Last of My Kind

Author's note

★★★★

This is my first jab at writing an online story, so i sincerely hope you like it. Constructive criticism and feedback are welcome.

1. All characters involved in sexual activities are of ages 18 and above.

2. There are no ties ties to people in real life, its a fictional story after all.

3. This is a novel length story with a decent place. so if you want a quick read well... give it a try :)

4. Lastly, if you like my work kindly like and/or comment to help others find my work. Enjoy

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PROLOGUE

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The air was heavy with an unsettling mix of dread and the scent of iron, echoing with haunting cries of anguish. I recognized the environment from previous visions, yet its significance remained elusive. It had to be a dream--but the fear, the pain, the chill seeping into my bones felt too real to dismiss.

The visions started last summer, right after I turned eighteen. They showed me a battlefield, littered with the broken bodies of thousands--some dying, many already dead.

The most disturbing part wasn't the gore or even the choking stench of fear and regret. It was the armor. All the soldiers lying there, every last one of them, wore identical golden armor. Same side. Same fate. Same cause.

And in the middle of it all--me. Completely unscathed. Standing among the fallen, an uneasy strength radiating from within me.

For an unknown reason, I felt regret. Crushing, inexplicable regret.

Before I could unravel it, a distant ringing cut through the haze of the battlefield, dragging me back to the waking world.

"Jason, turn off the damn alarm! It's been ringing forever!" Linda shouted through the door.

"Alright, jeez, I was just about to!" I groaned, rolling over to kill the alarm.

11:52 AM glared back at me.

"Damn, I really overslept," I muttered, stretching out my kinks.

"Hey, Mom said to get your ass out here and grab your lunch. Uncle Grey's gonna be here in an hour."

"Alright," I called back. She had a razor tongue and a wild vocabulary, but I loved our dynamic. That's just how we grew up.

Uncle Grey--well, he was a grumpy old man in the best way. I remembered spending summers at his place, out in the middle of nowhere. He used to tell us stories about magical creatures and ancient wars. "True stories," he'd insist, cigarette hanging from his lips like punctuation. Entertaining as hell.

I stepped into the bathroom, splashed some cold water on my face, and began brushing my teeth. That's when I noticed the strangest thing in the mirror--my eyes glowed faintly, a molten gold hue.

I blinked, rubbed my eyes, looked again.

Nothing. Just my regular, unimpressive reflection staring back.

Weird.

After my lazy excuse of a morning routine--well, technically afternoon--I wandered into the living room.

Dad was planted in his usual spot, recliner tilted back, newspaper in hand and a steaming mug of coffee nearby.

"Good morning, Dad," I greeted him.

"Morning? Son, it's the afternoon," he chuckled, not looking up.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Guess I really needed the sleep. Might take the rest of the week off--recover properly, you know?"

"Sure, lazybones," Linda cut in, walking by. "You were gonna skip work anyway."

I glanced at Dad, bracing for a scolding, but he just shrugged and went back to his paper.

Honestly, he looked younger than most dads I knew--slim build, dark hair, ridiculously fit for someone who'd just turned thirty-two.

Meanwhile, I was... average. Right across the board.

Genetics clearly played favorite, and it wasn't me--it was Linda. She got all the best traits.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hey, handsome! Morning--or is it afternoon now?" Mom smiled from the kitchen. "Your food's in the warmer. Eat up and get ready--your uncle will be here soon."

"Thanks, Mom," I muttered, slightly embarrassed by the compliment.

Just as I polished off my meal, the doorbell chimed.

"Linda, could you get that?" Dad asked, adjusting his glasses.

The man who stepped in wasn't the Uncle Grey I remembered.

Uncle Grey was a short man, his messy white shoulder-length hair always hanging loosely. He had tired eyes, and an ever-present cloud of tobacco trailing him.

This version? He stood tall, shoulders square, wearing a trench coat and a grin. His shoulder-length white hair was pulled back neatly in a ponytail, and yep--same cigarette, still dangling.

"Hello, everyone! How do you do?" he announced, arms wide, eyes twinkling.

"Wow, Uncle, you look... damn good," Linda blurted out.

Linda crossed her arms.

"Language, Linda. Be modest," I scolded.

