ã€ŠMonsterã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Hunting

    It was dark out on the crisp fall evening. The ever-watching moon sat high in the black sky, silently watching the boisterous city of St. Louis. I was walking, staring at the concrete sidewalk, continually passing through my foggy exhale. I couldn¡¯t think about anything except walking, seeing my feet move, left then right, left then right. I couldn¡¯t think about anything when I was like this. I couldn¡¯t let too many thoughts pass through my mind, or I wouldn¡¯t be able to control myself. It would take over. I couldn¡¯t let It take over yet; I wasn¡¯t where I needed to be. I had learned to make myself go numb, focus only on small things like walking, or the crisp autumn air whipping past my face. So, I walked, not fast or slow, but steadily, like it was my only goal in life. Left then right, left then right.

    I knew I was getting close to the corner where they set up shop. They were always standing out in front of that building. Day or night, it never mattered. They worked in shifts harassing innocents on the street, selling their products in the dark alley beside the building, and taking drugs and cash in and out. They had no worries, business was good. No one tried to stop them, not the cops, not the better people of the city, no one. They put fear into people because, in their minds, they weren¡¯t scared of prison, and they had nothing to lose. They were violent, cruel, and had no problem killing you if they chose. They were the scum in this city. They did whatever they wanted. They were untouchable¡­ until now. Now they had my attention. This would be the second time I visited this place. The final time.

    A week earlier, a girl had gone missing. She was only 17, blonde, young, and beautiful. She had her whole life ahead of her. She had a family that prayed and begged for her to return home. There was a news bulletin asking for people to come forward if they¡¯d seen her or knew anything to help find her. There were pictures of her littered everywhere. Her name was Emily Smith, and her information was posted on the flyers that clung to telephone-poles and the like, across the city. She wore an unusually shaped cross necklace in the picture. It was silver, and it twisted around like tree branches to form a crucifix. It was unique. The family¡¯s hope was strong, until they found her.

    I went to the spot where her body had been discovered, down by the river. The moon cast a pale light on the water, shimmering with an eerie stillness. My senses could pick up on things the cops couldn¡¯t. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. As I stood there, I caught her scent. Faint but unmistakable. I followed it up the riverbank, my senses keenly attuned to every nuance. Immediately I knew, she wasn¡¯t killed there, her body was brought in a vehicle and dumped like trash. I couldn¡¯t follow the ghost of a car, and the scent was gone. But almost as quickly as I had found it, the trail vanished on the road, leaving me with no choice but to change plans.

    I made my way to her last known location; driven by a fierce determination to uncover what the cops had missed. My journey took me through the winding streets of the city, leading me to a part of town where the streetlights flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows on the cracked sidewalks. The air was heavy with the scent of stale alcohol and decay.

    In the midst of this bleak landscape, a three-story building loomed, its facade marred by years of neglect. Broken windows stared out like vacant eyes, and graffiti covered the walls, telling stories of violence and despair. This place was brimming with possibilities¡ªmy kind of possibilities.

    As I approached the first time, the low lives loitering across the street took notice. Their eyes, sunken and wary, followed my every move. I could feel their suspicion, a palpable mix of curiosity and contempt. Their postures were tense, ready to spring into action if I posed a threat. In this neighborhood, trust was a luxury no one could afford.

    I stood there, absorbing every detail. The broken glass crunching underfoot, the distant sounds of sirens and muffled arguments, the smell of rot and desperation. This was a place where secrets festered, and the truth hid in the shadows. And I was here to drag it into the light. Then kill them.

    I didn''t need to step into the alleyway beside the building to understand what had transpired there. My senses told me everything. The air was thick with the acrid stench of desperation and decay. The potent smells of pain, fear, and blood assaulted my senses, but there was another scent, stronger than the rest. It was a smell I had grown intimately familiar with in this new life. It was death. The unmistakable, cloying scent of mortality hung heavy in the air. They had killed her there. Not just her though, there were others. I didn¡¯t know their names, but I could feel the echoes of their lives being snuffed out.

    But what had brought her there? Emily, why was she her in this disgusting place? I wasn¡¯t sure; maybe a friend, a boyfriend, a rebellious stage took hold and she wanted to try a few drugs. Maybe she wanted to just break the rules a little. Everyone in St. Louis knew what happened there. A lot of people went there looking for their vice.

    When they found her lifeless, bloated, pale body by the river, her family was destroyed. Her parents, brothers, and friends would never see her again. She was taken from all of them, and no one had answers. Except for me, I knew exactly what happened to her. I knew who did those things to her. Someone had to stop them. Not arrest them, STOP them! Someone had to make sure they could never hurt anyone else again.

    As I stood there on the second night, I looked across the dark, low-lit street at the thugs that roamed the area. I watched hands exchange bills and baggies. The business was just right on a Friday night, lots of people looking to make a deal. Supplies for a fun weekend, I guess. I wouldn¡¯t know. The only thing I lived for was what came next.

    The two pedestrians, freshly clutching a small bag of drugs, were walking away when one of the dealers turned his attention toward me, my towering, motionless figure standing out across the street. It was one of the same guys I had seen the other day when my senses had first brought me here. He recognized me, likely because of my height and the fact that I was wearing the same clothes I lingered in when my senses had first brought me to their shithole of a neighborhood. My black hoodie, beneath a heavier brown jacket, helped conceal my face with its large hood, but it probably made me a more memorable figure when I did step out from the shadows and lurked near onlookers.

    I lifted my gaze from the pavement and let the numbness fade, allowing myself to feel the gritty reality around me. I began to sense the murmur of the city, the subtle undercurrent of fear and tension. I could feel It stirring inside me, a dark presence waiting to be unleashed. My senses sharpened, picking up every detail¡ªthe faint scent of sweat and desperation, the flicker of suspicion in the dealer¡¯s eyes. It was time to let It out.

    ¡°The fuck you lookin¡¯ at, man?¡± the street thug spat disrespectfully, waving his hand like a gun.

    I stood in the shadows of the night, silent and still. My gaze locked onto the thug''s eyes from across the two-lane street. I could sense his life force, see his pulse quicken and his veins throb beneath his sallow skin. It was a cocktail of drugs, anger, and violence, but not fear¡­ not yet.

    ¡°Hey! I said, what the fuck you lookin¡¯ at?¡± He didn''t like my silence. ¡°You deaf, motherfucker?¡± His voice dripped with arrogance.

    Another thug emerged from the front door, drawn by the commotion. He swung the glass door open with such force it nearly shattered against the crumbling red bricks. I noticed the gun in his hand, displayed without a care that any passerby might see. They considered themselves gods on this stretch of road, their territory. And I was an unwelcome intruder. But none of it mattered, because weapons or not, they couldn¡¯t stop me.

    ¡°The fuck do we got here?¡± he asked the first guy.

    ¡°This fool wants to get dropped, just standing there, staring like some bitch.¡±

    The second thug started to raise his gun, causing his coat to open slightly. A small silver chain dangled around his neck, and on the chain was a familiar crucifix. It was Emily Smith¡¯s, no doubt about it. He had taken it as a trophy¡ªa trophy for a kill. I had already solved her mystery, but this was the final nail in the coffin. Their coffins.

    I stepped forward, letting the dark aura of the beast exude from me like a shroud of murderous intent, ready to let It out.

    I bounded across the street, feeling my dense muscles contract and expand with each powerful stride. My feet pushed against the asphalt so hard that, if I had time to look back, I would have seen cracks spiderwebbing across the road. The thugs had no time to react. I was on them in an instant.

    I slammed my right shoulder into the first guy''s chest with the force of a freight train. His body went limp before his feet left the ground. He flew across the sidewalk, colliding with the outer wall of the crumbling building. The impact sent cracks racing through the bricks, dislodging chunks that fell to the ground. His bones crunched sickeningly, and blood splattered against the wall, painting a grisly picture. He crumpled to the sidewalk, motionless. The only thing still moving was the crimson blood that rolled down the masonry behind his lifeless body. He was dead from the sheer force of the impact.

    The second guy¡¯s heart jumped into overdrive. I could hear his heart pushing the blood through all the arteries in his body, it was fight or flight.

    I stood there staring at him. I felt my face already starting to shift. My face was hidden in the hood pretty well, but I think he saw it. The eyes were always the first thing my victims noticed. They turned completely black, showing no signs of color or surrounding white, only solid black spheres that peered through the hood that cloaked my head.

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    ¡°What the fuck,¡± he yelled, stumbling backward.

    I breathed in his nasty stench, analyzing it, comparing it to the trail that I picked up while looking for Emily. I looked down at his blindingly white shoes, and there were tiny reddish-brown spots lightly sprinkled across them. The scents were the same from my sharp memory. It was Emily¡¯s blood.

    I shot out a hand to his throat and lifted him up before he could even react. He was nothing, like lifting a Pomeranian. I threw him back into the dark alley, the place he thought he was safe; the place he sold so many drugs, beaten countless people, and killed at least one that I was sure of¡­ Emily Smith, poor girl. He slid down the coarse concrete, grinding the skin off his hands as he tried to haphazardly catch his fall. He dropped his gun once he hit the ground, but quickly retrieved it once they both stopped sliding. He wielded the weapon desperately in his raw, bloodied hand.

    Before he could get back to his feet, I melded into the shadows of the alley. He spun around, expecting to see me. He saw no one. He looked around the dark alley, furiously pointing his gun in every direction. His hand was shaking. Blood oozed from his raw palms, the flesh was frayed and hanging from his exposed knuckles. I could hear his blood dripping to the pavement with a rhythm that sounded like the ticking of a clock.

    ¡°What the fuck¡­ where are you?¡± his voice shook.

    I could feel It taking over, surging through me like a dark tide, drowning everything else. My need surfaced, and the world around me faded into insignificance. The transformation began in earnest; a searing pain ignited in my mouth as my teeth violently shifted and extended into razor-sharp fangs. My fingers ached, spilling droplets of blood as dark talons tore their way through the flesh, curving into lethal points.

    My entire body began to morph, muscles expanding with a relentless, brutal force. I grew larger and taller, each sinew stretching and thickening, straining against my skin. The pressure was immense, as if my body were on the verge of ripping itself apart. My bones elongated and reshaped, pushing my frame into a monstrous form. Veins bulged and throbbed beneath my skin, which grew taut over my burgeoning muscles. The agony was excruciating, yet it was a familiar pain, the price of becoming the thing that hid just beneath the surface.

    I couldn¡¯t wait anymore. I sprung out of the shadows in one fluid movement, pinning my victim against the brick wall by his throat. He dropped the gun and clawed at my arm, trying to pry it loose from his windpipe. It was no use. He couldn¡¯t fight against my bestial strength. He stared into my dark eyes, knowing what was about to happen.

    ¡°Your eyes,¡± the first thing he noticed, and then seeing my changing form in front of him, ¡°what are you?¡± he screeched as he fought.

    I ripped the cross from his neck with my free hand. My talons clawed open the side of his neck. He screamed. Blood flowed from his wound and down the arm that was pinning him against the wall. I analyzed the necklace, confirming it was her cross. He realized in that moment that I was there for Emily¡¯s killer. I was there for him.

    ¡°Please, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to kill her. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, man. Please,¡± he begged. ¡°I¡¯m sorry...¡±

    He was used to being in control. They all thought they had the power. Not the cops, nor anyone else, would stop them. Not anymore. I was there, and I was what the innocents of the city needed. I was the only one who could stop cold-blooded killers like these guys. Most people didn¡¯t want to stoop to their level. They tried to be civilized and take care of things with the laws they created. They tried to use the system, hoping it would protect them. It wouldn¡¯t, not from people like them. However, I could stoop to their level. I could make them go away. I could go further than they ever would.

    It was too late for Emily, but I was what people like her needed. I was what these degenerates were actually scared of; the unknown, scary campfire stories, the things in the dark. I was the monster.

    I lunged in and ripped my razor-sharp teeth into the meat of his neck and shoulder. The urges inside of me were in full control. I ripped and tore; I felt his warm blood go down my throat as I attacked. It covered my face and stained my clothes. Blood was everywhere, it saturated everything around us. He struggled underneath my grip, but I just pushed harder against his neck. One of his free hands kept hitting me in the head, over and over. I felt nothing and continued tearing the life out of him. I used my free, clawed hand and tore into his shoulder, ripping in a downward swipe, severing his arm. His screams were loud for a second, then they muffled out, along with his pulse.

    His body went limp, and I stepped back. He dropped into the pooling blood alongside his severed arm. He was dead. Emily Smith¡¯s killer was gone, never to hurt anyone again. I kept her silver crucifix safe in my coat pocket, safe from these killers.

    I wasn¡¯t done yet. In a sheltered corner cloaked in darkness, I shrugged off my coat and clothes, leaving them for later retrieval. The rest of the transformation continued, and the beast took full control.

    I heard commotion, footsteps rushing out of the front door and rounding the corner into the alley. More drug-dealing thugs were coming, drawn by the screams of their fallen comrade. I looked up the side of the building in the dark alley and spotted an open window on the third floor. Gathering all the strength in my legs, I leaped up the side of the building. My claws dug into the old bricks as I scaled the wall, handholds crumbling under my grip. I crashed through the frame of the third-floor window, shattering glass remnants and splintering wood.

    The room was dark, but my black eyes saw everything with clarity. Drugs littered the tables, the pungent stench of booze filled the air, and guns lay scattered around the room. This was their warehouse, their store, their headquarters. Their product and cash were stashed here, most of it at least.

    My eyes landed on multiple bottles of liquor scattered about. I picked up a glass bottle with my large, monstrous hand, reading the label¡ª90 proof, strong enough to burn. With a flick of my wrist, I hurled the bottle across the room. It shattered against a round table in the corner. I continued my rampage, smashing every bottle I could find, drenching the room in flammable liquid. A lighter next to a pack of cigarettes on a coffee table by the door caught my eye. I ignited some trash and tossed it into a puddle of booze. The room caught fire quicker than I expected, flames spreading like wildfire.

    As the inferno grew, I crouched and squeezed through the doorway into the hallway, the seams of the door frame cracking and splintering under my monstrous bulk. The fire roared behind me, consuming everything in its path.

    The guys who ran outside were coming back up the stairs. They must have heard me smashing bottles and came to investigate. They probably hadn¡¯t seen the work I had done to their friend in the alley yet, but they had to have seen their other buddy at the front of the building, head caved in and bones shattered.

    ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± one guy choked out, looking at the terrifying sight before him.

    I was large inside of the building. I ducked as I wedged through the door into the hall. My face and body had morphed into something bigger and¡­ stranger than they had ever seen. My hands and long black talons were slick with a crimson sheen of blood.

    They raised their guns and fired rounds at me as they began fleeing backward. Most of the bullets missed. Their shots were too wild. A few hit me in the chest, but it didn¡¯t matter. I had let it fully take over; I wasn¡¯t myself. I was more of a monster than human.

    Before they could get far down the hallway, I rushed forward and slashed a dark-haired man across his face. He was forcefully thrown to the ground and wasn¡¯t moving. He was dead. The other guy got a few steps further, but not before I could come behind him and sink my teeth into his neck. I heard someone coming from behind me. I used his body as a projectile and launched him back down the hallway at the person trying to come at me from behind. Their bodies smacked into each other; I could hear snapping bones when they collided. One was dead, the other maimed and unconscious. He''d be dead and crispy soon with the rate that fire was spreading.

    I made my way through the rest of the disgusting building, pouring out anything flammable. I saw a gas stove in a room on the first floor, beneath the fire I set on the third. I ripped it from its place and hurled it across the room. I grabbed what was left of the gas pipe coming out of the floor and ripped it up from the baseboards. The metal sheared and snapped, letting the gas flow out freely. I made my way to the exit. As soon as enough gas filled the building and met the fire, everything would burn.

    I stepped outside and grabbed the body of the first one to die. I opened the front door and threw the corpse inside. The fire would cleanse evidence. The police would still know the men were killed before the fire was set, but they couldn¡¯t know who killed them. So, I let the fire burn. I hoped it would be enough. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure if any DNA or fingerprints would come up as a match for me now that I was¡­ whatever I was. I still didn¡¯t understand everything, but just in case I always tried to cover my tracks. I couldn¡¯t have them looking for me; after all, I was already dead.

    I picked up my clothes from the shadowy alley, ignoring the other mangled corpse, and then ran until I made it into the safety of the shadows. I figured the fire would reach that body when it was at its peak blaze. It was nice and tucked away in the darkness of the alley, and I didn¡¯t think any first responders would be getting too close to this fire for a while. I crossed the street and ran through a small, wooded area just two streets away, distancing myself from the fire. The cops and emergency services would be there soon with the fire being as big as it had already gotten, so I made myself scarce. The fire would probably have to burn itself out, so they would be occupied for a while.

    I slowed my steps and began walking. I could feel the urges being pushed further back into my mind. This always happened after I killed. I was back in control for a little while, and I didn¡¯t have to make myself numb to the world around me. It wouldn¡¯t last long, usually a day or two tops, but it would at least be some kind of relief.

    I willed my own, rational mind to take back over. The monster that I let out began to fade. The dark, bone-like talons receded into each digit. My body compacted itself back to my usual size. My mouth burned again as my teeth moved back into their human form. Finally, the blackness that overtook my eyes dispersed, letting my blue eyes return to my human face.

    I walked slowly through the sparse trees; blood still oozed from my mouth. Then, I heard an explosion. The gas had finally built up enough and reached the fire. The building sent up a plume of smoke and heat as the gas ignited. I could see it through the trees and over the structures that already separated me from the blaze. It was almost midnight, so I was sure the fire would burn through the night for a while. A few minutes later, I could hear the sirens in the distance. Several different emergency services were making their way to the scene.

    I turned and started walking away from the fiery graveyard I had created. I felt good, strong, and in control. I was done for the night and was ready to get out of my blood-soaked clothes. I came out of the trees to a manhole cover on the street. I lifted it out of the pavement and crawled into the storm drain. I had to get off the road for a while since I looked like I had just taken a swim in red paint.

    I was using the sewer systems and storm drains as my own personal trails through the city. They were useful after a kill when I was covered in blood. I pulled the metal disk back over the hole and then dropped down into darkness. I slowly walked in the pitch-black passageways, yet I could see everything. I walked back home in the dark solitude of the subterranean tunnels.

 Chapter 2 - The Monsterâ€™s Den

    I emerged from the network of tunnels and carefully lowered the manhole cover back to its resting place. I straightened up, taking in the topside world, still veiled in the darkness of night. The first sight that greeted me was familiar: the old, abandoned factory I had come to call home. Well, perhaps "home" was too generous a term. It was a place to escape the world, an area the city had long forgotten, where I could be invisible. It was secluded, and few people ventured near, sparing me from unwanted attention. Occasionally, a hobo might stray too far from their usual hideout, but they were easy enough to scare off.

    The factory lay on the outer edges of industrial St. Louis, tucked away in its oldest section. The steel and brick structure stood right against the Mississippi River, providing multiple points of entry and exit via sewer, river, or street, depending on the time of day. Most of the large, multi-level facility was overgrown and crumbling. Tree branches had burst through windows and cracks in the walls, and vines and ivy had wrapped their tentacles around half of the building''s exterior. It was an eyesore no one cared about, too troublesome to demolish and clear out. Thus, it remained empty and mine.

    I had claimed a room that was less degraded than the rest. It was a decent size and mostly empty, perfect for a bed or a chair. Only one wall had a section where the bricks opened to the elements, but I liked to think of it as a window. For the average person, it might have been less than ideal, but I had come to appreciate it. It was a quiet sanctuary from the chaos of the world.

    Inside, the room had a certain rugged charm. The floor was a mix of cracked concrete and patches of moss, giving it an almost ancient feel. The remnants of old machinery lay scattered about, rusted and forgotten, adding to the room''s desolate atmosphere. I had dragged in a mattress and a few pieces of worn furniture, creating a semblance of comfort amidst the decay.

    At night, the moonlight filtered through the gaps in the walls, casting eerie patterns on the floor. The sounds of the river provided a constant, soothing background noise, blending with the occasional creaks and groans of the aging structure. Here, I could rest, think, and prepare. It was my refuge, a place where I could let down my guard and let the beast inside me slumber until it was needed again.

    The life I lived was hard, and being around people made it harder. My senses picked up on everything: blood, heartbeats, scents, noises. It could be overwhelming, and if I hadn¡¯t killed anyone in a while, it was harder to resist the pull. Seclusion was the first thing I learned.

    The second thing I learned was that I had to kill. It wasn¡¯t a question of if I would kill someone; it was a question of when. I could last about a week, maybe two, if I stayed inside the factory. In the beginning, it was hard to accept what I was doing. Hell, it still is. I¡¯ve just gotten better at justifying it to myself. But I was also getting better at lasting longer between kills. I knew I would always have to do it, but I hoped that maybe one day, it wouldn¡¯t be as often, or I¡¯d find a way out of this life.

    I was always learning. Over time, I figured out how to be around people again. I never thought I would be able to control the thoughts and urges that plagued me at first, but it got easier with time. Before, I just wanted to rip people¡¯s throats out every day. Now, if I had killed recently, I could be in public, around others. I could feel normal for a while¡ªat least, what I remembered normal feeling like. It only lasted a few days until I had to seclude myself again, and the urges returned.

    I made my way through the pitch-black corridors of the factory to my room. I had found an old mattress left on the curb after a garage sale and carried it miles back to the factory. It had some stains, but all in all, it was comfortable. On days when I could feel the thing inside of me clawing to get out, I would hole up on that bed and sleep as much as possible. It was an escape.

    I put my hand in the bloodied pocket of my coat and pulled out the silver cross. Emily¡¯s cross. I stared at it for a few minutes as I sat on the end of my bed. I thought about her life, what she could have been, who she was, and her family. Now she was gone, and this necklace might be the only thing her family had left of her.

    I set the necklace down on my old three-legged table, which I had fixed up with spare parts from around the factory. I needed to figure out a way to get that necklace back to her family, or to the cops. They could return the jewelry, but it couldn¡¯t link back to me. I had some thinking to do.

    I went to the side of the room and shed the bloodied clothes. Shockingly there was still running water in the factory. I¡¯m not sure exactly where it came from, but I used it. It felt clean, and I could smell everything, so I knew it was good. Ultimately, I guess it really didn¡¯t matter for me. I got some soap, towels, clothes, and other little things I needed whenever I came across money, or a way to make some. I had a comfortable setup. Well¡­ it worked anyways. It was everything I needed to survive.

    I took a shower underneath the old rusty pipes that supplied the water and washed off all the blood. I was covered almost head to toe after slaughtering all those murderous assholes. I cleaned up and got rid of my bloody shirt and pants. My black hoodie and jacket were destroyed. I actually liked those two items, so I always did my best to clean them. Sometimes I¡¯d tie them off in the river so the current would wash through and clean them. Now I¡¯d have to steal another set from a store. I liked the hood. It helped keep my face hidden when I was out. The jacket was just for warmth. I didn¡¯t think I could die of frostbite or pneumonia anymore, but I could still get cold and uncomfortable.

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    After killing Emily Smith¡¯s murderers, I knew I wouldn¡¯t have to hunt for a while. I still didn¡¯t know precisely how all of this worked since I didn¡¯t have anyone to teach or tell me these things. I had learned everything I knew on my own, and I knew there was a lot that I still had to learn.

    Since I was changed that night two years ago, I learned many things about what I was. When I relinquish control to the thing inside, I undergo a horrifying transformation. I go from being a normal looking man to something more primal. Something that defies easy description. It might not be the most original name, but I truly am a "monster." My transformation involves more than just a change in appearance; it¡¯s a complete overhaul of my physical being. If anyone were to witness this process, I would probably haunt their dreams until the day they died.

    My hands morph into deadly tools, my fingers elongating into bone-like talons that extend from my knuckles. These talons are razor-sharp, capable of slicing through flesh and bone with ease. My teeth transform as well, growing into a set of wicked fangs on both my upper and lower jaws. My senses reach an almost unbearable height, every sound, scent, and movement amplified to a level that can be overwhelming. My strength becomes monstrous, even in my human form, but it¡¯s when I¡¯m fully transformed that I truly become unstoppable.

    My skin turns a dark, ashen grey and toughens to an almost impenetrable armor. It¡¯s a substance so resilient that I can¡¯t even begin to understand the physics or science behind it. When I¡¯m in this state, weapons become useless against me. Bullets bounce off, knives snap, and flames have little effect. My body is a fortress, and if something does manage to pierce my skin, the wounds heal with astonishing speed. I¡¯ve been shot, stabbed, burned, and beaten, yet nothing can fatally harm me once I¡¯m transformed. Not yet at least.

    Speed is another advantage. My legs are incredibly strong, allowing me to run with a ferocity that makes me a blur to anyone who might try to follow. Running is my primary mode of transportation. I can traverse the city with ease, often using the sewers to cover ground quickly and remain unseen. I tear through the underground like a bat out of hell, moving back and forth across the city in no time at all.

    When I hit St. Louis, it didn¡¯t take me long to figure out the best way to navigate the city, and more importantly, how to slip away after a kill. The answer lay beneath the surface: the labyrinthine sewers and storm drains that snake through the city like veins. These aren''t just simple pipes; they¡¯re part of an ancient network of tunnels and caverns that stretch everywhere.

    The sewers lead into old underground passages that were once used to store beer back in the day. Old breweries would stash barrels in these shadowy caverns to keep the liquid chilled in the darkness. Now, they¡¯re a sprawling maze of decay and forgotten history. I''ve stumbled across remnants of old trolley lines, cobblestone streets swallowed by time, and layers of grime-encrusted brickwork. The network is vast, a twisted underworld that intertwines beneath the city like a spider''s web.

    At first, I only used the sewers, but one day I found a crack in a sewer wall that led to something deeper. It was a cave. I smashed through the brittle bricks, nearly causing the tunnel to collapse on top of me, but I pressed on. It turns out that almost all the caves and tunnels are connected in some way. If you know how to navigate them, you can use them to get around undetected by the eyes above.

    I''ve been mapping these tunnels since I first discovered them, but the deeper I go, the more elusive they become. I find myself looping back on previously walked paths. It is confusing the deeper you go and that is what intrigues me. It almost like that place doesn¡¯t want me to discover its secrets. There¡¯s still so much I haven¡¯t seen. Sometimes, I think I hear something moving in the darkness, or catch a scent that doesn¡¯t belong. Even for someone like me, who¡¯s used to the weird and twisted, there¡¯s something unsettling about these depths. They hold secrets, and sometimes, I can¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯m not alone down there.

    I decided to lie down on my bed after I finished showering. It was still dark out, and I wasn¡¯t sure what I was going to do about getting Emily¡¯s necklace back to her family. I figured I would sleep on it and figure it out in the morning. So, I kicked back on my bed and made the best of my bad situation, as I always did.

    Sleep was the best escape from this life that I never wanted; the life that was forced upon me by the one that attacked me that night, back in Dallas. The monster that I had never run into again since that fateful night, where everything I loved was taken from me. I hoped I would have another encounter because I would do everything in my own monstrous power to kill it¡­ him¡­ whatever it was. I was going to kill it, or it was going to kill me. That was Plan B.

    I tried killing myself a couple of times when I first left Dallas. I hated what I had become, what I had to do to my wife Vicky, my brother, and my family. I tried guns, fires, poisons, blades, but nothing worked. I even tried jumping in front of an eighteen-wheeler on the interstate. Tried being the keyword since it also had little effect. My tissues were too dense and tough, and any injuries I sustained healed too fast. I prayed for death, but death never came. It was kind of funny afterwards though. The look on the truck driver¡¯s face when the mangled body he had run down just stood back up, looked at his panicking face, and then walked away into the woods. That poor bastard was standing there on the phone with the police, but his mouth just hung open. I definitely ruined his truck, and probably the rest of his day. At least he¡¯d have a story to tell his buddies for the rest of his life.

    I tried to stop thinking of it all and pass out for the night. I prayed that I would dream of Vicky, and the life I used to have. I always dreamed of her face. I¡¯d see her body lying beside my own in our bed. I¡¯d revisit every moment I had with her in my unconscious visions. I missed her, and I missed my life.

 Chapter 3 - The Beginning (Two Years Ago)

    "Sam, are you ready to go?" Vicky''s voice echoed through the house.

    I was running late, as usual. Vicky, my wife, was doing her best to get me out the door on time. I''d worked the night shift as a security guard and had stayed up far too late.

    "Yeah, just a minute, let me get my boots on," I called back, tugging on my shoes while she continued to talk.

    "Your parents said everyone¡¯s coming at 5 o¡¯clock. We need to hurry," she urged.

    My parents were hosting a big cookout, and my two sisters, their husbands, my brother, his wife, and all my nieces and nephews were coming. Our family gatherings were frequent and cherished. Though we hadn''t always gotten along as kids, we became close after high school.

    I dashed out of the bedroom, grabbing my wallet and keys from the kitchen counter. "I can¡¯t wait on you all day," I teased as I passed Vicky, who was sitting at the kitchen table on her phone. She shot me a glare before grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl and hurling it at me. It smashed into the wall just as I ducked.

    "Me? I¡¯ve been waiting on you," she laughed.

    I grinned, "Damn, juice everywhere." I reached for a rag.

    She playfully pushed me into the wall, "No time, we gotta go."

    "Okay, okay. Let''s go," I said, laughing. "If we get ants, I¡¯m blaming you."

    Still laughing, we climbed into the truck and headed out.

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you got off work tonight. I thought there was no way they¡¯d let you have a night off,¡± Vicky sang.

    I work for a family-owned construction company. I got in with their company through their son, Ben. My brother and I were friends with Ben since we were in middle school. Then I had worked my way up the company as quickly as I could. I learned as much as I possibly could so I could be very versatile, in hopes of avoiding layoffs.  I usually didn¡¯t have any kind of late shift, but the night security guard had just quit, so I had been the standby for about a week. I had bounced around to almost every position and all the different crews over the years. So, I knew what to do in most situations.

    I slowly worked my way up to where I was. I was the assistant day supervisor of our crew, alongside my friend Ben. We grew up together, were best friends all through high school, and had stayed friends over the years. Vicky and I usually met up with Ben and one of his passing girlfriends that he cycled through every weekend. We were good friends.

    ¡°I hate it when you work the night shift. It throws everything off,¡± Vicky huffed.

    I hated it too. I didn¡¯t like having to sleep all the next day when I got off, but thankfully it wasn¡¯t my typical gig. I just had to suck it up and take one for the team. I knew it was the little things like this that made the higher-ups favor me even more, and keep on pushing me up the ladder.

    ¡°It¡¯s just for a little while, Vick. They¡¯re holding interviews tomorrow with a few of the guys who know the position. They¡¯ll probably have a new guy first thing tomorrow, and they¡¯ll be back to normal.¡±

    ¡°I hope so. You work too hard as it is,¡± Vicky said. ¡°You sure they¡¯re not going to try and stick you there permanently?¡±

    I laughed, ¡°No, I¡¯ve done my time. That would be what they call a de-motion.¡± She cut her eyes at me as I mocked her. ¡°You worry too much.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± she jabbed back.

    I yawned behind the wheel, fighting back the tiredness in my eyes.

    ¡°You sure you¡¯re not too tired for this? I didn¡¯t wear you out earlier, did I?¡± she said suggestively.

    I let out a hard, short laugh, ¡°No, I¡¯m good.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ we¡¯ll see if you get anything else from me¡­¡± Vicky threatened, punching her bony knuckle into my ribs.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I yelped in pain.

    ¡°Take it back,¡± she laughed.

    ¡°Okay, okay¡­¡± I laughed. ¡°I think I might have pulled a hammy¡­ or something.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s better. Do you want to try again tonight?¡± Vicky asked, wiggling her eyebrows jokingly.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. Do you really have to ask?¡± I chuckled.

    Vicky and I had been married for a year. I loved her so much. I would have done anything for her, even work the shitty hours to save up for the life she always talked about; the family she wanted. We had been talking for a couple months about having kids and just taking the leap forward. She was 24, and I was 23. We were young, sure, but we both wanted kids and thought it was an excellent time to start trying for one. We were both scared in the beginning, but after some talking, we were very excited. We had been trying for a couple of weeks, hoping she would get pregnant soon.

    Vicky''s shorter than me, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She spends most of her time working at the hospital as a nurse and loves it. Helping people through tough times really fulfills her. She often dreams about having a little girl who looks just like her¡ªa Mini-Vick.

    I¡¯m not too worried about whether we have a boy or a girl. I¡¯m just ready for whatever comes. A little Mini-Vick or a Mini-Me would be great.

    I¡¯m taller than most people I meet, not a giant, but definitely above average. My job involves a lot of physical work, so I stay in pretty good shape. I still try to work out when I can, partly because I¡¯ve always had to keep up with my twin brother, Seth. We¡¯ve been competing with each other forever.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go pick up a pregnancy test before we go home tonight. Maybe I¡¯ll use it in a few days. Who knows, we could get pregnant tonight,¡± Vicky suggested.

    Grinning, I said, ¡°That¡¯d be crazy.¡± The thought of having a little baby running around did scare me but brought me unusual happiness all at the same time. I was excited about the possibility of being a dad.

    I drove down the low-lit roads on the outer edges of Dallas, Texas. I realized we needed gas about five minutes away from our house, so I pulled into a little gas station that was my usual fill up. I ran my card as fast as I could and flipped down the metal tab into the grooves to keep the gas running.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Vick chirped out the window, ¡°will you go inside and get me those hard ciders I like? Please?¡± she begged jokingly. ¡°This might be my last night drinking for a while.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°If you hear this pump click off, will you put it up so we can roll once I get back?¡± I jogged inside the station as she agreed.

    Once inside, I was standing at the coolers in the back as I searched for the ciders she wanted. That¡¯s when this dude came walking up beside me.

    "How''s it going?" the stranger asked, his eyes fixed on the beer cooler.

    "Oh, just getting some drinks for a family cookout. How about you?" I replied, trying to be polite.

    "Family cookout, huh?" he said, a distant look in his eyes. "I haven''t had one of those in a long time."

    "That''s too bad," I said, unsure how to respond. "I''m Sam," I offered, extending my hand.

    "Jon," he replied, shaking my hand. "You look like someone I know," he added, his tone flat.

    I smiled awkwardly, "I get that a lot. My brother and I are identical twins, so maybe you''ve met him before."

    "Yeah... maybe," Jon said, still scanning the beer selection, his interest waning. "Well, I think I''ve seen enough. You have a good one, Sam. Family''s important. Enjoy them while you can."

    As he walked away, a chill ran down my spine, his words lingering ominously in the air.

    It was a bit weird the way he said it, making me linger there for a moment trying to figure out what the hell just happened. I looked over my shoulder a few times trying to look out for the creep just in case he jumped out from the condom isle and bit my ankle or something.

    That dude vaporized. I don¡¯t know where he went but I never saw him again. Good thing too. He was straight up weird. But hey, it was the usual small talk nonsense you''d expect from a random dude in the beer aisle of a gas station. I mean, where else do you meet these characters? So, I shrugged it off, grabbed Vicky¡¯s booze, and headed back to the truck.

    After about twenty minutes, we were pulling into my parents¡¯ driveway. Their house sat on a little over an acre of cleared property that met up with a thick patch of woods so dense you could easily get lost.

    As soon as the truck roared into the driveway, we stepped out, and Seth flung open the front door of my parents¡¯ house, beer in hand. The smell of barbecue wafted through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter spilling from inside.

    "Don''t get too crazy, okay?" Vicky requested, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and mild concern.

    I just laughed, "I won''t." I usually did.

    My brother and I had a unique relationship. As twins, we grew up inseparable, our lives intertwined from the moment we were born. Even in the womb, we had each other, but probably wrapped our umbilical cords around each other¡¯s throats. Our bond defied simple explanation; it just was. No matter how long we went without seeing each other, we always picked up right where we left off, as if we¡¯d only been apart for minutes. The love we shared was different from any other. Not more or less, just different.

    Growing up, we found ourselves in all sorts of scrapes at school, with friends, everywhere. If one of us got into trouble, the other would step in, taking the blame without hesitation. It didn''t matter what the consequences were; we couldn¡¯t stand to see the other get caught. Seeing Seth about to get into trouble for something he did, I¡¯d step in and take the fall, no matter what. It wasn¡¯t something we ever discussed; it was just understood. Maybe it wasn¡¯t the smartest thing, but it was how we were. Usually, we found ways to lessen the situations though, having two brains could help us outthink some of the stupid shit one of us would do. Not that we were little hooligans, just crazy kids full of energy, and dumb ideas.

    As soon as we were in melee range, we zeroed in on one another while my dad and both brothers-in-law watched and laughed by the grill. Vicky just shook her head, smiling as she walked inside.

    ¡°Hey, Seth,¡± she said.

    ¡°What up, squad,¡± he joked, as Vicky walked inside to join my sisters, mother, and all the kids.

    Seth killed the last little bit of beer and then cranked back and threw the bottle into the woods beside my parents¡¯ house.

    ¡°Hey!¡± My dad yelled, ¡°You better pick that up.¡± He didn¡¯t care, no one owned the woods or the property beyond his own, he just didn¡¯t want empty beer bottles lying around.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, clone¡­¡± I said, lunging toward him.

    Before I had a real chance to prepare myself, Seth and I were rolling around in the driveway. We were slipping in and out of holds the other would try to put on. We would wrestle until someone tapped, or we were both just strained to exhaustion.

    Once we were covered in grass stains, dirt, and minor scrapes, my mom stuck her head out the front door, ¡°Supper¡¯s ready.¡±

    It sounded just like it used to when she would call out there when we were kids to get Sara, Sidney, Seth, and I back inside for the night.

    After a long night of wrestling, drinking, and eating, Seth, Dad, and I were sitting outside by the grill, which had turned into a makeshift campfire. The night was calm, and the heat of the coals warmed us as we talked about work, friends, and anything else that came to mind.

    "I love you boys," Dad said, his voice soft and slightly slurred from the beer. "I know I don''t say it enough, but I just want you to know how proud I am of both of you, and the men you''ve become."

    "Love you too, Dad," I replied.

    "Seth, I''m very proud of the father you''ve become. And Sam, whatever happens for you and Vicky, I know you''re a good man and you''ll be a great dad someday too." His voice wavered slightly, and I figured it was the beer talking. "I remember when you were little, how much I loved y¡¯all and wanted to take care of y¡¯all. Now, seeing your families, how you treat them, and your work ethic... it just makes me really proud of you two."

    We sat there, the fire casting flickering shadows on our faces, the unspoken bond between us stronger than ever. It was a quiet moment of shared understanding and unvoiced affection, the kind that didn¡¯t need any more words. Plus we were all getting pretty tore up with how much we¡¯d all been drinking, so I was also just trying to maintain my balance.

    They asked if we were going to have kids any time soon. I had previously told them about what we had talked about but let them know that we were trying for one. Dad was excited, he loved all his grandkids and only wanted more.

    At the end of the night, we all said our goodbyes, I hugged all my sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews, and both my parents. We all saw each other and did these kinds of things frequently enough that I didn¡¯t think to do anything more than just a regular goodbye.

    Vicky and I were back in the truck on our way home. The fun and excitement from our time with my family had been enough to distract her. It wasn¡¯t until we made it home she realized something.

    ¡°Shit,¡± she said as soon as we pulled into our driveway.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°What,¡± I asked.

    ¡°I forgot to stop and get the pregnancy test,¡± she growled. ¡°And you didn¡¯t get one when you were in the gas station mister!¡± She pointed her little finger at me accusingly.

    ¡°There was this guy¡­ he was creeping me out. I got distracted!¡± I pleaded with mock distress.

    ¡°Excuses, excuses,¡± she shook her head as she walked inside.

    ¡°Eh, don¡¯t worry about it. The test isn¡¯t going to change if you are or aren¡¯t,¡± I said. I was buzzed, but not three sheets to the wind. ¡°You remember what you said earlier?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she asked, looking into the mirror at me lying diagonally across our bed.

    ¡°To try again¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too drunk,¡± she dismissed.

    ¡°Bullshit,¡± I brushed off. ¡°I could teach college algebra right now.¡±

    She chuckled, ¡°You don¡¯t even know high school algebra, you idiot,¡± as she walked over to the bed.

    I reached out for her arm and pulled her on top of me.

    ¡°You better not waste my time,¡± she jabbed.

    ¡°What a slap in the face,¡± I laughed, rolling her into the sheets.

    <hr>

    ¡°Sam¡± was the first thing I heard through the darkness of my alcohol-induced sleep.

    I rustled around in the bed for a moment or two.

    ¡°Sam¡­ did you hear that?¡± Vicky asked.

    I sat up, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°That crash outside, it sounds like someone¡¯s out there,¡± she urged, fear creeping through her sleepy mind.

    ¡°It¡¯s probably nothing¡­¡±

    ¡°Can you please go check it out, I won¡¯t be able to sleep if you don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll go¡­¡± I said, not happy that I had to get out of the warm blankets.

    I picked my crumpled pants back up from the floor and pulled them back on. I slid my feet across the wood floor, feeling around for my shoes. Once I found them, I located my hoodie since I knew it was going to be even colder outside. I grabbed my phone for a flashlight and the .357 magnum out of the closet for backup.

    I ambled through the darkness of our warm house to the sliding door in our kitchen. I passed through it, closing the door behind me as I ventured out into the world behind our house. My eyes were well adjusted to the darkness so I could see well enough in our backyard with the way the moon hung in the sky. I put my phone in my pocket since I didn¡¯t need the light yet.

    I couldn¡¯t hear anything unusual, so I just started making my way to the only thing behind our house, the large workshop-tool shed I had back there. It was about twenty yards from our back door, nestled in the lush grass of the backfield, and smashed right up on the woods behind our property line. The old rusty sheet metal structure was quite large and vacant, but I used it quite a bit for home projects.

    I held the gun loosely in my grip, not expecting anything to be wrong. We lived in a more rural area that was isolated compared to the usual parts of Dallas. I thought it was probably just a deer or something. Yet I still kept the gun in hand, because you never knew what was lurking just beyond the woods. It was vast and teaming with life.

    I immediately noticed something was wrong¡ªthe side door was standing wide open. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart beginning to pound in my chest. The sight sent a chill down my spine, a creeping sense of dread that crawled up my neck like an icy hand. The fear was subtle at first, a mere tickle of unease, but it quickly surged into a sharp jolt of terror. Just as swiftly, the intensity faded, leaving me with a lingering sense of foreboding.

    I stood there, rooted to the spot, analyzing the situation. The door swayed gently in the evening breeze, casting erratic shadows on the ground. My mind raced through the possibilities. Maybe I hadn¡¯t closed it properly, or I forgot to lock it in my rush. It could have been a simple oversight, an accident. A gust of wind might have blown it open.

    But as I stood there, staring at the open door, the familiar comfort of my home felt suddenly alien and threatening. The usual sounds of the neighborhood, distant laughter, the hum of a lawnmower, the chirping of crickets all seemed muted, overshadowed by the oppressive silence emanating from within.

    Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself. Slowly, I approached the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. The door''s hinges creaked softly as I pushed it further open, the sound echoing eerily in the stillness. I peered inside, straining to see if anything looked out of place. The dim light from the hanging moon cast long, eerie shadows across the entry, making everything look unfamiliar and strange.

    I scanned the entry interior, searching for any signs of disturbance. tools appeared untouched, no obvious signs of a break-in. Yet, the open door gnawed at my nerves, an unsettling anomaly in the otherwise tranquil scene.

    I swallowed hard, the dry lump in my throat refusing to go down. Cautiously, I stepped inside, every creak of the floorboards beneath my feet sounding like a thunderclap in the silence. I reached for the light switch, my fingers brushing against the cool plastic before flicking it on. The sudden brightness was both a relief and a shock, revealing the familiar surroundings of my shed, but the sense of unease lingered, like a shadow that refused to be dispelled by the light.

    Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just the wind. But as I stood there, the nagging doubt remained, a whispering voice in the back of my mind, warning me that something was not quite right.

    I started walking again, making my way deeper inside. As soon as I was about five feet in, it began to smell¡­ weird. It didn¡¯t smell like sawdust or the freshly cut wood I was accustomed to. It was a metallic odor. I scrunched up my nose as I continued, the smell getting stronger the deeper I went. Once I reached the largest and most central area of the barn, I froze, paralyzed by the horrifying sight before me. A whitetail deer lay torn to pieces, its body pulled apart like a gruesome scene from a horror film. Sawdust clumped together with pooled blood in various spots on the weathered, uneven floor. The blood was everywhere, staining the hardwood floors, splattered across nearly every surface, and clinging to the mangled fur of the deer. One of its antlers was shattered halfway down, leaving only a three- to four-inch shaft protruding from its skull.

    As I stood there, my initial haze of fear began to lift, replaced by a grim curiosity. I forced myself to examine the details. The most substantial piece of the deer¡¯s body, its neck and chest, had been ripped open, exposing raw flesh and sinewy tissue. Massive claw marks marred its side, the rough, shredded edges of the wounds lined with torn, ragged tissue. The buck¡¯s face was frozen in a permanent state of terror, eyes wide and glassy, mouth open in a silent scream. Whatever had killed it had done so quickly and brutally.

    I couldn''t help but wonder how the deer had gotten inside. What had done this to it? And more importantly, was the predator still inside the barn with me?

    The acrid smell of blood and death hung heavily in the air, mingling with the familiar scents of hay and wood. I could hear the distant drip of blood pooling and then dripping off the carcass onto the floor, each drop sounding like a macabre metronome in the otherwise silent barn.

    I scanned the area, my heart pounding in my chest. The barn, usually a place of refuge and familiarity, now felt hostile. The beams of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the walls cast ominous shadows, and every creak of the wooden structure seemed amplified, setting my nerves on edge.

    I took a tentative step forward, my foot crunching on the sawdust and blood-soaked floor. I reached out to touch the torn hide of the deer, my fingers trembling. The fur was matted and sticky, the flesh beneath it cold and lifeless. I pulled my hand back quickly, the reality of the situation sinking in deeper.

    Something powerful and deadly had been here, something that could easily turn its wrath on me. My mind raced with possibilities. Was it a bear, a mountain lion, or something more sinister, something I couldn''t even begin to comprehend?

    I needed to get out of there, to alert someone, but my legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot by a mix of fear and morbid fascination. I forced myself to move, taking slow, deliberate steps backward, my eyes never leaving the gruesome scene. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but I knew that moving too quickly could draw the attention of whatever had done this, if it was still lurking nearby.

    Reaching the door, I finally turned and bolted, the barn door slamming shut behind me with a loud bang that echoed in the still air. My breath came in ragged gasps as I stumbled outside.

    As I regained my composure, the questions still haunted me: How had the deer gotten in? What had killed it? And, most terrifying of all, was it still out there, watching and waiting for its next victim?

    ¡°Fuck this¡­¡± I said to myself. I was an adult, but I was freaked out. Something just didn¡¯t seem right. It wasn¡¯t normal¡­ the brutality of it all.

    I hoped that whatever killed the deer was still in there somewhere. Hopefully, it would be trapped until someone else could get there.

    I walked with purpose towards the safety of the house. I felt like a helpless kid running away from a bad dream, but what I saw was like nothing I had ever seen before. What could have ripped that animal to pieces and spread its blood over every inch of the place? It didn¡¯t seem natural.

    I needed to get to Vicky. I needed to warn her and keep her safe.

    I heard a loud crash behind me that made me jerk my head back in terror. It sounded like the shed had just exploded. When I looked back, the door that I had just locked was missing from the frame entirely. I saw a glimpse of something shiny that might have once been a door lying some fifty yards away in the thick grass.

    Something moved across the dark area in a rush, too fast for my eyes to fully identify. All I could determine from the quick glance was that whatever streaked out of the shed was big. It disappeared into the strip of trees behind our house, and into the shadows of the night.

