in a ponytail, and those red lips.
He cleared his throat. "Are you ready to talk?"
She nodded but said, "We need to get out of the street now."
"Why?"
"So the Jailer wouldn't send another beast."
Tom was rooted to the spot. He just couldn't take it anymore. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on," she said, glancing at the buildings. Her eyes landed on a particular building whose neon light was flickering on and off. She dragged him inside, closed the door, and faced him.
"This place is a prison," she said.
The Prison
There was silence as they both weighed their choices. Tom looked around the room. It had a bunk — the prison kind — a toilet, and now that he looked properly, the doors were made of bars, just like those back home, but these ones were flickering with neon light.
"All those things are happening because of me," she finally said.
Tom laughed — a hollow laugh that never reached his eyes. "See, just get on with your damn story and don't give me that look. What is going on, and why am I here?"
"My father is the most powerful man in the world. The world used to be a place of beauty, peace, and togetherness," she said, startling him. "There was nothing like terrorism, sickness, or death. Everyone lived an eternal life with joy and so much riches. It was a world never heard of. It was a world created by my father. He wanted to make the world a place where everyone is equal, a place with nothing evil or bad — but love and compassion, peace and joy, and everything is free."
"Can you imagine how it would be in such a world?" she asked him.
"That would be a great place to live," he said, "but that is a fairy world because that world has never existed — not even in the history books."
"But it used to exist," she said.
"Well, what happened then?"
"Me. I happened to it."
"Go on and explain. I'm tired of asking questions," he said, trying to lie down on one of the bunks.
"I was a girl who was stubborn and never listened to my father. I always disobeyed him and went against his wishes. Even though the world enjoyed everlasting joy and prosperity, my father never had that due to the trouble I caused him. He told me not to go to a particular place in the world. He said he had created a veil over that area to contain the evil that the world is witnessing now. He had blocked it so it could never taint the land again. He said I was the key to open it. He said he had written the code with my DNA. He had begged me not to go there, that if I got kidnapped, they could use me to open the veil. But I never listened. I just laughed at him, and like I said, I was stubborn, and my curiosity drove me to that stretch of land."
"Who is this Jailer?" Tom asked.
"He controls the place, and he is the one who releases the beasts. I don't think he is aware of you here; if not, he would have sent more beasts. He is evil, and he has no heart. He enjoys the suffering of people. This place used to be a world of its own with lots of people, but now you can see the emptiness. He has been cropping people like they are weeds to be uprooted."
"Can we get to him?"
She laughed, and the sound was pleasing to Tom. His chest had tightened, and his blood had run cold.
"I don't think we will survive, so no, we can't."
"Alright, go on with your story."
The Manipulator
"I visited this land, and I saw the veil my father had created. I thought he was not telling the truth. The land is desolate. The grass has turned black, and the air was so thick that it was hard even for me to breathe. And then the wailing."
"Wailing?" Tom asked.
"It was like a thousand voices begging for me to let them out. But now I know it wasn't voices — it was all the evil clamoring to be let loose. I turned back, ready to run back to my father, but I bumped into him."
"Who?" Tom asked, sitting up from the bunk he had chosen.
"My father's rival. He is known as the Manipulator."
"The Manipulator?" he asked. She nodded her head. "Never heard of him," he said.
"I don't think so," she said. "He was looking like he had had the worst days of his life. Mind you, when last I saw him, he was robust and full of life, with well-trimmed beards, golden rings on each of his fingers, expensive perfumes and materials. But that day on the veil land, he was looking like a corpse — cheeks hollow, ribs showing from his torn clothes, beard patchy with mold on it. Those golden rings were nowhere to be found. His eyes were haunted. He kidnapped me there. You see, I used to have magical powers, but they couldn't work there."
"The Manipulator thrives on chaos. His power comes from the suffering in the world — the death and all those evil vices have always made him stronger. And when my father had blocked it all, it hit him hard. He had been living his last days in the prison of his powers when I stumbled there due to my stubbornness. He kidnapped me, blackmailed my father, who opened the veil and let out those evils just to save me. But the Manipulator wasn't done. He created this prison that even my father can never get through, and he threatened to kill me if my father intervened. So as long as I am in here, evil will thrive, and the world will suffer."
The Choice
Tom was silent, taking in all that she had said. This was not what he was expecting. *Is this real or am I dreaming, and will I wake up anytime?* he wondered. It was a lot to take in, and she had been here for years — maybe centuries. If it was the same world he lived in, here might be years, but it was centuries outside there.
"Where do I fit in?" he asked.
"My father is a smart man. He knew how stubborn I was, and so he split my personality in two by separating my stubbornness and calmness. I don't know which I am here — it is blocked — but the other is in your world, and that would be the one who sent you here with the help of my father. That message you have been receiving could be from him."
