The Thousandth Sunset

He lived through nine hundred and ninety-nine sunsets.

Every time, he died at the moment the sun went down.

The thousandth time, the sun set.

But darkness never came.

He stood on an empty street as crimson fog rose past his ankles.

Behind him came the sound of claws scraping against the ground.

He froze. In all nine hundred and ninety-nine cycles, he had never heard that sound before.

Then he heard someone speaking.

A voice rang out inside his mind.

"Welcome to the other half of the world."