    I froze in the middle of a yard. I didn¡¯t know what was happening. It wasn¡¯t like any animal I had ever seen before. It was too fast. I could hear its heavy feet pounding into the ground with every step.

    I bolted for the house, trying not to think about anything except running. I ran hard, and when my legs felt like they were moving as fast as possible, I willed them to move even quicker. Fear swarmed my mind. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my own labored breathing from the adrenaline and the intense focus I had on pumping my arms and legs through the grass.

    I was just ten feet from the kitchen door, so close I could almost taste the safety of the inside. But before I could reach it, something hit me with a force that felt like it had come from nowhere. The impact was sudden and brutal. A searing pain shot through my right arm as something slammed into my side, breaking bones and sending me sprawling through the backyard.

    I was thrown violently, my body crashing into the grass at the far end of the yard. I rolled and tumbled, dirt and clumps of earth smearing across my face and grinding into my skin. Each jarring roll and tumble made my broken arm throb with an unbearable ache. The impact had knocked the breath out of me, leaving me gasping and disoriented.

    Despite the pain radiating from my shattered arm and the agony of being flung through the air, I forced myself to my feet. My arm hung uselessly at my side, cradled tightly to minimize the pain. I didn¡¯t think about where I was going; I only knew that I had to keep moving. Adrenaline surged through my veins, dulling the edge of the pain and driving me forward.

    I ran blindly, my path taking me toward the dense woods that lined the south side of our property. I hadn¡¯t consciously chosen to head into the forest, but my legs carried me deeper into the shadowy embrace of the trees. Panic overtook me and I stopped thinking. I just had to run. The forest was a dark, foreboding expanse, and as I plunged deeper, the underbrush and low-hanging branches lashed at me, scratching and scraping my skin. The oppressive darkness of the forest closed in around me, making every shadow seem like a lurking threat.

    In my frantic flight through the trees, I glimpsed something out of the corner of my eye¡ªsomething fast and ominous. A cloaked figure stood perched on a jagged outcrop of rocks, silhouetted against the dim light filtering through the canopy. It was an unsettling presence, silent and menacing, watching me as I fled. The figure seemed almost ethereal, its dark cloak blending into the gloom of the forest. But as soon as I turned to look directly at it, the figure vanished. One moment it was there, the next, it was gone, leaving only the whisper of the forest¡¯s eerie silence.

    Suddenly, a searing heat ripped across my back, and I was thrown through the air again. The force of the blow sent me careening into the trees. I crashed down a steep, downhill slope, my body tumbling end over end through the thick foliage. The earth and leaves smacked against me with each violent roll, each impact jolting my already bruised and battered body. I could barely register the pain, too overwhelmed by the sheer force of the descent.

    My descent ended abruptly when my head struck a large, immovable boulder rooted deeply in the ground. The cold, hard stone met my skull with a sickening crunch, and in that instant, everything went black.

    <hr>

    My eyes flew open. Questions rushed my mind.

    How long had I been there unconscious? Where was the thing I was running from? Was any of it real?

    I tried to stand, pushing up from the ground. My right arm gave under pressure, and I flopped back down. I lay on the ground and wiped the back of my hand across my face. When I looked at my hand, it was smeared with a dark red fluid. I was bleeding out and bad. I reached back with the same hand and touched the stinging strips across my back. My shirt was shredded, and my burning skin was ripped open. I couldn¡¯t see any of it, but I knew it was terrible from just the pain. I felt woozy, lightheaded, and tired.

    The realization of my own body being fucked up made me want to shut down and faint. I looked in between my legs, to the ground, and breathed through the feeling. I tried to will myself to my feet

    I tasted blood. I spit on the rock that was already painted with my own blood and saw more crimson. It raced down over the drying blood that was already caked on the rock. I had to get out of there, but I was beginning to think I didn¡¯t have it in me, too much blood loss.

    Then, flashes of Vicky flew across my mind. I saw her perfect face telling me to get up, I felt like I could smell her like she was right in front of me. She was as clear as day. I had to fight to get back to her, we had so many plans, and I couldn¡¯t let this happen to me. I loved her, and I couldn¡¯t let this be my end¡­ our end.

    I listened to the memory of my sweet wife and willed myself up off the ground. I used my good arm to get my body vertical. My legs were wobbly but holding. The sprinting had taken a lot out of them. I held myself up against a tree with my left arm, my right arm held tight against my side. As soon as I was fully standing, I could feel the hot blood ooze and drip down my body. It was warm as it ran down my back and face. I didn¡¯t care how much blood I had lost. I was going to make it. I pushed off the tree and started walking. I had no direction in mind; I just needed to move.

    I was only a couple of steps from the tree when I heard a slow, deliberate set of footsteps approaching. Each step hit the ground with a heavy thud, resonating with an oppressive weight that suggested whatever was making the noise was far larger and stronger than me. My body froze, paralyzed by the growing sense of dread. I managed to turn my head slightly, barely able to glimpse what was coming.

    Before I could fully react, a massive hand closed around my throat with a crushing grip. The strength of the hand was overwhelming, like nothing I had ever experienced before. Its size dwarfed my own hand, and the pressure against my neck was immediate and unrelenting. The hand felt like iron, cold and unyielding, with dark, almost black claws that dug into my flesh.

    I was lifted off the ground, my feet dangling helplessly. The creature''s claws pressed painfully into my neck as it slammed me into the rough bark of the tree. The impact jarred my body, and I felt the bark scrape painfully against my back. I tried to reach out with my one functional hand, grabbing at the creature''s iron-like wrist in a desperate attempt to pry its grip away. My fingers fumbled and slipped, the sheer force of its hold making it nearly impossible to break free.

    As I struggled, I forced myself to look up into the creature¡¯s face for the first time. The dim light filtering through the dense canopy barely illuminated its features, but I could make out enough to see that it resembled a man of terrifying proportions. He stood nearly eight feet tall, his massive frame bulging with muscle. His body was stocky and imposing, probably weighing close to four hundred pounds.

    The creature''s face was a nightmarish vision. His skin blended into the shadows, stretched taut over a grotesque visage. Jagged fangs jutted menacingly from both his upper and lower jaws, their points glistening in the faint light. The rest of his teeth were equally unnerving, sharp and irregular, more suited to a predator than a man.

    But it was his eyes that were the most horrifying. They were solid black orbs, devoid of any hint of color. There were no whites, no blues, browns, or greens; just an impenetrable void where eyes should have been. They seemed to bore into mine with an intensity that was both eerie and terrifying. Their darkness reflecting a bottomless abyss. The sight of those eyes made my blood run cold, as if I was staring into the very essence of darkness itself.

    He jerked forward, and I felt a sharp pain in my right shoulder. I tried to move my head to look, but it was no use. He had me pinned against the tree like a nasty car crash.

    A wave of sleep started to rush over me. I felt tired, and I couldn¡¯t keep my eyes open. The world around me began to fade, and then Vicky came back to the front of my mind. She was my life, and this was my life flashing before my eyes. I thought about fighting the need to sleep, but I had no fight left. I was broken, bloody, and on the verge of death. I felt the thing¡¯s teeth bite down harder into my neck and shoulder, and then, a few seconds later, everything started going black.

    As the last flicker of light began to fade from my vision, a disorienting presence enveloped me. My senses, already dulled by the intense pain and the overwhelming fear, were further diminished by the encroaching dread. Through the murkiness that swallowed me, I caught a final glimpse of the cloaked figure I had seen earlier, perched ominously on the jagged rocks. It stood at a distance, a dark silhouette against the backdrop of horror.

    The figure''s presence seemed to loom larger as the light waned, its cloak billowing like a shadowy shroud. Though it was far away, an unsettling sense of proximity clung to the air, as if the figure were standing right beside me. I could feel its gaze even in my compromised state, heavy and watchful, pressing down upon both me and the dark beast.

    Then, from the depths of the darkness came a voice. A deep, resonant, and profoundly foreboding voice. It cut through the silence with a chilling clarity, as if the words were spoken directly into my ear despite the distance. The voice was like a growl from the abyss, reverberating with an otherworldly resonance that seemed to echo from every corner of the darkened forest.

    ¡°Fall,¡± it said, the single word imbued with a dreadful weight. The command was simple, yet it carried a suffocating gravity that filled the space with an eerie tension. The voice was not merely heard but felt, vibrating through my bones, sending a shiver down my spine. The utterance seemed to hang in the air, stretching out into the dark void, its meaning both immediate and profound.

    As the last remnants of light slipped away, and my senses were enveloped in the oppressive gloom, the voice¡¯s command reverberated through my mind, mingling with my fading consciousness. The figure¡¯s dark form, now a mere shadow in the distance, remained a haunting specter of dread, its presence an unspoken threat in the enveloping darkness.

 Chapter 4 - Reborn (Two Years Ago)

    I heard the dark voice again, a chilling command that seemed to reverberate through the marrow of my bones: ¡°Rise.¡± It was as though the words were not merely spoken, but carved into the very fabric of my being, dragging me from the abyss of unconsciousness with a cold and unyielding grip.

    My eyes snapped open, the searing brightness of the midday sun immediately searing my retinas. It felt like I was dropped into existence all at once, as though I was experiencing the world anew, seeing it for the first time. I lay sprawled on my back, staring up into a sky fragmented by the silhouettes of towering trees. Sunlight filtered through the foliage, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the forest floor.

    The forest around me was silent, nothing like the familiar woods behind my home. No bird chirps or sounds of animal life anywhere in my immediate area. The trees here were ancient and gnarled, their massive trunks wrapped in creeping vines and thick moss. The underbrush was a tangled mess of ferns and thorny bushes, a labyrinth of greenery that seemed to swallow all paths of escape. I knew I was far from my property; lost in a wilderness I had never ventured into before.

    The position of the sun, hanging high in the sky, told me it was about noon. Its relentless glare burned down through the gaps in the canopy, intensifying the disorientation that clouded my mind. As I lay there, flashes of blood and agony began to rip into the forefront of my consciousness. I saw the shed floor slick with crimson, the torn remains of a deer, and those terrifying black eyes staring into my soul. The creature that had attacked me had eyes like voids, empty and predatory. I felt the phantom pain of its claws, razor-sharp, tearing through my flesh as if it were paper.

    I shook my head, trying to dispel the haunting memories that clung to me like a dark fog. I needed to focus on the now, to understand where I was and how I had ended up here. My eyes darted around, taking in the surroundings. Everywhere I looked, there were trees. They were massive, oppressive, and endless. The forest closed in on me from all sides, a green prison that offered no clues.

    I had no idea where I was.

    I got up from the ground, a little easier than expected, and forced my body upright. My right arm felt healthy, a little tight, but reasonably normal. I examined my arm, twisting it in all different directions, searching for the pain I remembered from the attack. There was nothing. It was okay, not broken as I remembered, or what I thought I remembered, anyway. Yet, my clothes were still utterly destroyed. My shirt shredded, my pants torn, my body caked in dried blood and dirt. How could you explain that? I didn¡¯t understand.

    I began to walk through the dense, shadowy forest with no particular direction in mind, each step crunching on fallen leaves and twigs underfoot. The towering trees around me, their branches crooked and hostile, seemed to close in, creating an almost suffocating canopy above. My sole focus was on moving forward, hoping to find some semblance of safety or the possibility of help. Surprisingly, my body felt perfectly fine¡ªno pain in my arms or back, no lingering headache from the brutal impact of my skull against that unforgiving rock. I gingerly ran my fingers across my back, expecting to feel the ragged edges of torn flesh that had once seared pain into my memory. But there was nothing. No cuts, no bruises, no hint of injury.

    Confusion swirled in my mind like a thick fog. What was real, and what was merely a product of my fractured memories? Everything I thought I remembered seemed so vivid, so terrifyingly real. Yet, my body bore no scars or signs of the horrors I had endured. My hands trembled slightly as I reached up to my neck, the spot where I remembered the beast''s teeth sinking into my flesh. Again, there was nothing¡ªno wounds, no blood, no evidence of an attack.

    I meticulously searched every inch of my body, my fingers tracing over skin that should have been marred by violence. The only sensation that registered was a gnawing hunger, a deep, insistent rumbling in my stomach that twisted and churned in desperate need of nourishment. My insides burned with an almost unbearable ache, and I realized I had no idea how long I had been wandering in this wilderness. Time had lost all meaning; I couldn''t even recall how I had ended up here, let alone how long I had been unconscious.

    As I continued to move through the forest, the shadows seemed to dance and flicker at the edges of my vision, whispering secrets I couldn''t quite grasp. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, a constant reminder of the untamed wildness that surrounded me. Each step was a struggle against the unknown, but I knew I had to keep moving, to find food, to find safety, to unravel the mystery of my unscathed body and fragmented memories.

    I had been walking for hours and hadn¡¯t been able to find my way out of the woods. I stopped to sit down in the thick layer of dead leaves, leaning against the base of a tree. Sweat was running down my face and body, but it wasn¡¯t from the heat, I felt sick. A cold chill shook my muscles that hung from my frame. My insides were gurgling, twisting, and compressing as my body yearned for food. I had to figure out a way to get out of the woods and get something to eat. I breathed slowly, focusing on regaining control of my mind and forcing the hunger back.

    As I breathed steadily, I could hear my heart racing with a relentless intensity, each beat echoing like a drum in the stillness. Above me, the cacophony of birds squawking pierced the air, each individual call distinguishable, as if I could tell the exact species and their locations. The ambient noises enveloped me, a symphony of rustling leaves, distant water trickling, and the faint hum of insects, each sound sharp and clear. It was overwhelming, and a ringing started to take hold and overpower everything else. I placed my hands on my ears and tried to shut it all out.

    With a deliberate exhalation, I drew in another long, hard breath, focusing inward. The external world dimmed, the myriad of sounds fading into a soft, indistinct murmur. I honed in on the rhythmic pulse of my own heart, the steady thump-thump grounding me, pushing the chaos of noises into the background. For a brief moment, I wondered if I was slipping into shock, the sensory overload threatening to overwhelm me.

    Then, cutting through the fading noise, a new sound emerged, rising above the remnants of the natural chorus. It was subtle at first, a gentle, rhythmic rumble that grew steadily louder. Tires rolling across a paved road. The sound was so distinct, so vivid, it felt as though the vehicle was just beyond the trees to my left, the vibrations almost tangible.

    My mind raced, the possibilities swirling in a chaotic dance. Cars meant civilization, and with it, the promise of food, safety, and a semblance of normalcy. The sheer clarity of the sound filled me with a renewed sense of purpose, guiding my next move with an almost primal instinct.

    I jumped from the base of that tree and bolted through the woods. I ran through the first dense layer of trees and suprisingly saw more trees. It had to be on the other side of the next thick band of forest, but it wasn¡¯t. I could still hear the cars moving, and only getting louder, but I couldn¡¯t see them. I ran for probably half a mile, through many thick groupings of trees, until I finally came to a road.

    As soon as I burst out of the dense foliage, a car went blaring past. I couldn¡¯t believe how happy I was, barely dodging a car and an early grave. Finally, I had found help. Unfortunately, they didn¡¯t see me and kept going. But that was okay; it was only a matter of time until someone would stop, especially for a man that looked bloodied and beaten.

    I saw a sign and immediately knew where I was, but I didn¡¯t know how I had gotten there. I was on I-35 about ninety miles north of Dallas, near the Texas and Oklahoma border. I saw a sign for the town of Gainesville. I knew exactly where that was, but ninety miles? I couldn¡¯t understand how I had gotten that far while unconscious. Nothing made sense. Even stranger, how did I hear the cars passing from so far away?

    I just started strolling, hoping to hitchhike back to the safety of my house, and my family. I needed help.

    I had no clue what was going on. I thought that if I could get home, then Vicky could look me over, figure out what was wrong. She¡¯d know what to do. I just had to get to her.

    The longer I walked, sticking my thumb out just for the world to pass me by, I noticed something. Past all the hunger, past the panic and confusion of it all, I felt different. I couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint it, but something wasn¡¯t the same. I felt strange; excellent, but definitely different.

    It was dark out on the long, black road. I had been walking for hours, and the sun had already made its way to the horizon. I was watching headlights pass me by every couple of minutes. Nobody trusted hitchhikers anymore. I couldn¡¯t blame them though; half of my clothes hung shredded, and the bloodstains had turned light brown. I looked like a dirty bum, so I stripped my shirt. I tossed it in a ditch after a while, but then I realized even fewer people would probably pick up a bloodied, shirtless man over a bloodied man. My clothes made the memories of the brutal assault hold their anchor in reality, and not pass on like some strange dream.

    Finally, I saw the beams of someone¡¯s headlights cut around me as they pulled up behind me. I turned to see a truck pulling off onto the shoulder. They were still a way back, but I knew they were headed for me. I thought that my luck was finally turning around and that this was my ticket home back to my beautiful wife.

    The old rusty-blue truck pulled to a stop right beside me as I stood on the dark shoulder. The brakes behind the big mud tires screeched as they came to a complete stop, and then the window slipped down.

    ¡°Hey man, where you headed?¡± a dark-haired man in the back seat asked.

    ¡°South, back down towards Dallas,¡± I answered. ¡°I know it¡¯s far, but I¡¯ll take any ride you can give me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yeah, come on, man, hop in,¡± the driver said.

    Without hesitation, I got into the back seat of the truck. There were three men in total. The driver looked to be in his early thirties along with the others, but he looked like the leader, the other two passengers were quiet but observant. They both had their eyes on me. I thought that they were just careful with a stranger in the car. The driver talked to me through the rearview mirror.

    ¡°I appreciate the ride, man,¡± I said to the driver.

    ¡°Not a problem at all,¡± he said courteously. ¡°We ain¡¯t going all the way to Dallas, but we¡¯ll get you a little further down the road a stretch.¡± He eyed me in the rearview mirror, ¡°You alright? What happened to you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been walking for a while¡­ and it was hot,¡± I prayed this would be enough of an excuse.

    I didn¡¯t see the need to tell them what happened to me since I was still unclear on the subject. Plus, I had my ride. I didn¡¯t want to freak them out and put me back on the ankle express. I wanted to get home to Vicky, to safety. I knew she had to be worried sick. She probably called my mom and dad and the rest of my family too. I just had to make it to her. She would take care of me.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Why are your pants all ripped up?¡± the guy to my left asked. ¡°And why are you so bloody, and covered in dirt? You look like you¡¯ve been living in the woods.¡±

    ¡°I cut through the woods and got caught up in some bushes and thorns.¡±

    ¡°Does anyone else know you¡¯re out here?¡± the driver asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t been able to get a phone to call anyone. I got lost out in the woods for a while and wasn¡¯t sure where I was. By the time I found my way to a road I got a little messed up.¡±

    All three of them glanced at one another, sharing some kind of quick signal.

    ¡°Do any of you guys have a phone I could use?¡± I asked.

    No one answered.

    Then the driver started slowing down and veered off onto a small dirt road that darted back into the cover of the trees. I wasn¡¯t sure what was happening, but before I could even think, we came to a stop on a small two-track trail just off the main highway. It was probably someone¡¯s hunting trail.

    All of a sudden, the guy sitting beside me pulled out a silver revolver and pointed it into my temple. He had his finger on the trigger. I felt the cold steel press into my skin with force.

    ¡°Get the fuck out,¡± he said coolly. It was like he had done this before.

    The other two were already out of the cab and converged on my door. The rust bucket¡¯s door flew open, and the two men pulled me out of the truck. The gun holder crawled out through my side to keep his aim on me. They knew how to stay in control.

    ¡°Give us your wallet,¡± the driver said.

    ¡°What?¡± I said, still in shock at what was happening.

    ¡°Your wallet mother fucker, hand it over,¡± the gunman barked.

    I felt for it in my back pocket, but it was gone; probably lost somewhere between us and the woods behind my house, or on my nightstand. Not sure where it was.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have it,¡± I said, staring at the barrel of the gun.

    That was a mistake. The third man, who hadn¡¯t said much except for when we first met, came around behind me and hit me over the head with something hard. It knocked me to the ground, and I landed on my back in a daze.

    It was dark, almost pitch black under the canopy of tree branches overhead. The moon was the only light source that trickled through the trees. I could make out what they were doing, but I couldn¡¯t see the details. They drug me deeper into the woods. There, they were checking my pockets for my wallet, keys, and anything of value, scavenging me like vultures over an already dead body.

    I had heard about these kinds of lowlifes recently. They¡¯d pick up hitchhikers, or lone wanderers, and take them somewhere secluded to rob them, rape them, or kill them. Somehow, of all the luck in the world, I ran into them after I had just been attacked and found myself in my current predicament.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have jack shit, man. No fucking wallet, phone, nothin¡¯. Shit, he barely has clothes,¡± the third man said.

    I could see in the light of the moon that he had a lug wrench in his hand. That was what bounced off my skull just a few moments before.

    ¡°Fuck em¡¯,¡± the driver said, throwing away my existence.

    The gunman looked at me, straight-faced, and pointed down at me with his gun.

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait, I can get you money¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t even get my whole plea out before I heard three loud cracks sound off.

    All three bullets entered my chest cavity and ripped through me. The pain was searing and intense. I thought I was going into shock since I couldn¡¯t even scream.

    The three assholes who just killed me acted like it was just a casual Sunday outing. They talked as they continued to check my pockets, just in case they missed something. They wasted their time on me. The driver, covered in frustration, kicked me in the ribs one hard and vicious time. Once they realized I didn¡¯t have anything, they paced back to their truck. I couldn¡¯t hear what they were talking about after they stepped away, the pain was too great.

    They killed me and then just walked away and left me in the dirt like I was nothing. It was easy for them; the men had no care for what they had just done. I was their prey, just like countless others. I was never going to see Vicky again, or my brother, my sisters, or parents. It was over. How many others had they done this to now? What number would that make me? The tenth? The twenty-fifth? I waited for the black to come and claim me again.

    Then, something in my mind shifted, a seismic upheaval that sent ripples through my consciousness. The pain in my body, once sharp and all-consuming, was replaced by an overwhelming tightness that swarmed through every fiber of my being. It felt as if my muscles were caught in a relentless tug-of-war, each one pushing and pulling against the others, expanding and contracting in a terrifying dance of transformation.

    The sensation was visceral and brutal. My muscles bulged, stretching my skin taut, as if they were fighting to break free from their confines. I felt my bones and joints popping in and out of place, the sickening crunch reverberating through me. Each dislocation and realignment was a flash of white-hot agony, my body warping under an unseen force.

    A searing burn spread across my hands and face, a fire beneath my skin. I watched in horrified fascination as long, black, bonelike claws emerged from the tips of my fingers, tearing through flesh and nail. My hands themselves twisted and grew, grotesque and massive, almost unrecognizable. The once familiar color of my skin darkened, a creeping transformation turning it a ghastly greyish hue, as if all the life had been drained from it.

    Everything was changing. My jaws and teeth ached with a fiery intensity as they morphed, elongating into a nightmarish maw. The pain was excruciating, a constant reminder of the monstrosity I was becoming.

    Then, the dark woods around me lit up in a way I had never experienced before. Where once there had been impenetrable shadows, now there was a world bathed in stark clarity. The colors drained away, leaving a monochromatic landscape that resembled an old black-and-white photograph, but with a level of detail that was almost overwhelming. Every leaf, every twig, every tiny movement in the underbrush was visible to me with perfect precision. Nothing could hide from my enhanced sight in the shadows of the night.

    I stood there, transformed, in a body that was both foreign and frighteningly powerful. The world had shifted around me, and I was no longer a mere observer. I had become something else, something formidable and terrifying, ready to face whatever came next with a newfound, predatory clarity.

    I could see the three men walking back to the truck, completely unaware of what was happening where they had left me. They had no clue what was coming.

    I didn¡¯t feel like myself, and I didn¡¯t feel in control. I felt like there was something else taking over. I knew what It wanted and what It was about to do. I didn¡¯t want to stop it from happening. The crushing hunger I felt all day had surfaced to become my only priority.

    In the oppressive darkness of the woods, I exhaled a long, deep breath, the sound reverberating through the night with a resonance that was unearthly. It was a guttural growl, an inhuman rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very ground. The three men, alerted by the unnatural sound, turned back, their faces still masked by ignorance, unknowing of the terror that awaited them in the shadows.

    I straightened, feeling the sinewy bands of muscle beneath my skin shifting, sliding into their new, unnatural places. Each movement was accompanied by a sickening squelch, a grotesque symphony of my body''s transformation. As I rose to my full height, the reality of my size became apparent. I loomed over the men, a dark colossus in the gloom, my form barely distinguishable yet undeniably imposing.

    They could now discern the outline of something formidable, something monstrous standing before them. The fear began to creep into their eyes, a flicker of realization dawning. I could see them clearly, their features twisted in confusion and growing dread, but they could only see the silhouette of their doom.

    My muscles, still twitching and adjusting, filled me with a sense of raw power. I could feel the strength coursing through me, each sinew and tendon ready to unleash violence. The tightness across my skin felt like a suit of iron, every movement a reminder of the beast I had become.

    I took a deliberate step forward, the ground beneath me trembling with the weight of my presence. The men flinched, their bravery faltering as the reality of their situation became clearer. I reared back, preparing to strike, the predatory instinct taking over. My claws glinted in the faint light, ready to rend flesh from bone.

    In that moment, I was no longer bound by the fragility of humanity. I was an apex predator, a creature of the night, and the three men before me were nothing more than prey caught in the web of darkness. The woods, once a place of concealment and mystery, now served as my hunting ground. And the hunt was about to begin.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± one of the men yelped.

    The one with the gun aimed it at me and began firing the rounds he had left. The shots rang out in the night, but I was already moving, my body a blur of speed and fury. I launched myself at them with a feral snarl, my claws ready to sink into someone. The bullets tore through the air, some grazing my skin, others embedding in my muscles, but they did little to stop me. The pain only fueled my rage.

    I crashed into them, a whirlwind of destruction. My claws swiped with savage precision, ripping through flesh and muscle, shredding them to pieces. My jaws clamped down, fangs sinking deep into their bodies, tasting the hot, coppery blood as I tore chunks of meat from their bones. I grabbed one of them, his lifeless body limp in my grasp, and flung him at the truck with such force that when he hit, the back wheels slid three feet through the dirt, leaving deep gouges in the ground.

    The other man lay between the gunman and me, still gasping for breath. I pounced, my massive frame crushing him beneath me. My clawed hands plunged into his chest, and with a sickening crunch, I felt his ribcage collapse. Blood sprayed in a fine mist, the air escaping his lungs through the jagged holes I had torn. His eyes bulged, a silent scream frozen on his face, as life ebbed away.

    Before the gunman could empty his revolver, his two friends were dead, their bodies torn apart and scattered like broken dolls. I rose from the carnage, my breath heaving in powerful, ragged exhalations, drenched in blood and gore. The gunman fired his last shot, the bullet striking me squarely. I felt it impact my flesh, but it didn''t deter me. Instead, it only added to the grotesque tableau, the flash from the muzzle momentarily illuminating the crimson-soaked monster that stood before him.

    He had just enough time to let out a strangled scream before I slammed into him, pinning him to the ground with my full weight. My jaws closed around his neck and shoulder, and I bit down hard, the crunch of bone and tearing flesh echoing in the night. His blood flowed into my mouth, hot and thick. It wasn¡¯t the blood itself that was satisfying; it was the act, the primal fulfillment of the beast within. It was the kill.

    The hunger that had driven me to this frenzy began to recede, the insatiable craving easing off my mind and sinking back into the dark depths of the creature I had become. I continued to tear into him with my powerful jaws, ripping and shredding until there was no life left in him, his body a mangled, bloody ruin beneath me. It wasn¡¯t to eat or feed, it was just a frenzy of unstoppable rage.

    As the last vestiges of life flickered from his eyes, I finally pulled away, my hunger sated. The quiet of the night enveloped me, a stark, eerie calm settling over the woods, which seemed untouched by the carnage that had just transpired. The moonlight cast a cold, silver glow, illuminating my silhouette. A monstrous figure against the tranquil backdrop of the forest. The predator within me lay dormant, momentarily at peace.

    But peace was fleeting. The shifting began again, a visceral sensation that clawed at my senses. Instead of the grotesque expansion that had characterized my earlier transformation, this time, I felt my muscles contracting, the once-bulging sinew pulling back to their original, human size. It was a brutal compression, as if every fiber of my being was being forced back into a smaller, more familiar form. My teeth and fingers burned with a searing intensity as the claws and fangs receded, slithering back into their hidden recesses beneath my skin.

    Bones and joints protested with every shift, the sickening cracks and pops echoing in the night as they realigned into their normal positions. My tough, dark hide, once a protective armor, faded back to its normal color, shrinking with the reduction of my muscular mass. The hide was left pallid and raw, a stark reminder of the beast I had been.

    As the transformation neared its end, I felt the return of control. The monstrous entity that had taken command of my body was retreating, slipping away into the recesses of my mind where it lay in wait. A lurking specter ready to emerge again. The sensation was both a relief and a source of dread.

    I stood in stunned silence, gazing at the blood, chaos, and death all around me. The ground was a grim mosaic of splattered gore, shattered bodies, and scattered remnants of what had once been men. I stared at the scene, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened. The weight of my actions pressed heavily on me, a burden of unspeakable violence and carnage.

    A chilling fear gripped me, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness. I was lost in a fog of confusion, trying to make sense of the monstrous change I had undergone and what lay ahead. My voice trembled, barely a whisper in the oppressive silence of the woods.

    ¡°What the fuck¡­¡±

 Chapter 5 - A Whole New World

    The sun was setting, and the shadows were starting to consume the city. It was just after dusk when I left the disintegrating factory and descended into the tunnels beneath the streets. It didn¡¯t take me long as I navigated through the interconnecting branches of tunnels to arrive at the Smith house. I did a little research with one of Emily Smith¡¯s flyers and a phone book to find an address under her father¡¯s name. Even that was tough. Phone books are hard to come by in this day and age.

    Expertly navigating the subterranean tunnels, I found myself only a few blocks from where I needed to be once I breached the surface. Only a minute or so more of rushing through the shadows, I was standing on their front porch with their daughter¡¯s crucifix in hand. It was the only thing salvageable from this horrific tragedy. There was nothing else left I could do. I thought that if I returned it, then maybe they would think they just overlooked it. They would think it was safe and sound inside of their home the whole time. I thought it would help them after everything that happened. An anchor to cling to while they struggled in their anguish.

    Lights were on inside the house, and people were awake, making noises and shuffling across the floors. I moved like a ghost when I wanted to, so I never feared being caught. I stalked around the edge of the house, looking for an entry point. At the very top floor of the three-story house, was a window that was barely ajar. I listened carefully, hearing all of the movement, voices, and heartbeats pulse through the house. No one strayed to the third floor. I took two steps back and then quickly pounced silently up the wall. I lodged myself against the window frame and the wall as I silently slid it open, and then slipped in undetected.

    The room was low lit, warm, and smelled of apple cinnamon. I didn¡¯t want to leave. The smell reminded me of a class I had in high school. The teacher¡¯s classroom seemed to appear around me as I took it in, a reminder of a previous life, a simpler life. The fantasy faded just as quickly as it had appeared.

    It was her bedroom, Emily¡¯s. Pictures of her posing with her family and friends littered the room. It looked like they had left it untouched since she vanished; in hopes that she would return like nothing had happened. More likely, I figured that they couldn¡¯t face the reality that would strike them once going into their daughter¡¯s room. A place she would never be again. There were no fresh scents present, so I knew they were avoiding this room and the memories.

    On the side of the third-floor bedroom was a desk with all kinds of junk strewn across it. A messy table was the perfect spot to misplace a small personal item. It wouldn¡¯t even draw attention, especially with no one coming into the purposefully avoided room. They might just believe that she had taken it off before she had left for the very last time.

    It was possible.

    The house oozed with grief and anguish. It was palpable, hanging in the air, even in a vacant room. I could feel the loss even in the silence. Their pain flowed into me, raising my own hurt from deep below. The loss of my own life, my wife, and my family¡­ all the things I would miss. Those things I had isolated myself from, for the sake of the ones I loved.

    I shook the thoughts out of my head and buried them deep where they belonged.

    I moved some papers that layered the top of her desk, and then placed the necklace underneath them. Once I buried the cross in her work, I made sure I didn¡¯t disturb anything else in the room. No evidence. Then, I left her room like I was never there. Like a wraith, I descended from the room and down to the earth below without a sound.

    As quickly as I had jumped inside, I was back out on a small sidewalk, adjacent to the row of houses. I stayed clear of the streetlights until I was about a mile away. Couldn¡¯t be too cautious.

    For me, this story was complete. The ending was horrible, but it was finished.

    I walked deliberately through town, lost in thought. I was having a hard time shaking the feeling that came up in Emily¡¯s room. I usually excelled at keeping myself together, but not this time. Emily struck a nerve with me somehow.

    I was taking everything in, watching the cars, the lights, the people, in hopes of being distracted long enough until I could force it all to back down.

    It was always a lot easier to be around people in the first couple of days after a kill, so I was feeling good enough to stay topside for a while. I didn¡¯t crave the kill, or want to rip my claws through someone¡¯s chest, almost at all. I tried to blend in, smile, and nod as I passed people, but common courtesy seemed to be lost on a lot of the citizens I met in the evening hours.

    I paced the darkened sidewalks of St. Louis for a while. I passed people that hurried along away from me, avoided eye contact, or just gave curt nods.

    I had a guy tell me to, ¡°Fuck off,¡± once. Then I didn¡¯t care how recently I had killed someone. The monster wanted to be let loose, and it wanted to rip his throat out. I kept it together, though.

    This was getting to be routine for me; walking through town, exploring, looking for possibilities, a new target. It was second nature now.

    I had to be as prepared as possible. When the time came, and I had to kill someone, it had to be someone that fit the bill.

    This had been my life for the past two years. Ever since I became the monster. I had to be careful; watch how many I killed in one area. Although, when killers, rapists, and gangbangers went missing, not too many people noticed or cared. Mostly it would look like an animal attack, or I would take them deep into the wooded area on the outskirts of the city and let the animal¡¯s feast. Then I didn¡¯t have to make it look that way. But still, too much death concentrated in one area would surely draw attention, even if it was dubbed an animal attack.

    I was close to the river, slowly making my way back to my hideout when I heard the shatter of glass. I stopped walking and gazed in the direction of where it had come from. Everything was silent after the shards of glass settled.

    I paced through the dark, closing in on the location where I knew it had originated. As I got closer, I began to hear footsteps, whispering, and a sort of hissing. Or maybe it was more like a raspy exhale.

    It was strange. I had a weird feeling that was only boosted by what I smelled. I smelled blood, everywhere. It wasn¡¯t like someone was bleeding out, but more like many different sources of blood all pooling together. I had never experienced it before. It was strange¡­ and powerful.

    I jumped a chain-link fence and came into a paved opening behind a large white building. No cars in sight, just an empty, wet, loading area. The place had to be some kind of storage location, like a warehouse or distribution center for a local company.  Many eighteen-wheeler loading bays lined the outer wall on the backside where I approached.

    No one was in the immediate area, but the footsteps and whispers grew louder and louder. Then a new metallic clicking started sounding. The scent of all the mixed blood flooded my senses. Something I had never experienced was happening. I could sense it but not see it. I wasn¡¯t afraid, just more curious. Fear never crossed my mind anymore. At least, not for myself.

    Then, in a series of rushes, people started appearing about ten feet in front of me. There were three of them, two men and a woman. They moved fast, but I could see them as soon as they left the cover of a bay door on the back side of the building. They ripped across the wet pavement with incredible speed. I watched the grins on their faces widen as they sped to me, thinking I was unaware. I could have reached out and touched them if I wanted.

    ¡°What do we have tonight?¡± the man in the middle asked.

    He eyed me, unamused like this was all monotonous to him. He was slightly shorter than me, not by much, about six feet tall probably. He was bald, nothing but skin shone on top of his head, and his eyes looked tired. The more I focused on his eyes, the stranger they looked.

    ¡°Just a lone wanderer, it seems. How¡­ fortunate. I really was in no mood to chase anyone,¡± the woman beside him said.

    She had short black hair, looked to be in good shape, and was actually pretty attractive. But I wouldn¡¯t give her too much credit, because almost any woman looked good to me now. I hadn¡¯t been with a woman in two years. Not since I had turned into this. It was one of the things I wanted almost as much as the kill itself. Especially right after, when the urge to end lives was at its weakest. I was still a man¡­ at least partly.

    The last man just stood in silence, grinning.

    I never said anything. I didn¡¯t even really think about what they were saying. I was too fixed on the strange oddities that all three of them shared. I examined them all, comparing each one to the other. Their eyes were the most bizarre. They almost looked like they were bleeding. The iris was like a magnet, pulling blood into it to color them a deep crimson, leaving the whites of their eyes severely bloodshot. The smell was overwhelming up close. It smelled like dozens of people were standing in front of me, not three. It was¡­ unusual. I had never experienced anything like this in the past two years. But the speed, that was the kicker.

    ¡°You smell funny, boy,¡± the bald one accused.

    He could smell me across the distance between us.

    I looked at him, cocking my head to the side, realizing that they were like me. Well, not like me, but different. They were something¡­ definitely something: fast, stealthy, and strange. They might have answers for me. The thing I craved almost as much as the monster craved death. I needed to figure out what I had become. What if they could help me?

    I could still hear the clicking of metal around us somewhere, along with the whispering. Was there more than just three?

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you scared?¡± the woman asked with an accent I just picked up. She sounded like she might be British or something. She looked interested.

    I wasn¡¯t. What could they do to me? I had already tried everything I could think of to kill myself. If they could somehow kill me and end my horrifying existence, I¡¯d welcome it.

    ¡°No,¡± I said truthfully.

    They all looked shocked. This wasn¡¯t a part of their usual game. They exchanged glances amongst themselves for a quick second, baffled by my lack of fear or increased heart rate.

    The woman¡¯s reaction was instantaneous, a storm of fury crashing across her features. Her initial, calm demeanor shattered into a vicious snarl, the sudden transformation almost palpable in the charged air. Her eyes, once a muted shade, began to flare with an intense, searing red. It was as though her anger ignited a fire within her gaze, the flames of her wrath almost visible in their intensity.

    Her face, still a moment before, now twisted with a predatory hunger. The change was horrifyingly swift and dramatic: her canines, once ordinary teeth, elongated grotesquely, extending into sharp, menacing fangs. The transformation was stark, a physical manifestation of her primal rage.

    In that moment of chaos, something within me stirred. It was an unexpected relief. My burden, which had been a lead weight in my mind, lightened. Here were others like me, existing in the shadowy corners of this forsaken secret world. They weren¡¯t exactly like me, but they were like me. The realization that I was not alone in this desolate realm filled me with a potent mixture of hope and desperation for answers.

    A smile began to form on my lips, a hesitant, almost incredulous curve that spoke volumes. The very notion that others might understand the hell I endured, that they might offer a semblance of companionship or answers, soothed my tortured soul. The thought of finding someone who could share my burden, who might have knowledge or assistance to offer, was a flicker of light in the consuming darkness. I needed help. I needed answers. They could be the key to unraveling the mysteries that tormented me, or at the very least, they might make this hellish existence a bit more bearable.

    Then it hit me, they were about to kill me. Well, at least that¡¯s what they thought was going to happen. How many people had they done this to before? How many would they do this too again if I let them live?

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    They thought I was just some random person who wandered into their trap. They had no idea about the monster. No clue of what lived just beneath the surface, waiting for another chance to kill. No matter what I thought these people could be, or tell me, it didn¡¯t matter anymore. Not as I felt the beast rising prematurely. They wouldn¡¯t walk out of this parking lot alive.

    I started stepping forward, advancing toward her. They all looked utterly taken by surprise. The two men matched the woman and bared large fangs after their eyes pulsed stronger with blood.

    It didn¡¯t change my mind. I knew I would kill them. I continued forward, ready to change. To show these creatures what a real monster looks like.

    The whispers got louder for a second. I heard someone in the shadows say, ¡°Now!¡±

    There was a quick snap of metal on metal, and then I could tell something was flying above us. The three creatures in front of me all looked up, eyes wide.

    ¡°No,¡± the bald man yelled. ¡°Close¡­¡± he was interrupted.

    There was an explosion, like a flashbang, and everything went white. I couldn¡¯t hear or see anything. It was a strange feeling, almost peaceful. I knelt on one knee and waited for it to end. The ringing dulled as time passed, and the fog that the flash had seared into my eyes started to clear. Once my vision came back to me, the ringing had begun to disappear entirely.

    As my vision cleared, three men emerged from the murky haze, charging forward with precision. They were a formidable trio, each a striking figure.

    The first man, tall and lean, moved with fluid sure motions. His light, closely cropped hair was streaked with gray, hinting at experience and hardship. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked between the three creatures with an intensity that suggested a deep familiarity with danger. His attire was practical and worn, a black tactical vest over a fitted shirt, and a weathered leather jacket hanging from his shoulders. His boots thudded rhythmically against the ground, echoing his disciplined approach.

    Beside him, the second man was built like a wall of muscle that had a layer of fat surrounding it. He looked like an old-school powerlifter, strong as shit but not chiseled like some new age body builder. His face was a rough map of scars, each line telling a story of past conflicts. He had a rugged, unshaven look, and his eyes were a steely blue, reflecting a readiness for violence. He had reddish-brown hair that had grown out and was cut in a strange almost mullet-like style that seemed kind of ironic. He wielded a large machete with effortless strength, his movements spoke of a confidence born from countless engagements like this. His heavy leather jacket creaked with every powerful step he took, emphasizing his sheer physical presence. Him and the first guy had similar features that made me think they were related.

    The third man was the most agile of the group, his movements a blur of efficiency. He was leaner, with a wiry strength that allowed him to dart and weave with remarkable speed. His hair was dark and short, and his eyes were a sharp green, glinting with a mischievous edge. He wore a lighter, more flexible combat outfit, suited for rapid maneuvers and quick reactions. He seemed different from the other two.

    Together, they moved as one cohesive unit, each man¡¯s movements seamlessly complementing the others. Their synchronized assault was a testament to their training and experience. They focused intently on the three creatures, who were beginning to stir and regain their senses, their growing awareness only adding to the tension of the moment.

    Everything that happened, happened very quickly. The man in the middle attacked first. He pulled a large knife from a sheath on his belt and thrust it straight into the chest of the fanged woman. Screeches and gasps flew from her as she thrashed and fell to the ground. She swiped at them on her way down, but there was no strength behind the attacks. It was a last dying thought. Suddenly, she froze like a statue, dead.

    As soon as the woman went down, the other two fanged creatures started to fight back. The bald man flashed in front of the lead human, who had just killed his friend, and shoved him clear across the lot. The blood-covered blade fell from his hand as he left the ground. It rested only a few feet from me. It looked strange, covered in twisting symbols.

    The silent one sped forward and took on the two men left standing. He was fast, but I could track his movements as quickly as I could track these humans. He slashed at the bigger, red-haired hunter¡¯s chest with sharp claws that I had not seen until that point. They were nothing compared to mine, but still, they looked sharp. The big guy stumbled back, unscathed, save a few shreds that fell away from whatever kind of protective vest he was wearing. He seemed strong but too slow to react to this creature¡¯s speed, even though it was slower than earlier. Before they could react, the creature ran towards the last hunter and began a flurry of swipes.

    This last man was quick. He pulled a longer blade, a machete made of the similarly strange-looking design, from behind his back. He swung it with perfect timing and met the attacking creature¡¯s flailing, clawed arm. It stopped the attack and sent him reeling in pain. He hissed and screamed as his arm lay separate on the ground, completely severed from the rest of his body. He cowered down and rushed towards the building, trailing blood the entire way and then hiding behind a small concrete barrier to regroup.

    The bald man was the last active fighter of the three inhuman creatures. He could see that they had been beaten, so he stopped his forward march toward the first human attacker. The retreat was in his eyes. If he decided to run, the men wouldn¡¯t be able to catch him. He was too fast for them. I had already decided that they weren¡¯t leaving alive.

    I couldn¡¯t transform in front of the humans. That would leave witnesses to my existence. This was another rule I had made for myself. I only changed when the people that would see were going to die. No one had ever seen my monstrous form and lived to tell anyone, and I planned to keep it that way. I couldn¡¯t kill these humans. I knew nothing about them. So, I would do it their way.

    I jumped forward and picked up the metal blade near my feet. I lunged forward and stepped into the fleeing creature. I plunged the shiny knife into this strange being¡¯s chest, right into his heart. The bald man looked into my eyes, confused. He could feel my strength, holding him in place like a vice grip. The hunters couldn¡¯t see my face at this point, so when I spoke to the dying monster, they wouldn¡¯t be able to see.

    ¡°What¡­?¡± the man-beast couldn¡¯t understand what was happening. He thought I was human.

    I sent a pulse into my own eyes, the beginning of my personal transformation, turning them completely black.

    He looked scared, confused like he had a question for me.

    ¡°Do you know what I am?¡± I asked as low as possible. Really trying to convey that it was an actual question.

    He didn¡¯t answer. He looked like he was staring through me. Sifting through every thought and memory he had ever had, trying to figure out what he was seeing. I twisted the blade that was resting in his chest cavity, slicing into more flesh and organs. He coughed blood out of his throat.

    ¡°What am I?¡± I asked again, angry at his inability to answer. I suddenly thought I was so close to getting an answer that I had already accepted there was none for.

    He was trying to form words and speak, but all his strength was being sapped by the blade. Blood flowed freely out of his mouth as he spoke his last words, ¡°What are¡­¡±

    He was dead. He took the same stillness that the woman had. I pulled the knife from his chest, and he fell back onto the pavement. The monster inside welcomed the death, satisfied for a while longer.

    The red-haired hunter was up the trail of blood, machete in hand, finishing off the one-armed monster that hid in the shadows. I could hear the swing of the blade, the cleaving of flesh, and then the spatter of blood as the machete slung the red substance with every motion. It was like a butcher slaughtering a pig. His heavy swipes and cleaves thudding with a wet sound across the area.

    Footsteps were approaching. The two other hunters came to stand beside me, unsure of my awareness of what had happened.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± The leader of the three asked. At least he seemed like he was the one in charge. It looked like the others were taking his lead in the beginning.

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± was all I could say. I had too many questions flying through my head.

    ¡°A little shaken? That¡¯s alright, most of us were when we first saw one,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m Carter. Carter Chasse.¡± He reached out to shake my hand. Something I hadn¡¯t done in a very long time.

    ¡°Sam,¡± I said, reaching out to shake. After I shook Carter¡¯s hand, I met the other.

    ¡°Wayland Porter,¡± the green-eyed man greeted.

    I gathered my thoughts and attempted to get some answers since they seemed to be grateful for my help.

    I tried to act like a human would. ¡°Look, I appreciate you guys saving my ass, but what the fuck was that?¡± I asked, putting on my best act. I hoped I could play the part of the helpless average Joe. ¡°What were they?¡±

    They both looked at each other, probably trying to brace themselves for a reaction they had probably seen many times.

    Just then, the third man, the red-haired hunter, lumbered over to us in slight exhaustion. He was out of breath, a little heavier than the other two obviously. He looked like he was laughing to himself about something when he walked up.

    ¡°Damn, guy! You stuck that sum-bitch in the chest like you meant it,¡± he said, looking back to the bald one I killed. ¡°Right in the heart too. He ain¡¯t getting¡¯ back up,¡± he laughed, kicking the dead body.

    ¡°What were they?¡± I asked again, looking at the dead things in front of us.

    Carter adjusted himself, preparing to explain, ¡°They were vampires.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± There was no way.