"He had a funny way to send it," Tom remarked.
"Don't blame him."
"So what does your other personality — or you — want from me?"
"To fight for me and set me free."
Tom laughed. *What audacity,* he thought. He slapped his cheek to make sure he wasn't hearing otherwise. "You dragged me from my world over to this prison so I should fight for you?"
She said nothing, just looking down, and he could feel how tense she was, how her hands trembled.
"You can't just drag a man out of his own body to fight for you when he has nothing to gain. How do you expect me to fight for you when you never asked nicely but forcefully?"
"There was no other way," she said.
"Really? How so?"
"It was just a one-time thing, and you will gain something if you fight for me."
"And what is that?" he asked her.
"Me," she said.
"You?"
"Yes. Me."
He stared at her for a while, and then he burst into laughter that rocked him hard. He wiped the tears from his eyes and said, "So you too want to take me for a sucker?"
"No," she said. "I'm serious about that. If you choose to help me, I will become mortal, and I will be waiting for you in your room when you wake up. My mortality will break the prison, and when I am free, my father can do what he can to save the world before it all gets destroyed — or if it is too late, I can't tell."
"So saving you is also saving the world?"
"Yes."
The Decision
"Nothing is always easy," he muttered. *How can I be dragged into a conflict between two powerful beings?* He remembered the saying: when two elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers. And now they were asking him to suffer for the world — and a very beautiful woman. *What choice should I make?* he wondered.
"What is the other choice?" he asked her.
"You choose yourself. You wake up in your room, and all this will be forgotten."
"But the evil continues in the world?" he asked.
"Exactly."
Tom sat there, tapping his chin, thinking about the choice to make: a beautiful woman who would be his and never leave him — because he suspected saving her would bind her to him until the end of days — or walking away, waking up, never even remembering this nightmare, and going about his normal day.
He closed his eyes, thinking hard. *Damn it, those lips.* He had always been a sucker for full lips and long legs. He rocked from side to side, thinking.
The girl never said anything. She let him make his choice. It was something he would have to do alone. She had been seeing how he had been looking at her. She wondered what was going on in his mind. But come to think of it, he was handsome, and he had a well-defined body. She wondered what it would be like to be with him. She had never been with a man before, and this man here... hmmm. Well, let him make his choice first.
Tom's eyes finally opened, and he sighed. "I will save you," he said.
"Thank you. My name is Cindy."
"Cindy," he tasted the name and felt it on his lips, wondering how he was going to make it sound sexy. He shook his head and said, "My name is Tom."
Then the message appeared, and it said: "You are both bonded now. Defeat the Jailer to break the prison."
"Where is the Jailer?" he asked her.
"I don't know, but I suspect at the far end from where the mist came from. Why?"
"Because I'm going to defeat him."
What This Story Teaches Us
The Spear is a dark fantasy about love, choice, and the cost of doing what is right even when you gain nothing from it.
1. Heartbreak does not make you useless. Tom was broken by Precious. But in his most defeated moment, drunk and alone, he was chosen for something greater than himself. The people who have suffered the most are sometimes the ones most ready to fight for others.
2. Every choice has a consequence beyond yourself. Tom thought he was just choosing whether to help a stubborn girl in a strange dream. He was actually choosing whether the world would survive. Most of the choices we make in our small daily lives carry weight we cannot see.
3. Stubbornness is not strength. The girl's refusal to listen to her father cost the entire world its peace and prosperity. Curiosity and pride are not evil — but unchecked, they open veils that were sealed for good reason.
4. Evil feeds on suffering. The Manipulator grew powerful not through hard work or intelligence but through the pain and chaos of others. There are people like that in every society — those who thrive only when things are falling apart around them.
5. Real love requires a choice made freely. The girl could not force Tom to fight for her. She could only offer herself honestly and wait. That vulnerability — after all her stubbornness — is the most human moment in the entire story.
Outro
Tom stands in the neon-lit prison room, Cindy's name fresh on his lips, the message still glowing in the air: "You are both bonded now. Defeat the Jailer to break the prison." He made his choice. He chose her. He chose to fight. But he has no army, no magic, no weapons except a spear that is already gone. The Jailer is somewhere in the mist, sending beasts, feeding on suffering. Cindy's father — the most powerful man in the world — cannot reach them. The Manipulator is watching. And Tom has just volunteered to do what no one else has dared: walk into the darkness and kill the thing that controls it. He wanted a woman who would not leave him. He got a bond that cannot be broken — and a war he never asked for. The girl is no longer running. But Tom has just started. Part 2 is coming. The Jailer is waiting. And in a prison where even gods cannot enter, one heartbroken man is about to discover what he is truly made of.
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