The Road That Led Me Home – A Supernatural Mythology Tale

I don’t remember how it all began. It felt like there was no beginning at all, just the quiet moment I found myself standing alone on a glowing red road stretching across a dark, endless plain. On either side of me, deep waters lay still, reflecting nothing but the dark sky above.

It felt as if the world had emptied itself, leaving only me and this road that led toward distant hills and mountains. There was nowhere else to go, nothing else to see. The road glowed faintly in the darkness, like a whisper calling me forward. I didn’t know why I began to walk, but I did, as if something unseen was guiding my feet when I could not guide them myself.

With every step, fear grew within me, for I felt that unseen eyes were watching from the shadows, waiting, whispering. Far ahead, standing like a guardian at the path’s end, was a tall, shadowy figure. Though it looked frightening from afar, it stood still, patient, as if it had always been waiting for me.

I wanted to stop, but the sounds behind me grew louder. Footsteps echoed in the emptiness, and I could feel eyes on my back, sharp as blades. I tried not to turn, but the fear pressing on my shoulders grew too heavy to ignore.

Slowly, I turned around and saw them—three figures walking toward me. They moved as one, connected by something unseen. Two of them had only one arm each, while the one in the center had none. Together, they held two large, blood-stained swords, glinting darkly under the dim light.

As they came closer, I saw their faces—and they were all my own.

A cold chill swept over me, but my feet moved on their own. I turned and ran, faster and faster, hoping to outrun them. But they followed, gaining on me, until they knocked me down onto the glowing red road. The earth smelled like iron, and I realized it was not just dirt beneath me but blood-soaked soil.

They turned me over, their faces empty, and lifted the swords. My breath caught, and fear swallowed me whole as I watched myself ready to strike myself down.

Before the blades fell, shadows rose from the waters on either side. They were beings I could not name, with three heads and two strong arms, and teeth sharp as knives. They pulled the others away, tearing them apart, and I felt the weight on my chest lift.

One of these creatures reached out its hand to me, and though fear prickled at the back of my mind, I took it, hoping for help. But as soon as our hands met, its grip tightened like iron, and its mouth opened wide, revealing sharp, glistening teeth.

My heart froze as I realized I could not move. The other creatures circled around, ready to claim me for themselves, but one among them turned, fighting off the others, its many eyes looking at me with a strange kindness.

“Go,” I felt it say, and as the others let go, I ran.

I ran until I saw the tall figure ahead again, standing before a bridge that led into a dark forest. I knew there was danger there, but I could not turn back, and so I moved forward with the only courage I had left.

As I reached the bridge, the figure began to run toward me, and I found myself running toward it. At the last moment, I leapt off the bridge into the river below. The water was cold and strong, sweeping me away before gently carrying me to the shore.

It was night when I climbed out of the river, soaked and shivering, but alive. The forest before me was dark, the trees whispering secrets I could not hear. I stepped forward, searching for the road once more, hoping it would appear to guide me.

Then I heard voices—soft, distant calls for help echoing through the darkness. I ran, hoping to find someone else in this lonely world, following the calls until I found a man lying on the ground. His clothes were soaked with blood, and when I turned him over, I saw it was my brother.

“Where were you?” he whispered, pain in his eyes.

Before I could answer, a sound behind me made me turn, but there was nothing there. When I turned back, my brother was gone, leaving no trace but the memory of his voice.

Another voice called my name, soft and familiar. I ran toward it, and there she was—my friend, the one I had always cared for but never found the words to tell. Her eyes were filled with tears.

“You could have told me you loved me,” she whispered.

I helped her stand, and together we walked through the forest until we found the road again. She turned to me, tears shining in the dark.

“I called out to you so I could be with you for a little while,” she said, and as she smiled, she began to fade into the darkness, leaving me alone once more.

Ahead, the road led up to a hill, and on top of that hill stood a small house, glowing softly like a warm memory. In that moment, I understood the truth—the road had always been leading me home.

I stood quietly, breathing in the cool air, before I felt a presence behind me. I turned and saw the tall figure from the bridge. My fear rose, but when I looked into its eyes, I saw something I did not expect.

Its eyes were the same as my father’s—kind, tired, and strong.

I turned my gaze up the hill, and in the soft light, I saw my mother waiting for me, standing by the doorway of the house.

When I looked back at the shadow, it was no longer a monster.

It was my father.

And at last, I took a step forward, walking the road that led me home.

Moral of the Story

Sometimes we must walk through fear, regret, and the shadows within ourselves to discover that love and forgiveness were waiting for us all along.