    Vampires¡­ were real? Two years ago, I might have had a different reaction, but now it was almost expected. I knew that there had to be other things out there. I mean, there had to be¡­ right? Even still, it was strange to find out this hidden truth about the world.

    I replayed the entire situation over and over in my head. Things began to add up. The blood infused eyes, the speed at which they moved through the shadows, and the smell. All of the different blood that confused my senses. The only things I knew of vampires were what I saw in movies or read from books. To see one in real life, even for me, was unsettling. How had it taken me two years to find one? It was like they didn¡¯t exist until now.

    ¡°How is that possible?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot to explain, but,¡± he paused, looking at the other two men, ¡°first, we need to clean up and get out of here. There may be others near, or on their way, and we aren¡¯t equipped for more of them.¡±

    Wayland set off towards the woman and began dragging her body into the brush beside the lot.

    The red-haired man stuck out his hand, ¡°Francis Chasse, but you can call me Frank.¡± He smiled, very friendly. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone ready to fight three vampires by themselves before. You got some balls, kid,¡± he laughed.

    He¡¯d also never seen what would have happened if they hadn¡¯t interrupted.

    ¡°Good thing you guys showed up. I don¡¯t know how long I would have lasted by myself,¡± I acted the part, scared of what could have happened. I smiled on the inside.

    Carter nodded in the direction of the vampire that Frank had killed behind the barrier. Frank nodded and walked back towards the body. Carter turned back to me with a look of question.

    ¡°You killed that vampire easily. I¡¯ve never seen that before, not like that¡­¡± he shook his head. ¡°Fighting these things takes training,¡± he said.

    I shrugged, ¡°I got lucky. Besides, I still think he was stunned by that explosion. I know I am.¡±

    ¡°Silver bomb,¡± he said. ¡°It blinds them first, then poisons them and makes them slower, weaker. Then we can fight them.¡±

    Silver bomb¡­ I wondered what kind of effect it had on me. Whatever it did to them didn¡¯t really seem to have an impact on me. I felt one hundred percent in my prime.

    He reached towards me and took the blood-stained knife from my hand, ¡°This is a silver blade. They can¡¯t even hold it. It¡¯ll poison and slow them down if you can cut them with it, or kill them if you get the heart. You were dead-on,¡± he said, looking towards the dead vampire at our feet.

    ¡°Is that the only way to kill one?¡±

    He motioned for me to grab the vampire¡¯s feet while he grabbed the collar of his jacket. I followed his lead as we carried the bodies into the thick brush, just outside of the back lot.

    ¡°Sunlight works the best. I¡¯m sure you knew that one. Legends got that part right,¡± Carter smirked at some passing thought. ¡°We move the bodies somewhere out of sight, and then when the sun comes up, it burns away any evidence, body and all.¡±

    Just then, Frank tossed the body of the smaller, quieter male vampire off his shoulder on top of the female. It didn¡¯t have its head.

    ¡°Cutting their heads off seems to work pretty good too,¡± he said as he tossed the head into the pile of bodies. ¡°But I got him in the heart afterward, just in case.¡±

    Carter was serious, ¡°Hunters are hard to come by, and not many have the mental strength to fight the things that are out there,¡± he motioned towards the shadowy woods, ¡°in the dark. We could use you,¡± he said.

    I thought about it for a second. I actually thought about it. There were so many possibilities.

    Should I put myself close to humans, close enough to possibly do them harm? It was a chance to learn more about the world that I knew so little about. It was a tough choice. I needed to learn more, I wanted to figure out what I was. I could always disappear if things got too hard or complicated. I just couldn¡¯t let them too close, no matter how recently I had killed, or how good I felt. I could never forget what I was, what lurked just beneath the surface, waiting to feed¡­ to kill. Or could I?

    ¡°No pressure. We all know that this is a lot to take in, the world not being what you thought it was. If you want to learn more about them,¡± he waved towards the vampires, ¡°or more about my family and the things we hunt¡­ we can teach you,¡± Carter offered.

    I nodded, accepting his invitation, for the moment at least.

    ¡°Well, alright,¡± Frank laughed and patted my shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s get back.¡±

    ¡°You can come with us back to the house. We¡¯ll try to explain as much as we can,¡± Carter said.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I agreed.

    Carter nodded, ¡°My car is this way if you want to ride with us, or do you have a vehicle around here somewhere?¡±

    Shit. How was I going to cover this with a lie? I didn¡¯t have a car, and why would I be out here in the first place.

    Then I decided I wouldn¡¯t lie, ¡°No, I was just out walking, trying to clear my head.¡±

    ¡°You can ride with us then. We can get something to eat, have a drink, and talk. Then I can take you back to wherever you need to go,¡± he offered.

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± I agreed.

    Dinner. I hadn¡¯t sat down for dinner with anyone in forever. Actually, it was¡­ that night. That last night with my family¡­ I quickly forced the memories back down. I couldn¡¯t slip. Not in front of humans.

    We walked out of the area where we piled the bodies, crossing over to the other side of the warehouse. There, parked by itself, was a large black Suburban that was so blacked out that it melded with the shadows in the dark. We stopped at the back door, and Carter popped it open with the remote. They all unloaded their weapons. Carter had a sleek black handgun that he pulled out from behind his waist. They all threw their gear in the back, cleaned themselves up, and then we all piled in.

    We pulled out of the lot and onto the road. The feeling of the street beneath us brought back so many memories. I hadn¡¯t been in a moving vehicle for a very long time.

    I hadn¡¯t spent this much time with anyone since before I was turned into this¡­ thing. I tried to justify going along with all of this in my mind. I was weighing all the pros and cons as we drove. But I knew deep down the real reason I went with them. I was lonely. I had tasted enough of this secluded life, and I wanted to belong. I wanted to have friends again.

    In the back of the Suburban, in the quiet of the night, memories broke out.

 Chapter 6 - Revelations (Two Years Ago)

    I finally made it back to Dallas, back to my neighborhood, my home. Each step was a struggle. After what I did to those men, when I returned to myself, I slowly began to feel weak. My legs heavy with exhaustion and pain dragged me closer to a place that felt like a distant memory. I walked just off the shoulder of the road, clinging to the shadows where the few passing cars couldn¡¯t see the blood-stained rags that hung like tattered ghosts of my former self. Days had blurred together, a ceaseless march through the wilderness and highways, sleeping fitfully beneath the sheltering branches of trees that offered little comfort.

    The moon, a silent watcher, was hovering above me, casting its cold light on the road ahead. It had to be around ten or eleven at night, but time had lost its meaning over the course of the last few days. I was so close to home, but the journey had been a harrowing odyssey through hell. I was so tired, and I was so scared of what was happening to me. I just had to get home.

    I remembered the feeling of the gunshots. The feeling of the bullets against my grotesquely grey flesh. The three men that had tried to kill me were gone from the world, never to hurt another poor soul again. Just thinking about them pissed me off and stirred something inside. I could feel whatever lived inside of me squirming. My body tightened, and I went rigid, stumbling to my knees. I breathed long, slow breaths as I tried to gain control of whatever was happening. I focused on clearing my mind as I inhaled and exhaled. It was barely working.

    My skin was still sticky with blood, some of it my own from the initial attack, but most of it belonged to the men from the truck. The memory of that violent encounter played in my mind, a relentless loop of horror and rage. I had tried to wash away the gore in a shallow creek I stumbled upon, but crimson stains still clung to the creases of my arms and face, mocking my futile efforts. The fatigue weighed on me like a shroud, smothering any sense of relief or accomplishment. I was too tired to care, too broken to feel anything but a numb, gnawing despair for what I¡¯d done¡­ and what I had become.

    As I neared the familiar streets of my neighborhood, the comfort I had longed for seemed to approach. Home was a sanctuary; it was a reminder of the man I was¡­ still was? I just needed Vicky¡¯s help, then everything would be alright. We¡¯d figure this out. Just a few more streets to walk.

    There it was, through the sparse trees on the road, and a short expanse of grass. It was my house. Then, the contracting of my muscles slowed to a stop, and the burning that had just begun surfacing in my hands and face dissipated.

    I stood up slowly, making sure I was myself. It was good¡­ I was in control for the moment. I started walking again, never taking my eyes off the house down the road. It kept me calm. The closer I got, the more I could see, and the more I felt comforted and safe again. My whole family was there. All their cars and trucks were parked in my front yard, along with my own truck. I knew that whatever was happening to me would be okay if I could just make it inside. I had to make it to Vicky. I went into the yard, feeling the natural grass in between my toes as I walked up to the large window. The lights were on, and there was movement.

    My sisters, Sarah and Sydney, were sitting with Vicky in the living room. All of them were red in the eyes from extended crying. Vicky was pacing; her blonde hair was tied up in a mess, and her mascara was running around her puffy red eyes. I saw a mess of tissues on the coffee table and the floor. She had been crying all day. She looked exhausted as she walked frantically, probably waiting for a sign of hope that I was alive. She probably waited by the phone all day for a phone call, waiting to hear my voice.

    Mom and Dad just sat at the dining room table, exhausted from the worry. Seth was right there, stone-faced with no emotion. He was in a different world than everyone else. He was starting to accept that he¡¯d lost his brother, his twin. It was like he lost half of himself. He couldn¡¯t talk to anyone else about it because if he said the words out loud, it would make it real. He just kind of froze.

    My friend Ben was even there. He sat on a stool at the bar of our kitchen. He just watched Vick as she paced, unable to say or do anything to give her real comfort. He was just there, making sure she was okay, making sure that she was taken care of until I was found. He was a good friend.

    Stolen story; please report.

    I loved my wife. Ever since I met Vicky, I knew she was special. I needed her now, and I hoped she could help me with whatever was happening. Ben was my non-twin best friend, he had been since middle school, and I knew he would stick by my side no matter what I had become. They all would. They were just beyond the wall of glass waiting for me, for news that I was okay. I was going in. I needed to feel Vicky in my arms, to feel her kiss on my lips. I needed to hug my brother and tell him I was okay.

    Then they began talking. I could hear everyone through the wall, even though they were speaking softly. My senses perking up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I can do this for,¡± Vicky said. Her words were heavy, tired, and defeated.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Vick, we still don¡¯t know anything,¡± Ben said, trying to lift her spirits.

    ¡°It¡¯s been over a week, and we haven¡¯t heard anything,¡± she cried. ¡°He disappeared right out of the back yard, no trace. How does that happen?¡± She was in a rage. ¡°A lot of that blood was his, and I know his chance of surviving on his own after losing that much blood is only getting lower. I¡¯m a nurse, I¡¯m not an idiot.¡±

    ¡°Vick,¡± Ben tried to calm her.

    She burst into tears and fell back onto the couch. My sisters comforted her, tried to calm her down. Ben went to her side and put his arm around her for comfort. He didn¡¯t say anything, he just sat with her. She was torn up, and I could tell that Ben was too, he was just keeping it together for Vicky¡¯s sake. We had grown up together, basically the third brother to my family.

    I don¡¯t know what started it, maybe it was the hug. I began to feel this rage of jealousy and hate crawl out towards Ben. I knew in my logical mind that he was just there for Vicky, but some dark part of me, this new part, took it as a threat. Then I started looking at Vicky and the rest of my family. How they were crying over my death. Anger, frustration, and rage built in me. It all came from the new place, and I couldn¡¯t stop it. I felt like they had already given up on me, brushing me off, and just accepting the loss. I kept thinking to myself that I knew in my right mind that this was untrue, but I couldn¡¯t shake these dark feelings that crept out of me.

    I felt my body twitch, flex, and burn. I was changing back into whatever kind of creature I had become. I fell against the tree in our yard and braced myself as the transformation tried to take hold. My body thrashed and convulsed as my muscles popped and flexed as they tried to make way for the beast. I fought back, locking my body in a position against the tree. I looked back at the window to try and see Vicky¡¯s face and calm myself. The only thing I noticed was my own horrific reflection splayed out against the yard.

    Everything stopped: the transformation, the anger, everything. I saw what I was turning into. Black colorless eyes stared back at me. They were so black that the moonlight reflected off them perfectly. They were like polished obsidian stones. The bones in my face had started to shift, making my portrait look less human and more¡­ something else. I could see the fangs that had started to bulge from my mouth, and when I looked down at my hands, the long black talons had already begun to creep out. I stared at my reflection for a minute, utterly void of anything but dread. I think I went numb for a little bit, I couldn¡¯t let myself feel anything, or I would completely lose it.

    I saw myself for the monster I truly was. I thought back to the three men earlier in the night, and as I killed them, I remember one strong feeling. I wanted to do it. I was turned into a killer, and right then, I wanted to kill the only people I had in my life. I wanted to bust through the wall in front of me and kill my own wife, my twin brother, my sisters, my parents, and my best friend.

    What had I become?

    I looked past my reflection at Vicky as she came back into view. I took one long look at my beautiful wife. I took in everything about her: her smile, face, hair, body, clothes, even her scent that I could smell from out in the yard. I savored every aspect of her for a quick moment, training it all to memory.

    Then, I made the choice that I had to make. I had to make sure Vicky was safe; safe from me. I had to make sure they were all safe. I knew that I couldn¡¯t control whatever was in me. I had no clue what I was capable of doing to my very own family, let alone anyone else. Now that I began to realize and admit what I had become, I had to take myself away from them. I had to give them up. It was the only way I knew they would be safe from the monster inside me.

    What would be worse? Let them continue with the grief they were already living in, or come back as a monster only to bring more pain and suffering to them all? Or worse.

    I couldn¡¯t trust myself to be around them, or anyone else I cared about. I kept picturing what I did to the three men, and then doing it to my family. Inside my own house where they all thought they were safe.

    So, I ran. I turned and bolted for the darkened woods. I don¡¯t know if I transitioned back to my normal self or continued the strange metamorphosis, but all I knew was that I had to keep running. I had to run as far away from Vicky, Seth, and my family as I could. For their sakes.

 Chapter 7 - The Meeting

    We pulled up to a large, multi-level house that loomed against the night sky like a fortress. The driveway, paved with smooth stones, curved gracefully around the left side of the house, leading to a garage cleverly tucked out of sight from the road. The house itself was an architectural marvel, a blend of modern and classic design. On the outside it was a mix of stone and glass, with large, panoramic windows that reflected the moonlight and gave the structure an almost ethereal glow. Ivy climbed one side of the house, lending an air of timeless elegance to the otherwise contemporary exterior.

    Carter stopped just short of the garage door and pressed a button above his head. The massive garage door began to rise silently, disappearing into the shadows above. The vehicle eased forward, its tires crunching softly on the gravel, and nestled into the right side of the expansive, three-car garage. The interior of the garage was just as impressive as the house, with high ceilings and polished concrete floors. Shelves lined the walls, meticulously organized with tools and equipment, while the left side of the garage housed two other sleek, high-end vehicles, their surfaces gleaming under the bright overhead lights.

    Carter¡¯s home was impressive. Its size and style said wealth. It had an older look to it like it had been built long ago, yet newer features were wrapped around the old structure. He lived just outside of the city, to the West. I wondered what kind of day job he had to afford all of this, or if it was inherited. There weren¡¯t really any houses in sight, only small lights through distant trees. It was very secluded.

    The four of us got out as the garage door closed behind the Suburban. A side door leading into the house began to swing open, revealing a woman with long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She greeted Carter with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up in recognition.

    ¡°Dinner¡¯s ready. How did everything go?¡± she asked, the rich scent of cooked meats wafting out from behind her, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma.

    ¡°There were¡­ complications.¡± Carter motioned back to me, a note of enthusiasm in his voice. ¡°Do we have room for one more?¡±

    Eleanor''s eyes widened in surprise as she spotted me behind Wayland and Frank. She tilted her head slightly, studying me before turning her gaze back to Carter. Despite the lines of experience etched on her face, she was strikingly attractive. She wasn¡¯t ¡°old,¡± just older than me, exuding a confident vitality. She looked very much in shape, her physique hinting at a disciplined lifestyle. Everyone in the group appeared to be in prime physical condition, except for Frank, who was larger and more solidly built, not fat but carrying more weight. He just seemed more focused on pure strength.

    ¡°Things didn¡¯t go as planned. The tip wasn¡¯t bad, but there were three of them,¡± Carter explained.

    ¡°Yeah, there were three of them,¡± Frank emphasized, giving my shoulder a hearty pat. ¡°Thanks to Sam here.¡±

    Eleanor''s expression grew serious as she looked intently at Carter. ¡°Later?¡± she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.

    Carter nodded.

    She descended the step into the garage, her demeanor softening as she approached me. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, Sam. I¡¯m Eleanor, and you are more than welcome to join us.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. Being near them was difficult enough without the added pressure of conversation.

    Eleanor¡¯s smile was kind, but I couldn¡¯t shake the unease that settled in my chest. This house, this warmth, it felt foreign to me now. The shadows of my past clung to me like a second skin, making the comfort and normalcy of their lives seem like a distant dream.

    I felt the monster clawing within, prying at the seams to escape, to kill. Being around this many live human beings was proving to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I started having doubts. So, I just tried to focus on what I hoped to gain. Answers.

    We all walked through the side door and into their house, stepping into an expansive interior that felt almost cavernous. The lighting was low, casting a warm, intimate glow over the space, which was dominated by rich, dark colors. The deep hues of the walls and furnishings created a stark contrast to the bright whites and beiges common in most homes.

    The floors were smooth, polished hardwood that stretched seamlessly throughout the house, their dark finish reflecting the dim light. The only carpet was a plush runner that adorned a set of stairs on the other side of the living room, leading up to the next floor. The air was filled with a delightful fragrance, a blend of home-cooked meals and the subtle scent of candles burning in various corners of the house, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows in the darker, unoccupied rooms.

    We passed through a small hallway that connected the garage to the living room. The living room itself was immense, easily ten times the size of the cramped space I occupied at the factory. A large grey stone fireplace dominated the center, its hearth wide enough to sit on, with a mantel adorned with an assortment of photos and decorative items.

    Turning left out of the hallway, we entered the dining room. The centerpiece was a massive, dark oak table, the largest I had ever seen. It was polished to a high sheen, reflecting the light from the chandelier above. Fourteen chairs surrounded the table, their high backs carved with intricate designs. Several people were already seated, their voices blending into a soft hum of conversation. As the others joined them, only two chairs remained empty, their presence a silent invitation in the midst of this opulent setting.

    The house was a blend of luxury and comfort, its size and style overwhelming yet inviting. Each detail, from the smooth hardwood floors to the grand dining table, spoke of a life far removed from the harsh realities I had known.

    All of them looked up at me, confused and shocked at my unannounced arrival.

    ¡°Hey everyone,¡± Carter said casually, gathering their attention, ¡°this is Sam. He¡¯ll be joining us tonight.¡±

    Their eyes turned toward me, curiosity flickering in their gazes before politeness tempered their stares.

    Carter began the introductions, his voice carrying a note of familiarity and warmth.

    ¡°Sam, this is my wife Eleanor, who you met already.¡±

    Eleanor smiled and nodded towards me again. ¡°Welcome.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied, my voice steady but my mind racing to take in the surroundings and the people. Praying I stayed in control.

    Carter continued, ¡°This is my sister Clara, and her husband Wayland, who you also met.¡±

    Clara was tall and looked sharp, her presence commanding and intense. She had light features like Carter but wore a grin reminiscent of Frank''s. Her physique suggested a lifetime of physical activity, perhaps hunting or some other rigorous pursuit. Her eyes held a glint of something fierce, making her seem more dangerous up close.

    Carter pointed to the man at the table who was already helping himself to the food, spilling some in the process. ¡°This is Frank,¡± he said, indicating his older brother.

    Frank, who seemed to always make light of things, jumped up and scooted down a seat to make room for me between him and Wayland. He had already grabbed two beers, one for him and one for me. With a welcoming gesture, Frank motioned for me to sit while Carter continued. The ease and familiarity they exuded were almost comforting. Frank kept nudging the beer into my hand until I grabbed it. I smirked at his antics and let out a short chuckle.

    That surprised me. That was the first real laugh I had had in a long time. It threw me for a second. I felt a sharp chill of fear shoot through me as I feared letting too loose. I had to pull it together.

    As I settled into the seat between Frank and Wayland, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of their scrutiny. Each person here had their own story, their own place in this intricate web of relationships. The house, with its grand design and intimate atmosphere, seemed to hold secrets and stories in its very walls. The flickering candlelight, the smell of the rich food, and the soft murmur of conversation blended into a scene that was both inviting and intimidating. I wasn¡¯t one of them.

    Despite the warmth and familial tone of the group, I couldn¡¯t shake the sense of being an outsider, a stranger in their midst. But for now, at least, I was part of their world, welcomed at their table, even if just for one night under the guise of another human.

    There was an empty chair at the end of the table that Carter skipped over as he moved on to the other side. ¡°This is Sarah and Bartley Wicklow, and their son Patrick.¡±

    The Wicklow¡¯s had dark features, a sharp contrast to Carter¡¯s family. Sarah had an air of quiet elegance, her dark hair framing a face that seemed both kind and observant. Bartley, with his strong build and serious demeanor, appeared every bit the patriarch. Their son Patrick, close to my age, perhaps a little younger, eyed me with a hint of territorial suspicion. His brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail, and his annoyed, brown eyes watched me from across the table. His posture was stiff, his demeanor unwelcoming.

    ¡°This is my daughter Autumn,¡± Carter said, a smile breaking the tension.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she smiled, her voice soft but genuine.

    Autumn¡¯s smile was warm and inviting, a complete one eighty to Patrick¡¯s icy demeanor. She had inherited her mother¡¯s darker features. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and kindness, making me feel a little more at ease.

    She was gorgeous. Her dark brown hair was tied loosely behind her head, with a few loose strands coming down around her face. It was so dark that it almost looked black in the low-lit room, but I could see the dark brown as the candlelight bounced off. She had a deep brown set of eyes that stared into mine from across the table. She was wearing purple V-neck shirt, nothing fancy. I¡¯m sure she wasn¡¯t expecting company. I caught myself staring for a moment, unable to take my eyes out of the trance they were in. She definitely favored her mother, Eleanor, more so than Carter.

    ¡°Sam,¡± I barely returned.

    I quickly regained control and kept looking down the line as Carter spoke.

    ¡°This little girl is Delilah,¡± Carter said, his voice filled with affection as he introduced the next member of the family. ¡°She is Clara and Wayland¡¯s daughter.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m five,¡± Delilah announced with authority, holding up an open hand to emphasize her age. Her bright eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and mischief, her small frame radiating an unexpected confidence.

    Autumn smirked and leaned over to tickle her little cousin¡¯s neck, eliciting a burst of giggles from Delilah. Their interaction was seamless, more like sisters than cousins. The bond between them was evident in the way they moved together, their shared laughter adding a lightness to the room.

    I couldn¡¯t help but smile at the scene. Delilah¡¯s innocence and energy were infectious, and for a moment, the heaviness in my chest lifted. She was adorable, her sweet face framed by dirty blonde locks of hair that bounced with every movement. But there was something more to her presence, something that stirred a deep, hidden part of me. She was pulling something out of me; thoughts and feelings I had kept buried for so long that they had almost become a part of the darkness I carried within.

    As I watched her, memories I had tried to forget began to surface, memories of simpler times and a life I could barely recognize as my own. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay present, to focus on the here and now. Delilah¡¯s innocence was fanning the flames of the turmoil inside me, a reminder of what I had lost, and what I had become.

    Carter continued the introductions, his voice a steady guide through the sea of faces and names. I nodded and smiled, trying to keep my expression neutral. The warmth and welcome of this family were almost overwhelming, their easy camaraderie strange to me after the isolation I had known for so long.

    ¡°Last but certainly not least, Shelta. This is Bartley¡¯s sister,¡± Carter finished on the shorter dark-haired woman. She was quiet, just giving me a quick smile. She looked focused on something. Her mind seemed a hundred miles away.

    I felt like they were all waiting for me to say something. So, I tried to seem reasonable, ¡°Thanks for having me here.¡±

    That¡¯s all I could come up with. What an idiot. That was the most generic thing you could have possibly said.

    Thankfully, Carter kept going, ¡°It¡¯s not often that we have visitors, so I¡¯ll tell you all what¡¯s going on. We ran into three vampires tonight. The tip I got this afternoon turned out to be real. We found them at that warehouse off Jefferson Avenue. The same one we¡¯ve been suspecting as a possible den. We were watching them about to walk right into our kill zone.¡± He looked at me, ¡°Then, we saw someone else there. Sam had wandered right in the middle of where we were going to engage them, so we had to change our plans. They saw him first and flocked to him.¡±

    Frank laughed, ¡°Yeah, but this guy didn¡¯t budge. You should¡¯ve seen it. He was standing toe to toe with those three assholes, and it looked like he was about to fight em¡¯.¡±

    They all occasionally glanced at me as the story unfolded. I connected eyes with Autumn a few times before we both looked away, she looked shocked. Probably wondering what was wrong with me. Wondering why I hadn¡¯t run from the impending doom. She would never know why I wasn¡¯t running. None of them could.

    I tried to play it off, ¡°I wasn¡¯t really sure what was going on. I thought it was just a couple of drunks looking for trouble,¡± I downplayed. ¡°They were talking kind of funny. I couldn¡¯t really understand what they were saying.¡±

    Damn, I was good at just making this shit up on the fly. I had become a good liar. Whenever I got caught in situations where I absolutely had to talk to humans, I had to have a story. It was rare, but I had to think on my feet.

    ¡°The plan had fallen apart quickly, I got knocked down, and Wayland was engaging another. Frank was taking care of the last one, too far away to do anything about the one who rushed me. That¡¯s when Sam killed one all by himself,¡± Carter finished, pointing towards me as he talked to the others.

    It was subtle, but they were shocked. I guess it really wasn¡¯t that easy to kill a vampire if you were untrained, as Carter had said.

    Patrick scoffed, ¡°Really? And how exactly did he do that.¡± I could sense an undertone of jealousy in his voice. His eyes looked even more irritated at me as he glanced my way.

    This guy seemed to have a real problem with me.

    Maybe he hadn¡¯t ever killed a vampire? Perhaps he wasn¡¯t allowed to hunt. He didn¡¯t look like Carter, Frank, or Wayland. Not physically trained like the Chasse family. Shit, Clara could beat his ass and make him like it if she wanted to.

    Did she hunt? Autumn? She looked fast, agile, not as strong as her Aunt Clara, but still trained like the rest of them. It was something in her eyes. They were very dark, especially towards the center. When I looked at them, it was like a deep hole, darker the further you went. She looked back.

    We both glanced away quickly. She had a different look than Patrick. She seemed more concerned. How could she be concerned for me? If she knew what I was, she wouldn¡¯t be.

    Carter ignored Patrick and told the rest how it happened. He explained the events precisely as they happened, how I stabbed the bald one in the chest with the silver blade, and everything we did to the bodies before leaving the scene. Everyone nodded in approval like they were checking off boxes in their minds.

    ¡°He wants to know more, and I¡¯ve offered to teach him as long as that¡¯s what he wants,¡± Carter told them.

    Patrick looked annoyed. I laughed inside, but the monster, deep below, wanted to reach across the table and rip his jawbone off his face. I felt myself slightly leaning forward, closer towards him. I fought off the feeling, shaking my head slightly.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    They all looked at me. Bartley spoke for the first time, ¡°Is this what you really want? Once you know what kind of threats are out there, there is no going back. You¡¯ll never see the world the same as you used to.¡±

    I didn¡¯t see the world as I used to already, and this was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to learn, absorb, and discover everything that they knew. My hope was to determine if they knew what I was, but I couldn¡¯t just be direct and say, hey, what kind of monster am I? That wouldn¡¯t end well. So, I would wait, bide my time until I discovered what secrets their family held.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see it like a used to, now. I¡¯d rather be prepared,¡± I said to all of them.

    Bartley, Shelta, and Sarah all nodded to Carter. It looked like they agreed with him. I didn¡¯t realize it at first, but he was getting the approval from the whole family to let me into their world. Well, he was getting permission from the older members. I guess Frank and Wayland were already on board.

    Eleanor spoke up, ¡°That¡¯s enough shop talk for now. Let¡¯s eat before it all gets too cold,¡± she said, waving her hands to the food between us all. Frank was still eating and he never had stopped the whole time.

    Everyone else abided. The food was passed up and down the table, twice, and everyone dug in. I mostly sat in silence, trying to decide what food to put on my plate now that it had grown so foreign to me. I could still eat and digest like normal, but I didn¡¯t have too. Whatever the beast consumed when it was ripping someone to shreds, always satiated any hunger or thirst I had. Anything I ate or drank now was purely for my own tastes, not for nutrients. I like things that are really salty or sweet, one extreme or the other.

    The meat was the only thing I knew I could get down, so I put a few pieces of smoked brisket on my plate. Then I put a few small items on there just for show.

    The next part was hard. They wanted to get to know me.

    ¡°So, Sam¡­¡± Clara spoke, ¡°Is St. Louis, where you grew up?¡±

    ¡°No, actually, I was born in Texas.¡± I never thought anyone could make connections to a dead man from over two years ago, seeing as how I was sitting in front of them, alive.

    ¡°Really,¡± Eleanor joined in, ¡°you don¡¯t have an accent.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I ever really did. Whatever I had, I lost when I moved. After high school, I got a job at a construction company and went wherever they sent me.¡±

    I kept my occupation in the same realm. I stuck to what I knew, just in case anyone asked any specifics. This way, I would know what I was talking about.

    ¡°It shows,¡± Frank added.

    I was pretty stout even before I was turned, but after I was changed, my human body grew in massive strides. I probably weighed about two-twenty, solid muscle. In my normal human form, I was far more potent than any man, or monster so far. That vampire didn¡¯t feel any different under my power than any of the human criminals I had killed.

    Maybe it was the silver bomb. Carter had said that it was a poison to them. However, my monster was another story. My strength was immense, bestial, and unstoppable. I never knew of anything that could match it.

    I could see Autumn peering through the corner of her eye, looking for herself to see what Frank meant. Her eyes ran up my arms, my chest, and then to my face. She glanced away quickly, trying not to be seen as I glanced to that side of the table.

    It made me feel good. The possibilities whirled in my mind¡­

    What was I doing? I knew I couldn¡¯t have anything like that. It was all of the time I had spent by myself starting to get to me. I had to snap out of it or get out of there.

    ¡°How old are you, Sam?¡± Carter asked.

    ¡°Twenty-five,¡± I said.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re just a few years older than Autumn and Patrick. They¡¯re both 23. They go to St. Louis University.¡±

    Autumn was still looking down, a slight shade of red that was likely unnoticeable by anyone except me. I focused my hearing on her heartbeat. It was pulsing at a quick tempo. Was it still from the embarrassment of being caught looking at me, or was it something else? Fear maybe? But how could she know anything about me?

    Patrick¡¯s heartbeat was also erratic. I knew why he was distressed. He didn¡¯t like me, especially now that he knew I was close to the same age as he and Autumn were. He thought I was just another guy. More competition.

    Then I realized that these two families couldn¡¯t actually be related. Yet, they seemed so close, like a family would be. Perhaps it was built around the hunt. Friends that were so close they joined together as a family, with no real blood ties.

    We made small talk, they asked pretty specific questions about my life, but I just stuck to the script. I modified whatever I had to, to keep it believable, but it all went off without a hitch. I was monitoring their heartbeats as we spoke, determining if my lies were suspected of being just that. No one seemed to notice. I had to give myself props again. I was a pretty good liar.

    They were friendly, caring, and kind. They welcomed me into their home the very night they had met me. Feelings I hadn¡¯t felt in a long time were crawling out of the dark corners of my soul, where they had taken refuge. I never felt this way anymore: accepted, liked, and wanted. They did want me there, even if at the moment it was just to be another hunter.

    We had all finished eating, and the Wicklow family was gathering their belongings and headed out the side door. I shook Bartley, Shelta, and Sarah¡¯s hands. Patrick wasn¡¯t with them. He was around the corner, near the front door that was on the edge of the living room.

    Autumn and Patrick had gotten up from the table a few minutes before everyone else. They were having a conversation near the door, and it didn¡¯t look like Patrick was happy. Autumn looked like she didn¡¯t want to deal with whatever was going on, but she tried to listen. I tried not to eavesdrop on them. For some reason, I felt like I should give her privacy. Whatever argument they were having didn¡¯t seem pertinent to why I was ultimately hiding among them.

    ¡°It was very nice to meet you, Sam. We are all very much looking forward to getting to know you more,¡± Shelta said, although her eyes still seemed far off.

    ¡°Thank you. I appreciate it.¡± I said, seeming as regular as the next guy.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing. If Carter thinks you¡¯re worth bringing home, then so do we,¡± Sarah added beside Shelta.

    Bartley just nodded and agreed. He didn¡¯t seem like a big talker. He would speak if he had something important to say.

    I nodded. We said goodbye, and they all left through the front door. Patrick trailed out last after having an awkward-looking moment with Autumn. I wasn¡¯t fully paying attention to them, but I think there was a small argument. She was looking down, shaking her head while he spoke to her with a desperate strain on his face. He left in a huff and closed the door a little too hard behind him.

    Autumn looked annoyed and paced off to the other side of the house. I turned my hearing to track her movements. She bounded up the stairs and turned left, walking all the way across the second floor. She entered a room and slapped the door shut. I heard her bed frame squeak as she threw herself onto it. She seemed annoyed with Patrick for whatever they had talked about. I wished I would have listened in.

    Why did I think about these things? I had to stop it. I couldn¡¯t have these things; I couldn¡¯t have a family. I¡¯m a monster. I¡¯d kill them. I had to remember that I¡¯d left these things behind. I needed to just stay focused and look for answers.

    Carter was talking to the rest of the Chasse family while I was saying goodbye to the Wicklow family. Once they had left, he showed up at my side.

    ¡°Follow me. I want to show you something,¡± Carter said, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

    I walked across their dark wood floor, the faint creak of the boards beneath my feet the only sound in the quiet house. We descended a flight of stairs opposite the carpeted ones Autumn had run up earlier. The darkness at the bottom of the stairs seemed to swallow us whole, and my eyes strained to adjust, instinctively wanting to shift to see in the dark. I fought the urge, knowing I couldn¡¯t let my eyes turn black in front of Carter. He¡¯d probably try to impale me on the spot.

    Carter reached for a switch and flicked it on, flooding the room with harsh, artificial light. My breath caught in my throat. This wasn¡¯t just a room; it was an armory. Metal cages lined the walls, brimming with guns, ammo, knives, swords, bows, crossbows, and an array of lethal trinkets designed for killing. The sheer volume and variety of weapons were staggering, a testament to a relentless preparedness. Not at all what I was expecting.

    Each wall was fitted with workbenches, meticulously organized for assembling, disassembling, and maintaining the massive stockpile. A large section of the floor was covered in wrestling mats, stained from countless training sessions. Nearby, a series of machines and free weights were arranged with military precision, their surfaces gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It looked like something out of an action movie, not a suburban household.

    Carter walked ahead, the confidence in his stride suggesting this was his domain. I trailed behind, my mind racing. This was more than just a collection of weapons. This was a war room, a place where battles were planned and executed. It was where they trained to fight monsters.

    ¡°Impressive, isn¡¯t it?¡± Carter¡¯s voice broke the silence, his pride evident.

    ¡°Good Lord,¡± I laughed in surprise. ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied, my voice barely above a whisper as I pretended to be an impressed human with no fighting experience. ¡°Impressive and terrifying.¡±

    Carter chuckled. ¡°It needs to be. We¡¯re not dealing with ordinary threats.¡±

    As he spoke, I wandered further into the room, my fingers grazing the cold steel of a crossbow. The sheer variety of weapons was overwhelming, each one meticulously maintained and ready for use. I could feel the weight of their purpose, the silent promise of violence they carried.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a fortress down here. How long have you been doing this?¡±

    ¡°Long enough,¡± he said, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of nostalgia and resolve. ¡°We¡¯ve seen things you wouldn¡¯t believe, faced creatures that would make most people piss their pants and run in terror.¡±

    My mind flashed back to the vampires earlier, their menacing presence still fresh in my memory. ¡°I believe you,¡± I said, understanding how they would be absolutely lethal to normal human beings.

    He laughed.

    Frank and Wayland were coming down just moments later.

    ¡°It¡¯s quite impressive, isn¡¯t it?¡± Wayland actually spoke aloud.

    ¡°Oh yeah¡­ you could definitely say that. I¡¯ve never seen so many guns in the same place.¡±

    Frank had brought the gear from the Suburban. He laid it out on a small workbench on the side of the room for cleaning.

    ¡°This is where we train, where we plan,¡± he chuckled, ¡°and obviously where we keep the guns.¡± Carter looked across the room to the end of their small firing range, in the far-left corner of the room. There was a massive steel door that was embedded in the concrete wall. He continued, ¡°And, that is our holding cell. Sometimes we bring things back here, to interrogate.¡±

    ¡°Interrogate vampires?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Anything,¡± he stated. He led us to the massive door and, after unbolting it, cracked it open. Its hinges squealed every inch it opened.

    I could tell that the room was directly underneath their garage. I walked in to find two massive cells. It was one big cell, but there was a wall of bars splitting the middle.

    ¡°The cell is constructed with silver. It keeps creatures disoriented, and under control. They¡¯re too weak to fight back or escape. They can¡¯t even touch the bars. If we can get them here, they have no way to leave. We have to use this sometimes until we can get the information we need.¡±

    I didn¡¯t feel anything back at the warehouse when they set off the silver bomb or when I held the blade, and I didn¡¯t feel anything now.

    ¡°So, silver affects all monsters, then?¡± I asked, eyeing the metal cage.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Frank answered. ¡°It¡¯s the best weapon we got against em¡¯.¡±

    Interesting, because I felt fine. I wondered what would happen if I touched the bar. I hadn¡¯t seemed to be affected up to that point¡­ Why not?

    I reached out and grabbed one of the bars. My heart jumped as I touched the cold metal. But, as I thought, I was fine. Why was I different? If I was a monster, then why didn¡¯t their universal weakness apply to me?

    ¡°Well, at least now we know you¡¯re no monster,¡± Frank laughed, slapping my back again.

    I looked back at the three; they were all smirking. I laughed with them, only I was laughing at the irony. If only they knew.

    We finished the quick tour and headed back upstairs. Once again, on the main floor, I could see all the way through their houses humongous open floor plan, in between the few structural walls that were standing. I heard the buzz of talking coming from the television.

    As I glanced across the open space into the living room, my gaze landed on Autumn sitting on the couch. She had changed clothes since dinner, where she¡¯d worn jeans and a purple shirt. Now, she was dressed in white and grey workout leggings that hugged her form and a snug black tank top. The casual attire accentuated her figure, and I noticed the straps of her bra slipping down her left shoulder, revealing a glimpse of her skin.

    My pulse quickened, the monster within me stirring with an unsettling mix of desire and restraint. I had long struggled to keep these urges in check, to suppress the primitive instincts that lurked beneath the surface. The sight of Autumn in her comfortable, yet revealing outfit sent a jolt through me, and the rush of emotions was both disconcerting and alluring.

    Frank and Wayland had stopped in the living room, their conversation low and indistinct as Carter led me away. We moved through the house, Carter¡¯s footsteps echoing in the quiet corridors. As I passed by Autumn on the couch, she turned towards me, her smile warm and inviting. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent waves of conflicting feelings crashing through me.

    The emotions that surged within me were difficult to articulate, a chaotic blend of yearning and confusion. They were emotions I had long tried to bury, to deny, and yet here they were, surfacing with an intensity I hadn''t anticipated. Each moment I spent in their presence seemed to intensify my internal struggle, blurring the line between what I wanted and what I had sworn to resist.

    I fought to push back the tidal wave of feelings, to maintain a fa?ade of normalcy. But as I looked at Autumn¡¯s smile, I could feel my control slipping. My attempts to appear composed felt increasingly futile. My heart raced, my thoughts scattered, and the more I tried to suppress the rush of emotions, the more they seemed to take hold of me.

    Carter led me into a small library on the other side of the house, a quiet refuge from the throbbing tension of the living room. The room was lined with bookshelves, their dark wood contrasting with the soft, ambient light that filtered through the windows. Yet, even as the surroundings offered a semblance of calm, the turmoil inside me remained unrelenting.

    I couldn¡¯t escape the feeling that something had shifted, that the normal barriers I had erected were beginning to crumble. The line between control and surrender was becoming increasingly blurred, and I struggled to navigate the fragile balance between them.

    As we came into the library, Carter asked, ¡°Are you alright? You seem¡­ stressed.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t okay. This was more than I should have allowed myself for one night. Autumn was too much of a temptation. I hadn¡¯t seen this coming. The things I thought when I looked at her were¡­ not right. Not for me, anyway. Not anymore.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­ it just,¡± I couldn¡¯t even talk right. I was so distracted by the chaos that raged in my mind.

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot to take in, I know. I guess I¡¯ve flooded you with too much already. You just seemed to be taking it all with stride before.¡±

    I steadied my thought. Turned back into the cold, numb person I had to be. If I felt nothing, I could maintain. I just shut it all out and went blank.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. It¡¯s just a lot to accept,¡± I played the human as best I could.

    ¡°That¡¯s understandable. For tonight, I can drive you home and give you some time to think,¡± Carter offered. ¡°And then when you¡¯re ready, if you still want to know more, you are welcome to come back.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Alright.¡± It was probably for the best.

    Carter and I slipped out of the library and back down the hall that led to the garage. My resolve slipped, and I took one more agonizing look at Autumn. I could only see the back of her head as she flipped through channels on the television, her dark brown hair that I could smell from across the room. I wanted to go back, but I knew I had to leave.

    We snuck quietly into the garage, and he jumped into the driver¡¯s seat of his black SUV. I quickly pulled myself into the passenger seat before my senses picked up on anything else that would weaken my will to leave. It was too much, all of them. Being around that many beating hearts for too long made me weak, weaker than usual. I couldn¡¯t explain to myself what was happening. I thought I knew what I was doing.

    We pulled out of the garage and onto the street. As we pulled forward, I could see the blinds of the front windows spread as Frank, Wayland, and Autumn heard us leaving. I wondered what they thought of me. I wondered what she thought about my quick exit.

    I had to stop while I was ahead.

    ¡°So, where am I going?¡± Carter asked.

    Think¡­ think. ¡°I live down near Soulard, close to downtown.¡±

    This was good. I knew the traffic would be crazy downtown at this hour. The nightlife never stopped on the weekends. I could get him to let me out and act like I would walk the rest of the way. But, since I was in the car with him, I wanted to try and get some information.

    I thought about my wording as we rode in silence.

    ¡°So, you said that you put ¡®anything¡¯ into your cells. What else is there besides vampires?¡± I asked.

    He was quiet for a moment, probably trying to figure out the best way to word his answer without scaring me off from a life of hunting. I tried to contain my smirk.

    ¡°My family has fought all kinds of creatures over the years. There are too many to just tell you, but we keep records. There are records from before I was ever born. Anytime we face something unusual, we always check our family history. Most of the time we¡¯ll find something, but there have been a few times that I¡¯ve added new entries,¡± he explained. ¡°So, I can¡¯t tell you what all is out there, but I can show you our books. We call them bestiaries.¡±

    I nodded, noting that piece of information. I wondered what all his family had seen.

    ¡°Usually, the things that we encounter are vampires. They are easily created, and they have one food source that presents a big problem for us. Blood.¡±

    ¡°So, there are a lot of them out there?¡±

    ¡°Actually, those three that we killed tonight were the first we have had to fight in a couple of months. The vampires we usually hunt are young ones that get careless and leave a mess behind. Once they leave a trail, we can track them,¡± he said with confidence. ¡°We actually have something we are starting to look into now, but we¡¯ll see what that turns into.¡±

    Curiosity was digging into me.

    ¡°What are a few other things you¡¯ve seen?¡±

    He continued making his way downtown as we talked, ¡°I¡¯ve fought bone-eaters, wendigo¡­¡±

    I cut him off, ¡°What¡¯s a wendigo?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a cannibalistic creature. They¡¯re pretty big and covered in white hair, usually soaked in blood. Nasty fuckers!¡± he almost spit. ¡°They tend to live in forests, mostly alone. Wendigos used to be human, but they tasted human flesh too many times. There is a kind of blood ritual that requires consuming human hearts, that turns one into a full wendigo,¡± he explained.

    ¡°Ritual?¡± I asked perplexed.

    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t ask me how it works, though. There is always a shrine of human body parts somewhere near a Wendigo den, where they turned themselves.¡±

    ¡°Who does that to themselves?¡± I asked, confused. I couldn¡¯t understand how someone would want to be a monster like that.

    ¡°They don¡¯t fully realize what they are becoming, or they think it is only bringing them greater power, not making them lose themselves in the process. Sometimes, people that turn into wendigos don¡¯t realize what they are doing. When someone has tasted another human¡¯s flesh too many times, a deep primal instinct takes over. Then it¡¯s the ancient, animalistic part that drives them to complete their shrine and to turn completely.¡±

    What in the fuck? Dude that is seriously fucked up. Choosing that shit over a normal life¡­ I didn¡¯t get it. I shook my head mentally but tried to remain cool in front of Carter.

    ¡°So¡­ they can turn into this monster whenever they want?¡± I was growing worried that this was soon to be my fate. Maybe I just hadn¡¯t eaten enough flesh yet. This was worse than anything I could have imagined. I would turn into some mindless cannibal.

    ¡°No. Once they turn, they can never come back. They are a full monster, never able to retake human form.¡±

    Thank God. The relief was almost physical. I could feel all my muscles relax out of the clench that they had flexed into.

    We came to a stop. A bright red stoplight had halted the traffic right in the downtown area. This was my chance to bail.

    ¡°It¡¯s not far from here. I can just walk the rest of the way. I know the lights can be a nightmare down here,¡± I said, taking off my seatbelt and opening the door.

    ¡°Are you sure? It¡¯s really not a problem.¡±

    ¡°Really, I¡¯m close by. I¡¯ll be there in like two minutes.¡±

    He pulled out a piece of paper, wrote down some numbers, and handed it to me.

    ¡°Here¡¯s my number. Take your time, process all of this, and call me when you¡¯re ready. Or stop by if you can remember how to get back,¡± he said.

    ¡°I will.¡± I pocketed the paper.

    He nodded, ¡°Be safe, Sam. Have a good night.¡±

    I shut the door as the light turned green and he drove off with the traffic.

    Finally, I was free. I took a long deep breath as I stepped back into the darkness and shadow. Then, I took off running, trying to get away from the populated area. I had to get somewhere safe. The beast wanted out, and I didn¡¯t think I could stop now that there were no innocents for me to protect, from myself.

 Chapter 8 - Backtracking

    I found myself back in the lot behind the abandoned warehouse, a place where a vicious showdown took place only hours earlier. The purpose of my return was morbidly curious: to examine the bodies, to get a closer look at the vampires. The brush crunched underfoot as I made my way to the pile of the dead... or undead, rather. It was all so surreal. Not strange, per se, but definitely unsettling to acknowledge aloud. I had always known I was a monster, but vampires were the stuff of films and grocery store romance novels. Accepting their reality was another level of bizarre.

    There was a time when I thought I might be one of them. The need for the kill, unsure of how exactly my beast was sustained. The idea left my mind when I obviously noticed how effortlessly I moved through daylight. Back then, I didn''t fully understand the rules, but it turned out my daylight wanderings were evidence enough. At least that¡¯s what I¡¯d find out for certain here shortly.

    The three bodies lay exactly where we had left them, slumped beneath a small, gnarled tree. They were just waiting for the sun to rise, waiting to be incinerated out of existence. At least, that¡¯s what the hunters had assured me. But I wanted to witness it myself.