"Welcome, Grey. You do look fantastic! What's your secret?" Mom asked with a grin.

"See, even Mom agrees!" Linda said, nudging me.

Grey puffed his chest, hands on hips, clearly enjoying the attention.

"I expected a reaction, but this is more than I hoped for," he grinned.

"Hello, John," he said to Dad.

"I was wondering when I'd get a hello," Dad replied with a smirk.

"Meh, the kids always come first. You're the extra--you should be happy I did eventually," Grey said with a grin.

"Huh, I guess it's too much to think not just your looks changed," Dad muttered, rolling up his newspaper.

"It's been a while."

"It has, hasn't it?" Grey replied, chuckling.

They shared a brief but firm manly hug before breaking apart.

"Good day, Uncle Grey," I chimed in.

"Hello to you too, my boy," he said, walking around the couch. "Sorry I missed your eighteenth."

"Oh please, old man--you never came to any of my birthdays," I said, smirking.

"You wound me! I was there in spirit--with the lydes!" he said, grasping his chest with a gasp.

"Stop with the lydes stuff, Uncle. I'm not a kid. And you're what, seventy? You're ancient. Let it go."

"I'll have you know, I'm timeless, not ancient--and definitely not old," he said, pulling me into a warm hug. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too, old man."

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About an hour later, Linda, Uncle Grey, and I piled into his surprisingly well-kept Volkswagen Atlas and headed for the Beartooth Highway. The ride was quiet--until Linda spoke.

"Uncle Grey?"

"Yes, Fairy?" he replied, eyes still on the road.

"Don't call me that," she snapped.

"Why not? It's cute."

"It's childish."

"Would you prefer 'Cupcake'?"

"Absolutely not. Anyway, if you missed us so much, why haven't you visited all these years?"

"I wanted to," he said with a sigh. "But I couldn't leave the cabin. The area's been infested with creatures--if I left, it would've been overrun."

"And now?"

"Now I've got friends who can help keep it safe while I'm gone," he smiled.

"You, friends??"

"Well. I'll accept that--for now."

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Hours later, after winding roads and a few scenic stops, we veered off into the forested mountains.

The calm was almost too much--I nodded off, only to jolt awake when the car stopped.

The cabin looked just like I remembered.

But "cabin" wasn't really the right word. It was a solid 1,500 square-foot beast with an attic, perched on thick wooden beams.

Wildflowers ringed the clearing around it, with a barbed-wire fence circling the open space.

A lone grill sat under a thatched canopy, flanked by wooden benches.

"Yes, I know it's breathtaking. I built it," Grey said, snapping me out of my daze. "But we can't just stand here--grab your stuff."

"Right, sorry." I reached for Linda's suitcase, heavy as expected, and started toward the cabin.

But Linda gasped sharply, dropping her own bag. She clutched her head, eyes shut tight.

"Linda! You okay?" I rushed to her side.

By the time I reached her, she was already standing--but dazed.

"Yeah, I think so. Probably just travel fatigue--I didn't sleep, you know?" she said quietly.

"You sure? That looked rough."

"I'll be fine," she muttered, still rubbing her temple.

As I turned to get the luggage, I noticed Uncle Grey frozen in place, a puzzled look on his face.

What's with the confused looks today?

He met my gaze and just shrugged.

I grabbed the purple suitcase again and approached the cabin.

The doorway was etched with strange markings--runes maybe?

Typical Grey and his obsession with the arcane.

I stepped inside, and everything changed.

A sharp pain shot through my eyes, stopping me cold.

My vision was overtaken by flashes--someone, shackled in massive golden chains.

Me??

I knelt, head bowed low, hands hanging out, my entire body glowing with ethereal light.

Not me, though--the other me.

The pressure was immense--like standing before a god.

One of the chains snapped, and the glow grew slightly stronger.

A distant scream echoed. Someone called my name.

The vision wavered for a moment before shattering, and I found myself staring at Linda's horrified face.

She was shouting something, but I couldn't hear.

My head spun as I was hit with an overwhelming feeling of vertigo.

My hands felt energized, though, so I looked down at them.

They were glowing--a faint, golden glow, but it was there.

Before I could comprehend it, darkness swallowed me.

"Jason!" was the last thing I heard before the world slipped away.

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