    As I approached, the scent of the bodies hit me¡ªa concentrated, sickly sweet amalgamation of countless blood sources. It was overwhelming. In that moment, I felt as though I was surrounded not by three bodies, but by a host of restless spirits, each one a ghost tethered to the remains before me.

    I looked at the woman who lay like a statue. I pulled her frozen lips back to look at her teeth. Just as I thought, her fangs were still protruding. I compared them to what I remembered mine looking like from the reflections I saw of myself as the monster. They were shorter, which was no real surprise, I guess. I was a lot bigger than any normal man, woman, or vampire once I transformed. I was a colossal, dark grey mountain of dense muscle and tissue. I stood ready to maul and massacre anyone with massive talons and fangs.

    I pulled open her eyelids. Her irises had lost their crimson hue, but the whites of her eyes were still bloodshot. She had green human eyes. I wondered what she was like as a human, how old she was when she was turned?

    Then, I realized that I didn¡¯t ask one of the questions that I had been thinking about the whole time I was with the hunters. Were vampires immortal? That¡¯s what all the movies and books said.

    I stood up from my crouching examination and was about to take a look at the other two and compare their features to hers. But, I was interrupted when I heard a metal clicking noise. It was the same clicking that I had heard earlier when I was there for the first time. I turned around to the clicking, unafraid.

    "Hello," a voice slithered through the thick silence, a man leaning nonchalantly against a tree. His eyes glinted with an unsettling curiosity as I examined the bodies.

    He reeked of the same potent, cloying blood scent as the others. A vampire the hunters had missed. Tall and slender, with dark hair and a narrow face, he couldn¡¯t have weighed more than a hundred and sixty pounds.

    He must have been hiding in the warehouse, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment. And he had seen everything, including his friends¡¯ demise.

    In his right hand, he toyed with two small metal balls, rotating them around each other in a rhythmic dance. Every few turns, he clacked them together, producing the sound I had heard earlier that night. He had been there all along, watching.

    "Hello," I replied, my voice steady but filled with underlying tension.

    "Where are your friends?" he asked, his lips curling into an arrogant grin, as if he held all the cards.

    "Oh, don''t worry about them," I said, my tone laced with a hidden threat. I tried to mirror his smug smile, but my need to transform and kill, fueled by the night''s gruesome events, simmered just beneath the surface.

    He chuckled, a chilling sound that echoed through the night.

    "Oh, I''m not," he said with eerie calm. "Not yet, anyway. I''ll pay them a visit after I finish with you."

    Fear for my new friends pierced my mind like a stray bullet. He noticed.

    "I followed you after you all left," he said, his tone disturbingly casual. "You piqued my interest. Most people are afraid of us, even at first glance. It¡¯s a subconscious pull we have on your kind."

    My kind? Oh... he meant human.

    "We are always looking out for hunters , but I wanted to see if you were worth the effort. Turns out, I was right. You are strange. I lost you for a while, not sure how that happened, but I followed your scent and, even stranger, you came back here... alone. Very unusual, and quite the error in judgment," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "No matter. I''ll make this quick before the sun rises, and then I''ll wait to kill your friends tomorrow night."

    His words hung in the air like a death sentence, the casual cruelty sending a chill down my spine. The night seemed to grow darker around us, the shadows deeper, as if they were closing in, urging me to act. He stepped closer, the metal balls in his hand clacking rhythmically, a sound that now felt like the ticking of a countdown clock. Each step he took exuded a predatory grace, his eyes never leaving mine.

    I could feel his gaze, cold and penetrating, as if he could see right through to my core. He was enjoying this, savoring the anticipation of the kill. The air between us crackled with tension. I knew how this would usually go, what he expected. My heart should pound in my chest, a drumbeat of impending doom. He was trying to toy with me, like a cat playing with a mouse, and the realization would send a wave of anger through me. There was just one problem¡­ none of that was happening. I was too focused on what he could do to the Chasse family.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    I pictured it, him busting into the Chasse¡¯s house, rampaging through like an unstoppable killer. I imagined him ripping Carter¡¯s throat out, snapping Frank¡¯s neck, and drinking Eleanor¡¯s blood. I saw Autumn running up the stairs with Delilah, hiding underneath her squeaky bed frame, terrified. I saw him finding and overpowering her, forcing her against the wall as he sucked the blood from her gushing throat.

    No, I wouldn¡¯t let that happen to her. I had to see her again. I knew it was wrong of me to think that, but, at the moment, I didn¡¯t care. I kept imagining the scenario. Then, he would turn on the little innocent Delilah.

    The emotions Delilah brought out in me, the thoughts that I kept locked away, deep in the bowels of my being, fought to get out again. The things I couldn¡¯t think about, but also the things that drove me, made me want to slaughter this creature without hesitation. The change started to grip me.

    ¡°No,¡± I said in a low, deep voice.

    ¡°No, you say? But I¡¯ve made up my mind, and who is going to stop me once I¡¯ve made up my mind? Besides, your friends killed my friends, so now I kill them,¡± he said like it was only fair.

    ¡°You¡¯ll never make it there,¡± I told them.

    He cocked his head to the side. Unsure of why I was so confident.

    ¡°Why is that, human?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just it,¡± I said, my eyes turning into black voids, my voice deepening into a low rumble, ¡°I¡¯m not human.¡±

    My body twisted and cracked, grew, and hardened. My skin darkened into the deep grey flesh. The only other thing in nature that shared the same hue as my skin was the darkest of storm clouds.

    The vampire watched in confusion, but rested on his heels, ready to run at a moment¡¯s notice. He was too confident and too intrigued to run away like he should have. It was quite the error in judgment.

    I laughed a monstrous chuckle at that last part.

    My fangs shifted and set into place as my black talons ripped out of my hands. My muscles locked into place. The change was complete.

    He was a shorter man now. After the change, I was even bigger compared to him. He didn¡¯t know what to do as he looked upon the hulking creature that stood in the shadows before him. I recognized the look on his face. It was the same look I had seen on countless criminal¡¯s faces, right before I killed them. It was a look of terror and uncertainty. He had no clue what I was.

    I sprang forward, running as wild and fast as this body would allow. I smashed into the small man with tremendous force. He tried to brace himself and lean into me with all his strength, but it didn¡¯t deter me a single bit. I heard bones snap the moment I touched him. He flew back about fifteen feet until his back met a large oak tree. More bones crushed and splintered under his skin. He ricocheted off the tree and flew another five feet through the cold air.

    I didn¡¯t leave any second open for him. I was already running to him. I grabbed him by the throat only seconds after he hit the ground. He hadn¡¯t even got another breath in yet. I held him off the ground, so he was level with my fanged face. Terror gripped this so called predator of the night.

    ¡°What am I?¡± I asked. I spoke slowly, hoping his mental faculties were still functioning.

    He scrambled over thoughts as my grip cinched down more and more on his throat. He gasped at the pain, unable to form full sentences.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± he finally got out. People were so honest when they felt death¡¯s cold grasp reaching for them.

    No answers. Useless.

    I spoke in my deep throaty voice that accompanied this form, and I said the same thing I said a few moments before, ¡°You¡¯ll never make it there!¡±

    I reared back with my free hand, feeling the raw power coursing through my veins, and with one savage motion, I drove my claws, sharp as razors, through his chest. Flesh and bone yielded to my assault, tearing apart with a sickening crunch. His eyes widened in shock and pain, then rolled back into his skull as the undead creature died... again.

    His shredded heart, now a ruined mass of tissue and blood, oozed in my grasp. The viscous warmth of it coated my clawed hand, dripping down in thick, dark rivulets. His body, devoid of any remaining spark of life, went limp, sagging against my hold like a grotesque marionette whose strings had been violently severed.

    Blood poured from the gaping wound in his chest, pooling at my feet, the metallic scent of it mingling with the night air. The scene was a macabre mishmash of corpses, painted in crimson and shadow. The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by the slow, steady drip of blood from my claws.

    I carried his body over to the pile of vampires from earlier. I threw him like a ragdoll and left his corpse beside his friends.

    I walked off a few feet and willed my human mind to come back. I felt my body pulling itself back together. My skin returned to its standard color as I shrunk back down. My ligaments and joints popped and snapped back into place, muscles compacted, and fangs receded. I was me again, but my clothes were tatters.

    I stayed there for a while, thinking, and calming myself. I couldn¡¯t get the images I had created out of my head for a while. I just sat on the ground and tried to relaxed. I hated seeing my new friends being killed, even if it was just a fake reality I had concocted in my mind.

    I was stronger than these vampires, I now knew for sure. My strength was much deeper than the blood-feeding monsters. I could feel their power. The resistance was noticeably more robust than the humans I slaughtered, but not enough to matter to me. He was just as defenseless to me as they were. I wondered if they were all this impotent, or maybe there were stronger ones.

    The sun was coming up finally, and I didn¡¯t even notice it until I heard strange noises behind me. I turned to see the bodies smoldering, cracking and popping like wood on the fire. They were smoking like coals when you try to douse a fire with water. I could see embers glowing beneath their skin, their insides burning first. It resembled a fire being put out but in reverse. Suddenly, they all ignited in a nightmarish blaze. Flames erupted violently, their malevolent tongues twisting and writhing as they climbed into the air. A monstrous column of fire shot up into the trees, devouring branches and turning them to blackened, skeletal remains. The roar of the inferno was deafening, a chorus of destruction that drowned out all other sound. Within a few agonizing seconds, they were gone, consumed by the darkness of the flames, leaving only a grim silence and the acrid scent of death hanging in the air.

    I was actually surprised. Carter told me this would happen, but seeing it was unreal. Even the blood on the ground was gone, burnt away like gunpowder. It was a good thing that I cleaned the blood off of my arms when I changed back. I wondered what would have happened. Maybe it was a bigger reaction since all the bodies were piled together.

    I stood from my resting place, content with my new friends¡¯ safety.

    I took a deep breath and then bounded off in a sprint of inhuman speed through the trees. I had to get back to the factory. Back to my lonely, desolate exile.

 Chapter 9 - Discoveries

    My transformation had torn my outfit to shreds, leaving me half-naked and bloodied after the violent encounter with the mysterious fourth vampire. As I made my way back to the abandoned factory, I unhappily admitted I needed new clothes to replace the tatters I wore. I couldn''t risk looking like a vagrant, especially with new friends I was trying to seem normal around. What if I stumbled upon them again? Spotting a large department store in a different part of the city, I slipped into the alley behind it. The metal door yielded easily under the force of my shoulder, the hinges protesting loudly in the early morning hours.

    Inside, the store was dimly lit, the only sound the hum of a few fluorescent lights. I moved quickly through the aisles, grabbing shirts, jackets, and a pair of sturdy jeans. A pang of guilt stabbed at me briefly, but I brushed it aside. There were bigger issues at hand than petty theft.

    Back at the factory, I headed straight to the small washroom I had made. The water ran rusty at first, then clear, and I washed the blood and grime from my skin. The confines of the shower was a rare comfort, a brief moment of normalcy. I watched as the water swirled down the drain, tinged pink from the vampire''s blood, and thought about how I used to feel guilty about taking what wasn''t mine. But now, survival trumped all other concerns. Even survival of my fake persona I had put on for the humans.

    After drying off, I slipped into the new clothes, the fabric clean and soft against my skin. I even took the time to shave, scraping away the stubble that had grown during my recent few days. My reflection in the cracked mirror looked almost human again, the lines of stress and fatigue temporarily softened. I needed to present myself well to Carter and his family. They had to see me as a normal person, not the creature that lurked in the shadows, hunting mauling people in the shadows.

    As I dressed, a fleeting thought of Vicky crossed my mind. I wondered what she would think if she saw me now. Would she recognize the person I had become, the sacrifices I had made? Shaking my head, I pushed the thought away. There was no room for such distractions.

    Carter had given me his cell phone number, but I had no phone to call him with. It was a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things, yet it felt like another hurdle in my path.

    He mentioned I could drop by their house since I had been there before, but the idea of showing up unannounced made me uneasy. What if they weren''t home? Standing on their doorstep like a lost dog seemed far too desperate. If Carter thought I was human, he might be testing me. Seeing if I could have enough presence of mind to have stayed observant and remembered the path to and from his house, even in the dead of night. A test I could easily pass. But, maybe it was best to wait until I got a phone. Until then, I would lay low, blend in, and avoid attracting attention. The hunters were out there, and I needed to stay one step ahead of them if I was to keep my ruse. One slip and they¡¯d start asking questions. Or worse, they¡¯d try to kill me. That wouldn¡¯t end well.

    I paced the stale-smelling confines of the forgotten structure, my mind churning with indecision. The factory''s air was thick with dust, and the echoes of my footsteps echoed off the crumbling walls. Finally, I made up my mind. I would go to Carter¡¯s. I could recall every twist and turn of the route we had taken, each intersection etched in my memory. Navigating my way there wouldn''t be an issue.

    The real problem was figuring out how to reach the destination without drawing unwanted attention. It was only nine in the morning, and the streets were already bustling with people starting their day. Running out in the open was out of the question. I considered the underground tunnels but quickly dismissed the idea. The stench that clung to those passages was intolerable, and I didn¡¯t want it lingering on my freshly acquired clothes right as I meet them.

    I decided to move through the shadows, sticking to the cover provided by trees, alleys, and other hidden nooks of the city. The urban maze offered numerous concealed routes where I could move swiftly and unnoticed. In the relative safety of these hidden pathways, I could run without the prying eyes of curious humans.

    Despite the cover, I knew I had to be cautious. The hunters were relentless and always on the lookout. I had to stay one step ahead. What if there were others that I didn¡¯t even know about yet?

    As I slipped out of the factory, the early morning sunlight cast long shadows, creating perfect pockets of darkness for me to navigate through. I moved with purpose, blending into the urban landscape, a ghost flitting from one hiding spot to another.

    The trees provided a natural canopy, their leaves whispering secrets in the gentle breeze as I dashed beneath them. The alleys, with their high walls and narrow confines, offered a different kind of security. Here, I could move like a phantom, slipping from one darkened corner to the next. Each step brought me closer to Carter¡¯s home, my senses on high alert for any sign of a witness.

    The journey was a delicate balance of speed and stealth. I had to reach my destination without leaving a trace. With every careful step, I drew closer to the answers I sought, the hidden paths leading me to the next chapter of my perilous journey. I was on a mission, so I didn¡¯t stop for anything. No hunting, no stalking, no kills¡­ nothing. I kept walking until I had finally found the turn off for the road that they lived on. I retraced my memories and ended my walk at the doorstep of the Chasse home.

    The house was exactly as I remembered it; enormous, well maintained, sprawling yards that surrounded its entirety. It was perfect for their lifestyle. Not too many prying eyes.

    I was a little hesitant as I raised my fist to knock on one of the hefty double doors mounted to the front of their house. I took a long calming breath and then just went for it. I banged my knuckles against the solid oak, trying not to blow a hole through the door, I was so nervous.

    I heard a pair of quiet feet lower from a chair in their kitchen and walk carefully to the front door. They stopped a few feet away from the entrance and stood in place. I heard something being shuffled around, followed by a quick snap. The feet continued stepping towards the door.

    I saw fingers poke around the curtains and spread them out far enough to see who was knocking. I saw a quick flash of brown eyes, the same ones I kept looking into just a few hours earlier. It was Autumn. I heard her toss something away, out of sight, and then turn over the deadbolts.

    She pulled open the door quickly and immediately apologized, ¡°I am so sorry, Sam. I didn¡¯t know it was you.¡± Her eyes seemed stressed but promptly relaxed.

    She said my name. She remembered it. She looked at me, and I was entranced. Her face almost held a hypnotic spell that sedated me when I looked at her. I had to remember to speak back to her.

    ¡°No¡­ no, it¡¯s my fault. I¡¯m sorry. I should have called first,¡± I apologized.

    I took in her scent. She smelled fresh, clean like she had just gotten out of the shower. Her hair was still damp, making it even darker than I remembered. I could smell her like I was holding her down, our bodies touching, and my mouth against her throat. That thought lingered through my mind for too long.

    ¡°My dad told us that you might come back on your own, so really, it¡¯s no problem,¡± she assured, honestly smiling at me. ¡°Does this mean you want to know more?¡± she asked eagerly.

    I was nervous as I talked to her for the first real time. I glanced at her figure and clothes. She had on a snug pair of jeans and a loose-fitting green button up top. It was hard to not look her up and down while she stared at me.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I mean, I guess. I wanted to talk to Carter again. Is he here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, he and my mom left a little while ago to go run an errand. They should be back soon. You can stay until they get back,¡± she offered.

    ¡°Yeah sure, thank you,¡± I answered.

    Suddenly, she turned around and walked back into the house, completely unannounced. I just assumed she was going back to whatever she was doing before while I waited outside for Carter. She had no reason to want to be around me, so I didn¡¯t overthink it. Plus, I didn¡¯t want to crowd her. She had only just met me, so I¡¯d give her space. It felt the normal thing to do. I stepped back down off the porch and leaned against the stone support that sprouted out a wooden beam for their large gable.

    I heard her light, quick footsteps coming out again, ¡°Sam¡­ what are you doing?¡± her lips curling up in the corners. She was amused.

    ¡°Waiting,¡± I said, confused.

    ¡°Outside?¡± she laughed

    ¡°Yes¡­¡±

    ¡°You can come inside, you know,¡± she teased.

    Why would she offer me this? She was all alone, she had no one to protect her, and she was inviting in a pure monster. What was she thinking?

    ¡°But¡­ you don¡¯t even know me. Why would you let me come inside?¡± I asked, still confused.

    ¡°My dad trusts you,¡± she said. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have offered you the chance to learn our family secrets if he didn¡¯t. He¡¯s a pretty good judge of character,¡± she added. ¡°Plus, I can take care of myself.¡± She flashed a wicked smile, convincing me that she could, just¡­ not from me.

    She stepped to the side and opened the way for me.

    ¡°Well, thank you.¡± I began walking up the stairs. What the fuck was I doing?

    ¡°Come in,¡± she waved me through. ¡°It really shouldn¡¯t be too long. They just went to go talk to the police, then they¡¯re supposed to come straight back,¡± she informed me.

    She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and started to dial a number.

    ¡°Police?¡± I asked. ¡°Do they know about this¡­ stuff?¡± I pointed around their house as I asked, gesturing to their secret world.

    She held the phone up to her ear as it rang, ¡°Not all of them. We have a few contacts in the human world that are in the loop,¡± she said. ¡°Please,¡± she pointed to the couch just inside of the living room, ¡°sit down. I¡¯ll call my dad and let him know you¡¯re here.¡±

    I sat down on the leather couch, where she sat the night before. She walked into the kitchen and started ruffling some papers around and closing some books. She must have been doing some work for her college classes. I could smell the trail she left behind her as she passed through the house. It was¡­ intoxicating.

    I shouldn¡¯t have gone there. I started to feel what the beast was already inching towards; the thoughts that I had been letting loose in my mind ever since I met her. They scrambled my mind all night since I saw her last.

    I struggled at that moment. I had to remain clear. I didn¡¯t leave my life behind just to get a new one. This was a life of exile, not some second chance at a family. I left my family, my friends, Vicky, Seth, I left¡­

    STOP! I screamed in my own mind. I couldn¡¯t think about everything I sacrificed. It was too hard. Just go numb¡­ just go numb.

    ¡°Dad,¡± I heard her say, ¡°Hey. Sam¡¯s here. He got here like two minutes ago.¡±

    There was a buzz in the speaker of the phone that I could hear if I focused, ¡°He is? Good, I hoped he would come back. What is he doing?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s just waiting inside with me.¡±

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked, concerned for his only daughter.

    ¡°Oh, come on, Dad. You know I¡¯m fine. I always have my silver blade on me, and besides, he¡¯s nice. He was going to wait outside,¡± she laughed again. ¡°I had to practically drag him inside the house.¡± She continued putting away her college books.

    More buzzing, ¡°I know you can take care of yourself. I just worry¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Dad,¡± she assured.

    ¡°Okay, take him into the library and show him one of the bestiaries until I get back. Call me if you need anything.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll see you when you get here.¡±

    ¡°Love you,¡± he said.

    ¡°Love you too,¡± she hung up after she spoke.

    She finished putting her things away in the kitchen, stuffing papers into books, and then books into a bag. Then she walked past the living room and into the study. She set her black, tactical looking bag down on the desk and scanned through the stacks with her hand for a book.

    I listened to her for a few moments, stepping slowly across the hardwood floor as she searched. I heard her place her hand on one and slide it out of the jam-packed shelf. Then she returned to the living room. She walked to the couch and eased down beside me, only a foot separating her skin and mine. She had a sizeable, black-bound book in her hands. We sat in silence for a moment as she flipped through the pages of the old tome. She seemed comfortable with space and in silence.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I looked around the room and saw a crossbow sitting on the far side of a coffee table, close to the front door. It had a bolt loaded and ready to fire. That must have been her stop on the way to the door. It was her protection. It was a massive, bulky weapon. It looked like it could hurl that bolt a couple hundred feet per second.

    I tilted my head toward the crossbow, ¡°Was I about to take one of those to the chest?¡±

    She looked at what I saw. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± she apologized again, laughing as her cheeks blushed. ¡°I guess I¡¯m just paranoid sometimes.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°No, don¡¯t be sorry. You never know what could be knocking at the door, I guess. Carter told me a few things last night that I couldn¡¯t believe,¡± I said. ¡°So, answering the door with a gigantic crossbow doesn¡¯t really seem too unreasonable.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± she chuckled.

    Making her laugh made me feel close to her. I shunned the thoughts.

    ¡°Hey¡­¡± she thought about her words, trying to find the right thing to say. ¡°I just wanted to apologize for last night.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean,¡± I asked. I stared into her dark brown eyes, the eyes that seemed innocent, but let off the faint truth of the hunter within. I couldn¡¯t understand her. She was perplexing.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t very polite at dinner. I didn¡¯t really speak to you at all or say goodbye when you left.¡± She grinned a little and winced, ¡°I was kind of a bitch.¡±

    ¡°No, no. I thought you and your whole family were very nice. You all let me just come in here and join you, no questions asked. I couldn¡¯t have asked to be treated any better,¡± I assured her.

    ¡°Well, good, I¡¯m glad you felt that way. I was just a little¡­ distracted,¡± she trailed off.

    I knew what she meant; Patrick and his desperate pleas. I was still unsure what exactly that was about, but I wouldn¡¯t ask.

    ¡°I thought you were fine,¡± I said quickly, slightly embarrassed with how much truth I was spilling. ¡°Anyways, we kind of snuck out at the end while no one was looking.¡±

    ¡°Still, I¡¯m sorry for not being a better host,¡± she said. ¡°Usually, I have better manners.¡±

    So, this was the real, unburdened Autumn. Whatever Patrick was doing last night was bringing her down, but this seemed to be her normal state. She was very courteous, funny, and kind. But really, I knew this to be only one facet of her persona. I could sense a fighter behind her soft eyes.

    She flipped open the books to a certain scrawl filled page. There were long paragraphs and hand-drawn depictions of strange-looking men, but I didn¡¯t want to get into this yet, so I kept asking the questions.

    ¡°So, why is Carter talking to the police? Do they have a tip for him, like last night?¡± I interrupted before she began to tell me about the book.

    She shook her head, ¡°No, we rarely talk with the police, only when our world bleeds into theirs. Sometimes they figure things out and don¡¯t know how to proceed. That¡¯s when our ¡®Detective¡¯ friend gives us a call,¡± she said. ¡°The tip we got about the vampires last night was actually from another vampire.¡±

    What did she mean? Why would a vampire tell hunters where to find other vampires?

    ¡°How does that work? Why would they help Carter? I mean, your dad?¡±

    ¡°We know a vampire that doesn¡¯t live like the rest of them. He gives us information when he can and tries to keep tabs on certain vampires, or even people, for us.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t believe it. The only four vampires I had ever met, all last night, only wanted to kill me. It didn¡¯t seem like any of them could live a different way. I guess there was a possibility. Just look at me.

    ¡°But, right now, our detective friend thinks he has some information that we might want to look into. So, that¡¯s where my parents are.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go with them,¡± I asked.

    ¡°My dad doesn¡¯t want to push the small amount of trust we have with this guy. He only talks to my parents. If I came, he might not be as talkative since he doesn¡¯t know me.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t imagine anyone not wanting to talk to her. I was just chatting away like an average person, like I wasn¡¯t a killer by night. I was shocked at how easy it was to be around a human and be able to act normally, without trying too hard not to swing my claws into someone¡¯s head.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s this?¡± I looked at the large, black book in her hands, finally ready to dive in.

    ¡°This is a bestiary. We use it to keep track of different kinds of creatures that we come across,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Yeah, your dad said something about this last night. He told me about¡­ wendigos,¡± I recalled the name.

    ¡°Wendigos? That¡¯s a strange one,¡± she spoke, furrowing her brow.

    ¡°He just named off a few different things, and I had never heard of that one before. So, he told me about them,¡± I explained.

    She had a sharp look of realization, ¡°I am so sorry,¡± she said. ¡°Can I get you anything to drink? Or eat?¡± she offered.

    ¡°Sure.¡± I had to think about what an average person would ask for, ¡°W-Water¡¯s fine.¡±

    She got up from the couch and paced into the kitchen. I arose and followed her silently, trying to maintain my distance so I wouldn¡¯t startle her.

    She opened a cabinet and pulled a glass from the shelf. She saw me enter the kitchen as she did, but she didn¡¯t think it unusual. She just continued. She ran the sink for a few seconds and then filled my glass. She placed it in front of me.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, really meaning the words. I didn¡¯t even think about it but I was falling into old habits. Old mindsets of normalcy. It felt good.

    ¡°Not a problem,¡± she replied as she flitted back to the cabinet.

    She grabbed another glass and then closed the cabinet door. She turned and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of dark red juice. I didn¡¯t see the name of it, but it smelled like cranberries. She filled her glass halfway and put the bottle back in.

    She spun towards me and asked, ¡°So¡­ what are you thinking?¡±

    I watched her sip on the juice, taking small tastes. The only things that I was thinking were about her. I wondered if¡­ if I was human, would I have a chance with her? She was beautiful, extraordinary, and one of a kind. Her hair danced around the edges of her face, putting off a scent that wouldn¡¯t leave my nostrils. Her physique was impressive for a human girl. She looked lean and powerful, but fast with her skinnier frame and tight muscles. She had to only weigh one-thirty, maybe one twenty. Her build was solid muscle. She had confidence hidden just behind her kind and generous personality.

    ¡°About what?¡± I asked.

    She laughed a boisterous laugh and smiled at me in a way that almost held a question. Her eyes seemed to look right into my soul. At least, that is what it felt like when she looked at me. I felt like she could see what I was. It was like there was no hiding from her all-seeing gaze.

    Why did I feel so paranoid around her?

    ¡°About all of this; vampires, wendigo¡­ the entire new side of the world you just learned about,¡± she said, bewildered that I couldn¡¯t realize what she obviously meant.

    ¡°Oh, that.¡±

    She smirked at my response. She couldn¡¯t understand how it wasn¡¯t a bigger deal for me. I had my own monster to deal with for the past two years, so the rest came easily for me.

    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s¡­ crazy. I guess I¡¯m still processing it all, but I¡¯m glad that I know,¡± I said.

    She laughed. ¡°Well, I will say that I have never seen anyone take it as well as you. Most people go through denial and refuse to believe, even if they actually see it first-hand. Some people just can¡¯t accept it. They don¡¯t stick around long¡­¡±

    ¡°How long have you known?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve known since I was thirteen. My parents wanted me to know what was out there so I could protect myself.¡±

    ¡°How did you take it?¡± I asked.

    She was serious for a moment, ¡°It was¡­ hard. Scary. I had to basically give up my friends once I knew. It¡¯s hard to keep friends when you are lying to them all the time.¡±

    I felt terrible for her as she spoke. I wanted her to have friends. More than anyone I had ever met, she would definitely be deserving of friends.

    ¡°I was scared in the beginning, and all I wanted to do was study and train. I wanted to know everything there was to know about monsters: how to fight them, their weaknesses, anything I could use against them.¡±

    ¡°Sounds tough,¡± I stated.

    She shook out of the old emotions that the thoughts brought up, ¡°Yeah, but everything has worked out. I wouldn¡¯t go back and change anything. I like who I am now.¡± Her honesty was pure. I knew she was talking about the warrior within.

    I liked who she was too. She was strong, mentally, emotionally, and physically. She was probably one of the strongest people I had ever met. I could only imagine how I would have reacted, at thirteen years old, if I found out about all of this. She was more durable than I probably would have been.

    ¡°So, I¡¯ve been wondering,¡± I said. ¡°How do you fight them? I saw Frank with a machete and Carter with a silver blade. Do you fight the same as them?¡± I asked. I couldn¡¯t picture her on the ground, toe to toe with an inhuman creature.

    ¡°I¡¯m long-range,¡± she smirked behind the glass of cranberry juice. ¡°I¡¯m good with bows¡­ crossbows,¡± she glanced at the loaded crossbow by the table. ¡°My parents had me in archery and sharpshooting since before I can even remember. I usually hang back and support the others from behind.¡± A devilish grin came across her face, ¡°But, sometimes I have to improvise and get my hands dirty like the rest of them. We all carry silver blades, and I know how to use mine just fine.¡±

    She pulled her blade swiftly from behind her back. It was hidden under the tail of her shirt, horizontally on her belt. She held it out and extended it to me. I grabbed the handle from her as she grasped the blade end. Ever so slightly, our fingers touched. I glanced up at her, my heart beating just slightly faster from the contact. I felt something. Did she? I wanted her to. I was starting to want a lot of things.

    Sam¡­ you have to stop. You aren¡¯t human anymore. She is, and she deserves someone better than you. She deserves a man, not a monster. Remember why you¡¯re here. Remember why you left your family. You have to be alone. You can¡¯t abandon Vicky and get with someone else.

    I berated myself internally.

    I pulled the blade from her hand, trying not to feel her fingers underneath mine.

    ¡°You¡¯ve used one of these before,¡± she stated.

    I had used Carter¡¯s, the silver knife that I thrust into the bald vampire¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Your dad says silver works on everything¡­ that it¡¯s like a poison?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± she said. ¡°Silver can kill anything. They are so weak to it that they can¡¯t even touch one of our silver blades. It would be too painful for them to pick up, let alone hold one.¡±

    It was strange¡­ I was holding it right in my own hand. Nothing was happening, I felt totally unaffected. This was the joke from last night. I shouldn¡¯t even be able to touch the bars of the cell in their basement, or the blade that I killed the vampire with. Carter and the others had no fears of me being a vampire or any other type of creature since the silver didn¡¯t affect me. This must have been the reason they trusted me so quickly. They were sure I was just another innocent human. This was probably why they hoped to bring me into their world. They¡¯d have another hunter. Someone to watch their backs.

    It didn¡¯t make sense at all. I was the quintessence of a monster, an unstoppable killer with no equal, yet, to stop or destroy me. If the silver was going to work on anyone, it should be me.

    I flipped the blade around in my hand, examining it at every angle, looking for anything unusual. It looked like dull silver metal to me, yet the same twisting symbols were etched into the spine of the blade.

    I handed it back to her, making sure that my hand was on the blade side, far away from where Autumn would grab.

    She took it by the hilt and slid it back into its sheath behind her back.

    She took another sip of her cranberry juice. I could hear her heartbeat as she answered my questions. I could hear her blood flowing through her body, her symmetrical breaths in and out spiking every now and then for extra oxygen. I noticed too much about her, and it was all dragging me in. I couldn¡¯t look away, and she wasn¡¯t either.

    I had been alone for so long. It had been two years since I was last with a woman¡­ Vicky. Everything about Autumn was appealing, and I wasn¡¯t superhuman when it came to resisting what attracted me. And Autumn¡­ she was a major attraction. I had to stay vigilant. I couldn¡¯t act on anything.

    ¡°They¡¯re back,¡± she said, looking towards the garage. She jumped up and walked to meet them at the garage entrance.

    I was thankful for the sudden return of her parents. It was just the thing I needed to break up this little powwow we were having. Keeping us apart would have to be a preemptive battle from now on. If I let her too close¡­ I¡¯m not sure if I could resist my thoughts for too long.

    The garage door was opening. How had I not noticed Carter and Eleanor¡¯s arrival myself? I was too focused on Autumn to pay attention to my surroundings. She was a significant distraction.

    Carter and Eleanor parked the car and shut it off. They got out and walked inside the warm house, leaving the garage door open to the chill of the coming winter. I could hear their footsteps approaching the side door that led into the house. Autumn met them at the door.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she greeted them.

    ¡°Hey, sweetie,¡± Eleanor returned.

    ¡°He¡¯s in the kitchen,¡± Autumn told her father.

    They all made their way into the kitchen while I waited, water in hand.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Carter welcomed as he turned the corner, ¡°I¡¯m glad you decided to come back. I¡¯m sorry we were gone. I hope you weren¡¯t waiting too long.¡±

    ¡°Not at all, Autumn was keeping me company. She was telling me more about silver.¡±

    ¡°Silver, huh? Well¡­ we may need to get you some silver here in a little while,¡± Carter said.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Our contact inside the police department has given us something to look into,¡± he said.

    ¡°What did he want?¡± Autumn asked.

    Carter looked unsure, ¡°There was a crime scene that was¡­ unusual.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡¯ she asked, intrigued.

    ¡°Well, there were at least four people killed, slaughtered to be more accurate. All of the bodies looked like they had been torn apart, it almost looks like some kind of animal attack,¡± Carter said. ¡°And we all know what that could mean.¡±

    I was about to ask what he meant by that, but Autumn was too quick.

    ¡°Highly unlikely,¡± she stated.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what it was looking like to the police, but there was something else. There was a fire, and it was set intentionally. The Fire Marshal found accelerant all over the third floor, where the fire started, but it was a gas pipe that was sheered from the wall that caused the explosion. Someone knew what they were doing, and it looks like they killed all these men and then set fire to try to cover it up.¡±

    I froze on the inside. They were talking about me, the men responsible for Emily Smith¡¯s murder, the men that I ripped to pieces in pursuit of her justice. I thought I was smart, I thought I had covered my tracks well enough. Well, I had covered them adequately for the cops, but this was before I knew anything about the Chasse family or this new hidden underworld of monsters.

    Eleanor spoke, ¡°We just don¡¯t know why something would do that. The fire was unnecessary, it would just bring more attention to them, and most of them have rules to follow.¡±

    ¡°Nothing is nailed down right now, but the police are not sure where to go from here. All the men were known gang members and drug dealers, so they think it could have been drug related. Maybe an example that had to be made by a rival gang,¡± Carter repeated what the Detective told him.

    The answer was staring them all right in the face, literally. I killed them. I was the one that set fire to cover my tracks so the cops couldn¡¯t link me, a dead man, to four gruesome murders. It was to purge any DNA traces of myself, if they still existed.

    ¡°So, we¡¯re just going to go make a few rounds, ask a few questions. That¡¯s all I told him we would do since it doesn¡¯t really have the M.O. of any creatures that inhabit this area,¡± Carter said.

    Just then, a vehicle sped up into the curved drive and stopped in line with the front door. Frank popped through the double doors and joined us. He looked excited about something.

    ¡°Hey, Sam,¡± he excitedly greeted. ¡°You ready to go on your first hunt?¡±

    I tilted my head to the side, ¡°Yeah¡­ sure.¡± I grinned a little, excited. He must have rubbed off on me.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not going to be a real hunt,¡± Carter said, ¡°but we always treat our outings like a hunt. So, let¡¯s go gear up.¡±

 Chapter 10 - First Outing

    I was standing in Carter¡¯s basement, in front of one large weapons cage. It was full of guns, ammo, silver bombs, and other unidentified trinkets I had yet to learn about.

    ¡°So, which one do you want?¡± Carter asked, gazing upon his weapons cache.

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°You ever shot a gun before?¡± Frank asked as he loaded up a semi-auto shotgun.

    ¡°Yeah, just not in a while. I used to have a revolver, but that about as far as my knowledge goes.¡± I had a revolver. If I had to guess, I would assume it was still sitting in Vicky¡¯s nightstand.

    Carter picked up a sleek, matte black pistol. It looked pretty expensive, but he just snatched it off the wall and started loading up clips like it was for everyday use.

    ¡°You can take this for now. You can shoot the range when we get back; figure out what you like, what you¡¯re most comfortable with,¡± he said.

    I nodded, accepting the gun from Carter as he pulled it from the wall and handed it to me. The sleek, matte black pistol gleamed under the dim basement light, its surface cool and smooth against my skin. The gun''s design was elegant yet functional, with a solid heft that spoke of its deadly potential. The handle was textured, providing a firm grip that felt both comfortable and secure.

    As I wrapped the leather gun belt around my waist, it felt sturdy and dependable, its weight reassuring. Securing the drop-down leg holster around my thigh, I noted how it hugged my leg with just the right amount of tension, fitting snugly and naturally against my body. It was as if the holster had been tailored for me, an extension of myself ready to bear the weight of the weapon it was meant to carry. I was a regular ole¡¯ monster hunter now! It was kind of fun to me, although completely unnecessary. But I continued with the show of needing this mechanical means of protection. It was like I was a kid again, playing with pretend guns that I¡¯d never use.

    I reached for one of the clips Carter had laid out. The cold metal was heavy and solid in my palm, a tangible reminder of the power it held. Each bullet slid into place with a precise, satisfying click, the motion almost hypnotic in its rhythm.

    Loading the clip into the pistol, I felt the gun''s weight shift, the balance perfect in my hand. The mechanism clicked into place, a sound that echoed through the silent basement like a final affirmation of readiness. The pistol felt natural in my grip, its design aligning perfectly with the contours of my hand.

    Once we were loaded up and the gun¡¯s holstered, we walked to another cage across the room. It was full of knives, a few swords, bows, and crossbows. Some of the swords looked older than the rest. They had inscribed figures on them that looked like some kind of ancient language or something. I¡¯d have to ask about that later. Most of them were newer, more modern blades. Carter rolled back the door of the cage and grabbed a silver blade off a rack. They were all about the same in size. He grabbed a medium-sized blade, somewhere between a knife and a short sword, basically a large bowie knife.

    ¡°Here,¡± Carter said, handing it out to me, ¡°this is yours now. Always keep this on you. You never know what you are going to run into out there.¡±

    I grabbed it from him, ¡°Thanks.¡± I placed it inside of the sheath that I positioned in the middle of my back on the gun belt. It was just how Autumn had worn hers.

    Then, Autumn came down the stairs and began loading out as well.

    I followed Carter over to the large table in the center of the room as he and Frank spoke about the specifics of where we were going. None of it meant anything to me, so I didn¡¯t bother paying to close attention, just enough to hear if they asked me something. I was too focused on Autumn.

    She had changed clothes after I descended into the basement. She wore different, darker jeans and a white, long sleeve shirt. She had a black leather jacket in one hand as she came down but set it on a table by the cage of rifles. She loaded herself out. She had small knives, too many to count, loaded into the lining of her jacket. She had her silver blade already positioned, in the same spot as before, as she threw on her arsenal of knives. She was like an assassin. Then, she grabbed a blacked-out carbon fiber framed rifle, followed by a container of silver-tipped bullets.

    I watched as I stood with Carter and Frank. Autumn barely stepped back from the cage of weapons before she took aim at a target. She quickly pointed all the way across the large basement and fired a practice shot almost instantly. It flashed across the room with a swift rush of air and then buried itself deep into a target that rested at the end of the firing range.

    Damn. She was even more impressive than I already thought.

    She grabbed all her gear and headed up the stairs, looking back once as she bounded up to the main floor. I tried not to look directly at her. It was hard.

    ¡°Alright, you ready?¡± Carter asked.

    I nodded, ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Just remember,¡± Carter said, ¡°you¡¯re about to see things you never knew existed. Some of those things might want to kill you. You can¡¯t hesitate when things go south. It¡¯s them or us, them or you.¡± He nodded towards the gun on my belt, ¡°Those are silver infused bullets you¡¯re carrying just in case. So, your blade isn¡¯t the only way to kill something.¡±

    I nodded confidently so he would accept I was ready. If only he knew the truth. The reality was that I didn¡¯t need any of it. I could shred my way through anybody if I needed to. At least I hadn¡¯t run into anyone that could stop me yet. However, this was the beginning of new chances for me, and new possibilities for my Plan B. I just had to find something¡­ someone stronger than me. Maybe then I could end this hell.

    I opened the back door to Carter¡¯s blacked-out SUV to get in with the rest of them. Eleanor was riding shotgun, Carter was driving, and I heard Frank say he was following in a separate vehicle, for surprise reinforcements if needed. Autumn was in the middle seat, where I was headed.

    I locked up, my willpower fighting with the selfish demon inside. I wanted to sit by her, smell the source of the scent trail that I followed to the garage. I wanted to talk with her again. I tried to find a reason to hand her something, so our hands could touch again, ever so slightly. She was beautiful, and I was entranced in her eyes, her smell, her touch, and even the noises she made. Her breathing was all I listened to when in range to hear. It was rhythmic and distracting.

    Shit! I had to stop! I could feel the monster willing me forwards. Trying to push me close to these desires.

    I went numb. I quickly folded the seat forward, climbing past it and into the back. She glanced at me with a confused look as I pulled the seat back into its position.

    ¡°You can sit by me, Sam¡­ I don¡¯t bite,¡± she grinned.

    I did, and that was the problem. I had to try and fight the temptations she put me through.

    ¡°Oh, sorry, isn¡¯t Frank coming?¡± I asked although I knew the answer.

    Carter spoke as we backed out of the garage, ¡°He¡¯s taking his own vehicle. He¡¯ll stay out of sight, but he¡¯ll be waiting to back us up if we need it.¡±

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked.

    Carter was in his own head, thinking about something very intently, so his answer wasn¡¯t beneficial, ¡°We¡¯re going west of town, to the Rockwoods Reservation.¡± He didn¡¯t say why, though.

    I started to think he might know something. Maybe he was trying to connect the dots from what the detective had told him. I wondered if he would soon be on my trail.

    For their sake, I hoped not.

    We drove west, cruising down scenic roads through the thickening trees. It all looked familiar to me, several small landmarks on the streets hinted at older memories. Still, I couldn¡¯t remember if I had been out this way before. I had been all over the area around St. Louis since I arrived two years ago, so it wasn¡¯t a stretch if I had seen the areas before.

    Carter and Eleanor were talking about various things at a low level, in the front. Autumn sat silent, adjacent to me, behind Carter. She would glance at me every now and then, but it was hard for her to steal a look without it being too obvious, so she was restricted. I could look at her all I wanted. I thought that maybe this was a mistake, that this was worse than sitting beside her. Now I had what seemed like an eternity to just stare at her from behind.

    I wanted to say something.

    ¡°What did you mean earlier?¡± I blurted out, the first thing I could think of.

    She turned quickly, putting her feet up, in the middle bench seat to sit sideways. She looked at me, unsure, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°When Carter was talking about the bodies, you said, ¡®Highly unlikely.¡¯ What did you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh, that. Sorry, I guess none of us caught that part quick enough to explain. When he said; ¡®We all know what that can be,¡¯ he was talking about werewolves.¡±

    Werewolves¡­ this was getting crazy. She had to be messing with me.

    ¡°Werewolves¡­ they¡¯re real too?¡±

    She nodded. Carter and Eleanor caught wind of what we were talking about and were less talkative and listened more to my response. Eleanor had a bracing expression like she was worried about how I¡¯d handle the thought of more creatures. It was no surprise that they were real.

    ¡°I was saying that it was highly unlikely because the werewolves, in the St. Louis area, have strict rules on attacking humans. They follow it, or they die.¡± Autumn explained, ¡°Their current leader, or Alpha,¡± she did the finger quotes, and smiled, ¡°has stringent laws for the pack. The only thing that they can hunt and kill, inside St. Louis, is the wild game out in the forests. If any of them break the law and kill a human, the Alpha kills them.¡±

    ¡°Just in town?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s for the safety and longevity of their pack. If they just killed humans whenever they felt like it, they would create too much attention, and that would then bring us to their door. Or others like us.¡± Then, she added, ¡°Or, other races.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, races?¡±

    ¡°Well, the theory behind it is that if one race of creatures is discovered, then the rest will be too. So, some races fear that others will retaliate if they make too many waves,¡± she explained.

    It made sense. I know I didn¡¯t want to be found out for what I was. I wondered if anyone would be feeling the waves I had been making.

    ¡°So, it¡¯s the¡­ Alpha that makes these decisions?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes and no. The Alpha takes into consideration the views of the pack members and tries to go with the majority. Still, in the end, it is her decision. The older, more experienced werewolves can control themselves during a transformation, so they don¡¯t kill randomly. But the younger ones can¡¯t control it, and sometimes people get killed. They all have a bloodlust that peaks on the full moon. They have a need to hunt and kill. Sometimes it overtakes them when it¡¯s at its strongest, and they can¡¯t stop. That¡¯s when they have to get out of the area.¡±

    ¡°The Alpha¡¯s rules,¡± I understood.

    ¡°The Alpha won¡¯t let that happen in populated areas like St. Louis. If it does happen, that¡¯s when she comes in¡­ or we do,¡± she said, confidently.

    They transform, and they have a blood lust. Was I¡­ what if this is what I became? Was I a werewolf? I didn¡¯t change on full moons, though. I transformed whenever I decided to unleash what¡¯s inside.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°So,¡± I tried to find the words and make them seem natural, ¡°when a werewolf transforms, what do they look like?¡±

    Autumn looked at her dad in the front. Carter looked up into the rearview mirror and spoke.

    ¡°It happens in stages; fangs, claws, eyes, even their physiology changes. They can become fairly strong at the peak of their transformation, even stronger than most vampires.¡±

    I started thinking this was it, but then I remembered the silver.

    ¡°So, they can turn whenever they want?¡± I asked. I needed clarification. I had my hand gripping the back of Autumn¡¯s seat, leaning forward at full attention. This was it.

    ¡°No,¡± Carter said.

    Fuck. I thought I might have finally found a path to some answers.

    ¡°They can channel parts of the wolf, but they can never fully transform outside of a full moon.¡± Autumn went on. ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯ve ever seen in person. You don¡¯t want to see a werewolf on a full moon. Dad has,¡± she said reverently like it was a significant accomplishment for a hunter.

    ¡°Yeah, but I wouldn¡¯t ever want to again,¡± Carter added.

    So, they were strong on full moons. I wondered, stronger than me? I¡¯d remember that, make a new plan, a new possibility for ending this life I had been sentenced to.

    I thought about it all as we continued the drive. I was trying to place the facts about werewolves into my new mental library. Everything was being categorized and stored in my brain, as I learned. An idea popped into my head. But it was something I¡¯d have to make a mental note of. Something to start later back at the factory.

    Autumn stayed sideways in the middle seat, working on the sights of her bow. I couldn¡¯t tell if she was serious about what she was doing or if it was an excuse to glance my way. Autumn would cut a few quick looks my way when she thought I wouldn¡¯t see, our eyes meeting every couple of minutes. She smiled at me a few more times, and it was torture. Scenarios played in my mind of what I wanted to do to her.

    Who was I kidding? That¡¯s what I wanted to think. Why would she have an interest in me? I was just placing my wants and ideas into the girl I had created in my head. The one that sat in front of me didn¡¯t have an interest in me, not like I imagined. When she looked at me, I knew that all she saw was a stranger. She was just curious at most and too polite to tell me to stop fucking looking at her. She had options, possibilities, and a future. I had nothing but darkness and death in my future.

    I tried not to look at her again for the rest of the trip.

    We came to a stop just outside of the reservation. There was a neighborhood on another street close by, but we drove into a small inlet in the trees. We came to the dead end and stopped just a few feet from the edge of the forest. Carter cut the engine, and we all got out of the vehicle. After I climbed out of the back seat, I met them at the back of the car, where the liftgate was open, exposing the loadout of weapons that they had brought.

    Eleanor and Autumn helped each other get into their gear. They checked their belts, loaded clips into their small pistols that they carried for backup, and grabbed their scoped rifles. I hadn¡¯t seen Eleanor¡¯s before, but it was very similar to Autumn¡¯s, with a few minor differences in trinkets that were unfamiliar to me.

    ¡°Check, check,¡± Eleanor said as she pressed on her ear.

    ¡°I got you,¡± Autumn said.

    ¡°I got you. Frank¡­ radio check,¡± Carter huffed at his brother.

    I could hear Frank come over the radio in all of their earpieces, ¡°Roger, I got you loud and clear. I¡¯m up and running out here, just tell me if you need me.¡±

    I looked around, trying to see if I could find him. I couldn¡¯t see him, so I focused on my hearing. I couldn¡¯t hear him either. He must have been far out, or maybe he just wasn¡¯t moving anymore.

    ¡°Roger,¡± Carter answered. ¡°Okay, you two take your positions, and Sam and I are going out.¡±

    Autumn and Eleanor nodded once and bounded off. Autumn smiled my way before leaving.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll be your guardian angels up here,¡± she laughed as she bounded off with her mother.

    They looked like two gazelles running through the woods, never losing speed as they continued up a large hill. They were gaining the high ground, probably to see us and even further out just in case. I found myself staring at Autumn as she flitted away from me. The attraction was intense, it was everything about her. She was strong.

    Carter shut the black liftgate, ¡°You ready?¡±

    I snapped out of it. Hopefully, Carter didn¡¯t realize that I was just checking out his only daughter.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I mean, I don¡¯t know what we¡¯re doing exactly. I guess I¡¯m just preparing for anything,¡± I answered, trying to seem slightly nervous.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯m not explaining much right now. I feel that most of this is just better learned out in the world. Once you see it, you won¡¯t forget it. But don¡¯t worry, I wouldn¡¯t bring you into anything you couldn¡¯t handle,¡± he said.

    We came out of the other side of the trees, right in front of a secluded house. I was surprised to see a woman standing out in her yard, staring straight at us.

    She stood tall, nearly matching my own height, exuding an aura of formidable power. Her frame was dense with muscle, each sinew and fiber taut and intimidating, enough to make even the bravest of men think twice. Her light brown hair framed a face that bore the look of chiseled stone, while her bright brown eyes, cold and unyielding, pierced through the distance between us. They reminded me of polished stones, hard and unforgiving.

    She was a vivid echo of Clara, Carter¡¯s sister, yet somehow more imposing. Her musculature was thicker, her presence more raw and untamed. There was something feral in her gaze, an edge that spoke of barely restrained anger and deep-seated uncertainty, but mostly a simmering, volcanic rage.

    The house behind her was a sprawling, one-story structure that resembled an old farmhouse, its size impressive. But my focus was so fixed on Jane that I barely registered someone pulling back the curtains to peek at us. Jane¡¯s eyes flicked to the window, and the intensity of her glare was enough to make the observer retreat hastily.

    I honed my senses, tuning in to the sounds within the house. The walls reverberated with the rhythms of life inside. Rapid heartbeats and anxious breathing. There were at least four others, their pulses buzzing with nervous energy.

    We crossed the street and entered her yard, moving directly towards her. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, a living barrier demanding explanation.

    ¡°Good morning, Jane,¡± Carter greeted, his tone steady but cautious.

    ¡°Carter,¡± she replied with a nod. She seemed frustrated. ¡°Do you mind telling me why you¡¯re here?¡± She said it like we were trespassing.

    ¡°I needed to check in with you. Ask you a few questions.¡±

    She just stood there waiting. She raised her eyebrows, ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°There was an incident a few nights ago¡­ killings. There were four men ripped to pieces inside of a building in St. Louis. They were brutally murdered. Then after, the killer set fire to cover their tracks,¡± Carter said.

    ¡°Let me just stop you right there. No one here has been in town for about a week. Also, everyone here knows the law. If someone broke it, I would deal with them, not you. But as far as I know, that hasn¡¯t happened,¡± she replied with suppressed aggression.

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to accuse. I¡¯m just looking for answers,¡± Carter said, pulling out a small envelope from his pocket. ¡°Take a look at these.¡± He stepped forward and handed the paper envelope to her.

    She opened the flap and pulled out a small stack of square pictures. She looked intently at every single image, shuffling through them every few seconds. Something pulled her in, she seemed interested, very interested.

    ¡°The cops don¡¯t know what to make of it. They were going to go with an animal attack initially, but the arson doesn¡¯t make sense. Now,¡± carter was interrupted.

    Jane was shaking her head, fiercely, ¡°No. This was definitely no werewolf, I can tell you that for sure.¡±

    Carter paused for a moment, surprised by her confident honesty. ¡°How can you know that for sure,¡± Carter wanted to know.

    ¡°Don¡¯t question me, Carter,¡± she barked. Her eyes pulsed out, growing larger and then shifting to a strange shade of yellowish-orange. She looked feral and inhuman.

    Someone slung the front door open and charged outside. It was a man of average height and a durable build, like her. He didn¡¯t look as dominant as Jane, but still much stronger than your average human. He stood at her side.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you two hunters get the hell out of here, before we do decide to break our laws,¡± he threatened.

    He was staring straight at me when he said it, completely unaware of what was standing in front of him. I think that he was waiting for me to show some sign of fear, but I wasn¡¯t giving any. Shit, I think even Carter expected that from me. I wasn¡¯t scared, and I didn¡¯t like this asshole, so I wasn¡¯t even going to pretend for him. I didn¡¯t want him to think he affected me in any way.

    The monster creaked beneath the surface, pushing on the walls of its cage. It wanted out, and wanted to test its strength against the werewolves. I never moved an inch, and I never broke eye contact with this new werewolf.

    ¡°Get back inside, Bran,¡± Jane ordered.

    ¡°But¡­¡± he looked curiously at her.

    She turned her strange animalistic gaze on him and widened her eyes. He turned and went back inside. He was pissed but dared not disobey.

    She breathed deeply for a moment, her eyes fading back to their normal shade of brown, and then spoke, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for Bran. He was actually out here for me, not you,¡± she clarified, directing the apology towards me.

    I just stayed silent, never losing the hard edge I kept the whole time. I had to be ready for anything, in case I had to protect Carter from the pack of werewolves that rested behind her door.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Carter accepted.

    She glanced back down at the stack of photos in her hand, gritting her teeth.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± Carter asked again.

    She unclenched her jaw and said, ¡°I know that this wasn¡¯t a werewolf because I¡¯ve seen this before.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? When?¡± he was quick to ask.

    ¡°A few separate times in the last year or so. We¡¯ve found bodies in the woods. They were all decimated like these,¡± she said, raising the pictures to show Carter something. ¡°You see these claw marks,¡± she pointed to an image, ¡°look at how deep they are. They are way too deep for a werewolf¡¯s claws.¡±

    Fuck. This was the beginning of the trail. Small clues that I was leaving, the waves I had made so long ago were finally being felt. Now I knew why this area had seemed so familiar. It was where I had left a few bodies to decompose or be eaten by the animals. Unfortunately, the werewolves had found the bodies before that could happen.

    ¡°Something was feeding in your area. Isn¡¯t that a big deal for you?¡± Carter asked.

    Her face grew more ominous, ¡°Normally yes, but whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t feeding. Look here,¡± she pointed to one of the pictures. ¡°When a werewolf kills, it kills to feed. When we transform and kill something, we feed on it, consuming large portions of the body. Look at how much is left on these men. Besides the mutilation, nothing is missing, nothing substantial, anyway.¡±

    Carter took all the pictures back from Jane. He examined each of them thoroughly, comparing them all to this new revelation, looking at all the broken bodies. This severed arm lay beside the carved corpses, the crushed skulls.

    ¡°So, whatever it is, it¡¯s not feeding, it¡¯s just killing,¡± she stated.

    Carter looked perplexed, ¡°And this started when?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t say for sure. Maybe, two years ago. Give or take a little,¡± Jane waved her hand at the estimation.

    Two years ago, was right. That¡¯s when I found myself in the city.

    Carter brought himself up straight, out of his thoughts, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for coming here, but I¡¯m glad we talked. Thank you for your help. We¡¯ll get out of here now.¡± She nodded, not arguing with our quick departure. Carter turned and looked at me, signaling with a nod to turn and go back to the car. I followed his lead, and we walked away.

    I breathed through my nervousness and paranoia that clouded my thoughts. Had I been too careless? If I knew about other creatures, and monster hunters, I would have taken different precautions. Shit!

    ¡°Carter,¡± Jane caught us before we could leave. ¡°If you are going to pursue this, you should know that we aren¡¯t the only ones to notice something like this before.¡±

    He looked back to her, ready to listen, interested.

    ¡°No one knows anything real, just stories; rumors really. Still, you might want to talk to them yourselves.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Carter asked.

    ¡°Down at that strange vampire bar. That¡¯s the biggest hub of information you can get around here. The owner¡­ Martin, I hear you guys are friends. You can just ask him yourself,¡± she said. ¡°But please, pass the information back this way. I¡¯d like to know more about who has been out in my woods.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± Carter agreed. ¡°Thank you, Jane, we¡¯re sorry to have bothered you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, just a miscommunication. Tell Frank I said hey,¡± Jane requested.

    I was confused about the last part. It sounded like Frank and Jane knew each other personally, more than just the hunter-creature dynamic. It was like they were friends, or they had a history of some sort.

    We turned back and retreated across the street, back into the woods. I was silent the whole way back, cautiously calculating the damage I had done. What had I set in motion? Would it be enough for the Chasse family to find out who or what I was? I really didn¡¯t want to have to flee St. Louis if I was discovered by them. I liked it here, especially as of late.

    We got back to the car, Autumn and Eleanor stood behind the black SUV. They were taking their gear off and storing it in the back of the open vehicle.

    Watching Autumn take things off made me stop worrying about the unknown possibilities and focus on the present. I just watched her, inconspicuously from behind. I looked for too long, and she turned around to see me staring as we approached. She tried to hide a smile, but it escaped the corners of her mouth. I tried to look away.

    Carter began talking to Eleanor about what we had just uncovered.

    I got in the very back again, figuring I could keep the power to look at Autumn all I wanted like I had on the trip out here. However, before Carter and Eleanor got around to their doors, Autumn pulled the seat forward and climbed in the back with me. It was a tighter fit all the way in the back seat, forcing us together in close quarters. She positioned herself sideways to look straight at me. What was she doing?

    ¡°You don¡¯t mind, do you?¡± she asked, pointing down to her location.

    ¡°No,¡± I said quickly, ¡°You¡¯re fine.¡± I would never mind being this close to her. My enhanced senses let me enjoy her presence in ways I never knew were possible. I listened to her heartbeat harder as she settled into her spot. I didn¡¯t admit it, even in my head, but I knew this was a bad idea.

    Carter and Eleanor got in and shot a quick glance at the empty seat behind them, and then to us all the way in the back. Eleanor smirked, and Carter shrugged, unsure of what was going on. His thoughts were elsewhere, on the worries of this new information. The engine roared to life and backed out of the opening in the trees.

    ¡°What do you think about the Alpha?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Jane? She was the Alpha?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she nodded.

    I replayed the meeting in my head, picturing all the details about her, especially the eyes. When angered, her human brown eyes flared out to a more massive, pale orange orb. She looked feral, like a wild animal.

    ¡°She¡¯s been the Alpha of her pack for about ten years now. She rose to the top when the last Alpha was killed,¡± she said. ¡°Her father¡­¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d that happen,¡± I asked with piqued curiosity.

    ¡°Vampires¡­¡± she replied. ¡°They don¡¯t get along. Well, vampires don¡¯t really get along with anyone. They¡¯ll kill anything with blood to drink, human or monster.

    Well, there went my Plan B. If werewolves could be killed by vampires, they were equally as useless to me as the vampires I had already killed. They did say they were their strongest on a full moon, so maybe there was some hope there. There had to be something out there that could end my curse, something strong enough to kill me.

    ¡°There are vampires, werewolves, wendigo¡­ what else is there?¡±

    Autumn looked softly at me. Her alluring brown eyes were beautiful, sincere, and vivid in the low lighting of the Suburban. She looked wary, unsure of how I was taking all of this like I was going to run the moment Carter pulled the car over. I guess this must have happened before, someone new inducted into their type of life, but not being able to handle the reality.

    ¡°A lot¡­¡± she said.

 Chapter 11 - Bestiaries

    We pulled into the Chasse¡¯s garage, spilling out and unloading some of the gear from the back. Carter left his equipment, and once Frank arrived behind us, put his gear in the back of the Suburban. They were dropping us off and then going somewhere by themselves. I didn¡¯t hear them say where, but I figured they were going to Martin¡¯s, the vampire bar. I wondered what Jane meant when she said he and Carter were friends. A vampire and a hunter being friends¡­ I didn¡¯t know much about their world yet, but that didn¡¯t seem like a possibility.

    We all walked inside their house. Eleanor waved me in while I walked to the door, treating me like I was one of them, like a friend. It was more than I deserved.

    Carter kissed Eleanor and whispered something in her ear, she nodded. I had realized that I wasn¡¯t listening in on any of their private conversations like I did with people on the street. I guess, subconsciously, I was giving them privacy, treating them like I would if I was human. I let the fantasy fill my reality like I could actually be a part of this family. That was a mistake.

    ¡°You did well today,¡± Carter said as he walked to me.

    ¡°Thanks. It was a little strange.¡±

    ¡°I bet,¡± he laughed. ¡°We have a sort of truce with the werewolves. As long as they don¡¯t kill humans, we won¡¯t hunt them. We¡¯ve had this arrangement for a while now, years actually. So, you can imagine why she reacted the way she did. You saw her eyes?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I answered.

    ¡°They can pull on the beast inside, summoning strength and speed when they need it, but they are never as strong as they are on a full moon. That¡¯s when they fully transform. They aren¡¯t human for those few hours in the night. That¡¯s when you don¡¯t want to meet one,¡± he warned.

    ¡°So, you believe what she said? That there is something else out there, killing people?¡± I asked. I hoped he didn¡¯t.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet.¡± Thank God. ¡°I need to check around. If it was something else, we don¡¯t even know what it could be. So,¡± he looked at Autumn, ¡°we need to do some research,¡± and then he nodded towards me.

    Autumn nodded quickly.

    ¡°Frank and I will go to Martin¡¯s and see what we can find out. Maybe these stories add up to something.¡±

    ¡°Good luck, honey. Be safe,¡± Eleanor said.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be back soon,¡± Carter said as they walked back to the garage.

    Frank spun on his heels, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make sure he doesn¡¯t hang out with his vampire buddy all night. Drinkin¡¯ up all his red cool aid!¡±

    It must have been an inside joke because they all laughed harder than I thought necessary, except for Carter.

    ¡°You do realize I have a gun¡­¡± Carter said, closing the garage door behind them.

    Through the door, I heard a small thud. It was followed by Frank, who let out a howling laugh after Carter had punched him in the ribs.

    I chuckled at the comradery; It reminded me of my twin brother, Seth. I missed him.

    Could I get there, maybe one day have something that resembled true friendship, or even love? Could I ever have anything that resembled what I had with my own brother?

    No. I realized that if they knew what I was, they wouldn¡¯t want me around. They would want me dead. I wasn¡¯t like Martin, the friendly vampire. I could never live without the kill.

    Autumn looked to me, ¡°You want to come with me to the library?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, snapping out of my haze at her words.

    She seemed amused at something. I couldn¡¯t tell what, so I just acted like I didn¡¯t notice. Maybe it was just me.

    Eleanor disappeared into another area of the house as we walked into the corner library. There, on the desk, was the black book from before. Autumn picked it up and handed it to me.

    ¡°This is the first volume of our bestiaries. This is the best place for you to start. I¡¯ll be back here in a few minutes,¡± she said.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± I asked, a little too quickly.

    She grinned, ¡°Well, unlike you, some of us sweat when we run around the woods. I¡¯m taking a shower, and then I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    She noticed that¡­ shit. I don¡¯t think I could sweat anymore. Well, at least I had never gotten to that point since the change. Hopefully, she wouldn¡¯t think too much about it.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I agreed with a fake chuckle, hoping she would just let it go.

    She turned around smartly and continued out of their personal library.

    I sat there looking around at all of the books. What did they have? It couldn¡¯t be anything like a standard library. There had to be a supernatural connection to every volume on the shelves. I paced around, looking at all of the different titles, none of which I knew by name. Some were in languages I didn¡¯t even recognize.

    Above me, I heard the shuffle of bare feet on the hardwood floor. They moved around in one room for a few moments and then walked to another place. I listened to the turn of a creaky valve reverberate through the walls, and water begin to spray out of the showerhead. Autumn moved around, opening and closing cabinets, and then I heard the ruffling of clothes as she got undressed. She tossed her clothes to the side in a large pile, and then she tossed two lighter pieces of clothing aside.

    I pictured her up there, what she looked like, naked. I could only imagine. I mean, she was gorgeous, sleek, and powerful. I wanted to see what her body looked like, with nothing blocking my enhanced eyes. I wanted to see all of her. I felt the monster inside push my mind in that direction. I wanted to go up there and close myself in there with her. I wanted her to want me to come up there.

    I stood over the middle desk, above the black book, and gritted my teeth. I wanted this almost as much as I wanted the kill when I was at my worst. I didn¡¯t know if this was a product of being alone for two years or another one of the hidden monster¡¯s dark urges. Maybe it was a combination of both. I fought the demon back, overpowering the invasive thoughts by sheer willpower, making myself go numb. I focused on the book in front of me.

    I actually read the front cover, ¡°Chasse - Wicklow - Talbot - Bestiary Vol. I.¡±

    Talbot? I obviously recognized Chasse and Wicklow, but I hadn¡¯t heard of this name¡­ Talbot.

    I opened the book through the first couple of blank pages to an introductory note. It was written with an older hand of writing. It was elegant, more sophisticated than anything you see nowadays.

    ¡®This is the Bestiary: an ongoing log and study of every supernatural creature that has been discovered. We, Chasse-Hunters, Wicklow-Gypsies, and Talbot-Accursed, bind together as one family. We fight back against the dark, and all that hides within.¡¯

    This answered the multiple questions I had. The Wicklow¡¯s relationship to the Chasse family and what brought them together. They were gypsies, though¡­ what exactly did that mean, and who were the Talbots? I turned the pages and found the first entry.

    ¡®Vampires- They are the biggest threat we face in this age. The nightwalkers, as they are called, are exceedingly strong and fast. If you find yourself in an alley at night and stumble upon a vampire, run. Fighting one of these beasts on your own is a fatal error. They survive by drinking the blood of other living creatures. This process grants them incredible powers that they use to dominate and kill.¡¯

    There was a long list of accounts and reports below, more descriptions and details about their appearances, a few hand drawings, and a list of weaknesses and ways to kill. The Vampire section was quite a few pages long.

    By the time I had finished reading through the section, Autumn was walking back into the library.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Sorry, I hope I wasn¡¯t too long,¡± she said, twisting the length of her hair into a loose ponytail over her shoulder.

    I looked up, so engrossed in the book that I didn¡¯t hear her coming back. She didn¡¯t even look like she had just gotten out of the shower. I could smell and feel the heat on her dark hair. Her scent was sweet vanilla, or at least that¡¯s what I thought it smelled like. It had been a while since I felt anything like her.

    She was an angel, skating around the edges of my hell, placed there for me to see what I couldn¡¯t actually have.

    ¡°No, I was actually getting pretty deep into this,¡± I said, lifting the book.

    She looked over my shoulder, ¡°Vampires¡­ they were the first big problem our family faced. It was their threat that set us on our path.¡±

    I had so many questions.

    ¡°This thing says that the Wicklows are gypsies¡­¡± I trailed off. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    She had an unsure look on her face, ¡°It¡¯s hard for me to explain. They aren¡¯t really hunters like us, but they do help us fight in their own way.¡± She tried to find a way to put it into words. ¡°They see things. When they touch people or objects, or if they go somewhere that has some kind of meaning, or sometimes they just have dreams. It¡¯s kind of random sometimes, but the older Wicklows can use it to our advantage. They can find people, see where things will be, get information. It¡¯s strange to see them do it, but it¡¯s real.¡±

    Geez, everything she said only brought more questions.

    ¡°Can Patrick do it?¡± I asked.

    She all but winced at his name, ¡°Yes, but not like his father, and certainly not like his grandmother, Annabelle.¡±

    ¡°There are others?¡± I asked, only knowing of the four I met at dinner.

    ¡°Yes, they actually went to go see Annabelle. She lives out of town, about an hour away. She is the sweetest old woman I think I¡¯ve ever known. You can¡¯t hide anything from her, she always knows what I¡¯m thinking, or what I¡¯m going to do,¡± she smiled. I could tell she had some kind of close relationship with Annabelle, and she missed her.

    Noted; avoid Annabelle at all costs. If she could see things, she might see me. The real me.

    I flipped the book back over to its cover. I pointed down at the name and asked, ¡°Who are the Talbots?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ even more complicated,¡± she sighed. ¡°It¡¯s a long story, but the woman you met earlier, Jane,¡± she reminded. ¡°Her last name is Talbot.¡±

    I saw her eyes as she spoke on the subject. It looked upsetting to her for some reason. I backed off. I didn¡¯t want to be another thing to bring her down, like Patrick. I changed the subject.

    ¡°So, what are we supposed to be looking for?¡± I asked, trying to be enthusiastic.

    She grinned, excited at my acceptance of this life. Was she happy that I was here for other reasons? She just met me, why would she be? Stop hoping for things that won¡¯t happen.

    We read and talked together for hours in the library. We sat right next to each other at the small desk, in the middle of the room. We both leaned over into the black book. Our faces were so close that I could feel the heat of her pulsing blood emanating over me with each surge. Her knees would slowly relax and fall over into my legs every now and then, for a minute or two before she would realize, and then set them up. It was heaven. Autumn would get up and go refill our drinks whenever they were empty, trying to keep me comfortable. She didn¡¯t have to do it for me. Just being beside her kept me happy.

    We had made it about one-third of the way through the first black book, and the list of creatures got longer and longer the more we read. She was looking for anything that fit the story the alpha werewolf, Jane Talbot, had told Carter. The clue was vague; longer claws, that was about it. We searched for anything that had notably longer claws than werewolves. Every couple of pages was a new type of monster that I didn¡¯t know existed. I was taking it well, which she liked. She told me multiple times about how she couldn¡¯t believe how well I was taking all of it. The excitement in her eyes grew with every new thing I learned. I felt good around her, and I didn¡¯t want to leave.

    The list grew; vampires, werewolves, wendigo, shapeshifters, skinwalkers, manticore, chimera, gwyrms, all different kinds of spirits. Fuck, I almost couldn¡¯t keep up. There were so many, and this was still just the first book. I looked back to the shelves of black books, and there had to be at least eight more of them. How did all of this exist, and I had lived my whole life entirely in the dark. How could anyone stay in the unknown with all these things out there?

    However, after all the chapters we read through, we never found anything that fit what we searched for. I, however, was conducting my own search. Carter only had one piece of the puzzle, and it was a very unimportant one. Long claws, it was basically useless. I searched for comparisons between what I knew of myself and all the new creatures I discovered. I kept searching as we read, yet none of them fit.

    I was still in the dark, without a single ounce of information about my own existence. None of these new creatures helped my Plan B situation either. None were notably stronger than vampires, except for the Manticore. Unfortunately, the book said that they hadn¡¯t been around for over a century. Vampires had been the universal leader for overall strength and speed. So, I was stuck on both of my fronts.

    At the moment, however, I didn¡¯t care. I just wanted to stay with Autumn. She reminded me of Vicky and my old life. They were nothing alike, but the way she made me feel was what I felt with my wife¡­ before all of this. I never thought I would feel it again.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a break,¡± Autumn sighed. ¡°I can¡¯t look at this handwriting anymore tonight. I¡¯m starting to get a headache.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I agreed. I already had an info dump for the day. I needed to go back to the factory and write down everything I had learned here. I could make my own bestiary. That was an idea that hit me in the car earlier. Maybe it could help me later down the road, for hunting purposes, my own hunting that is.

    It was about four in the afternoon. We had been reading in the bestiary for about five hours as the time had flown by. Being with her did that to me.

    ¡°I should probably get out of here. I need to get some stuff together for work tomorrow,¡± I lied.

    It was Sunday, and tomorrow was a typical workday for some humans. Since I was playing the part of a job holding human, I needed to keep up with the fictional life I led.

    ¡°You can¡¯t stay for dinner?¡± she asked, an undertone of disappointment.

    I wanted to say yes, but there was so much I had to do. I had to go back and take all of this in, figure out what it meant to me, how I could use this information. Also, I needed to start my own hunt. Except, I wouldn¡¯t be hunting monsters, I¡¯d be hunting criminals, murderers, rapists, and all the other humans that I deemed worthy of slaughter. It had only been a day since I killed, but being around humans all day, Autumn especially, made the monster stir. It wanted blood, it wanted death, and I didn¡¯t know how long I could hold out this time. I had to find someone¡­ something.

    ¡°No,¡± I forced myself to say, ¡°I gotta get back.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Okay,¡± she accepted. Although it seemed like she wished I¡¯d change my mind.

    I marked the page in the bestiary, closed it, and handed it back to her.

    ¡°Until next time,¡± I smiled, staring into her deep eyes, hoping that by some miracle, she thought about me as I did about her.

    When she grabbed the book, our fingers laced together like they had with her knife. My heart started beating at double power. I thought it was going to punch a hole through my chest. Then, she slid her hand away, pulling the book from mine. She had a strange look on her face that I couldn¡¯t make out. My self-hating personality thought she was embarrassed, embarrassed at the way I stared into her. I thought that she could see what I felt, and she didn¡¯t feel the same. I was right; she wasn¡¯t thinking the same things as I was. It was just my hopes again, wanting something I¡¯d never have.

    The garage door opened as I pulled my jacket over my shoulders in the walkway. Carter and Frank strolled back inside the house just as I was leaving.

    ¡°You headed out?¡± Carter asked.

    ¡°Yep, work tomorrow,¡± I lied again.

    ¡°Oh, piss on that,¡± Frank said. ¡°Come work with us, then you can do this full time.¡± He acted playfully, but I could tell he was sincere. I liked Frank; he was easy to be around.

    ¡°Frank¡­¡± Carter said, cutting him off. ¡°If he wants that, he can decide when. Sorry,¡± he apologized. ¡°Do what you need to do, and whenever you¡¯re ready to come back, call me.¡± Then he quickly added, ¡°Or, come over again. You are always welcome.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    I gritted my teeth. It was hard to be around them. They accepted me, well, the version that I let them see. Still, I hadn¡¯t felt like a human in so long that this was all striking me; the feeling of family and people who actually wanted me around.

    ¡°You learn anything from those old books?¡± Frank asked.

    I grinned, ¡°Yeah, just the first one, but it was¡­ a lot. All those things are really all out in the world?¡±

    Carter nodded grimly, ¡°Yes.¡±

    Autumn walked away, quickly without notice. She wanted away from me; I knew it. My mind grew silent to everything. The only thought that replayed over and over was that I¡¯ll never have anyone.

    Then, Autumn came back around the corner of the library.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you again tomorrow?¡± she asked.

    I cocked my head to the side. Maybe I was wrong. Still, it was a stretch.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± I said, hopefully. ¡°It might be a day or two.¡± I might need to satiate the beast before I tried for more time with them.

    ¡°You guys learn anything?¡± I asked Carter and Frank as I passed them on my way out.

    ¡°Not a thing. We talked to a few people, but they knew nothing, and Martin¡¯s was empty. We¡¯ll go back another time and see what we can dig up.¡± Carter said.

    I wanted to ask about Martin, but I figured it could wait until next time. I just nodded along as he spoke.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I nodded to everyone, ¡°I¡¯ll see you guys soon, then.¡±

    Everyone said bye, even Eleanor, who ran around the corner. Autumn was smiling at me again, the strange look gone from her face. She was hard to figure out. What was she thinking earlier?

    I walked out to the garage, and waved again, closing the house door behind me. After I clicked it shut, I walked out of the open garage door and onto the street. No one asked me how I had gotten there, which was lucky because I¡¯m sure it was only the present monster situation that had them distracted. I knew I¡¯d have to come and go by a normal mode of travel before they asked questions. I¡¯d figure that out later.

    It was slowly starting to get darker outside. The sun began to slip past the horizon. It would be night soon, the perfect time to search for my next kill.

    After a couple of miles of walking in the moonlight, I came upon a manhole cover on a dark street. It hadn¡¯t been lifted in years. I pried on the metal disk with my enormous strength. It groaned and squealed as I uprooted the rusted cover. I climbed into the hole and down the ladder, pulling the old cover back into place. As it slid closed above me, the moonlight was severed from my view. It was pitch black, but my eyes quickly adjusted, matching the color of the tunnels.

    I was back in my dark, silent world. No more friends or would-be families. I was back in my life. The only thing to keep me company was the monster that waited within.

 Chapter 12 - Back to Basics

    I was passing through the large, scantily lit production floor of the abandoned factory. All the broken and glassless windows let the moonlight flow in like a choppy disco ball. I moved like a silent ghost through my hidden home, making no noise except for the slight crunch of loose grit and rust beneath my feet. I stood in front of a busted mirror in an old bathroom, staring at my reflection.

    How could they treat me the way they did? Shouldn¡¯t they be able to see the monster in me? I was angry at the thing staring back in the mirror. Why did he have to ruin my life, why did he have to be what he was¡­ what I was.

    I replayed every moment I had with the Chasses that morning. The way they treated me like I was one of them. I wanted to be with them still and feel it again. I wanted a family.

    But I was alone. The creature was the only one to keep me company, the one who would always be with me. This was my real life, hiding in the dark, killing in the night, becoming an unknown entity. Everything I had felt with them wasn¡¯t real. It was based on a lie. It wouldn¡¯t last, not once they knew the truth. I couldn¡¯t really have anything until I gave them the truth.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I growled at my reflection.

    I found myself walking close to the shittier parts of downtown St. Louis. I had been in such deep thought that I didn¡¯t realize how far I had gotten away from the factory. I needed to hunt, but I mainly just wanted to get out and clear my head.

    It was a crisp, chilly fall night. Multi-colored leaves dangled from trees, blotted out sidewalks, and swirled into the air as the wind scooped them up. I could smell many scents in the clear sky. Fall had set in and was creeping towards winter. The air grew colder with every passing day, yet that didn¡¯t stop the people from coming out in droves for the same nightlife, year-round.

    I made my way to a more populated part of town. The Landing was an area filled with bars and clubs, and it was packed with people. For a Sunday night, there were a lot of active night-owls roaming the blacktops, hopping from bar to bar. They were all in search of something, hoping to meet that special someone. Most were drunk and unable to maintain a normal conversation. All of them just wanted to fulfill their needs. I was no different. I was looking for that special someone. That one person that could satisfy my dark needs. Although, how we would leave these people would differ. I would leave them dead.

    I watched from the shadows on top of a two-story building. I looked down at all the people walking in and out of clubs that thumped with music, talking, kissing, hands running across skin, people just getting to know one another. Autumn came to mind as I watched them. I wanted that, but I knew I couldn¡¯t have it. I sat in the shadows of a rooftop, out of sight. I thought about ¡°Plan-B¡± and prayed for death to just take me. I wanted a flash of darkness to wipe out my consciousness and just end it. I sat in the dark for a while¡­ but death never came. I was alone, and my world kept turning.

    About halfway through the night, I heard a scream that snapped me out of my imagination. It was a sharp, ear-splitting scream that came from a couple streets over. This was a guttural, shrill cry for help.

    I sprang up from the place where I was moping over my life. Everything fell away as I heard the scream. I threw myself forward and sprinted across the rooftops. Once I got to the edge of the building, I shoved off with all my strength. I rocketed across the street below in a slight arc. The cold wind rushed by my face as I flew across the street. I landed on top of the next building without even breaking stride, my sturdy legs absorbing the impact.

    I followed the origin point of the noise as best I could. I thought I was losing track, but then I heard two different kinds of footsteps. They were fast, and the girl''s were chaotic. I could sense that she was just another street over, on the far side of the next building. I bounded across the roof and jumped like before. I sailed across the next street, smoothly landing on the rooftop. I stopped right as I hit the far edge of the building. No onlookers could see me in the dark, nor could they hear my silent landing as I came down onto the adjacent roof.

    When I looked down, I saw her. Sure enough, there was a girl, young, possibly mid-twenties, running like a madwoman through a dark alley.

    ¡°Help!¡± She hoarsely called.

    Her voice was desperate and aghast. I could see the tears streaming from her blue eyes, her mascara running, and the jumps in her breathing. She was in fight or flight mode, and she chose flight, but what was she running from?

    I scanned the area, eyes blackening and ears searching, looking for someone else. She kept running, safe for the moment, making it to a side street at the end of the alley. She didn¡¯t know she was safe, but I was her guardian now. Nothing could get to her while I was there.

    Then I heard a movement. It was further back into the alley. Slow, calculating steps were being taken. They watched her as she sprinted to the escape. Their steps never picked up. It was a slow walk.

    Finally, they came into view. Three strange-looking men with red eyes emerged from around an obstruction. They were vampires. Their strange smell arrived to meet me on the roof. The trace scents of many different blood sources, all joining as one mass aroma, crept through the area. You could never forget their smell.

    How was it that I had gone so long without seeing one before, and now it seemed like vampires were everywhere I went? How was I so blind to them in the past? Maybe it was how hard I tried to stay away from people in between killings. Maybe I just needed to get out more.

    Every step they took, every move they made was unnatural. They were fast, confident, and seemingly careless about the girl¡¯s distance. Their slow movements were rapid, and I knew that if they wanted to, they could be on her in an instant.

    Just then, as the girl neared the edge of the street, one of them turned into a shadow of speed. Suddenly the girl was thrown back into the alley. She was still safe. It was getting close, but I knew what they were doing. They wanted to toy with her, trying to scare her. They took pleasure in it.

    I would do the same with them.

    All three vampires were standing together, about ten feet from her, as she tried to muster the strength to get up. They were moving in.

    I grabbed a small metal pipe that looked like it had come off the dated air conditioner beside me on the roof. Rusty, yet still solid enough to use. I hurled it down the alley, behind the vampires. It careened back into the shadows and hit with an echoing clink. It bounced several times, clanking away behind them before rolling into the shadows.

    All of them turned their gaze into the shadows. Nothing surprised them. Nothing snuck up behind them. They were the top of the food chain, the apex predators. That¡¯s what they thought, anyway. Yet, the noise surprised them. That¡¯s when they all realized something was watching them.

    I wasn¡¯t sneaking up behind them, I was above them.

    I jumped from the roof, plummeting two stories into the cold cement of the dark alley. My full weight came down between the girl and the blood drinkers. I landed on my feet with force, crouching slightly as I absorbed the momentum.

    The three male vampires looked surprised. I had appeared out of nowhere, falling from the sky. Their eyes were wide with disbelief. That lasted only a second, and then they were annoyed.

    ¡°And who are you?¡± the one on the left asked.

    He was forgettable. His face and features were very average, along with the other two. Two of them were brown-haired, but one was blonde. Other than that, they weren¡¯t anything special. They all only looked to be in their twenties, but who knew how old they really were.

    I didn¡¯t answer. I just stared into them, waiting for one to make a move towards the girl. I would catch them by the neck and rip their head from their shoulders. The monster rose, infecting my mind.

    One of them noticed my black eyes that were locked onto them from beneath my hood. He was taken aback, scared of the unknown. He stepped back, only slightly, and the other two looked at him. They were shocked at his retreat. He seemed older, smarter than the other two.

    He warned them, ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    He was different. He could sense something wasn¡¯t right. Maybe he saw my face begin to shift.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± one of the vampires asked. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what he is. There are three of us and one of him.¡±

    ¡°I said let¡¯s go,¡± he yelled at the other two.

    ¡°It¡¯s too late for that,¡± I said, breaking my silence.

    They all looked at me, slowly, beginning to realize that they weren¡¯t in control of the situation.

    The smarter one backed up even more. He looked like he was about to run. The other two were unsure but finally stepped up with flooded egos. They were vampires. They thought nothing could stand against them, let alone three. That was their last mistake.

    I didn¡¯t transform. I just began.

    I lunged at the closest one, my hands clamping around his neck. I pushed him into the brick wall of the alley, lifting him from the ground. I squeezed on his throat, feeling him squirm and fight for freedom. He was strong. I could feel him resisting my human form, unlike the last time I killed one of his kind.

    I felt my flesh sear as my talons erupted through my skin, the agony fueling my rage. The moment they fully extended, I drove them into the soft meat of his neck, feeling the hot gush of blood as I ripped my hand viciously through his windpipe. He stood there, gasping and gurgling, blood cascading from the gaping wound where his throat used to be. His spine, now exposed and ripped apart, dangled pathetically, a gruesome tether to what little remained of his head. He dropped to the ground, twitching in a pool of his own blood. Near decapitation might have done the job, but I wanted no doubt. I reared back and brought my foot down with savage force, the impact turning his skull into a splatter of brains and shattered bone fragments. His head exploded like a rotten melon, gray matter and blood painting the pavement in a grotesque mosaic.

    The blonde one started getting smarter. He stood out of his attacking crouch and back-pedaled into the shadows. He moved quickly, but it wasn¡¯t fast enough. I slammed into his skull with a vicious blow. I swiped at his face like a mauling bear. He was thrown into the brick wall, cracking the red rocks from their place. Little shards of masonry fell to the pavement, shattering into even smaller pieces.

    The third vampire stumbled and fell as he backed away, eyes wide with terror at the relentless slaughter. He scrambled to his feet, only to crash into a dumpster and collapse to the ground again. These vampires, once predators, now resembled panicked deer, tripping over their own feet in their desperate flight. I propelled myself off the earth with powerful legs, launching across the long alley. I landed beside him, a predator closing in on its prey.

    Without hesitation, I unleashed a barrage of blows to his face. His feeble attempts to fend me off were futile as my fists hammered through his guards, the sound of breaking bones echoing through the alley. His arms shattered under the force, and his face became a grotesque mask of blood and broken fragments. One of his eyes dangled grotesquely from its socket, his jaw twisted at an unnatural angle, and his ear was torn away completely.

    Panic and horror were etched across what remained of his face. He tried to crawl away, a pathetic attempt at escape, but there would be no refuge. I stood over his broken body, my breath ragged with fury, and watched him inch away, a trail of blood smearing the ground behind him. With a cold, calculated movement, I reached down and hauled him up by his collar, forcing him to face me.

    ¡°What were you going to do to her?¡± I growled, my voice a low, menacing rumble. I glanced towards the girl, who stood frozen in terror, watching the brutal scene unfold.

    The vampire stammered, words tumbling out in a desperate plea. ¡°P¡­ppp¡­ please,¡± he choked, blood spurting from his mouth with each syllable.

    I gripped his head, forcing his one remaining eye to meet mine. ¡°I said,¡± I snarled, ¡°what were you going to do?¡±

    He coughed and sputtered, blood pouring from his ruined mouth. The blonde vampire lay sprawled on the ground where he had landed from my earlier attack, eyes wide with helpless confusion. None of them had ever faced anything like me before. Their eyes mirrored the question that haunted me, the same question that burned in the gaze of every victim I left behind. What are you?

    The fire welled in my mouth as I willed my teeth to morph into fangs and jags. Then, I slammed my razor filled jaws into the dying vampire¡¯s neck, ripping and clawing through flesh. My powerful jaws crushed his spine. My talons sliced every strand of muscle and tissue that held him together until his head separated from the rest of him.

    I let his body, and head, drop to the ground. I could feel the blood dripping from my face and neck. It oozed all down the front of me until I was covered.

    I turned to see the woman, willing myself to push the parts of the monster I had summoned back down in its cage. She looked upon me with even more horror than her pursuers. I could see it in her eyes. She thought I¡¯d turn on her next.

    I wouldn¡¯t. The monster still wanted blood and death, but not hers.

    The last piece of shit vampire had bolted from the scene. I could hear his frantic footsteps fleeing the area, and I could smell his blood trailing behind him.

    I took off in a blurring sprint, ripping through the alley. I followed the scent of the loose end running from his fate.

    I sprinted down dark alleys, finding other branches of the trail, and followed them to the next turn. I kept the chase up for a few minutes, always staying a few steps behind him. I wanted him to lead me somewhere, a hideout maybe. I wanted to find more of his kind. If I knew where they stayed, I could pick them off whenever I needed to kill. Or I could help the people of St. Louis and kill them all in one night. He knew I was chasing him, so he made a bold move. One he knew I couldn¡¯t make in my current bloodied state. Or he at least hoped I wouldn¡¯t.

    I came upon the edge of an alley, following the scent of the vampire. Then, once at the border, I saw a crowd of people. He ran out into the sea of innocent civilians. Not only did this drown out the stench of his blood¡¯s makeup, but he also knew that I couldn¡¯t follow.

    He was right. I was covered in blood, it coated most of my face. It ran down, staining the neck and chest of my hoodie and shirt. I could feel the oily crimson warmly hugging my chest as I ran through the night. He was gone.

    He got away, his body and scent disappearing into the sea of humans. Now there was a vampire out there that had seen me. He saw my eyes and saw me kill two of his friends. Would he come for retribution, or would he even try to find me again? Maybe he would bring some friends, and then we could do this right. I could kill them all, actually transform and wipe them all out.

    Darker thoughts came.

    What if he tracked my scent? Would he find the Chasse¡¯s house? I knew my trail led there. It would be faint, and he¡¯d have to follow it through the sewers and caves, but it was there. He¡¯d get there eventually. He¡¯d kill them all. Carter, Eleanor, Autumn¡­ what if Delilah was there? Would he kill a child?

    My past crawled up from the depths again. It came up from the dark parts I tried to forget.

    ¡°Stop it,¡± I ordered myself, aloud.

    I shook my head and forced the thought from my mind. The only saving grace I thought I had was that I hadn¡¯t transformed. For all they knew, I was just something that overpowered them. They didn¡¯t see the real me. Still, I had to find that guy.

    One thing at a time. Stay focused.

    I backed away from the edge of the alley, looking at all the humans. They were so unsuspecting of the world around them. They knew nothing of the creatures that swarmed the dark, or of the monster that watched from the shadows. I backed down into the alley and stealthily made it back to the nearest storm drain. I pulled myself into the hole and fell beneath the city for a while.

    It was silent. I liked it, it was¡­ sort of calm down there. I could walk in peace for hours, exploring the forgotten caves beneath the tunnels. So, I walked. I walked until I recognized the subterranean area where I knew my ramshackle of a hideout was sitting. Perched right beside the river.

    I came out of a manhole cover about a mile down the road from my abode. I didn¡¯t walk straight to the factory. First, I walked to the river. I waded into the rushing current of the water. I didn¡¯t get out too far, just staying neck-deep out in the Mississippi.

    Tugboats steamed by, pushing humongous lengths of barges. One passed, and it had about six or seven black steel barges in front of the tug. It was a floating football field.

    I let the current rush through my clothes and over my face. The blood slowly rinsed itself from my clothes and off my skin. I floated with the current, trying to relax and ease my mind out of the killing state it had been in. I floated all the way down to the factory, just staring up at the polluted, smog cloaked night sky. I did this at times to try and clear my mind and relax after I got too high strung. The sound of the water was soothing.

    I used the river to disappear, so my scent couldn¡¯t be tracked. If someone did track me by smell, then they would follow my trail to the river and then lose it. It would just vanish.

    I was back inside, after hanging my wet clothes from a line behind the old decrepit factory. I hoped that once my clothes dried, they¡¯d be wearable again. If not, I¡¯d have to go get more to replace the dwindling supply I had.

    That reminded me of something. I needed a cell phone; ordinary people had cell phones. Carter had given me his number for the next time I wanted to talk or come over. It would be strange if I didn¡¯t have one in this day and age.

    I threw on some dry clothes and headed back into town. I stuck to the shadows, kept my hood up, and avoided people as much as I could. I felt fine. Actually, I felt great after the two kills. I felt somewhat normal, but I just didn¡¯t ever want to push it if I didn¡¯t have to. So, I stayed away. It sounded hypocritical, but these people were unsuspecting. They knew nothing of the real world. The Chasse family knew, and they were already deep in my world. I guess that¡¯s how I began to justify seeing them again.

    I made it to a twenty-four-hour supermarket. I knew that this store had an electronics department, so they had to have prepaid cell phones. I walked to the back, and sure enough, they did. Wondering eyes studied me, looked me up and down. I guess it was weird for an ordinary person to keep their hood over their head once inside. Nobody looked for too long. They didn¡¯t want to make eye contact.

    I found the cheapest, shittiest cell phone and the card to activate it. I went to the counter and bought it. I wanted to just take it, but I knew that these things had weird activation procedures. I was pretty sure that it had to be sold to be activated. Luckily, I found ways to collect money every now and then. I had a small stash of cash for strange circumstances such as this.

    I made some cash working as a lumberjack just outside of the city for a few days once. It was definitely an under the table kind of gig, so I disappeared pretty quickly after a few days. It was off the books anyway so there were not a lot of questions. Things like that popped up from time to time and if I was feeling good, I¡¯d make a little and then disappear again. I didn¡¯t really need money, so I didn¡¯t do this often.

    I had my phone, now I just needed to make the call. I wondered if I even would. Should I put myself back in their lives? Should I put them in danger? I knew the right answer to all these questions, and I was still going to do it anyway. I had to make sure they were safe, especially now that a vampire had seen me and survived.

 Chapter 13 - Martin

    It was about midday on Wednesday. It had been three days since I was with the Chasses. I wanted to go back over there so bad, but I had to keep my fake routine. I was supposed to be at work. They thought I was working a construction job, so I couldn¡¯t just come over in the middle of the day when the rest of the world was working. So, I sat in the factory alone and miserable.

    My mind stayed far off, reliving my memories from my time with them. I had even gone over to their house every night just to check on them. I had to make sure that they were okay, especially after my run-in with the vampires. I couldn¡¯t stop picturing the blonde vampire that eluded me, finding them by following my scent. Every night since, I stayed in the woods that lined their neighborhood, watching them from a distance, guarding them in secret from any unannounced visitors. It was my fault after all.

    I couldn¡¯t stop worrying about them. I knew that they could probably defend themselves if attacked in their own home. There was silver everywhere. Nothing could get them, let alone even get close, but I still worried.

    When I thought about it, I had only been with them twice, but they still treated me like family, at least what it felt like around family. It was all because I knew their big family secret and accepted it, asking to know more. Not to mention they saw me handle their silver with no ill effect. That was all the evidence they needed to try and pull me in deeper. Shit, Frank wanted to induct me in as a full-fledged hunter already, even come to work for them. I laughed at the thought.

    I waited, patiently, in my dank lair, wishing I was in their home. The smell of the ancient factory was musty and decayed. I remembered Autumn¡¯s hair, the way it smelled after she had showered on Sunday. God¡­ I just wanted to be back in their home, I just wanted to feel accepted again, like I had friends. I wanted Autumn to look at me again, the way she looked at me all those times in her house and in the car.

    It was around four-thirty, I had waited long enough. I pulled out my newly acquired cell phone and selected Carter¡¯s number, which I had programmed in already. It was the only number I had saved. It rang only three times before he answered.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Carter¡¯s familiar voice chirped in my ear.

    ¡°Carter, it¡¯s Sam,¡± I said.

    He was silent for a moment as he realized who he was talking to, ¡°Sam, what¡¯s going on? I haven¡¯t heard from you in a few days,¡± he said, wary that I wanted nothing to do with them.

    ¡°Yeah, sorry¡­ work, you know how it is. My day job doesn¡¯t allow me much time to go hunt the creatures of the night. Not if I want a check, anyway,¡± I laughed.

    He snickered, ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t think they would.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s been happening? Anything new come up since Sunday¡­ you know, about what Jane told us?¡± I asked feverishly.

    He answered quickly, ¡°Actually, I¡¯m going to check something out in a little bit. You want to come?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, definitely,¡± I agreed quickly. I wanted more chances to pick his brain.

    ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Can you meet me at my house? Or I can pick you up if you need a ride.¡±

    My solitary nature wanted to take the tunnels out to his part of town, but I couldn¡¯t keep showing up out of nowhere, no car or ride anywhere in sight. I hadn¡¯t solved that problem yet like I had with the cell phone. They¡¯d start wondering how I got to their house, and it might tip them off enough to start digging. I couldn¡¯t have them learn anything about me. Not the real me, anyway.

    ¡°Could you pick me up from where you dropped me off Sunday night? As long as it¡¯s not a problem¡­¡±

    ¡°Not at all, I¡¯ll head there now. I should be there in twenty,¡± Carter said.

    ¡°Sounds good, I¡¯ll be there,¡± I said, then shutting the small flip phone.

    I paced anxiously through the dim corridors of the old factory. I couldn¡¯t stand still. I felt like a kid going back to school for the first day after summer vacation. I wondered if any of the Chasse¡¯s had changed since the last time I saw them, if they thought about me since I left, or if they¡¯d treat me like they did before.

    They treated me like family, as one of them. It was foreign to me after the last two years. I had to be better this time, to act like an average person. I had barely said two words the first night with them, and the second day I hadn¡¯t said much either, except to Autumn. I was very observational now, always taking everything in, looking for hidden truths. That¡¯s how I found my prey, but I couldn¡¯t be like that with them.

    The thought of Autumn made me get even more nervous. I wanted to see her again. I hoped she¡¯d be there.

    I went for my jacket, throwing it over my hoodie and making my escape from the factory and all it represented. The cold, dark walls that trapped me were no more, and all that waited for me now was warmth, friends, and possibly¡­ family. I hoped.

    I had all of my essentials; my cell phone, my silver blade, my jacket, and the monster. It skimmed just beneath the surface of my consciousness, waiting, ready to be summoned. It wasn¡¯t clawing to get out. It had been like a bear in hibernation after so many kills the past week.

    I continued pacing, thinking about what I was doing, what I was risking. I started to fight myself, teetering on the edge of my decisions, but then I stopped. I liked what I was feeling, and I didn¡¯t want to fight it anymore. I was turning into a selfish beast.

    I made my way downtown swiftly, and after about fifteen minutes Carter pulled to a stop against the curb of a semi-busy street. The window to the black Suburban rolled down smoothly. Carter looked across the small distance to me, waving me over to the car. I sprang forth from a light post where I waited, jogging over to the passenger side. I opened the door and slid into the seat, taking a deep breath to prepare myself for any knee jerk reactions by the monster. Being around humans was never one hundred percent easy, no matter how recently I killed, so I was still cautious.

    ¡°You had us nervous,¡± Carter said, pulling away from the curb.

    I wrapped my seatbelt around me and craned my head to the back. It was then that I noticed that there were others in the car. Their scents hit me at the same time I saw them.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.

    Autumn and Clara were sitting right behind us in the middle row. Autumn was silent, but she was looking up at me, smiling. Her dark chestnut hair was pulled back tightly in a couple of fancy braids. It seemed more tactical, especially since Clara¡¯s was similarly done.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t think you¡¯d come back after you left Sunday,¡± Clara jested. ¡°We thought the werewolves were the straw that broke the camel¡¯s back.¡±

    I smirked at the thought, like I could be scared away. Not likely.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m good. Just had to make a few appearances at work,¡± I laughed.

    ¡°Well, whatever the case,¡± Carter said, ¡°we¡¯re glad you came back. It¡¯s hard to find people like you, who aren¡¯t too scared to fight. But you always have the choice if you decide that this isn¡¯t the life you want.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll remember that.¡±

    We were all silent for a few moments. It wasn¡¯t awkward, it was just peaceful. I had a stray thought.

    ¡°What about the rest of you guys? The actual family, do you have the option to leave all this? If that¡¯s what you want?¡±

    Carter¡¯s look was a strong one, a proud one.

    ¡°If someone in our family wanted out, to live a normal life, we wouldn¡¯t stop them. We all have the option to leave, we just don¡¯t,¡± he said.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, confused.

    Why would they risk themselves, their family, and their friends to fight monsters? I wouldn¡¯t risk what I left behind in Dallas.

    ¡°Since we know the way the world actually works, we do what we have to do to stop bad things from happening,¡± Carter said. ¡°Since I know, I must use what I know to stop them. I can¡¯t let anything happen to my family, and that is why I do it. I know what¡¯s out there, so I fight them because I know the truth. I fight for my family.¡±

    ¡°We all do,¡± Clara added. Autumn nodded along to her statement.

    ¡°Since we know, we have a responsibility to do something. Ignoring the fact of what actually exists, wouldn¡¯t change the truth. Things are out there, looking to kill. So, we train, we hunt, we kill to protect ourselves, our families, and others we can help.¡± Carter smirked, ¡°Besides, once you know what exists, it¡¯s kind of hard to live a normal life. Something is always out there, lurking around a dark corner.¡±

    ¡°No matter how much we want a normal life for ourselves, the fact remains, this is the real world. When you accept that, then you can embrace the life we lead,¡± Clara said.

    I felt I understood them better now. Just doing nothing wasn¡¯t an option for them. If I knew about this back before I was turned, would I have done the same thing?

    ¡°So how do you keep everyone safe? I mean¡­ wouldn¡¯t something be able to track you to your house?¡± I could track by scent, it was easy. What stopped a curious monster from following them home?

    ¡°We don¡¯t leave any survivors,¡± Autumn spoke quietly, looking out her window.

    Carter piggybacked off her statement, ¡°The silver bombs we use, weaken their senses. That is our main method of attack. Once we disorient them with silver, we take them out quick, no hesitations.¡±

    ¡°Like the other night?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes, but usually, we are much more coordinated. We weren¡¯t sure about those three being there, and we really didn¡¯t plan on you being there either. We just wanted to see if any clues presented themselves. We only acted when we saw you. They would have killed you if we hadn¡¯t,¡± Carter said.

    If I had stood there and let them try, it would have been unlikely. They wouldn¡¯t have been able to really hurt me. Even I hadn¡¯t done that yet.

    ¡°If something does evade us and tries to follow us home, we have a series of barriers that we use to lose anything that is following our trail.¡± Clara chimed in.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. This was getting interesting.

    ¡°We have distortion zones. They¡¯re areas that the creatures can¡¯t go near. They make them¡­ hazy. It dulls their senses and puts a kind of fog on them. We use them to our advantage, navigating through them to make it home safe. But, usually, we can kill them all in a single fight when we¡¯re out on a hunt, so those are the last resort.¡±

    ¡°What are they? How do they work?¡± I wondered if they¡¯d work on me.

    ¡°Silver mostly, but a few are specialized. Certain creatures are weak against other things, as well as silver. Silver is the one thing that affects them all, and the most powerful. We use these materials to line buildings and structures around the city to create these zones.¡±

    Clara chuckled, ¡°Our day job. It pays quite nice too.¡±

    Carter could sense my thoughts, ¡°That¡¯s the family business. We own and operate a construction company of our own, but we focus mainly on restorations of older buildings. That¡¯s how we can get away with lining places in trace silver and embedded wardings.¡±

    Then, I realized what Frank meant.

    ¡°Oh¡­ I see it now.¡±

    Clara laughed when I understood, ¡°Yeah, we were all looking at you as the perfect addition to our family. You already went toe to toe with a blood sucker, and you just happened to work in construction.¡± She patted my shoulder from behind, ¡°It¡¯s like you were sent to us.¡±

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°So that¡¯s what Frank meant the other day.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Carter nodded. ¡°It¡¯s an option for you¡­ if you want.¡±

    I glanced up at the rear-view mirror. Autumn eyed me intently, trying to read my thoughts. Her gaze lingered on me, waiting to see what I would say. If I said anything.

    I nodded, taking it all in. ¡°So, how would that play out, if I came to work for you?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t believe what I was saying. The part of me that usually reigned in stray thoughts was nowhere to be found. I was falling in deep with the Chasses. I wanted to be with them, talk with them, learn from them, and fight with them. The short time that I knew them was intense for me. For them, I wasn¡¯t sure what it was like, but I had been alone for two years, so this was all hitting me a lot harder than it should. I was starting to care for them.

    ¡°Well, if you came to work for us, we could have you doing a variety of different things. The company, CWT Construction, does many different things, but everything we do is a way to keep fighting monsters. All our earnings go towards keeping our operation funded. But there are always other things that come up that we could have you do.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± I agreed, mainly with myself. I already made up my mind, fuck the consequences. I just couldn¡¯t look back.

    Autumn¡¯s eyes were wide in the rear-view mirror, waiting for me to continue.

    ¡°As long as you¡¯ll have me, I¡¯ll join up.¡±

    Clara pulled out her phone and started texting, ¡°Frank is gonna be so excited. He hasn¡¯t shut up about you since Sunday.¡±

    Autumn was looking down in her seat, her posture hiding her face from the mirror. I wondered about her thoughts. Did she want me around more? Maybe I was an intruder in her life, and she was just polite. Maybe she could sense something wrong with me.

    ¡°We can work out the details later,¡± Carter said as we came to a stop.

    We pulled into the parking lot of a small, standalone building. It had neon signs hanging in almost every window, but they were off. No light escaped through the cracks in the blinds that hung in every glass panel. It was dark and apparently closed.

    Carter turned in his seat, ¡°You two stay here and cover the door, monitor the radios, and listen for back-up.¡±

    Autumn and Clara nodded. Clara half crawled over her seat and pulled a duffle from the very back.

    ¡°You¡¯re coming with me,¡± Carter said. ¡°There is someone I want you to meet.¡±

    I glanced back toward the entrance of the modest building, its weathered facade illuminated by the flickering neon sign above the windows. The sign read, in bold, faded letters, "Martin¡¯s Bar and Grill." A sudden clarity struck me, pieces of the puzzle snapping into place in my mind. This was the infamous vampire Martin''s lair, the same place where Carter and Frank ventured to on Sunday.

    Carter stepped out of the car first, his movements deliberate and confident. I followed closely, matching his pace as we approached the entrance. In the backseat, Clara and Autumn were busy, their expressions focused as they loaded two small handguns from a duffle bag, the metallic clicks of ammunition sliding into chambers breaking the silence in my ears.

    We walked briskly to the front door, the air thick with anticipation. Carter didn¡¯t hesitate for a moment as he pushed through the door, his determination evident in every step. We found ourselves in a small, dimly lit entryway, the walls adorned with corkboards laden with flyers for various local events¡ªbake sales, missing pets, community meetings. The air smelled faintly of old paper and dust.

    At the far end of the entryway, a set of locked double doors barred our path. Carter reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, tarnished key. With practiced ease, he inserted it into the lock and turned it, the sound of the tumblers clicking echoing in the confined space. He pulled the door open, revealing whatever lay beyond.

    ¡°I¡¯ll introduce you, but I¡¯ll do the talking. Just stick beside me the whole time, and we¡¯ll be fine,¡± Carter said.

    I nodded.

    ¡°Team one, team two¡­ radio check,¡± he spoke into his shoulder.

    ¡°L-C, how us?¡± a voice replied.

    ¡°L-C,¡± Carter answered.

    We stepped into the room, swallowed by shadows that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. The dim light barely penetrated the gloom, casting eerie, elongated silhouettes that danced along the walls. I followed Carter closely, my senses on high alert, attuned to every whisper of movement, every creak and groan of the ancient building.

    The air was thick with the stale scent of old fry oil and cigarette smoke, a nauseating blend that dredged up memories of a dingy bowling alley from my childhood. We navigated through the labyrinth of stacked chairs and tables, their worn surfaces ghostly in the faint light. Pushing through a pair of grimy swinging doors, we entered the kitchen. The dim, flickering fluorescent lights did little to chase away the oppressive darkness.

    At the far end of the kitchen, a narrow hallway stretched out, a thick metal door looming ominously at its end. Carter raised a hand, halting me at the threshold. He moved forward alone, his steps echoing ominously. Reaching the door, he rapped his fist against the metal, three deliberate, commanding knocks that reverberated through the corridor.

    Silence followed, thick and heavy, before the sound of internal locks disengaging filled the air with a mechanical clatter. The door groaned in protest as it swung open, rusty hinges screaming. From the depths of the shadows behind the door, a figure emerged¡ªa man of medium build with light brown hair. His youthful appearance was betrayed by his pale blue eyes, which held a weariness that spoke of centuries. He gazed at us, unperturbed, as if expecting our arrival.

    "Carter," he greeted in a surprisingly amiable tone, a stark contrast to the grim surroundings.

    ¡°Martin, how are things?¡± he replied.

    So, this was Martin. This was who he and Frank went to see after our morning with the werewolves.

    ¡°Everything is fine with me. However, I can see that you have been recruiting,¡± Martin eyed me. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since you¡¯ve found a new one.¡±

    I could smell his blood. It was a similar stench to the other vampire¡¯s, a mixed bag of crimson lifeforce, except his was slightly different. Something¡­ not human, lingered in his blood. I hadn¡¯t smelled this on any of the other vampires. Theirs was like concentrated crowds of humans bottled up into one person. Yet, he was different somehow.

    ¡°It sure has. Martin, this is Sam. Sam¡­Martin,¡± Carter introduced. ¡°We met him on the night we went to the warehouse. He killed one of them,¡± Carter said. ¡°Thanks for the tip, by the way.¡±

    Martin flashed a swift look of disbelief, but it faded faster than it appeared.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± he said, eyeing me up and down. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you,¡± he reached out to shake.

    Carter looked at me and nodded, giving me the, its safe, nod. I played along, trying to act how I thought a normal person would. I slowly reached for his hand and shook, not using too much strength to give myself away as anything other than human.

    Martin smiled, trying to ease me into the situation. ¡°That¡¯s impressive, killing one of my kind. You sure you¡¯ve never fought one of us before?¡± he laughed, yet a serious tone lay beneath his words.

    Actually, I hadn¡¯t, but since my first run in, I had killed three others.

    ¡°Nope,¡± I laughed, playing the part.

    Was it really that hard to kill a vampire if you were an untrained human? It seemed a far stretch for me, but then I had to remember how weak I used to be as a human.

    ¡°We actually came to talk to you on Sunday, but you weren¡¯t here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I was out¡­ preoccupied with a few things.¡± I wondered what.

    They actually seemed friendly, strained, but friendly.

    ¡°I need you to look at something, see what you can make of it,¡± Carter said.

    Martin raised his eyebrows, ¡°How can I help?¡±

    ¡°Detective Ames gave me some pictures of a crime scene. It was very unusual. It looked like an animal attack, but there was also arson.¡± Carter handed him the pictures. No fear of getting too close to him. Martin showed no signs of attack. ¡°I talked with Jane about this before coming to see you on Sunday. She said that she had seen bodies like these before, out in the woods. She says it¡¯s none of her pack, that it¡¯s something else.¡±

    Martin slowly examined each picture and then shuffled to the next. He eyed them curiously as Carter recounted the last few days of investigation, which led to nothing.

    ¡°Jane says that she found bodies like these in her woods?¡± Martin asked.

    ¡°Just a few times over the past two years, but she said that they had to be from the same thing that killed these men,¡± Carter pointed to the pictures. ¡°The carnage was identical to her.¡±

    Martin was silent, weighing things in his mind. He knew something. I could read it like it was written on his forehead.

    ¡°You know¡­¡± Martin stopped to think. ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories over the past few years, rumors really, of someone ripping through people like a wild animal. It is unusual. I¡¯ve heard vampires that come in here talking about it from time to time. People would just go missing, or they¡¯d turn up somewhere far away, ripped in half, or shredded beyond recognition.¡±

    ¡°Like these men here?¡± Carter asked, pointing to the pictures again.

    ¡°Exactly like this. At least that¡¯s the story anyway. I¡¯ve never heard of any concrete evidence like this, however,¡± Martin motioned to the photographs. ¡°But, there has never been anything like this arson. Why would a creature kill all these people and then burn it down? It brings too much attention to our kind. There are consequences for things like this.¡±

    ¡°The police don¡¯t know what to make of it. To be completely honest, neither do I. After all the time I spent asking around this week, I feel like we are just chasing a ghost. No one knows anything; the Wicklows, the other gypsies, the werewolves, none of my other contacts from your world¡­ nobody,¡± Carter was at a loss. ¡°I haven¡¯t spoken to Annabelle yet, but you know her. She¡¯ll reach out before I even have the question.¡±

    Shit, I was at a loss. I didn¡¯t know what Carter had been doing all week, searching for clues, searching for me. I wondered who all of his other contacts were.

    ¡°And Jane says that it was no one in her pack? She knows this for certain?¡± Martin asked double-checking.

    ¡°She¡¯s sure. Look here,¡± Carter directed Martin¡¯s attention to a particular picture. ¡°None of these bodies were fed on, just killed. If it was a werewolf, they would have fed on at least a few of them.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s right¡­¡± Martin said and then went silent. He examined every picture again with this new revelation. Something flashed across Martin¡¯s face.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Carter asked.

    Thoughts and memories were turning in his eyes. Finally, he looked back at us.

    ¡°I used to never give these stories too much thought, but¡­¡± he trailed off. ¡°Something happened here the other night, with another vampire.¡± He shook his head, leaning against the wall. ¡°Why didn¡¯t I see it sooner,¡± he berated himself.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Carter.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that these incidents are unrelated.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°A vampire ran in here the other night, clothes torn and spattered with blood.¡± He replayed the memories through his words. ¡°He was running from something. Something that he said killed two other vampires that were with him.¡±

    I could hear Autumn or Clara saying something on the radios, probably just talking to each other about what was being told.

    ¡°I¡¯ve rarely seen a vampire running scared, not since the late eighteen hundreds; back when we hunted our own kind. This boy was scared, he said that something fought all three of them in an alley, right as they were about to feed on a girl.¡±

    Shit¡­ it was me¡­ again. The vampire that escaped me the other night had fled to Martin¡¯s. It was probably looking for safety in numbers. I should have never let him escape.

    The monster moved inside as I remembered the helpless human girl, running to stay alive. Flashes of tearing through those assholes clouded my mind. It felt good.

    ¡°He said that it ripped through the other two like they were nothing. One of them was trying to fight it off, but it just powered through him. He said he could hear the bones snapping under the creature¡¯s attacks. Then it lunged into the other one and tore his head from his shoulders. He said they never had a chance.¡±

    ¡°What can do that to three vampires? Are they sure it was only one¡­ person?¡± Carter searched for a word for the unknown killer.

    ¡°Yes, just the one. He said it was unstoppable; he actually used the word. This is the strange part, he says that it fell from the top of a building, landed right in between them and the girl they were going to kill, and then it attacked. It threw him like a ragdoll into a brick wall, and then started on the others. That¡¯s how he escaped. It was busy with the other two.¡±

    ¡°Did he get a look at it, its face?¡±

    ¡°Not a good one. He said the man wore a hood over his head, and it was dark so he couldn¡¯t make out much. But¡­ he did say that he saw the eyes during the attack. He said they were completely black.¡±

    Carter was silent for a moment, taking in this new detail. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of that before,¡± Carter said, trying to recount everything he had ever read from his bestiaries.

    ¡°Neither have I¡­,¡± Martin spoke ominously, ¡°and I¡¯ve been around for a while.¡± Martin shrugged, ¡°There¡¯s something else too. He said that its claws were different. They were longer than anything he had seen, more like talons. They were just as black as the eyes.¡±

    Carter put the pieces together, ¡°It¡¯s the same thing, it has to be. Jane said she could tell that whatever killed those men that she found in her woods had longer claws than any werewolf. It has to be the same thing¡­ but what is it¡­¡± Carter trailed off, confused and deep in thought.

    ¡°I cannot say. This is new to me. I know that is not usually the case, but I don¡¯t know,¡± Martin said. ¡°There are a few things I can look into, but it will take some time and serious effort.¡± He looked a little unwilling about the last part.

    Carter nodded, ¡°Okay. We¡¯ll do our own investigation; run through our usual channels to see what we can find. This thing had to come from somewhere. Someone has to know something.¡±

    ¡°Be careful,¡± Martin warned. ¡°This isn¡¯t our only threat. The vampires know about the kills at the warehouse.¡±

    Carter looked up sharply.

    ¡°They don¡¯t know who killed them, obviously, or how the location was discovered, but they know that they are dead, all four of them.¡±

    Carter nodded, relieved, but then looked at Martin in confusion, ¡°You mean three¡­¡±

    ¡°I told you three, I know, but I found out later that there were four. I was relieved when I heard that all four of them had been killed.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about,¡± Carter and Martin stared back and forth to each other, confused. ¡°There were only three; I killed one, Frank killed one, and Sam killed the last.¡± He looked to me as he recounted my assist.

    I did kill the last, but I also got the one who hid. Yet another clue I left behind.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but there was another, and he is now dead, on the very same night as the others.¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡± I asked, intrigued.

    ¡°Vampires¡­ we can sense others in our bloodline, especially generationally close ones; made by the same vampire, if you will,¡± he put in laymen¡¯s terms. ¡°Another vampire in their bloodline came here, asking questions. He said that all four of them had been cut from his senses. That¡¯s what happens when they are killed; they can¡¯t be felt by others in their family.¡±

    ¡°Well, we only killed three. If there was a fourth, then he died by someone else¡¯s hand.¡±

    ¡°Interesting¡­ I¡¯ll look into this as well,¡± Martin said. ¡°Perhaps by this new creature¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take our usual precautions. I¡¯ll wait to hear from you.¡±

    ¡°Always a pleasure, Carter,¡± Martin said, then looked to me again. ¡°It was nice to meet you, Sam. I hope to see you again.¡±

    He shouldn¡¯t hope for that. He had just entered into my realm of possibilities. If I needed a kill and had chosen no one else, he would do. I felt no pangs of guilt for killing a vampire, none at all.

    ¡°Same,¡± I nodded and backed out with Carter.

    We exited the building and walked back across the parking lot. Carter and I hopped into the Suburban, and Carter took off.

    Clara spoke as soon as we got in, ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Carter spoke but stared off through the windshield. ¡°Something is out there, but we don¡¯t what it is or why it¡¯s killing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s killing humans and creatures. What would do that?¡± Autumn spoke from the back seat.

    ¡°We need to get everyone together. If it is real, then that means that all of the stories we¡¯ve heard recently are true, and it has been killing humans. That puts it in our wheelhouse. We need to know what we are dealing with,¡± Carter started making plans in his head.

    Fuck¡­ this was bad. I just found this group who accepted me, and I didn¡¯t want to leave. I wanted to stay with them. I wanted to have friends. But, I was going to have to make a decision, and very soon. I had to decide if I was staying or going.

    ¡°So, what do we do now?¡± I asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re going home,¡± Carter answered.

    I looked to the back and saw Autumn looking at me intently. She gave me a soft smile. Autumn looked at me like I was made of glass. She didn¡¯t want this new unknown threat to scare me away. If they knew the truth, it would be the other way around.

 Chapter 14 - Autumn

    We had pulled into the garage, the engine''s hum dying away as we parked. One by one, we piled out of the car. I trailed behind Carter, Autumn, and Clara as we made our way into the house. Once inside, they dispersed like frantic bees, buzzing around, making urgent phone calls and yanking books from the library shelves. I sank into the living room couch, my mind racing with what they might uncover.

    In the chaotic heat of the moment, a gnawing worry clawed at me. I feared I might be forced to abandon this fragile semblance of a life I had only recently managed to piece together. The thought twisted my insides and put a haze over my mind that was hard to see through. But as the minutes ticked by, I started to perceive this turmoil through a different lens. Maybe this was my chance, a twisted gift wrapped in anxiety. An opportunity to be on the front lines with the hunters, to delve into the mysteries of my own cursed nature. If anyone could uncover the truth¡­ it could be them. I could assist them. Nudge them in the right direction with what I knew about myself. It could work, and they¡¯d be none the wiser.

    I mulled over my options. I could keep a lower profile, though it felt nearly impossible given how meticulously careful I thought I already had been. But I guess I was an amateur compared to these older creatures that hid themselves from me. But I could try. I could hunt farther from town, ensuring the bodies were scattered over a wider area that no one would trace back to St. Louis. The thought seemed daunting, but necessary. I had to do it. I needed to do it.

    Every fiber of my being yearned to stay embedded in this family, to savor the warmth of their company for just a while longer. The mask I wore was suffocating at times. The thought and control of what I said and did around them was in a realm of its own. But the alternative was a lonely descent into madness. So, I steeled myself, resolving to keep the monster hidden. For now, at least, I could maintain this illusion, no matter the cost. I had to know, and it was getting easier to admit that I had to stay. I wanted to stay.

    Autumn came over to me in the living room, looking a bit frazzled but trying to be kind. ¡°Sorry, this is all we have at the moment.¡± She handed me a glass of the same red juice she drank just a few days earlier.

    Weirdly, it made me feel a bit closer to her. Despite all the chaos, I felt strangely at home here, like it reminded me of my own family. Memories started to creep up. Thoughts of sitting in our living room with Seth on Saturday mornings watching our favorite cartoons, drinking this very same type of juice. I was lost in another world for a moment. It was excruciating. I had to push the thoughts back, not wanting to deal with the pain and loss right now.

    ¡°Thanks¡­¡± I said, not sure what I was supposed to do while everyone else was running around like headless chickens. So, I just sat there and drank the sour juice.

    Autumn smiled at me and nodded before dashing off again. I appreciated her and her drink more than she realized, however painful it was.

    I felt like a kid again, with the adults handling all the important stuff while I just sat quietly, clueless about what was happening or how I could help. I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle under my breath, trying to hide a smirk. It was pretty funny how everyone was so worked up. Meanwhile, the killer they were hunting was right there in the living room, sipping cranberry juice. The irony was almost too much. I felt my smirk fight its way out of my control and into a full-blown smile.

    Here they were, tearing through books and making frantic calls, trying to solve a big mystery, while I just sat there like a guest at a boring party. If they only knew. The whole situation was so absurd, I nearly choked on my drink. The hunters and the hunted, sharing the same space, brought together by nothing more than a glass of sour red juice.

    I was leaning forward, elbows on my knees, just waiting. Clara kept shooting glances over in my direction while she talked to Wayland on the phone. She muttered something to a passing Eleanor. They had all been gathering bestiaries and other ancient-looking books while making phone calls. I heard all the conversations as I waited. The Chasse family were all on their way over as Carter tried to get in touch with the Wicklows. I wondered if they were still out of town, or if they had already made it back from visiting their family. Annabelle. That faceless name shot a twinge of worry in my brain.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sam,¡± Eleanor apologized for keeping me waiting. ¡°We are all a little wrapped up with this thing right now. We haven¡¯t forgotten about you, I promise,¡± she gave a caring smile.

    ¡°Oh no, it¡¯s fine¡­ really. This seems like kind of a big deal,¡± I assured her. ¡°I¡¯m assuming this doesn¡¯t happen often¡­¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not often we uncover something we haven¡¯t run into before. Usually, our bestiaries will have something, so we are going to go through them all just in case,¡± Eleanor said.

    ¡°The vampire, Martin, said he didn¡¯t know what it could be either, based on the descriptions. Is that weird? Carter seemed¡­ concerned.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s strange. Martin is very old, and he has seen a lot in his years. For him not to know, or have some kind of idea, it¡¯s¡­ unsettling.¡± She had a dark thought fester in her mind. I could see it behind her eyes. She forced a smile to hide it.

    ¡°So, what is going on exactly,¡± I looked around at all the movement, trying to get more details.

    ¡°We¡¯re trying to make contact with the other families. The Wicklows, the Talbots, and a few others we know. We have to start researching.¡±

    ¡°The bestiaries?¡±

    ¡°Yes, searching for any old text, any old story, anything that someone might have heard over the years. Between our family, the Wicklows, and the Talbots, we have a vast collection of knowledge. Although we do share our information, some families have better-kept records on different creatures. That¡¯s why we need to get everyone together,¡± she explained.

    ¡°I thought the Talbots weren¡¯t a part of your hunting family, or whatever you call it,¡± I asked confused.

    ¡°Their role in our family is¡­ less than it used to be. But, when we need them, they always come. It was their family that exiled themselves after they were cursed, not us.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­ they were cursed? How¡¯s that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Well, how did you think they were turned into werewolves?¡± Eleanor laughed.

    I actually hadn¡¯t thought about the details yet, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I joined her, chuckling. ¡°I just assumed if you got bit, you¡¯d turn,¡± I said, thinking of my own brutal attack. But I wasn¡¯t even sure that¡¯s what turned me. It could have been more than just the bite of the monster.

    She continued laughing lightly, trying to stop smiling. I could see similar features in her face that reminded me of Autumn when she laughed.

    Just then, Autumn returned from around the small wall that separated the living room and kitchen.

    ¡°What are you two laughing at,¡± Autumn grinned at her mother. She looked at me, tilting her head to the side. She seemed thankful for the mental reprieve from the chaos.

    ¡°Sam was being funny. I was telling him about the Talbots and how they became werewolves,¡± Eleanor said.

    ¡°Oh¡­ that¡­¡± Autumn quickly went straight-faced. ¡°Actually, I think Uncle Frank is about to be here,¡± she warned her mother. It seemed like a sore subject.

    ¡°Oh, I see.¡± Eleanor halted the story abruptly, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Well, it¡¯s going to be hectic down here for a while. Why don¡¯t you take Sam upstairs? Give him a tour of the rest of the house. Then maybe you can fill him in on the Talbots. He should know if he¡¯s going to stay with us,¡± she suggested to Autumn, her voice carrying an unspoken weight.

    Autumn¡¯s smile curled mischievously, her brown eyes glinting with a hint of teasing. ¡°Come with me,¡± she said, the words a playful challenge.

    I jumped up from the couch, anticipation buzzing through me. No thoughts to slow my roll entered my mind. For the moment, I was all in. As I followed Autumn up the winding staircase, her scent enveloped me, sweet and intoxicating. It seeped into my senses, making my head swim. I couldn¡¯t get enough of it. I took in everything, blocking nothing out.

    We reached the top of the stairs, where two hallways diverged¡ªone to the left, the other straight ahead. She pointed to the first opening on the left. ¡°This is a little living area here,¡± she said, her voice casual. A large, comfy chair and a couple of loveseats surrounded a coffee table. ¡°This is where I usually study.¡±

    I nodded, trying to focus despite the distraction of her scent. We continued down the hallway. She pointed to the rooms on the right.

    ¡°This is the master bed and bath,¡± she said, then turned left at the end, indicating the other side. ¡°This is a utility closet and the upstairs bathroom.¡± Her voice echoed slightly in the empty spaces.

    We walked further, and she pointed to another room. ¡°This is our guest room, and at the end is my dad¡¯s office.¡±

    We poked our heads into the dark office, filled with books and a desk with a laptop sitting in the center. The room felt oddly foreboding, like it held secrets. Things not privy to the rest of the house.

    We turned left again, and she gestured to another door. ¡°This is our laundry room.¡± She moved past it quickly, almost too quickly. My heightened senses caught a flash of fabric on top of the dryer. Underwear. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the color spreading like wildfire. I could see the rush of blood beneath her skin, every tiny capillary expanding with embarrassment. Her heart rate quickened, the rhythmic pounding echoing in my ears like a distant drum. She sped up, her movements hurried and awkward, trying to escape the moment.

    I smirked unseen behind her.

    We turned left again, completing the circuit back to the last room by the stairs. I felt a mix of excitement and unease. There was something about Autumn, something hidden beneath her playful exterior. As we stood there, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I was on the brink of discovering something profound.

    ¡°This is my room,¡± Autumn said, pointing to a closed door. She opened the door and stepped in, all but closing the door on me. ¡°Sorry, can you give me a second. It¡¯s a mess in here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I chuckled.

    She shuffled around, bouncing back and forth across her large room. I heard her closet doors fold open, and then clothes being snatched up from across the floor. Then, they were thrown deep into the shadows of the closet.

    The door swung open fiercely, revealing a slightly out of breath Autumn. She was smiling and holding her arm out, inviting me in.

    ¡°This is my room,¡± she said, ¡°well, my room when I stay here. Sorry, it¡¯s a little messy.¡± She continued organizing things as I walked in.

    ¡°Where else do you stay?¡± I asked with a quick charge of jealousy ripping through me. I hoped it wasn¡¯t with Patrick.

    ¡°I have a dorm room on campus. I usually stay here, but sometimes I¡¯ll sleep there if I have a lot of studying to do.¡±

    Relief swept over me. The jealousy was gone, but in its place was a personal embarrassment. I was flustered. I didn¡¯t have the right to feel these things about this girl. I had no claim on her, no real relationship, just the imaginations that I had conjured since meeting her.

    ¡°Oh,¡± I accepted.

    She jumped on top of her bed and leaned back against the headboard. She pointed to the chair sitting just beside her bed, in front of a small work desk. I sat down, watching her watching me.

    Everything about her was beautiful and entrancing. Her deep, calculating eyes, hidden behind her smirk, analyzed me with an intensity that I had never felt from a woman before. Through my enhanced senses, I could see the way her pupils dilated, the slight furrow of her brow as she assessed me. It wasn¡¯t just her beauty that captivated me; it was the complexity behind those eyes, a maze of thoughts and emotions. She was observing me, watching for things. It was like a hunter version of what I did to people I was hunting, when I was searching for secrets.

    I didn¡¯t know if it was me or the monster within, but I wanted to leap across the space that separated us and grab her. The urge was primal, a desperate need to touch her, to be close to her. As she stretched out across the bed, her body became an irresistible distraction. Every muscle was tight and toned beneath her flesh, moving with a grace that was almost hypnotic.

    Her scent was overwhelming, a sweet and intoxicating aroma that seemed to shimmer in the air. I could almost see it emanating from her, a tantalizing mist that beckoned me closer. My senses drank in every detail. The subtle shift of her skin as she breathed, the soft rustle of fabric as she moved. Her heartbeat was a steady, mesmerizing rhythm, echoing in my ears and drawing me in.

    My face and ears grew hot as my blood surged harder with every second. I felt a flush creeping up my neck, my control slipping as the monster was rousing from its slumber. It pushed thoughts to the forefront of my mind. I looked down at the floor, trying to steady myself, to keep the desire at bay. But even then, I couldn¡¯t escape the vivid details my senses provided. It was the warmth radiating from her body, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the delicate curve of her lips. She was a siren, and I was helplessly ensnared by her allure.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s your deal?¡± she asked quickly.

    It took me by surprise, ¡°What do you mean?¡± I looked back up.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she apologized. ¡°That came off rude. I just mean¡­ are you really sticking around?¡±

    Her phrasing made me happy. Was I going to stay with them? I wanted nothing more. Well, not at the moment anyway. I twisted around in my mind as I took her in with my senses again.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I think so,¡± I answered.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re not too freaked out about all of this?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I shook my head. ¡°Should I be?¡±

    She laughed, ¡°Yes.¡± She quickly amended, ¡°I mean¡­ it¡¯s just¡­ you¡¯re taking all of this so well. We all talk about it. Ever since we met you the other night. This all seems second nature to you like you¡¯ve been around it for years, especially how you killed your first vampire. You didn¡¯t hesitate. Most people lock up around the things we fight.¡±

    ¡°It was easy. I knew he was trying to kill Carter and your uncles, so I killed him.¡± I tried to make it seem simple.

    She had a thankful look behind her eyes.

    ¡°We¡¯ve just never met anyone that was so easily brought into all of this. Usually, there is a lot of confusion, fear, denial, and then we never see them again. But¡­ not you.¡±

    She stared into my eyes again. It looked like she was searching for something. I wanted to move close to her.

    ¡°So, you thought I wouldn¡¯t stick around?¡± I asked.

    ¡°We thought you might have been in shock the first night. Then when you left the other day, we weren¡¯t sure you were coming back.¡±

    ¡°What did you all think when I called your dad this morning?¡± I chuckled.

    ¡°Excited,¡± she answered too fast. ¡°I mean¡­ we all were.¡± Her face blushed.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad I came back,¡± I said, stretching back into the chair.

    ¡°We are too. I know this is all going so fast, and we haven¡¯t really gotten to show that much yet, but my whole family really likes you. We want you here with us,¡± she said, sincerity in her voice.

    The monster was being overtaken by the side of me that usually didn¡¯t surface. It was my human side. It was the right side, not the dead husk I walked around in to hide the monster caged within. They wanted me here, and she wanted me here. I never dreamed I would be close to anything like this before. Not since becoming the killer that I was.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I know I¡¯ll learn as I go. I pick up a lot just by watching you guys.¡±

    ¡°Once everything settles down, we¡¯ll start training you,¡± she wiggled her eyebrows, grinning.

    I laughed at her excitement, ¡°What kind of training?¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    She mockingly looked at the ceiling like she was thinking hard, ¡°Shooting, silver molding, knife fighting, hand to hand¡­ whatever you want to learn.¡±

    ¡°Hand to hand,¡± I looked at her, sizing her up. She looked strong and capable, but I couldn¡¯t imagine her fighting to the death with a supernatural creature. I liked the thought of her staying far away, as overwatch for the others.

    She smirked, ¡°You don¡¯t think I could take you?¡± She shot out a hand, shoving my shoulder back, playfully.

    It felt amazing, just to feel her touch, even if she was trying to instigate me into a fight.

    I put my hands up in surrender and laughed, ¡°Oh no, I think you can take care of yourself.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on, that¡¯s no fun,¡± she grinned.

    I thought that it might just be me again, but it seemed like she really was flirting. I had been on my own for too long to really tell. I felt like a fifteen-year-old kid, stumbling around in my mind, trying to figure out this girl.

    She fell back on her bed, just lounging on the edge in front of me.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the deal with the Talbots?¡± I tried to change the subject, too unsure of what I would do if we continued our current path.

    She took a deep breath, getting serious, ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s definitely complicated. It¡¯s really only one part of a bigger story, our story, of how we came into this life. I¡¯ll try and keep it as simple as I can.¡± She slid down her mattress to sit on the floor, resting her back against the side of her bed.

    Her smallest movements stirred her aroma through the air. It was hard to focus on anything but the shifts of her body, her slow, deep breathing, and the watchful gaze of her eyes.

    ¡°So, a long time ago, our family found out about the things that we now hunt today. We learned more over time, but the first blight that they encountered was the vampires,¡± she said.

    ¡°When was this?¡± I asked.

    ¡°In the 1820s,¡± she said. ¡°Our family lived in a small village, east of Paris, far away from any big towns or cities. So did the Talbots, they were the nobles of the area. My family, however, they were hunters. They hunted anything that roamed the forests that surrounded them.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve always been hunters¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes. Only what we hunt is different,¡± she smiled. ¡°One winter, people started turning up dead. They¡¯d find them in their own beds, in the forest, and in alleys drained of blood. No one knew what was happening. Our family tried to fight, but they didn¡¯t know what they were fighting. That¡¯s when the gypsy clans showed up; the Wicklows and the Grimwoods. They taught the Chasses and the Talbots what was hunting them. They showed them how to use silver as a weapon, how to flush out vampires that hid in plain sight. Together, the four families killed the entire coven of vampires that was terrorizing their village.¡±

    ¡°What happened to the Grimwoods? I didn¡¯t see their name on the bestiaries,¡± I said, thinking back to the black books that packed an entire shelf of the Chasse library.

    ¡°Your right,¡± she said. ¡°They had a falling out with the rest of us. The Grimwoods hated the Talbots, most of them anyway. They thought they were rich snobs who didn¡¯t bring much to the hunt. The story goes that a Grimwood¡¯s son was promised the hand of one of the young Wicklow women.¡± Autumn rolled her eyes, ¡°Some kind of marriage to bond the families¡­ you know, that kind of crap. Unfortunately, the girl had already fallen in love with one of the Talbot men.¡±

    I was fixed on the story. I never looked away as she spoke.

    ¡°So, long story short, the girl decided she wasn¡¯t going to marry someone she didn¡¯t love and married the Talbot man in secret. When the Grimwoods found out about this, they were pissed. They thought that the Talbots had wronged them in the worst possible way. Hurting their bloodline or something.¡± She shook her head in dismissal.

    ¡°Just because the Wicklow girl didn¡¯t want to be with their son?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They wanted to keep the Wicklow and Grimwood families together, keeping the gypsy blood strong between them. Their power, or sight, or whatever you want to call it, is stronger if they have two gypsy parents. They saw this as a way the Talbots could make their future generations weak,¡± she explained.

    I nodded along.

    ¡°So, the Grimwoods put a curse on the Talbot bloodline. They turned them into werewolves,¡± she stated, observing my reaction.

    ¡°Wait¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°So¡­ how did they do that?¡±

    ¡°They knew a lot from their travels. They picked up all kinds of things as they hunted across the lands. Plus, their own power was strong, strong enough to invoke some kind of ancient power, to curse the Talbots into what we hunted.¡±

    ¡°They can do that?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ but probably not anymore. I think that kind of thing has been lost to them. Their power to ¡°see¡± things comes from something supernatural. So, they dug down deep, into old knowledge that they hadn¡¯t used in centuries, and learned how to make their power stronger, and darker. That¡¯s how they did it,¡± she finished.

    ¡°So¡­ magic is real too?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Sure¡­ some kind of force is out there. Just think about the silver, how it reacts to all of them. Why does it do that; why do vampires burn in the sun, why are werewolves bound to the moon? Something controls all of it, and that¡¯s what they were tapping into,¡± she tried to explain.

    It was vague, but I had learned to accept much in this life. There was so much I didn¡¯t know about how my own body worked. I couldn¡¯t explain it, so I accepted it, just as I was accepting magic, or some form of it, as a genuine possibility.

    I nodded again, wanting her to continue.

    ¡°So then, after they all realized what had happened, and the Talbots started turning into beasts, agreements had to be made. The Grimwoods were banished from our collective hunting family. They were turning into something unrecognizable, so the Wicklows took everything they had, all their texts, knowledge, and money. They were a bigger family so they could make the Grimwoods leave without a fight. The Talbots, however, left us of their own free will. They knew that they couldn¡¯t control themselves, and they distanced themselves from us way back then. Once they learned to control what they had become, they returned¡­ partly.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They all left for America; the Chasses, the Wicklows, and the Talbots. They came all the way to St. Louis and have been here ever since. The Wicklows and my family stay very close. Everyone lives within driving distance. Everyone in my family lives on this same road, that¡¯s why everyone is always over all the time. They just show up whenever they want.¡± She laughed. ¡°But the Talbots stay away from us. Close enough that they can come if we need them, but far enough to be separate from us.¡±

    ¡°So, all of the Talbots are cursed?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, actually. That¡¯s the difficult part. The curse affects them randomly. The curse can grab hold of them at any age in life, man or woman,¡± Autumn looked like she was thinking of something.

    I thought back to Jane Talbot. She said, ¡®Tell Frank I said hi.¡¯ I started to understand what had happened, and why Autumn didn¡¯t want to talk about this in front of her uncle.

    ¡°Frank and Jane¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re observant,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah, they were together before she changed. They thought that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Then the curse came for her. They were both only twenty when it happened, but they really loved each other. It still affects him, that¡¯s why we don¡¯t talk about it. It¡¯s also the reason why he was back-up on Sunday when we went to see her. It¡¯s difficult for them to be around each other,¡± she said, sadness for her uncle hid beneath her eyes.

    ¡°So, are they really that dangerous? Why did we have all of the guns if they are still friends of the family?¡± I asked, thinking it seemed unnecessary.

    ¡°Our relationship with them is good but strained. We never let our guard down around them, for our sake and theirs. It just keeps everyone on the up and up. It makes us all remember the reality of the situation. Jane actually requests that, if we come, we come armed. She doesn¡¯t want anyone in her family or any visitors to forget what they are. She¡¯s a good leader.¡± Autumn sounded like she was admiring her.

    ¡°Is Frank the oldest Chasse?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Autumn answered.

    ¡°Is he married, or does he have any kids, girlfriend?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Autumn said. ¡°He¡¯s alone. After she changed and they split, Frank went into a kind of depression. He was like that for a long time. My dad said that he used to be very reckless, hunting carelessly, even branching off and living with some of our cousins for a time. They do things quite differently from us. It fit Frank¡¯s recklessness at the time. Finally, he came out of it and returned to us, but he¡¯s never moved on. I think in some way, he still thinks of her as the person he is supposed to be with, even though they aren¡¯t.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what to say, ¡°That sucks.¡±

    Autumn nodded sympathetically, ¡°Yeah¡­ it does. When she decided to leave him, she never looked back.¡±

    ¡°She left him?¡± I asked.

    She nodded, ¡°She didn¡¯t want to hurt him. They learn to control themselves most of the time, but full moons are a different story. Full moons completely transform them, whether they want to or not. They become raging monsters. She couldn¡¯t trust herself around him on a full moon, so she left him.¡±

    ¡°What about what he wanted?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ Frank loved Jane. He didn¡¯t care what she had become. He just wanted to stay with her, no matter what. Help her through it¡­¡±

    I could see emotions cracking the tough exterior that she tried to keep up. She loved her uncle immensely. I could see the strong bond in her feelings. She composed herself and pushed up a more hardened front after she felt her cheeks go hot with a blush.

    ¡°That¡¯s why he jokes all the time¡­ you know,¡± her voice straining slightly, more emotional. ¡°He tries to make light of situations, so people don¡¯t see how he really feels. Sometimes I feel like he¡¯s the most secretive person in this family. No one really knows what he¡¯s thinking or doing at times. He shows us only want he wants us to see.¡±

    I didn¡¯t say anything for a second. I didn¡¯t know what to say. I could tell it was hard to talk about, so I decided to change the subject.

    ¡°What about Martin?¡± I asked. ¡°How does he fit in?¡±

    She let the sadness fall away and started acting normal again.

    ¡°Martin is a strange person. He is one of the oldest vampires that our family has ever met. He first helped my family when my dad was only like six years old. So, he¡¯s been around for a while,¡± she said, raising her eyebrows.

    ¡°What¡¯s so strange, other than the obvious vampire situation?¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t kill humans like the rest of his kind. He stopped killing a long time ago, once he had seen past his thirst. He hated what he was, what they all were. So, he came to my family for help. He wanted to die,¡± she said.

    ¡°He wanted your family to kill him?¡± I asked. It sounded very familiar.

    ¡°Yeah, but they didn¡¯t. They kept him locked in a silver cage, like the one on the lower level beneath our house. They watched him for weeks. They realized that no matter how hungry he got, he never tried to get out, he never tried to kill any of them. He just sat there, resigned to his chosen fate. He begged for death. He literally begged them to kill him.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t they?¡± I was perplexed.

    ¡°They were going to eventually, but things happened, and he ended up saving them all. Vampires had found my family¡¯s house, back then, and broke in. They found Martin in the silver cell and thought that they were going to teach my family a lesson by letting the vampire they were starving, feed on them. They corralled everyone in the same room as Martin, cutting a few of them to get the smell of blood thick in his nose. All the adults were being held in place by other vampires while they made Dad, Clara, and Frank open the cage. They were just little kids, and they were sending them to their deaths.¡±

    I imagined everything as she spoke. My heart actually quickened as she unfolded the details.

    ¡°But, when the cage door opened, Martin just sat there. He was on his knees, motionless. My dad says that everything that happened was too fast for him to know what was happening until it was over. He just saw blood scattering through the air and bodies flying in all directions. He said it was complete chaos. Once everything stopped, everyone was still there on their knees, but the vampires were all dead. Martin was standing in a corner covered in blood. He saved them¡­ he saved them all,¡± she said admirably.

    ¡°So now he kills vampires with your family?¡±

    ¡°More or less¡­ Martin usually gives Dad information and then lets us do our thing. But every now and then, he joins us on a hunt.¡±

    ¡°So¡­¡± I tried to think of the words I wanted to say. ¡°So, you don¡¯t think all monsters are bad¡­ worth killing?¡±

    She looked at me with earnest eyes, slowing her response so she could word a thoughtfully tailored response, ¡°Monsters come in all different forms. It¡¯s not your existence that determines what you are, it¡¯s your actions.¡±

    Her words impaled me, cutting all the way to the monster that dwelled in my soul. Would my actions make me someone they could care for or someone they would hunt? I killed, there was no question about that, but I murdered monsters; human and supernatural alike. At least, that¡¯s what I told myself. Maybe they deserved better than death, perhaps they deserved something else other than my absolute justice. Death was the only punishment I gave.

    I nodded at her statement, lost in my own thoughts.

    ¡°Enough about us,¡± she said. ¡°Tell me about you. I know you¡¯re from Texas, where else have you lived?¡±

    ¡°Mostly, Texas. I just bounced around smaller towns with work. I just moved up here about a year ago.¡±

    ¡°So, you don¡¯t have any family around here?¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°No, just me.¡±

    ¡°Friends?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Not really, just the guys from work. That¡¯s where I spend most of my time, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Really, just work¡­ that sounds¡­ horrible,¡± she laughed.

    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh with her, ¡°Yeah, life has been pretty boring sometimes. Until recently,¡± I added.

    ¡°So, what do you do in your spare time? You must have some hobbies,¡± she tried figuring me out, still grinning.

    ¡°I like walking around the city, exploring. It passes the time,¡± I said truthfully. I was tired of lying to her, so I dove at the chance for some kind of honesty.

    ¡°Is that why you were walking around that night when you almost got killed by those vampires?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yeah, I was just roaming and went a little too far,¡± I agreed. It worked out perfectly.

    She nodded, seeming content with the answer.

    ¡°What do you study in school?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I major in biology. I like to learn how things work inside of us,¡± she touched her chest. ¡°I also use what I learn to test theories we have about certain creatures. We try to find out how different monsters react to different things, how they function, how they turn people. My major was my own choice, but it just happened to be useful to my family.¡±

    ¡°Nice, how much longer until you¡¯re finished with school?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I could be done with my master¡¯s degree in about another year or so. I¡¯m usually pretty busy with school. Sometimes I ease off my class loads every other semester to help with the business or the hunt,¡± nodding as she spoke.

    ¡°So¡­ what do you think about all of this? I know what you guys were saying in the car, but¡­ does it affect you at all?¡± I asked. It seemed a little too personal, and I wasn¡¯t sure if she would even answer.

    She was silent for a second, deep in thought. She bit the corner of her bottom lip as she found her words, ¡°It¡¯s hard. We all act like it¡¯s not, but that¡¯s just because of how long we¡¯ve been doing it. But it is hard. I worry all the time that something is going to happen. That someone will get hurt and won¡¯t come back from a hunt,¡± I could hear the weight on her words.

    ¡°So, what do you do to get your mind off it all?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Try not to think about it too much,¡± she said quickly, brushing off the conversation. ¡°I study, go out with friends, go out with Aunt Clara, train, and work with Dad. That¡¯s how I pass my time.¡±

    I think I came off as blunt on the next question, but I had to get it off my mind and just ask it, ¡°What¡¯s the deal with you and Patrick?¡±

    She looked surprised, unprepared for my sudden charge into her very closed personal life. However, she answered me, ¡°You noticed that¡­ when?¡±

    ¡°I saw something the first night I was here. Patrick was talking to you at the door before he left. You looked annoyed, and he looked like he was about to start begging you for something.¡±

    ¡°Observant, again. I thought I got out of there before anyone realized what was happening.¡±

    ¡°I just caught a glimpse of you two, that¡¯s all. It seemed like something was going on, something more than just two people talking.¡±

    She rolled her eyes, not at me, at the memory of that night. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be wrong. Patrick and I used to date. We were serious for a little while, but¡­ I don¡¯t know, one day I just didn¡¯t feel it anymore. I broke up with him and went my own way. I don¡¯t know what changed, but I felt different.¡±

    ¡°And he¡¯s not over it?¡±

    ¡°No. Not fully, at least. I thought he was getting better, moving past it. It¡¯s been weeks since the last time he tried anything, but then Sunday night, he pulled me to the side before his family left to try and get me to talk about ¡®us¡¯,¡± she air-quoted in a mocking way that seemed like a shot at Patrick. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to seem heartless, it¡¯s just he and I have talked this into the ground. I¡¯ve told him that its not happening and I don¡¯t want to be with him anymore in that way. I don¡¯t know why he brought it up again. I thought we were done with it.¡±

    It was me. I remembered his face as soon as I was introduced to the family. He looked like he was declaring me a threat. I shouldn¡¯t have any reason to feel this way, but I wanted to beat the dogshit out of Patrick. Him and that goofy little ponytail of his.

    ¡°How long were you together?¡± I asked. ¡°Sorry, I just keep talking before hearing the words in my own head,¡± I apologized.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, really,¡± she laughed, smiling at me. ¡°We basically grew up together, and we started dating, off and on, about three years ago. We spent a lot of time at school and here at home together, so we got close. Plus, I can¡¯t really talk about my family life with most guys anyway, so we had that.¡±

    Three years¡­ it was a long time, but she did say ¡°off and on,¡± so maybe it wasn¡¯t even that serious.

    ¡°He thinks you¡¯re going to get in his way¡­¡± Autumn smirked, being a little too honest.

    I tilted my head as I looked into her dark brown eyes, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°With me¡­ he thinks that you¡¯re going to mess up his plans to get me back,¡± she laughed again. I liked the way she said it. The possibilities seemed almost real.

    ¡°Why would he think that?¡± I played dumb.

    ¡°You killed a vampire. He¡¯s never done that. He thinks I¡¯m going to find that attractive and forget about him,¡± she had a strange smirk on her face, staring down as she spoke. ¡°Plus, you¡¯re new, you¡¯re strong, mysterious¡­ he doesn¡¯t know anything about you. I guess none of us do,¡± she taunted playfully, bugging out her eyes and leaning away like I was a bad guy. She made me laugh.

    However, I was the bad guy. She should run, or I should. I shouldn¡¯t have ever put any of them in this kind of danger. Patrick was right to fear me, even if it wasn¡¯t for the right reasons.

    Then, there was a knock on her door. We both jumped up from our seats at the same time, coming face to face between her desk and bed. We lingered there for a second, staring into each other¡¯s eyes, not saying anything. I knew what she was thinking because I was thinking the same thing. Was Patrick¡¯s assumption, right? Was there something between us already?

    I felt it the first night at dinner, and then again in the living room, and the whole next day I spent around her. I felt something. That was obvious. But did she?

    I could feel the heat coming from her body, we were so close. She slowly started moving her face closer to mine. I mirrored her actions, moving only inches as we both tried to determine what was happening. What was happening? What was I doing? I could feel her scent covering me as our faces almost met, it was indescribable.

    The doorknob turned, and the door began to pivot. We both snapped out of the trance we had fallen in and separated ourselves. Neither of us said a thing. She looked confused, unsure of her actions. She took a step away.

    The small Delilah walked into the room, holding a Barbie doll, ¡°Auti, Auti, come with me outside. Everybody¡¯s downstairs, reading boring books,¡± she made a look of disgust. ¡°Let¡¯s go play,¡± she begged.

    Autumn tickled the side of her neck, ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to say hi to Sam.¡±

    ¡°Hi Sam¡­¡± she said reluctantly, barely turning her head in my direction. She was too worried about going outside.

    ¡°Hello,¡± was all I said. It was too hard to be near the little girl. She ripped thoughts and feelings out of the dungeons of my soul. The thoughts and feelings that I kept buried the deepest. The ones that fueled and guided me. They forced me to be what I had become. She reminded me of why I lived my tormented existence the way I did. The reason I only killed certain types of people.

    I gritted my teeth and struggled to maintain the flurry of anger, self-loathing, and torment that she brought out in me.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go. You lead the way,¡± Autumn said to her.

    Delilah ran off, back out of the room.

    Autumn slowly left where she had been standing, still unsure about what was happening with us. She looked back to me, our eyes connecting again, ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, not about Delilah, about what had happened just moments before. ¡°I guess I should go keep her company.¡±

    ¡°Okay, yeah, don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯ll head down and see if I can help with anything.¡± I acted convincingly.

    I wasn¡¯t positively sure what she was apologizing for. Was it for having to leave our conversation to go with Delilah, or was it for what happened between us? Well¡­ what almost happened.

    She broke off her gaze and led me back downstairs to the rest of the family. All the Chasses had arrived.

    I walked into the study, and she branched off to the back door with Delilah. She turned back slightly to look at me one last time before going outside. We connected eyes again for only a moment, and then she was gone.

    I sat with Carter and Frank for the rest of the evening. We talked and read for hours. I learned more and more with each new page of the bestiaries. The varieties of monsters seemed endless. However, nothing matched with me, not yet anyway. We still had much to search through.

    As I sat beside Frank, I felt like I could feel his internal torment. Every time he made a joke or downplayed the events that had been happening, I remembered what Autumn had said. I wondered what kind of hell he endured within his own mind.

    Autumn and Delilah stayed outside for a long time. I found myself watching the door almost as much as I stared into the pages. I listened to the little girl running through the grass, laughing and playing.

    It was hard to focus on the books, or Autumn, with the other things I was thinking about. There was a trove of memories that were flooding my mind after seeing Delilah again. I didn¡¯t know how to make them stop. Memories and thoughts were breaking out, and I was in my own hell.

    The mother of all of these memories came to the forefront of my thoughts. It was the trip I took about a year prior. The journey I took home, back to Dallas.

 Chapter 15 - The Return (One Year Ago)

    I was walking, left then right, left then right. I found that this made things easier. It gave me a small goal to focus on, just moving my feet. I had learned a lot of little things in the past year of this life. I had learned how to transform, how long I could go without a kill, and how to use my senses and abilities in human form. The things I could do now were impressive compared to where I started, but it still wasn¡¯t anything I wanted. Yet, I had gotten very confident in myself over the last year. Enough that I thought I might be able to try something. To see what happened and go from there.

    My only goal since that dreadful night was to go home. I begged and pleaded for it. I needed it with every single fiber of my being. Back home to Vicky, to my family. God, I missed her so much it hurt. Every single one of them. My twin brother, my sisters and their husbands, Mom and Dad, the little ones¡­ They all thought I was dead, buried and gone for a year now. I can''t even begin to imagine how they''ve managed to move on, how they''ve stitched together a life without me. Carrying on in pain with an empty place in the family, and without any answers as to what happened. But deep down, I wonder¡­ how will they react if I showed up, alive?

    I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about them. Every moment, every breath, it''s them. It''s Vicky. I need her. I need to hold her, to see her face light up when she realizes it''s really me. To feel my hands on her and let her know I¡¯ll keep her safe from anything. My brother¡­ he deserved to know I¡¯m alive, that I''m okay, that I made it through that night of terror. But how would I even begin to make up for the agony they¡¯ve endured? The emptiness, the grief, the nights they probably cried themselves to sleep? How do you get past the shock of the reality, because it''s not just me coming back from the dead, it''s that the world they knew isn¡¯t what they thought. There are unexplainable things that go bump in the night¡­ and they¡¯d be looking at it dead in the face. How would they accept that?

    I''ve fought so hard to master this darkness inside me, to keep it chained so I can protect them. And I thought I¡¯d finally made enough progress for an attempt? But¡­will Vicky still want a life with me, knowing what I¡¯ve become? What will she do when she finds out I¡¯ve been out there, alive, all this time? What will she think of me when she finds out that I have killed people. She¡¯s a nurse, someone who saves lives. How would she react when faced with a violent force of nature that ends them. What about my sisters, Mom, Seth, and Dad? Would they even recognize me anymore?

    After all, I was dead and forgotten. They never found a body, evidence, and never learned any answers. To the cops, my family, and my friends, I was just¡­ gone. I disappeared in a bloody scene of carnage. Pulled from my backyard like I had been abducted by aliens. Shit that might be more believable.

    Even with doubts gnawing at the edges of my mind and fear tightening its grip on my heart, I knew I had to try. I needed them back. So, I found myself back in Dallas, standing on streets that felt both familiar and foreign.

    The journey that led me there was grueling, each mile stretched into an eternity filled with thoughts of doubt and making a mistake. My body seemed to almost rebel against me as I tried to make my return. I walked under the relentless sun until my legs ached and my shoes were worn thin. Sweat ran down my body in a way I hadn¡¯t felt since before the change. When the roads grew desolate, I stuck out my thumb and hitchhiked with strangers whose faces blurred into one long, sleepless night. The rumble of engines and the smell of gasoline filled my senses as I clung to the hope that each ride would bring me closer. The few truckers that picked me up could sense there was something off about me and didn¡¯t let me ride for long.

    But that wasn¡¯t enough. When the highways became endless ribbons of asphalt, I jumped onto slow-moving freight trains, the wind cutting through my jacket as I huddled in empty boxcars. The cold metal beneath me was a stark reminder of how far I¡¯d fallen, but I pressed on.

    Days blurred together as I pushed forward, each one longer than the last, until finally, the landscape started to change. The buildings grew familiar, the air carried a hint of memories I¡¯d buried deep. I was home.

    Skulking through my old neighborhood, shadows of the past whispered at every corner. I tried to focus on what I was going to do, how I would face them after all this time. But the closer I got, the more the doubt crept back in. Yet I couldn¡¯t stop. Not now.

    I came in the cover of night, taking the usual precautions I had come to know over my time in St. Louis. The first thing I had to do was to make sure she still lived in the same house. Our house.

    I turned the corner, and there it was; the same familiar house perched in front of those detestable trees that took me from my home. The place where everything changed. My chest tightened as I took in the sight, the memories of that fateful night flooding back with a vivid intensity.

    I gazed through the backyard, my eyes tracing the space between the house and the shed, where the shadows seemed to hold echoes of the past. I could almost see the flicker of that night¡¯s events, feel the sharp bite of fear and the overwhelming rush of darkness that had consumed me. My heart skipped a beat, the reality of being this close to my old life crashing over me like a wave. The feeling was indescribable.

    The black truck was parked in the driveway, just like it always was, like time itself had frozen in this corner of the world. The grass, the bushes, everything was just as I remembered. It was as if nothing had changed, yet I had been altered beyond recognition. But in that moment, standing there, it felt safe. It felt like home.

    After everything, the running, the killing, the endless nights of hiding alone in the shadows; I was finally home.

    I slipped into the cover of those once-feared trees, my heart pounding as I moved around the perimeter of the house, a silent ghost haunting the edges of my past. The house was dark, the windows void of light, but I could almost feel the life inside. I moved with practiced stealth, peering through windows, straining to catch any sound, any movement. It was quiet, too quiet.

    My breath caught as I silently climbed up to the roof, the familiar creaks of the old structure beneath me a strange comfort. I crept along the roof, making my way to the second-floor windows, where I knew I¡¯d find her. My heart was in my throat as I finally reached my old room. I hung from the roof, the rough edge biting into my palms as I peered inside.

    There she was¡­Vicky. Her blonde hair spilled out from beneath the covers, a soft golden halo in the darkness. I could hear her breathing, rhythmic and steady, a melody I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d missed until now. Every few minutes, she would take a deeper breath, filling her lungs completely, and I found myself mirroring her, trying to breathe in time with her, as if that would somehow connect us across the chasm of what I¡¯d become.

    I watched her for what felt like an eternity, unable to move, paralyzed by fear. I was terrified of what would happen when she saw me, terrified of what I had become, and terrified of what that thing had made me into. Could she ever accept the darkness that now clung to me like a second skin? Could she ever love me again, knowing the monster I¡¯d been forced to become? I didn¡¯t know. But in that moment, all I could do was watch, filled with a reverence for the life I¡¯d lost, and a desperation for the chance to reclaim it.

    After nearly an hour of hovering by the window, she finally shifted in her sleep, rolling over to reveal her face. The sight took my breath away. She was exactly as I remembered. No, she was more beautiful than I remembered. Time had only enhanced the features I once knew so well.

    Her lips were soft and full, the kind that seemed made for a smile, though now they rested in a peaceful, almost wistful line. Her cheekbones, gently sloping and delicate, caught the faintest sliver of moonlight, highlighting the smooth curve of her face. Even the single ear peeking out from beneath her tousled blonde hair was a thing of grace, every detail etched into my memory with a newfound clarity. Her quirky humor was present in the bright orange carrot earring that clung to her little lobe. That was her style, funny to her, no care what others thought.

    But it was more than that. She radiated a beauty that went beyond mere physical features. It was in the way she breathed, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair cascaded over the pillow in soft waves. There was a serenity in her that I hadn''t noticed before, a quiet strength that seemed to draw me in, making it impossible to look away. Something she gained since my departure.

    I longed to see her eyes, those intense blue eyes that had always seen right through me, that had always held a depth and a warmth I couldn''t find anywhere else. I wanted to lose myself in them again, to feel the connection that had been the anchor in my world. Everything was flooding back. The emotions, the love, the desire I had buried deep inside me over the past year. It all surged forward, overwhelming in its intensity, as if it had never left.

    I wanted in there. No, I needed to be in there, to hold her in my arms, to feel the warmth of her skin against mine, to know that she still loved me despite everything. I still wanted my family; I needed them, more than I ever had before. And in that moment, I knew I couldn¡¯t turn back. I had to try, no matter the cost.

    My thoughts were cut short by something I saw. An arm reached out from under the covers and wrapped itself around Vicky¡¯s shoulders, pulling her back to the far side. I couldn¡¯t see a face, just the arm.

    My heart plummeted. The world I had created in my head over the past few moments shattered like glass.

    ¡°What¡­ Vicky¡­¡± I could barely whisper out as I hung from the roof.

    My whole world was crumbling around me, all the fantasies and hopes were slipping away.

    I felt the change. My eyes pulsed, turning them into dark orbs, followed by the burning in my face and hands.

    ¡°No¡­ no!¡± I growled to myself.

    I was losing it, losing control. I couldn¡¯t stop, not after seeing what I saw. The monster took advantage of the holes in my focus. I could feel it clawing its way out. My bones snapped and torqued as it tore me apart for control.

    I pushed off the roof, soared over the backyard, and landed near the shed. Then I took off, sprinting into the darkness between the trees as my body contorted. Time passed as I struggled in the darkness for control.

    It was light out once I had recovered. It was morning. It was a struggle, but I finally pinned the monster back in its cage. Finally, I was able to think again.

    I wanted to know who the person beside her was, why they were there, and what it meant for me. I still clung to any sort of possibility of regaining my old life.

    I was back outside of the house, but I waited in the upper area of the tall pines behind the shed. I could see perfectly through the window, and I focused my hearing on listening to the conversations.

    ¡°What time do you want to go to the store?¡± Vicky asked.

    ¡°I got a few things to do on the computer, but we can go after. It shouldn¡¯t be too long,¡± the man answered. He followed up his response with a quick kiss on her lips.

    A rage was growing inside. Nobody had the right to do this, not to my wife, not to me! Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

    He left for another room, and I adjusted myself in the trees to see through another window. I could only see the back of his head while he sat at the computer desk typing. What a fucking asshole. He was sitting in my old chair like he fucking owned the place. Then, he spun around, and I saw him. My mind fell silent. Ben¡¯s face appeared.

    Ben Wood, my old best friend. He was the man living in my house, sleeping with my wife, living MY life. It was uncontrollable this time. In the branches of the trees, the monster ripped out. I shifted in an aggressive rage, expanding and growing. My fangs and talons ripped out like switchblades. I locked my legs in place as I turned, keeping control of at least one part of my body. The trees shook and convulsed as I went through the metamorphosis, probably drawing attention to my area.

    I wouldn¡¯t do what I was aching to do. I wanted to kill him¡­ and her. No! I wouldn¡¯t. The monster wanted to, but I wouldn¡¯t let it.

    I tried to think of it as a separate entity, not the darkest parts of my own mind. It made it easier to live with. I fought off the thoughts and tried to regain control, but it was fruitless. The change had happened, and I was primed for the attack. My emotional state was too stressed.

    Only one question raced through my mind. Why? Why was Vicky with someone else? It had only been a year. How had she moved on so fast? What was happening?

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    My thoughts were a chaotic blur, a storm of confusion and betrayal swirling inside my mind. How could they? My best friend and my wife¡­ how could they do this to me? I couldn¡¯t make sense of it, and the more I tried, the more the anger built up, like a tidal wave crashing against the fragile walls of my control. My enhanced strength took over, and with it, the talons that had become a part of me. They tore through the upper branches of the trees, shredding them to splinters as I thrashed about, a violent outburst driven by emotions I could barely contain and the killer instincts that had been forced upon me by the monster that dwelled within.

    But then, in an instant, everything changed.

    A sound cut through the chaos, soft at first, barely noticeable amid my fury. It was the cry of a baby. The rage that had consumed me just moments before washed away as if it had never existed, leaving behind a silence so profound it felt like a void inside my head. I froze, the world around me narrowing to the sound of that tiny voice. The baby¡¯s cries grew louder, more insistent, tugging at something deep within me, something human that I thought I had lost.

    And then, Vicky came into view through one of the back windows, cradling a baby girl in her arms. My breath caught in my throat. The sight of the baby¡¯s solid pink onesie was a jarring contrast to the darkness that had taken root in me. It was unmistakable, a little girl. Their little girl.

    ¡°Ben, can you take her for a second? I have to pee really bad,¡± Vicky urged, her voice casual, almost playful. She handed the baby off to Ben, who stepped into view with a soft smile.

    ¡°Yep¡­ come here, little bug,¡± he sang to her, his tone gentle and full of affection as he cradled her in his arms and tickled her belly. The baby cooed, a sweet, innocent sound that seemed to echo in the space where my rage had been.

    I felt myself shrinking down, back to my human form. The claws receded, the fangs disappeared, and the burning anger that had driven me to the edge of madness faded away. All that was left was a hollow, stunned silence as I watched the scene before me.

    So many questions flooded my mind, each one more overwhelming than the last. How long had they been together? Was this why they had betrayed me? And the baby¡­was she Ben¡¯s? The reality of what I was seeing hit me like a punch in the gut, leaving me breathless and reeling.

    Everything I thought I knew had been shattered, leaving me standing there, a broken man in the shadows, trying to piece together the fragments of a life that had already slipped through my fingers.

    I stood frozen in the trees, my body as still as a statue, my eyes locked on the little baby girl in Vicky¡¯s arms. She was so small, so impossibly tiny. Too small. My mind started racing, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. She couldn¡¯t be more than a few months old, maybe two at most. But something about that timeline didn¡¯t add up. I began doing the math in my head, my thoughts swirling with confusion and a growing sense of dread. Two months old¡­ plus nine months¡­

    It didn¡¯t make any sense. The more I calculated, the more my heart pounded in my chest. If she really was only a few months old, that would mean she was conceived right around the time I¡­ when I disappeared.

    No. It couldn¡¯t be. She couldn¡¯t be mine. She had to be Ben¡¯s. My mind seized on that thought, clinging to it desperately. This was his little girl. It had to be. But as soon as I thought it, the idea unraveled, slipping away like sand through my fingers. The only way that could be true was if Vicky had been with Ben right before or right after I vanished. And that didn¡¯t add up. It didn¡¯t fit with what I knew about Vicky; about us. She wouldn¡¯t do that¡­ couldn¡¯t do that. I knew her too well. We were it for each other.

    Which meant¡­ if I was right, if my calculations were correct, then she was¡­ she was mine.

    The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. We had been trying, Vicky and I, hoping for this very thing. But I never knew¡­ I had no idea she was pregnant when I disappeared. The last time we were together, the night I was attacked, that had to be when it happened.

    A part of me wanted to reject it, to push away the truth that was slowly dawning on me. I prayed for another explanation, some reason that didn¡¯t involve me. Maybe they were babysitting, maybe this little girl belonged to someone else. My mind grasped at straws, searching for anything that could make sense of this chaos.

    But deep down, I knew the truth. It settled into my bones, cold and undeniable. That little girl¡­ she was mine. And with that realization came a wave of emotions so intense, I could barely stand under their weight.

    <hr>

    It was night again. I was stalking through the woods beside my house. I just wanted to go home. I ached for it, yearned for it. I felt so tired, mentally, from living this new life, and I just wanted to be home again. When I left St. Louis, and the shithole factory I had found, I thought I was saying goodbye for good. I thought I was leaving the shadows, the loneliness, and the pain behind. I didn¡¯t even look back; I was so sure of my plan. I could feel the pressure of tears building in my face. I knew what was happening. My home was slipping away.

    I spent all day pacing, thinking about what this meant for me. I thought I could come back now that I had control, but what I learned was that I had no control. I almost killed Vicky and Ben again, when I saw them together. I couldn¡¯t stay the way I had hoped. Now, things had changed drastically. The girl, the innocent little baby, was mine. I could see it in her face. She shared features with me; her blues eyes were my shade, not Vicky¡¯s. Her hair was a light brown, not blonde like her mother¡¯s. I could see it, feel it, I knew she was my daughter.

    Everything changed in that moment, and a crushing despair settled over me like a dark, suffocating shroud. No matter how much I wanted to come home, to hold Vicky in my arms again, to be a part of my family¡­ I couldn¡¯t. The realization struck me with a force that left me breathless. Just being near them, being near her, would put them all in unimaginable danger. There were too many questions about what I had become, too many unknowns about the darkness inside me. And I knew, with a certainty that tore at my soul, that if I stayed in their lives, I would only bring them pain and suffering.

    That was all I had brought to anyone since becoming this creature. For the past year, every encounter, every moment had been tainted by violence, fear, and the monster that I couldn¡¯t fully control. I couldn¡¯t do that to Vicky, not to her, not to my family, not to the life I had once known. If I came back, they¡¯d have to hide me, lie for me, and constantly protect themselves from the threat I posed.

    Maybe¡­ maybe things were better the way they were now. They had already gone through the agony of losing me. If I returned, they would only have to relive that pain all over again. Vicky had someone now, someone who could give her the normal life I could no longer provide. But my family¡­ they would never understand. Once they knew what had happened to me, what I had become, their pain would be even greater than it already was.

    The realization that I had to leave again, that I couldn¡¯t stay no matter how much it tore me apart, brought me to my knees. I cried, the anguish ripping through me, as I accepted the truth. The only way I could keep this little girl safe was to stay away from her, to disappear once more into the shadows. I didn¡¯t even know her name, but the love I felt for her was already overwhelming, consuming me with its intensity. I would give everything for her, even the life I wanted back so desperately.

    But before I left, before I vanished from her life for good, I had to know her name. That was the one thing I couldn¡¯t leave without. It was the only piece of her I could allow myself to hold on to, the only connection I could keep as I walked away from everything I had ever loved.

    I waited until Vicky and Ben put her down for the night, and then for the two of them to go to bed. Then, I quietly entered the house through the upstairs office window. They really should have locked it. They had no clue what lingered in the world. I snuck through the house, avoiding the creaks I remembered in the floor. I made my way down to the guest bedroom, which was now the baby¡¯s room.

    I pushed the door open and clenched my fists to steady myself. Every step I took felt like it carried the weight of a lifetime as I walked into the room. The air was fresh, filled with the soft scent of baby powder and something sweet, almost like a new beginning. The room was clean, vibrant with color, yet the silence was almost deafening. Above the crib, a lit mobile of stars and moons gently turned, casting soft shadows that danced on the walls.

    I forced myself forward, each step feeling like it might be my last. When I reached the crib, I stopped, unable to move, unable to breathe. There, wrapped snugly in a pink blanket, was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. Her tiny face, peaceful in sleep, held a reflection of me. A reflection that made my knees weak and my heart ache in ways I didn¡¯t know were possible.

    My daughter¡­ she was mine. The fact hit me like a tidal wave, and I couldn¡¯t hold back the tears that began to stream down my face. They fell silently, each drop like a lost moment, every missed memory leaving me for good. I tried to swallow the knot in my throat, tried to keep the wall of emotions I¡¯d built up over the past year from crumbling, but it was useless. The love I felt for her, the overwhelming need to protect her, to be in her life, shattered every barrier I had put in place.

    She was mine, my daughter. And in that moment, all the pain, all the fear, all the darkness I had carried with me seemed to fall away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered emotion of a father looking at his child for the first time.

    I frantically searched the room, my heart racing as I looked for any clues, anything that might help me understand the life that had continued without me. My eyes landed on a thin book, its cover adorned with pictures of the little girl who lay sleeping in the crib. The title on the front read, Caydee Sam Roberts. My heart skipped a beat. She had my name.

    I picked up the small photo album, my hands trembling as I opened it. The first image was of Vicky, her belly round and full, with life growing inside her. She was radiant, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. The photos captured her in different moments, glowing with anticipation and the kind of happiness that only comes with the promise of new life. Ben was there too, in so many of the pictures, his arm around her, his hand resting on her swollen belly. They looked so close, so intimate, like partners sharing a journey I was no longer a part of.

    The pages turned slowly under my fingertips as I stole glances at Caydee every few seconds, unable to fully tear myself away from either her or the images in front of me. Most of the photos were from the day she was born. The hospital room filled with smiles, joy, and the kind of love that permeated every frame. My heart ached as I saw my family there, surrounding Vicky, holding Caydee for the first time. My brother was in many of the photos, sitting beside Vicky, a protective arm around her, his eyes filled with a love that both comforted and tortured me. He looked like he was trying to be strong, to keep them both safe, as if he had taken on the responsibility that should have been mine.

    Tears began to stream down my face, faster and heavier with each passing moment. The knot in my throat swelled, making it nearly impossible to breathe, but I stayed silent, unwilling to disturb the stillness of the room.

    In the back of the album were little paragraphs, messages written for Caydee to read when she was older. They were filled with love, hope, and a deep sense of family. But one in particular stood out to me, the words burning into my soul.

    Caydee,

    You have no idea how much you are loved. So many people watched you come into this world and can¡¯t wait to see the person you will grow into. We all love you so much, sweetie. We have been through a lot, but we have so many people in our lives that are helping us through this time, and they want nothing more than to see us happy. Your Uncle Seth has been here for you since before you were ever born, always remember that sweetie. I know that your Daddy is looking down on you, Caydee, wishing he was here. We will always love you, little bug.

    Forever and always,

    Mom

    Each word hit me like a hammer, driving home the reality of what had happened, what I had missed. Vicky had written this, pouring her heart onto the page, leaving behind a message of love and strength for our daughter. But it was more than that, it was a farewell to the life we had once shared, an acknowledgment that I was no longer part of their world.

    The truth unraveled before me with a clarity that was both painful and undeniable. Ben had stepped in after I was gone, when I couldn¡¯t be there. He had taken care of Vicky, supported her, helped her navigate the darkest time of her life. And somewhere along the way, they had found love. It wasn¡¯t their fault. They had found each other after a loss that had shattered both of their lives.

    As I sifted through the fog of my own accusatory thoughts, the anger and betrayal that had consumed me began to fade, replaced by something far more devastating¡­acceptance. Vicky was happy, and that¡¯s all I had ever wanted for her. She had found a new life, a new love, and they had little Caydee, a precious gift that had come from the life we once shared. They were a family now. But a family that didn¡¯t include me.

    The realization was agonizing, tearing at my heart with a pain so profound it felt like I might never recover. But in that pain, there was also a sense of peace. I could see that they had found something good, something beautiful, even after all the loss and heartache. And while it broke me to accept it, I knew I had to let them go. They had moved on.

    And now, so must I. I had to forget the idea of ever regaining my old life. It was gone, dust in the wind. That¡¯s what I had to be.

    I put the book down and went back to Caydee. I hovered over her crib, trying to memorize her face. I wanted to be with her forever, to be there when she needed me, to take care of her, to raise her. I reached in and grazed my hand over the top of her head. She was so fragile, so soft. Her quick, shallow breaths were adorable, so adorable it hurt to watch, only because I knew I would never see them again.

    I stayed with her for as long as I could that night. I watched and grazed my hand against her little head of hair. I had been in there for almost two hours until I heard someone else start to stir down the hall in another room. It was probably time to feed her. This was it. This was goodbye.

    I leaned over her crib and stuck my face down to hers. I kissed Caydee on her soft little forehead as she lay silently in her bed. I started crying again, wishing for more time. My heart ached as I knew I had to leave her. I didn¡¯t want to. I touched her little chest, feeling the rise and fall of her small lungs.

    ¡°I love you¡­ and I¡¯m sorry¡­¡±

    I went numb, cold like a soulless demon. I pushed everything down. Everything! I shoved it as far as I could so I could pull myself away. I climbed out of the second-story window and fell to the ground below. There was no trace of my presence left behind. I could have been a ghost.

    Once I was a reasonable distance away from the house, I let it all back in. I cried, not like I did inside her room, but loudly, unrestricted. I wailed in the early morning hours of the forest. I swiped at trees with clawed hands. I punched anything solid that was in my reach. I had to get it out. The fiery rage was eating me up inside as I loathed myself for what I was.

    I came back to Dallas for a second chance at my old life. I found that I had left more behind than I initially thought, and¡­ I had to leave it all again. Vicky, Seth, my family, Ben, and most importantly, Caydee, would never know the truth. They couldn¡¯t know, not ever. If they ever found out, it would ruin what they had built together. The family after the tragedy. So, I couldn¡¯t exist. Not to them anyway. Not anymore. I knew what I was now, and that didn¡¯t fit here.

    I died a year earlier, and it would stay that way. The only way I knew I could protect Caydee from the monster was to stay away, forever.

    The finality of that decision hit me like a cold, unforgiving wave, washing over any hope I had clung to. The truth was undeniable: I didn¡¯t belong here. I couldn¡¯t exist in their lives, not as the man I had become. I had to let them live, let them thrive, without the shadow of the monster looming over them.

    So, I died again that night, a ghost in the darkness, unseen and unknown. I walked away from everything I had once loved, through the cold, dead trees that creaked and groaned in the brisk wind of the night. There was no home for me here, no warmth, no comfort. The shadows were my life now, and the loneliness was the only company I deserved.

 Chapter 16 - From the Depths

    Weeks had slipped by in a slow, steady rhythm with the Chasses, each day blending seamlessly into the next as I settled into the routine of a life that was far more mundane than I ever thought I''d find myself living. After accepting their offer, I threw myself into the work at CWT Construction, taking on whatever tasks Carter handed me. I fell into a routine that made me feel¡­ normal. I cherished it.

    By day, I found myself doing odd jobs around the business, running errands, picking up supplies, and occasionally handling tasks that were better kept off the books. Carter had been clear about that last part; some things simply weren¡¯t meant to leave a paper trail. He gave me the choice: a legitimate paycheck or cash under the table. The decision was easy. Cash meant fewer questions, fewer strings, and less of my information floating around on office paperwork.

    To my surprise, the cash started piling up faster than I expected. It wasn¡¯t long before I realized I had more money than I knew what to do with. The bills accumulated in a corner of my factory until they threatened to spill over from a glass jar I was jamming them into. If some drifter stumbled upon my stash, they¡¯d be set for months, maybe even years depending on their drinking habits. I ended up buying an old motorcycle, a solid, no-nonsense machine that got me from place to place without drawing too much attention. It was the perfect cover, and just the answer to my transportation problem. Now, no one questioned how I got around throughout the city. I could come and go as I pleased.

    Day after day, I put on the mask of an ordinary worker, blending into the background of the construction sites. At one particular project, an up-and-coming subdivision in north county, I found myself working alongside the crew, laying cement for foundations. There was something almost therapeutic about the repetitive nature of the work¡ªmix, pour, spread, repeat. It was a far cry from the chaos I was used to, but there was a quiet satisfaction in the monotony. The sun would rise, we¡¯d clock in, spend the day sweating and grumbling over small talk, then clock out as the sun dipped low again, leaving the site shrouded in dusk.

    There were days, sometimes entire weeks, where I didn¡¯t see or speak to any of the hunters. At first, it was disorienting, like a part of me was missing. Especially when I thought of Autumn and yearned for some kind of closeness to her¡­ at least the version of her I created in my mind. But gradually, I started to appreciate the distance. Normality was a facade, yes, but it was one I found myself increasingly comfortable behind. Each mundane task, each interaction with the crew, reinforced the guise I was crafting. I was just another cog in the machine, a busy worker bee with no connection to the hidden world beneath the surface.

    And oddly enough, I liked it. There was a strange comfort in the routine, in the predictability of it all. It was a life so far removed from the one I was used to, yet it grounded me in a way I hadn¡¯t expected. The more I played the part, the more I felt it becoming real, or at least real enough to fool myself. The days I spent spreading cement and swapping stories with the other workers weren¡¯t just about earning the trust of the Chasses. They were about finding a place for myself in this world. Not the fake ¡°me¡± I put on to hide amongst the humans, but a version of myself that was familiar. A worker, making friends with other people on a jobsite over the shared workload. It calmed me. Brought a part of me back that I never thought about anymore.

    It wasn¡¯t just the routine of construction work that felt different. There was a noticeable absence, a silence that hung in the air like a storm that never came. The supernatural world, the one that I¡¯d been thrust into, the one that was supposed to be teeming with danger and darkness had gone eerily quiet. It was as if the monsters had fled the area, leaving the hunters with little to do but wait for a new threat.

    This dry spell was the reason the hunters seemed so distant lately. The Chasses, usually buzzing with purpose and intensity, had become almost ghost-like in their presence, barely visible, and always preoccupied with something just out of reach. I could feel their restlessness whenever I did catch a glimpse of them. The tension that usually rippled beneath the surface had dulled, replaced by a kind of frustrated boredom. Without the usual threats to chase down, they had little reason to engage with me or anyone else. Their attention was elsewhere, perhaps focused on the possibility of something bigger brewing on the horizon, or maybe just lost in the monotony of waiting.

    For me, this lull in activity was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it made it easier to maintain the facade of normality. Without the constant pressure of supernatural dangers, I could sink deeper into the role of a regular guy, a worker who punched the clock and didn¡¯t look over his shoulder every five minutes. On the other hand, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this calm was temporary, a fragile illusion that could shatter at any moment. The hunters might be distant now, but I knew that as soon as the next threat appeared, they¡¯d snap back into focus, and I¡¯d be pulled right along with them.

    Frank and Carter came around every now and then, called and texted quite a bit to stay in contact, but there was a stretch of time that I didn¡¯t get to spend around them like I had in the first few days of meeting them. I missed them all, and the atmosphere they created around me.

    But for now, in the quiet days of this strange dry spell, I found a peculiar sense of peace in the normality. The absence of monsters was an unexpected reprieve, a chance to catch my breath and remind myself that there was a world beyond the shadows. And yet, the emptiness gnawed at the back of my mind, a constant reminder that the quiet never lasted long in our line of work. And the monster¡­ the monster was ever hungry. Pushing against the perimeters of its cage in an attempt to find a weakness and escape from my grip. So, at night after work, I¡¯d go back to my old routines. I¡¯d hunt, pace the city streets in search of possibilities. I¡¯d found a few, and they had satiated the beast for a time.

    After a few weeks of settling into my new routine, I was surprised to get a call from Clara, of all people. She and Eleanor invited me over to train, a clear sign that they were ready to start integrating me more into their world. They wanted me to come around regularly to learn, grow, and hone my skills as a hunter. It was an invitation I couldn¡¯t resist.

    From that point on, my days took on a new rhythm. After finishing work or handling whatever company duties came up, I¡¯d either head back to the factory or make my way to their house to dive deeper into their ways. It quickly became a routine that I found myself looking forward to each morning. There was a certain thrill in the uncertainty of where I¡¯d end up each day, the factory, the Chasses¡¯ house, or out in the field training with a mentor from the Chasse family. That suspense kept me energized, eager to see what the day would bring.

    The truth was, I wanted nothing more than to be near them, Autumn, Eleanor, Carter, and the rest of the group. Being in their presence felt right, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I think they sensed how much I craved this connection, but they were careful not to push too hard too soon. At first, they kept my training limited, probably to make sure they didn¡¯t overwhelm me and scare me off. They seemed to be testing the waters, gradually increasing the frequency of my visits as they gauged my commitment.

    As time passed and I proved I wasn¡¯t going anywhere, the training sessions became more frequent. What started as occasional visits turned into a nearly daily routine. It was as if they finally decided I was ready, and I relished every moment I spent learning from them. The more time I spent with the Chasses, the more I felt like I was becoming a part of something bigger¡ªa life that was more dangerous and demanding than I could have imagined, but also more fulfilling than anything I¡¯d known before.

    Learning how to mold silver into weapons was one of the more fascinating and intense aspects of my training with Clara. She was meticulous and methodical, her passion for the craft evident in every step of the process.

    Clara and Wayland¡¯s garage, nestled just down the street from Carter¡¯s house, was an intriguing contrast to the more polished environments I was used to. The space was a blend of organized chaos and purposeful clutter, reflecting both the functional and personal aspects of their work.

    The garage was a spacious, single-room affair with concrete floors that bore the marks of countless projects. Scratches, stains, and the occasional splatter of molten metal filled the floor and walls. Shelves lined the walls, overflowing with an assortment of tools, parts, and materials. There were rows of metal containers, jars of various chemicals, and an array of hammers, pliers, and wrenches, each showing signs of heavy use.

    In one corner stood the forge, a formidable structure that dominated the room. It was a large, blackened contraption with a glowing hearth at its center. The forge was constantly radiating heat, its flames crackling softly beneath a protective iron cover. Next to it, an anvil rested on a sturdy wooden stand, its surface scarred from years of hammering and shaping metal. Nearby, a large, industrial fan whirred, pushing the hot air and smoke away from the workspace.

    The workbench was cluttered but meticulously organized. Various molds, crucibles, and metal ingots were arranged with an almost obsessive precision. A few unfinished projects lay in various stages of completion. There were silver bullets, arrowheads, and silver particulate bombs in various stages of assembly. There was a precision grinder, its surface covered in a fine layer of silver dust, and a set of calipers and gauges for measuring and ensuring accuracy.

    Overhead, the garage was illuminated by bright, bare bulbs hanging from exposed wires. The light cast a harsh, utilitarian glow, accentuating the shadows and adding to the sense of intensity in the room. There were also several old-fashioned wall-mounted clocks, their ticking sound creating a rhythmic backdrop to the clatter of tools and the hiss of the forge.

    The garage had a distinctly personal touch as well. There were sketches and blueprints pinned to a corkboard, some detailing designs for new weapons and others with more abstract, artistic elements. The walls were decorated with a mix of old photographs and mementos, snapshots of Clara and Wayland with various projects and a few candid shots of them in action.

    Despite the apparent disorder, there was a palpable sense of purpose in the air. The space was a testament to Clara and Wayland¡¯s dedication to their craft. It was a place where raw materials were transformed into powerful tools, and where every corner, every surface, and every tool had its place and its purpose.

    Our sessions began in her workshop, a cluttered space filled with the pungent smell of melting metal and the constant hum of machinery. The air was thick with the heat of the forge, and Clara worked with an assured precision that was both intimidating and inspiring. I could see how she would have grown into such a strong hunter if she had come up as a child performing such hard labor. She was the silver smithing expert amongst the Chasse family, and Wayland was her star pupil obviously.

    The first step was to prepare the silver. Clara explained that silver was not just a metal; it was a potent weapon against supernatural entities. We started with raw silver bars, which she showed me how to cut and shape. She talked about the importance of purity in the metal, emphasizing that any impurities could weaken its effectiveness. Therefore, failing one of the family members and ultimately leading to someone¡¯s death.

    To mold the silver into bullets, Clara demonstrated the process of melting the silver in a crucible. The silver was heated until it reached a molten state, glowing with a bright, liquid brilliance. She poured the molten silver into molds for bullets, carefully tapping the molds to ensure that the metal settled evenly. As the silver cooled and solidified, she explained the need for precise measurements to ensure that each bullet was perfectly formed.

    Next, we moved on to making arrowheads. This process was slightly different but equally meticulous. Clara showed me how to shape the silver into pointed, aerodynamic tips. We used a combination of hammering and heating to refine the shape, making sure each arrowhead was sharp and strong. The key was to ensure that the silver was solid enough to penetrate and remain effective against its target.

    The final part of our training was creating silver particulate bombs. This was the most complex and dangerous part of the process. Clara started by explaining the science behind it: the goal was to create a fine silver powder that could be dispersed effectively to create a barrier against supernatural creatures, or to invade their senses and debilitate them. That was a primary method of the Chasse family hunting.

    We used a grinder to reduce silver into a fine particulate, mixing it with other compounds to create a stable mixture. The mixture was then carefully packed into small, cylindrical containers that could be ignited or thrown.

    Throughout each step, Clara was patient and thorough, offering insights into the significance of each phase of the process. She didn¡¯t just teach me the how but also the why. Why precision was critical and why certain techniques were used. The meticulous nature of the work was both challenging and rewarding. Each session ended with me covered in silver dust and sweat, but with a deep sense of accomplishment and a newfound respect for the craftsmanship involved in making these powerful tools.

    My time with Carter was different, it was a broader teaching that focused on thought processes and tactics of the hunt. Carter¡¯s training on tactics for fighting supernatural creatures was a focused, practical crash course in combat and strategy. He covered a range of techniques tailored to different types of creatures, starting with basic defensive maneuvers for a group of 3 hunters minimum, and escalating to more advanced tactics.

    He began by emphasizing the importance of understanding the specific weaknesses of various supernatural entities, such as the effectiveness of silver or the use of warding symbols to herd or escape from a supernatural. Carter demonstrated different combat styles, from close quarters fighting to using long-range weapons, adapting the approach based on the creature¡¯s strengths and weaknesses.

    Training also included situational strategies, such as how to handle ambushes, set traps, and employ distraction techniques. Carter provided real-world scenarios and simulations, using mock encounters and real experience and examples to teach me practical applications of the tactics his family swore by. The goal was to ensure that I could respond swiftly and effectively, with a clear plan in mind for any supernatural threat I might face.

    As Carter laid out the training day by day, I would just nod in agreement, absorbing the information with keen interest. On the surface, I tried to appear fully engaged, taking notes and asking pertinent questions. However, beneath the outward compliance, I harbored a different reality. In secret, I knew I didn¡¯t need all these conventional strategies. My superhuman strength and speed meant I was more than a match for most supernatural creatures, and the need for intricate tactics was less critical. While I respected the knowledge Carter shared and understood its importance for others, my own abilities allowed me to navigate these threats with an innate advantage that rendered some of the more detailed training less necessary for me while alone. But, while I hunted with them, I¡¯d keep it all in mind.

    They were turning me into a deadly hunter. Well, their kind of hunter. My own hunting abilities were much different than theirs, and far more superior. Carter took me under his wing on everything. Frank taught me all he knew about their weapons and tools and showed me how to use them. Then, they had me start working out with them almost every day. They put about ninety-nine percent of the rest of the world to shame in the gym, save for Olympic level athletes. They were all operating at about double the intensity of the average gym-rat.

    They had it down to a science. Everything they needed to get bigger, stronger, faster, and smarter. And Eleanor, she was a whiz in the kitchen. She kept them all fed and always at full strength with their carefully planned meals. I could tell early on that their family had been doing this for a very long time.

    They welcomed me into every aspect of their lives. They treated me like a friend. Sometimes I felt like family. It was more than I ever hoped for or thought possible. Everyone treated me this way, Eleanor, Clara, Wayland, Frank, and Autumn. They all actually seemed to want me around. I wondered if that would always be the case, and what would happen if the truth came out.

    My relationship with Autumn was confusing and complicated. Sometimes, it felt completely normal, like how I interacted with the rest of her family. Other times, it seemed like there was something more between us. She¡¯d give me these lingering looks, as if she was trying to say something without words. When we were close, she¡¯d find excuses to touch me¡ªlittle things like a brush of her hand or a light touch on my arm. It felt real, not just something I was imagining because I was lonely.

    But then there were times when she was distant and almost avoided me. Some nights, when I went over to her place, she¡¯d disappear upstairs into her room. I¡¯d end up listening for any sign of her, wondering what she was doing and why she was acting so strange.

    I really wanted to understand her better, to figure out what she thought about me and why her behavior was so unpredictable. She was always on my mind, especially when I wandered through the dark, empty factory or the woods near her house. I was constantly trying to piece together what was going on with her and what it all meant for me.

    The bestiaries were packed full of knowledge that the Chasses had accrued over the years. All kinds of mythical creatures littered the pages of the black leather books. There were too many to remember. I remembered every detail about the vampires I had fought. Every single scrap of a feature was burned into my brain. The eyes, the claws, the pungent smell of their blood, the way their bodies smoldered, and burst into flame when the sun infected their tissues. It was all locked away in the future reference section of my mind. The only other beasts I committed to memory were the ones I read about that sounded stronger than the average monster. Those were the creatures I could test myself against, the ones that could help me escape from this fate. However, after being with the Chasses, I hadn¡¯t been thinking about my own demise as much. They were bringing me back to a place I wanted to be.

    The training went on every day. There was no rest, no vacation, no time off from the constant preparation for the next fight. No one knew when it would happen, but they all just prepared like it could be any minute. They were a family of warriors.

    I was sitting in the library one night with Carter and Clara, reading up on a strange spirit called a Black Shuck. It was some kind of death omen. It was well past dark when we were quickly interrupted by a presence outside of the house. There was a steady knock from a strong fist on the front door. Carter and Clara shot each other a quick glance, then Carter went quickly to the door. He pulled open the sizeable wooden slab, revealing Martin to the rest of the family.

    ¡°Carter, thank God,¡± Martin was relieved. He entered the home without invitation.

    ¡°Come in, come in,¡± Carter quickly stepped aside to let him in. He had never seen Martin this hurried.

    The others looked warry at his presence but calm from their extended relationship. Carter welcomed him inside.

    Martin came in, undeterred by the others¡¯ rising heartbeats. They all knew that he wouldn¡¯t hurt them, but they were still aware of the dangers of being what he was. They would never really let their guard down.

    I should have acted more afraid.

    ¡°Sam, how have you been?¡± Martin asked, peering into me with piercing eyes. I could tell he noticed my steady heartbeat.

    Autumn walked down the stairs after hearing the commotion. She entered the living room with the rest of us, for the first time, as I spoke.

    ¡°Good¡­you?¡± I felt her eyes on me as I spoke with the vampire.

    He grinned at Carter, amused by my composure, ¡°I could be better.¡±

    I think Martin and Carter had spoken about my seemingly unafraid attitude towards him on our last encounter. Yet, I don¡¯t think Carter fully understood what Martin was so amused about.

    He came into the living room, joining the rest of us. It was very subtle, but the others gave Martin a wide berth as he moved and settled in different areas of the house. He came to a stop in front of the fireplace as the others situated themselves in the living room.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Carter¡¯s voice cut through the thick, heavy silence.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got news,¡± Martin said, his tone somber and foreboding. ¡°Something¡¯s coming¡­¡±

    The atmosphere in the room grew tense, each person shifting uneasily, the weight of dread hanging in the air.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Carter pressed, his eyes narrowing with concern.

    ¡°A hunting party,¡± Martin replied, his voice dropping to a darker register. ¡°Something I haven¡¯t seen in nearly a century. A group of ancient, extremely powerful immortals.¡±

    ¡°A hunting party of immortals¡­¡± Eleanor¡¯s voice trailed off as she asked, ¡°What are they hunting?¡±

    ¡°What we¡¯re hunting,¡± Martin said grimly. ¡°The black-eyed creature that killed those vampires. The stories are spreading, and now more people are starting to believe that something is out there, killing indiscriminately. The vampire who survived went underground, to the pits.¡±

    ¡°The pits?¡± I asked, feeling a chill creep down my spine.

    Carter¡¯s expression darkened as he answered, ¡°There are caves beneath the city¡ªancient, dark caverns carved out long before St. Louis was even a thought. Rumors and old stories speak of things still living down there¡­¡±

    Martin¡¯s voice cut in sharply, ¡°Those stories aren¡¯t just rumors¡ªthey¡¯re true. There are things in those depths, deep in the old caverns. Things that have existed down there for centuries.¡±

    The mention of the caves hit me hard. I had been there, exploring and mapping as much as I could. I had memorized every tunnel and passage I¡¯d found, but I had never discovered a way to delve deeper. The further reaches of the earth remained elusive. I had sensed people down there occasionally, caught faint scents, but I¡¯d always lost their trail before I could track them. The idea of ancient, hidden creatures stirring in the darkness was unsettling, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beneath the surface.

    ¡°What are they, vampires?¡± Carter asked, his voice edged with a mix of curiosity and unease.

    ¡°One of them, yes,¡± Martin replied, his eyes shadowed with a grim intensity. ¡°Charles, a vampire. He was born in the dark ages, making him one of the oldest and most formidable beings I¡¯ve ever encountered. He¡¯s immensely powerful.¡± Martin hesitated, the weight of his next words heavy in the room. ¡°He¡¯s also the one who turned me.¡±

    Carter¡¯s brows furrowed, his concern deepening as he tilted his head. ¡°What does that mean for us?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been over fifty years since we last spoke,¡± Martin said, his voice taut with apprehension. ¡°His presence will make things difficult for me. But we¡¯ll discuss that more later.¡± He took a deep breath, his expression darkening further. ¡°The second one, Phineas, is different. He¡¯s a natural-born chimera, possessing the abilities of various creatures. He may not be as old as Charles, but his diverse powers make him an extremely dangerous adversary, nearly impossible to kill.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s voice broke through the tension from the far end of the room, her tone laced with unease. ¡°We¡¯ve never encountered a chimera before.¡±

    ¡°It would be in your best interest if you never do,¡± Martin warned them all. ¡°I¡¯m giving you this information so you can lay low for a while, at least until they find this thing.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t just let them roam free. They could kill countless people¡­¡± Carter urged.

    ¡°Carter, listen to me!¡± Martin¡¯s voice erupted with fierce urgency, each word punctuated with a raw, commanding intensity. ¡°Do not make any moves against them. Do not go looking for them. Stay out of sight! Your family has done an extraordinary job of remaining hidden from our world. You never leave survivors after a hunt¡ªthat¡¯s what has kept you alive, what has kept you off the radar. If these three discover that hunters are here¡­¡± His voice dropped to a menacing growl, ¡°they will spread the word. They¡¯ll bring their allies, and they¡¯ll swarm you, exterminating every last one of you.¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    The room fell into a heavy silence, thick with tension. Every heartbeat seemed to echo in the charged atmosphere. I could feel the collective rise and fall of everyone¡¯s breaths, a palpable pulse of fear and anticipation. Martin¡¯s eyes flicked towards me, sensing the steady thrum of my heartbeat beneath the surface. His gaze sharpened as he assessed me with a quick, almost imperceptible tilt of his head, his perception catching the subtle rhythm of my pulse that the others failed to notice.

    ¡°Who¡¯s the third?¡± Wayland¡¯s voice was a low murmur, barely audible as he peered through the living room window, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside.

    Martin¡¯s head snapped back from me to the group with a sudden, almost violent intensity. ¡°A woman,¡± he said, his voice dripping with foreboding. ¡°Her name is Mercy. She¡¯s a witch. A very, very old witch. She¡¯s the most dangerous of them all. She can attack in ways that are¡­ unseen.¡±

    A witch. The word sent a shiver down my spine. It was a shiver of excitement. It was something new, something I hadn¡¯t come across in any of the bestiaries I¡¯d read.

    The hunters exchanged glances, their faces reflecting a mix of apprehension and curiosity. I stayed focused on Martin, hanging on every word he spoke.

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Carter¡¯s question cut through the tension.

    ¡°She¡¯s psychokinetic,¡± Martin said, his voice dark and heavy with menace. ¡°Her powers are unpredictable, and she wields them with a level of danger that¡¯s hard to fathom. I¡¯ve heard whispers that she also practices necromancy¡ªraising the dead and commanding them.¡±

    ¡°How is that even possible?¡± I interrupted, unable to hold back my disbelief.

    Martin¡¯s gaze shifted to me again, sharp and assessing. I could almost feel him sizing me up, noting something peculiar about me. I struggled to maintain a heartbeat that matched the tense rhythm of the room, trying to mask my calm.

    ¡°There are countless unknowns in this world,¡± Martin replied, his tone laden with a double meaning that echoed ominously in my mind. ¡°Many things are hidden, Sam. She draws her power from sources we cannot see, and that is what makes her more dangerous than the others. Her full capabilities are a mystery to us.¡±

    Martin turned his attention back to the others, but my focus remained on him. I was certain he suspected something about me, though I wasn¡¯t sure how much he knew. A gnawing anxiety settled in my gut, making me question whether my fears were just paranoia or something more.

    Martin turned sharply, ¡°I have a lot to do, things to prepare, but I need you to promise me¡­¡± he looked at Carter. ¡°Promise me that you will stay out of this¡­ at least until I know more.¡±

    Carter stood in silence, contemplating everything he had just learned. He nodded slowly at the floor as he leaned against the other end of the fireplace, agreeing to Martin¡¯s request. But he was still weighing options in his head.

    ¡°Charles has requested a meeting. I knew him ages ago, and I¡¯m sure he wants to get a foothold here with someone he knows. He sent some lesser vampires to my bar last night with the invitation. Surely, he wants to see what I have gathered about this monster killer.¡± Martin was pacing across the hardwood floors. ¡°I¡¯ll meet with him, find out what they know, and once I know it¡¯s safe, I¡¯ll return,¡± he said. ¡°But until then, please stay out of sight, even in the daylight. Charles can¡¯t get to you while the sun is out, but Phineas and Mercy can, and I won¡¯t be able to protect you.¡±

    Eleanor stepped forward, ¡°No one will hunt. You have my word, Martin.¡± She assured him and commanded the others.

    I stayed in my own head for the next few moments, processing what this meant. Three new powerful killers were in town. They had crawled up from the depths beneath the city and they were hunting for me. I lured them out from under the caverns with the carnage and chaos that I had left in my wake. I brought this on my new friends. I brought this to St. Louis. How many innocent people would they kill while they were in town?

    I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what I was going to do, but I knew the first thing I had to; I had to protect the Chasses. I had to keep them all safe. I couldn¡¯t leave them anymore, not in the day or the night, neither was safe. Charles, the vampire, could reach them at night, and the witch, Mercy, or the chimera, Phineas, could reach them in the day. I had to make sure they stayed out of sight.

    Martin was saying goodbye, everyone still keeping their distance, as he made his way back to the door. ¡°Sam¡­¡± he nodded to me in acknowledgment, ¡°I¡¯ll see you again soon.¡±

    To everyone else, this was just a courteous statement to make the new hunter feel welcome around the old vampire. Not to me. To me, it was something else entirely. Oh, he was acknowledging me, but subtly letting me know that he knew. He knew that I was hiding something. Though, the way he said it assured me that he hadn¡¯t mentioned anything to Carter or the rest of them. He wouldn¡¯t, not until he knew what I was hiding.

    I couldn¡¯t worry about Martin though. I had more pressing issues to focus on. I had to keep everyone safe from the old monsters that I had summoned from the depths.

    <hr>

    I was standing in the kitchen, the cacophony of voices from the living room and library a roaring backdrop to my thoughts. I needed a moment to escape, to find a sliver of peace amid the chaos. The new threat was stirring something primal within me, shaking the cage of the monster that lurked just beneath the surface. It was restless, desperate to break free and defend my new family. But more than that¡­ it wanted to run free and kill. It wanted to test itself against these three new anomalies.

    I envisioned my hands slick with the blood of vanquished foes, the thrill of combat igniting a fierce, visceral hunger within me. I imagined my black talons tearing through their flesh, my teeth sinking into their throats, and my bare hands rending their bodies apart. The monster inside me throbbed with an insatiable urge to kill, its presence a constant, demanding force in my mind. I could feel my pulse throbbing in every inch of my flesh. My whole body pulsed as I stood in calm silence.

    I reached for a glass from the cabinet, the cool, smooth surface a stark contrast to the heat of my thoughts. Filling it with water from the sink, I took measured sips, each one a deliberate attempt to calm the storm within. Deep breaths followed each drink, a struggle to cage the beast that roared and raged, pushing against the confines of my control.

    ¡°Scary, isn¡¯t it?¡± Autumn appeared beside me.

    I nodded, ¡°Strange for sure¡­¡±

    She leaned against the counter right beside me, ¡°This is new for me too. I¡¯ve never dealt with a chimera or a witch before, and the vampire¡­ if he is older than Martin, then there¡¯s no telling how powerful he is,¡± she spoke in a rush, truly worried. She tried to maintain her sense of control, but I could see how she really felt.

    ¡°I¡¯ve read about chimeras, but there wasn¡¯t too much about them. The bestiary just said that they have traits of other creatures¡­¡± I trailed off.

    ¡°Yeah, they do. The bestiary doesn¡¯t have specifics because one chimera could be completely different from another. They can consume and take on certain traits of other things. It just all depends on what they consume,¡± Autumn informed.

    I wondered if he could consume me¡­ if he could become what I was. Then I started to think about what all he had consumed before, what kind of threat he posed to Autumn, and the rest of her family, what kind of things he would be able to do. Hopefully, these would be the things that Martin would discover in his meeting with Charles. I couldn¡¯t let him hurt them.

    I was about to ask her what all she knew about Witches, but she beat me with her own question.

    ¡°You want to get out of here?¡± Her voice was innocent, but there was a flicker of nervousness in her eyes that betrayed her calm demeanor. ¡°Just for a little while. It¡¯s getting a bit hectic, and there¡¯s not much we can do anyway.¡±

    This was one of those rare days I cherished, where her desire to be near me was clear and unguarded.

    ¡°Is it safe for us to leave?¡± I asked, my concern genuine but layered with an undercurrent of worry about her safety.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± she assured, though her tone carried an edge of uncertainty. ¡°St. Louis is a big city. They¡¯re hunting something monstrous, not us. We can still live our lives, just not by going out and hunting monsters ourselves. We don¡¯t want to attract their attention.¡±

    I nodded, feeling a rush of relief and anticipation. ¡°Alright, I could use some fresh air. You sure no one will mind?¡± My question held a double meaning. One of genuine concern for our safety and the other about our time together away from the others. I was growing increasingly aware that her family might be catching on to the subtle tension between us, however fleeting.

    She flashed a grin that was both mischievous and reassuring. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯ll be fine. Besides, I need to get out of here. I think Patrick and his family are on their way over.¡±

    As we prepared to leave, the weight of the situation and the promise of our time alone together built up a heady mix of anxiety and excitement.

    Now I could see the reason she really wanted to leave. She had been dodging Patrick ever since they had arrived back in town. They returned a few weeks earlier but hadn¡¯t come around when I was there. They had apparently brought some family back with them, so I assumed that they had their own things going on. Autumn had talked about Patrick¡¯s grandmother, Annabelle, and the things she could do, so I was glad that they hadn¡¯t appeared. I didn¡¯t want to meet her. I was scared that if she could do what Autumn had said, that she would see what I was underneath. She might be able to peer inside the cage and gaze upon the rage and death that clawed to get out. I couldn¡¯t let that happen.

    But for now, if Autumn was leaving the safety of her house, I would be by her side. I¡¯d go anywhere with her to keep her safe.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m ready whenever you are.¡±

    Her smile was warm and reassuring. ¡°Good. Let me just tell my dad, and then we¡¯ll head out.¡±

    A few minutes later, we were sliding into the sleek black car that usually rested in front of Carter¡¯s house. As we zipped down the interstate, the cityscape grew closer, and with each mile, my sense of unease deepened. It wasn¡¯t her safety that troubled me; I had no doubt I¡¯d protect her at any cost. It was the fear of what might happen if I had to reveal my true self to her; what she would see, what I might become in the heat of danger.

    ¡°So, what are you in the mood for?¡± she asked, her gaze briefly flickering over to me from the driver¡¯s seat.

    ¡°Whatever you want¡­ I¡¯m not exactly well-versed in the city,¡± I replied, my words tinged with a truth and a lie. I wasn¡¯t just a workaholic; I was more of a recluse, avoiding the world outside.

    She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder, and flicked on her left blinker. ¡°I know a place we can go.¡±

    Within minutes, we were navigating the dim, labyrinthine corridors of a concrete parking garage. The darkness was pervasive, illuminated only by scattered floodlights clinging to the gray pillars. I kept my senses on high alert. My ears straining to catch the faintest of sounds, my nose tracking the subtle odors of oil and stale air, and my eyes scanning the dimly lit space, fighting the urge to let them turn black with heightened focus. I don¡¯t think she¡¯d like that at all.

    As we moved through the garage on foot and descended the concrete stairs to the ground level, the chill of the stagnant air pressed in around us. Her scent was a constant presence, mingling with the cool, musty air, filling the empty space around us. I kept a half-step behind her, intentionally maintaining a respectful distance while my senses drank in every detail of her presence. The anticipation of what might come next crackled between us, every step echoing in the cavernous silence, each moment heightening my awareness of her and the delicate balance we were treading.

    ¡°Why are you so quiet?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Just thinking¡­¡± I responded.

    ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± I said, quickly realizing the intimacy this statement uncovered in her.

    Her eyes looked vulnerable for a split second. She looked happy, hopeful like she was discovering something she had been searching for, for a long time. They were hard not to stare into. I felt like I could see¡­ feel the want inside of them, like she actually wanted to be close with me.

    ¡°I was wondering if any of this is getting to you? You seem pretty calm after everything.¡±

    Her eyes hardened back to the confident hunter, ¡°Oh, no, I¡¯m fine.¡± Then she corrected herself, ¡°Well, I mean, I¡¯m as fine as usual. I¡¯m always affected by the things we do. We all are. I guess it¡¯s just my normal now.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°This is your normal? I¡¯d like to see you when there isn¡¯t a threat of the supernatural hiding around the corner. You must not have a care in the world.¡±

    She smiled, ¡°Yeah, that hasn¡¯t happened in a while. We¡¯re usually always hunting, training, or researching something. Actually, the last few weeks have been the driest in a while¡­ until tonight, that is.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Martin usually feeds us information constantly. There¡¯s usually a vampire nest, a rogue werewolf, malevolent spirit, or something for us to tend to. But lately, nothing.¡± She shook her head slowly as she led the way down the concrete path.

    ¡°Why do you think that is?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe it has something to do with the thing that¡¯s killing other monsters. Maybe they can sense something. Maybe they¡¯re hiding.¡±

    Maybe she was right. Maybe once I let that vampire escape, the word got out to all creatures. Maybe they knew I was out there, roaming the city in search of my next creature to kill.

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± I agreed with her. A lot of maybes.

    We had made our way, about two blocks from the parking garage, down the chilly sidewalk to a small cafe. Their focus was coffee, I could tell from the scent that encompassed the area. I pulled the door open for her, let her pass, and followed her in. She smirked, ever so slightly, to herself. I assumed she wasn¡¯t used to this kind of treatment.

    I couldn¡¯t see how people didn¡¯t treat her this way. First of all, where I came from, it was common courtesy. Second, she was a goddess, strong, fast, beautiful, a warrior. She was what you saw in movies, she could do things no average human could do. If she wanted to, she could beat the shit out of every single person in that little coffee shop. Yet, she had morals and a purpose. She was driven by family, love, and sheer will. If I had any sort of real chance with someone like her, when I was human, I would have stumbled over myself every day trying to please her.

    ¡°I come here all the time to study in between classes since it¡¯s so close to campus. It¡¯s quiet, and usually not too busy. Most people go to Starbucks around the corner.¡±

    We walked to a booth in the back corner of the room. She slid across the leather cushion, and I mirrored her movements. A waitress walked over and took our orders; Autumn got a coffee, and I just asked for water.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got some good food here also if you¡¯re hungry.¡± The waitress stated. A strange tone and stumble in her voice. I assumed it was the unexplainable fear the monster induced sometimes. She was trying to be extra polite, but it came off as flirty. She was just subconsciously trying not to get decapitated.

    ¡°I¡¯m alright, for now,¡± I thanked the waitress.

    Autumn widened and cocked her eyes toward the waitress as she walked away and then back to me. She was smirking, ¡°I think you have a fan.¡± The fear in the waitress wasn¡¯t rational for humans in their daily lives, so Autumn¡¯s confusion wasn¡¯t a surprise.

    It was hard not to be infected by her amusement. I shook my head, grinning, ¡°Not for me¡­¡±

    Within only a minute or two, the waitress was back with our drinks. I was looking around, inspecting the safety of the coffee shop. It was a low-lit place with soft, quiet music regularly playing behind the low hum of other patrons. But from what I could tell, it was safe for the moment.

    The waitress said something, but I didn¡¯t hear her. I was too caught up in monitoring the surrounding area. Autumn answered her since it got kind of awkward when I didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°No thanks, I think we¡¯re good.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ just let me know if you guys need anything,¡± she said, then walked away again, a little too fast.

    Autumn had a funny look on her face. She was smirking at the table, obviously in thought about something. She settled into a deep silence, scratching the table over and over with her grey painted thumbnail.

    ¡°You trying to dig a hole?¡± I said after a minute of silence, trying to get her to snap out of her daze.

    ¡°Sorry, I was just thinking¡­ I still don¡¯t know that much about you.¡± She squinted, cocking her head to the side.

    Shit.

    ¡°What do you want to know?¡± I asked in fear.

    She looked like she had a thousand different things she wanted to ask me, questions and thoughts raced through her expressions. I hoped she landed on an easy one.

    ¡°Where¡¯d you come from? I mean, I know you were here working construction, but where did you come from before. I know you said you grew up in Texas, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, then once I got on with the construction company, I went wherever they sent me.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve just moved around ever since?¡±

    ¡°Yep, all over the place,¡± I lied.

    ¡°Where have you been?¡± she asked.

    Then came more lies, ¡°Springfield, Oklahoma City, New Orleans, Dallas,¡± I made sure to throw that one in since I actually knew it. I knew things about my old home, just in case she asked about specifics, ¡°and now I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ve been by yourself the whole time?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, pretty much?¡±

    She looked like I hadn¡¯t satisfied her question just yet, ¡°So you haven¡¯t ever had anyone with you¡­ any girlfriends?¡±

    It hit me hard. I didn¡¯t want to lie to her. I wanted to try and be somewhat truthful. ¡°I did actually. There was one girl that I was with for a while, and it was pretty serious.¡±

    ¡°What was her name?¡±

    ¡°It was Vicky.¡± Shit, I shouldn¡¯t have used her real name. But there were thousands of women named Vicky¡­ right. What were the chances of her figuring out anything? It just came out too fast.

    She leaned forward, intrigued, ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡±

    Then she jumped back in her seat, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I shouldn¡¯t have asked, that¡¯s personal.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine,¡± I assured her. ¡°Uh, it¡¯s kind of complicated, but basically, something changed. I wasn¡¯t the same person she fell in love with.¡± I measured my words carefully.

    ¡°So, did you love her?¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°How did you change?¡±

    This was the tricky part, ¡°Things changed between us. I felt different around her. I didn¡¯t think she loved me or could love me anymore. So, I left.¡± I kept it as close to the truth as possible.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, reaching across the table to put her hand on top of mine. Her skin on my own was intense. I could feel her pulse surge through her flesh and into my hand. It was like I could feel her actual life force. ¡°Is that what you¡¯re always thinking about?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked confused at her words.

    ¡°You have this thing you sometimes do. You¡¯ll stop randomly and freeze up. It seems like you¡¯re in deep thought about something. We figured it was all of this new stuff you¡¯ve been learning, but then you treat all the supernatural like it¡¯s nothing. We figured it was something personal from your past,¡± she explained.

    ¡°We?¡± I asked.

    ¡°My family and I notice it,¡± she said.

    ¡°Oh,¡± I was taken aback. So, they noticed things about me that I wasn¡¯t even aware of. This worried me.

    ¡°You said you were the one that left?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No¡­ I mean, once we broke up, I went on with my life.¡±

    ¡°How long ago was that?¡± she asked.

    ¡°A few years ago,¡± I brushed it off. ¡°I¡¯ve moved on, she¡¯s moved on. I¡¯m happy where I¡¯m at right now.¡± If only that was completely true.

    With a refreshed look, she said, ¡°Well, good, I¡¯m glad.¡±

    ¡°The supernatural stuff definitely does get to me, though. I guess I¡¯m just thinking about everything sometimes, trying to remember things I¡¯ve read, things I¡¯ve seen.¡±

    I felt like I had lied too much and revealed enough about myself. I wanted to get the attention off me for the moment, ¡°So what about you? How serious were you and Patrick?¡±

    She pulled her hand back from mine, hoping she wasn¡¯t too intrusive, ¡°Semi-serious, I guess. We were off and on for a while like I said before, but it just never really moved deeper than what I felt like it should be.¡±

    I liked her answers and her feelings toward Patrick. It even made the monster content deep in his cage.

    ¡°So, no more Patrick?¡± I grinned.

    ¡°No,¡± she chuckled.

    We laughed together for a moment. I loved the sound of her voice, her laugh, any noise she made. I found myself staring again, but I realized she was as well. No one said anything for a moment.

    ¡°You¡¯re strange¡­¡± she muttered.

    I cocked my head to the side, unsure of where that had come from.

    She laughed apologetically, ¡°Sorry, not strange in a bad way. Strange, like I can¡¯t figure you out.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s something about you. It¡¯s in your eyes. Not all the time, just every once in a while. It¡¯s like¡­ fearlessness¡­ it¡¯s hard to explain. My family sees it too. Frank said he saw it the first night they saw you when you were about to fight those vampires by yourself. Rookie move¡­,¡± she shook her head and pursed her lips in an unapproving manor.

    I laughed, ¡°Sometimes, you have to just be confident, and just start swinging.¡±

    She chuckled for a few moments, laughing loud enough for the surrounding customers to look over.

    We had finished our drinks and talked for about another half an hour. We didn¡¯t talk about anything too serious, just joked around and playfully challenged one another to various training tasks. I was getting to be a reasonably good marksman with the bow, crossbow, and rifle. She could definitely beat me with the way I shot, but I could tune my eyes a little more monstrously and beat her, no problem. I liked to rile her up, making her playful side come out, and watch her plot to destroy me in a challenge.

    She was laughing as she checked her phone, ¡°Wow, we should probably head out. We¡¯ve been here for almost two hours. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll start getting calls soon if we don¡¯t head back.¡± She seemed reluctant.

    We paid, left, and made our way outside. We walked side by side back down the sidewalk from where we came. We didn¡¯t say anything at first. Leaving the small, close atmosphere of the booth seemed to take things back to their normal state. She was guarded again, and it made me bring up my guards as well. I thought feverishly about what to say, but I couldn¡¯t muster anything up. The harder I thought, the more I went blank.

    Then, she stopped. I walked a few steps in front of her before I stopped as well. I looked back at her, looking at me.

    ¡°You okay?¡±

    She took a short, quiet breath, ¡°I don¡¯t want to go back yet.¡± She looked at me, her brown eyes burning with a longing stare.

    I didn¡¯t either, ¡°Okay.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure what else to say.

    I felt the monster pushing me towards her, my deepest urges wanted me to do what I ached to do.

    She started walking the few steps to me, closing the distance and stopping right in front of me. Her toes were almost touching mine. Her face was intimately close to my face, turned into the side.

    ¡°I like this, I don¡¯t want it to end yet,¡± she whispered in my ear.

    My heart skipped a beat and then started pounding in my chest. Everything up to this point had been, at best, casual flirting. Half the time, I didn¡¯t think it was real, just my imagination. But now¡­ she actually spoke the words. She wanted to be here¡­ with me.

    How was this possible? Why was it happening? I didn¡¯t deserve this, or her. I was a monster, a killer. I wasn¡¯t supposed to let myself get so close to her. It wasn¡¯t right. I had to do right by her, just as I did for Vicky and Caydee. I tried to fight it.

    I turned my face into hers, whispering back into her ear, ¡°I don¡¯t either¡­¡±

    We both leaned slightly back to look into each other¡¯s eyes, point-blank. I felt what I wanted to do, and I struggled against the monster inside. My darkest urges weren¡¯t to harm her, but to stop fighting myself and give into what I wanted, and I wanted her, badly.

    She leaned into my face, almost touching my lips. She pressed her forehead into mine and closed her eyes. She looked troubled, like something that was always in the back of her mind was surfacing. She breathed through it and grabbed my arm, squeezing it urgently.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to my car¡­¡± she urged.

    I nodded, and then we were off. Her tight grip loosened from my upper arm and slid down to find my hand locking her fingers through mine. She led the way, pulling me with authority through the darkened city. We were somewhere between jogging and running back to the parking garage as we climbed the stairs to the second level. We came up to her car, short of breath. It wasn¡¯t from the running, but from the nervousness, the expectation of what was happening.

    We stopped at the rear driver¡¯s side door of her black car. The tension between us crackled in the air, palpable and thick. She hit the unlock button with a trembling hand, and the door clicked open. Without hesitation, she slipped into the tight confines of the back seat, pulling me in behind her. The door closed with a soft thud, sealing us in, and suddenly, it was just the two of us, the world outside forgotten.

    "Sam... this isn¡¯t a mistake, is it?" Her voice trembled, laced with a vulnerability that cut through the thick air. Her eyes, wide and uncertain, searched mine for reassurance.

    "It doesn¡¯t feel like a mistake¡­" I murmured, my gaze locking onto hers. Her wariness mirrored my own, and yet, the magnetic pull between us was undeniable.

    "It doesn¡¯t to me either," she whispered, her voice barely audible, like she was afraid the words might shatter the fragile moment.

    Before I could respond, she surged forward, her body pressing against mine with a sudden, fierce urgency. She straddled me, pinning me to the back seat with a strength that belied her size. Her hands, warm and trembling, slid up to my neck, then over my shoulders, tracing the lines of my arms and chest. Her touch was electric, her fingers lingering as if committing every inch of me to memory. Her eyes followed the path of her hands, dark and intense, as though she was searching for something beneath my skin.

    She leaned in, her breath hot against my face as she rested her forehead against mine, her hair a dark curtain that cascaded onto my chest as she hovered over me, just inches away. The space between us was charged, every breath, every heartbeat, amplified by the tension that threatened to consume us both. The world outside was a distant memory, and all that mattered was this moment, the unspoken words hanging in the air, and the desperate, aching need that pulsed between us.

    I had been doing unexpectedly well up until this point. I was holding myself back, mostly too caught up in watching as she pulled me in and got on top of me. I couldn¡¯t fight the next urge. I reached for her, jerking my hands up and then hesitantly putting them on her arms, careful not to hurt her.

    I was at a crossroads. At this point, I could go either way. I could do the right thing, push her back and tell her this was a mistake, or I could pull her in, do what I yearned to do, what the monster was amplifying. It was a quick decision. I couldn¡¯t think about it too much, or I wouldn¡¯t do it.

    She felt me pulling her in and took it as a signal. She fiercely smashed her lips into mine, kissing me like she had been waiting to do it since we first met. I put one hand on her side and the other behind her neck, pulling her in tighter. She laid into me. Her body curved into mine as we stretched out in the back seat. My senses felt everything, smelled everything, saw everything. I could feel her warmth, the heat, coming from her body, her breasts pushing into my chest as she lay on top of me; the smell of her hair was running rampant as the dark locks caressed my face. Being this close with her ripped away any remnants of the internal struggle I usually had around her. I didn¡¯t want to fight it anymore, I just wanted more. I wanted it all.

    She pulled up for air every minute or so, prying herself out of the hot, tangled mess of grabbing hands and the fierce locking of our lips, asking, ¡°Is this okay?¡±

    I always nodded, keeping my hands tightly clamped around her wrists, ready to pull her back in as soon as she could breathe again. One of the times she sat up, she pulled off her jacket and threw it in the floorboard, revealing her bare arms in the dark, loose-fitting top she was wearing. I ran my hands over every inch of her exposed arms. I could see the strap of her silver blade¡¯s sheath, wrapped around her waist, as her shirt inched up in our frenzy.

    I wondered how far she would take it, or if I would stop it. I wasn¡¯t sure where it was going, but I didn¡¯t care. I just didn¡¯t want her to stop.

    Then I heard something, it was the sound of feet leaping and running somewhere in the parking garage. I sat up, Autumn still on my chest. She inched off.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Should we stop?¡± she asked, shakily.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that. I thought I heard something¡­¡± I said quickly.

    She looked around, ¡°I didn¡¯t hear anything.¡±

    No, she wouldn¡¯t. This was too far away for her to hear.

    I heard them getting closer. The footsteps were getting louder, circling us. I saw the flicker of a shadow pass by one of the floodlights in the parking garage.

    ¡°Did you see that?¡± I asked Autumn, who was still trying to catch her breath and fix her hair.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I did,¡± she had a look of slight concern on her face.

    We waited in silence for it to happen again, but nothing. We waited for anything, but nothing else happened. The sound of the footsteps actually died down and had disappeared. Whatever it was didn¡¯t seem to be around anymore.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Let¡¯s get out of here,¡± Autumn said. ¡°Mom and Dad are probably wondering about us anyways.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± I said, not wanting to get out of the position we were in. She leaned into me one last time and kissed me again, slowly this time.

    We sat there for a second, slowly, but still passionately kissing. It was intense and unusual. I never felt this before, the wild physical urges that forced us into each other. She attacked me, like kissing me was the only way she could get oxygen to survive.

    I wondered if it was the monster. Maybe it had some sort of pull on her, drew her in, and attracted her to me. It had to be because this was something I had never felt before. It was raw¡­ primal.

    We pulled away from each other and forced ourselves back out of the black car. It had gotten so hot inside of the vehicle when we opened the door, the fresh air felt like a blast of wind from a blizzard.

    As soon as we had shut the back door and were standing outside the vehicle, the footsteps began again. Fast, whirring shadows whipped all around us, quick rushes of air were streaming all around the area. They all came to a stop at the same time. The eyes were the first things I noticed. Crimson and bloodshot. Three vampires stood in front of us.

 Chapter 17 - Running

    We both knew what they were the moment we saw them. Vampires on the prowl, their hunger palpable in the night air. My heart hammered in my chest, but it wasn¡¯t fear for my own safety. It was for Autumn, her safety. The thought of her getting hurt, of me failing to protect her, sent a wave of icy panic through me. How did I miss them? How had I been so careless?

    I knew I could protect her, but my own secret loomed like a dark shadow. If they found out what I was¡­ if she saw what I turned into¡­ it would all be over. Everything I¡¯d built, the life I¡¯d carefully crafted with the Chasse family, would crumble. The thought of losing it all clawed at me, but the fear of losing her, of watching her be torn apart by these monsters, was even worse.

    I stole a glance at Autumn, trying to keep the terror from my eyes, trying to keep the beast inside from showing itself. ¡°Run,¡± I said, my voice a low, urgent command.

    But she was already moving, her instincts sharp as ever. She pulled a small bag from one of her pockets, then the silver blade from its sheath at her back. The vampires recoiled, hissing at the sight of the gleaming metal, their curses filling the air. They took a few steps toward us, testing the waters, but the sight of the silver kept them at bay, if only for a moment. Did they know we were hunters¡­ or was this something else.

    Autumn backed away from the car, and I followed, every step calculated to maintain the fragile illusion for her; but to also maintain the exact distance I wanted between the monsters and her. I had to pretend I was human, that I was as vulnerable as she was. I had to hide my true nature, even though every fiber of my being screamed to unleash it, to end them all in a flash of talons and fangs. But I couldn¡¯t. Not without revealing everything. Not without risking her seeing the monster I really was.

    But even as the fear gnawed at me, as the anxiety threatened to consume me, one thing was clear. I couldn¡¯t let anything happen to Autumn. I wouldn¡¯t. I¡¯d protect her with every ounce of strength I had. Even if it meant losing everything else in the process.

    I was continually watching their closeness, waiting for the last second to rip their fucking throats out. I fought the urge to shift, to kill. But I kept it primed, right on the edge.

    Autumn took the baggy and ripped it open, slinging the contents into the air. Millions of silver particles erupted into the space between us, creating a supernatural barrier between us and the bloodsuckers. They all bared their teeth and growled at the trap. They couldn¡¯t get to us, not this head-on way. If they did the particulates would invade their bodies and weaken them. They¡¯d be vulnerable, and they knew it. They were backing away quickly, extremely careful not to get remotely close to the rapidly spreading dust.

    Autumn looked to me in a rush, ¡°Now run!¡±

    We tore off on foot, the silver cloud a faint glimmer in the distance as we left the car behind, now unreachable on the other side of the shimmering barrier. Every muscle in my body burned with frustration as I sprinted just behind Autumn, matching her pace stride for stride. The night was alive with danger, and the gnawing fear that any moment one of those bloodsuckers could close in was like a constant dagger in my side. I stayed as close to her as I could, my senses on high alert, ready to intercept any threat that got too close.

    ¡°Follow me!¡± she ordered, her voice cutting through the pounding of our footsteps as we flew down another staircase in the dimly lit parking garage. The echo of our steps reverberated off the cold concrete, a grim reminder of how trapped we were in this labyrinth. ¡°They¡¯ll be more cautious on the street, in front of the public. They won¡¯t follow us out in the open.¡±

    It was just like how that vampire got away from me a while back. The pedestrians acting as a deterrent for my monstrous, bloody visage. Now the roles were reversed.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I forced out between fake, ragged breaths, trying to keep the panic from seeping into my voice. My exaggerated panting was an act, but the tension twisting inside me was all too real.

    ¡°My dorm room¡­¡± she gasped, her voice strained with effort. ¡°Parts of the campus are imbued with silver warding. We can lose them there and get to my dorm¡­¡± Another deep, shuddering breath from the extreme physical exertion. ¡°We¡¯ll be safe there until morning.¡±

    The city blurred around us as we sprinted down the sidewalks, dodging startled pedestrians who shot us wild, bewildered stares. They had no idea what was hunting us, no idea that their ordinary night was intersecting with our nightmare. We kept close to the crowds, a desperate move to ensure there were always eyes on us. The vampires wouldn¡¯t dare make a move in front of so many witnesses. The risk of exposure would turn them into prey themselves, hunted by the ancient ones who ruled the shadows of the city.

    But I could see it. Autumn was slowing down, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. She was fast, stronger than any other woman I¡¯d ever met, but this was a relentless sprint, even for her. The frustration gnawed at me, the helplessness of watching her push herself to the limit while I held back, pretending to be weaker than I was, pretending I couldn¡¯t just scoop her up and run until we were safe.

    But I couldn¡¯t. I had to play this game, hide who I really was, even as every fiber of my being screamed at me to do more. To protect her.

    ¡°How much further?¡± I shouted at her as we ran.

    ¡°Turn right after this building,¡± she said with labored breath and pointed forward.

    We darted past a small brick building and took a sharp right, but the turn was too tight for her tired legs. She stumbled, her steps faltering as her body began to give out. I felt a surge of frustration as I grabbed her arm, my grip firm, keeping her from collapsing. Her fingers clung to my hand, desperate for stability, but I could feel the tremor in her muscles, the exhaustion pulling her down. We were slowing down too much.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± I growled under my breath, the curse slipping out in a mix of anger and fear.

    She was fading, her energy drained, yet she kept pushing, even though her body was screaming for her to stop. I could hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that made my own pulse quicken in fear. It was like she was running on fumes, each step more labored than the last, and I could feel time slipping away from us, the urgency gnawing at my insides.

    ¡°Autumn¡­ stop, take a second,¡± I barked, my voice edged with desperation. Every instinct screamed at me to get her to safety, but she was slowing down, and I couldn¡¯t stand the thought of them catching up. But if she didn¡¯t take a second, she would just keep declining.

    ¡°We can¡¯t stop¡­ we have to make it to the warding¡­ we¡¯ll lose them there,¡± she gasped, struggling to force the words out. Her breath was overpowering her words, her voice barely above a whisper, but she kept going, sheer determination driving her forward.

    We sprinted across a street, weaving through the sparse traffic, and slipped between two buildings, out of sight from the civilians. The alley stretched before us, narrow and dark, but I could see the faint light at the other end, the exit. We were close, so close, but the frustration boiled inside me. I needed to do more. She was barely holding on, and every second felt like a lifetime.

    ¡°Just past this next street¡­ then we¡¯ll be there¡­¡± she panted, her voice a strained whisper of the strength she had left.

    Then, two shadows emerged at the end of the alley, tall and foreboding, their silhouettes sharp against the dim light. They stood motionless, like statues carved from the night itself. We screeched to a halt, the sudden stop nearly sending Autumn to the ground. Her legs, weakened from exhaustion, gave out beneath her, and I grabbed her, holding her upright once more. But before we could even catch our breath, another shadow materialized behind us, silent and menacing.

    We were trapped.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± Autumn¡¯s voice trembled, a mix of fear and apology threading through her words. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t know¡­ how they knew¡­¡± Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

    She thought they were after us because she was a hunter, that somehow they¡¯d discovered her family¡¯s legacy. But I knew better. This wasn¡¯t some calculated ambush; it was pure chance. The way their faces twisted in shock when she unleashed the silver dust told me everything. This wasn¡¯t a planned attack. They weren¡¯t hunting hunters. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, I guess ultimately they were the unlucky ones. I was with her.

    The realization though, hit me like ice in my veins. These vampires weren¡¯t targeting us for who we were; we¡¯d simply crossed paths with them on a night when they were out for blood. What if I hadn¡¯t been here? The shift in their demeanor after Autumn revealed her silver was unmistakable. They hadn¡¯t expected resistance, but now they were angry, focused, and ready to kill.

    Dread gnawed at me, relentless and cold, as I considered how close she came to disaster. Autumn wasn¡¯t on a hunt, wasn¡¯t prepared like she would have been with her family. She was just living her life. If she had been alone in that parking garage¡­

    The thought twisted inside me, rattling the cage that held the beast within, pushing it closer to the surface. The idea of those monsters catching her alone made my blood boil, my instincts screaming to protect her, to destroy anything that threatened her.

    The vampires kept their distance, cautious, calculating. Autumn, still reeling, couldn¡¯t see it, but their eyes were locked on me. To them, she was merely a distraction, a side note. They hadn¡¯t known she was a hunter until she¡¯d drawn her silver blade, unleashing the dust. Now, to them, we were both threats that needed to be eliminated. I drew more of their attention because they could sense a difference between Autumn and myself. When they looked at her they saw a girl struggling from extreme physical exertion. When they looked at me, they saw right through my fa?ade. The show I put on didn¡¯t match what their own senses told them. They could hear the slow steady beat of my monstrous heart, unaffected by the intensity of the escape we were aiming to make.

    Autumn, still struggling for breath, found a sliver of resolve and gripped her blade, raising it in preparation. I mirrored her action, my movements slower, deliberate, trying to maintain the fragile mask of my human form for Autumn¡¯s sake. But fear coursed through me, sharp and bitter, a fear I hadn¡¯t felt in so long. The fear of losing someone I cared about¡­ her. The poison of dread seeped into my veins, and I knew, deep down, that if I didn¡¯t transform, if I didn¡¯t unleash the monster within even just a little bit, she would die.

    But if I did¡­ everything I¡¯d gained with Autumn and her family would be lost. I¡¯d become the very thing they hunted. The monster lurking in the shadows.

    The lead vampire nodded to the others, signaling their attack. They believed their numbers would overwhelm us, that they could take us down by force even slightly affected by the little bit of particulate that had found a way into their systems. I felt the tension in the air snap like a wire pulled too tight, and as I looked back, the two blocking our path blurred, moving with inhuman speed. They thought it was a done deal. They thought it was over.

    They were wrong.

    Autumn had pulled another small packet from her back pocket, pouring its contents in her hand during the passing moments before the initial attack. She threw the fistful of silver flakes in the path of the two blurring vampires, right as they attacked. Her timing was perfect, especially considering how tired her body was. I was impressed. This might give me just the thing I needed to do this her way and save my mask a little while longer.

    The effect was immediate and violent. It was as if the vampires had slammed into an unseen wall, their momentum shattered. They staggered, their shrieks of agony filling the alley as the silver burned through them like acid as it moved inside their bodies. The sound of their hissing echoed off the walls, a haunting chorus of pain.

    I didn¡¯t hesitate. In one swift motion, I lunged forward and drove my silver blade through the skull of the nearest vampire. His screams ceased instantly, his body crumpling at my feet.

    But then, a sickening thud reverberated through the alley. I spun around just in time to see the lead vampire barrel into Autumn, his speed and force sending her crashing into a dumpster. The impact was brutal, the metal caving in with a loud, echoing clang as she fell to the ground, motionless.

    ¡°NO!¡± The word tore from me, a primal roar, as the dark dread I¡¯d fought to contain threatened to consume me whole.

    I surged forward, moving faster than I should have, the beast within clawing its way to the surface. My hand shot out, seizing the vampire by the throat with a grip that could have crushed steel. I slammed him against the wall with a sickening crunch, his eyes wide with shock as I pinned him there, helpless. Without hesitation, I drove my blade into his chest, the silver slicing through flesh and bone.

    I didn¡¯t stop. Again and again, I plunged the blade into him, blood spurting in violent arcs, painting the walls in crimson. His body convulsed with each strike, but I kept going, each thrust fueled by a brutal rage that roared in my ears. When I finally let go, his body slid down the wall, a lifeless husk, crumpling to the ground in a pool of blood, limbs twisted and motionless like a broken doll.

    The third one was frozen like a deer in headlights. The vampire was starting to panic, still burning from the silver dust. He lunged forward a couple of times like he was about to attack, but then he¡¯d restrain himself, stepping back again. Self-preservation was keeping him at bay. I had just killed his two friends in seconds, and he now knew that he didn¡¯t stand a chance. He was scared and confused.

    Now I saw it. Their mode of attack was always so similar. They were like pack animals. Most of them joined together for strength and then trapped prey in alleys at opposing sides. Everything seemed so familiar, and then I remembered my other run-ins with the vampiric beasts. Three seemed to be the magic number, but it didn¡¯t matter to me. I ran them down every time. They could overpower a lot with a trio of vampires; groups of humans, weaker supernatural creatures, or whatever else they might find. But not me.

    I looked over to Autumn. I could hear her arms moving to try to get up, breathing just as hard as she was while running. I needed to get to her.

    I spun around, but he was already gone, the spot where he stood now an empty void. The night swallowed him whole, the echo of his heavy footsteps fading into the distance as he bolted into the shadows. My heart pounded with the realization, he¡¯d escaped. The implications hit me like a sledgehammer.

    Autumn was safe, for now, but that safety was fragile, a thin layer of calm before the storm that was sure to follow. He¡¯d seen too much, knew too much, and now he was out there, free to report back, to rally more of his kind. The thought gnawed at me, the dread of what was to come creeping in, thick and suffocating. This wasn¡¯t over, far from it. His escape was the prelude to something far worse, a dark promise that hung over us like a blade waiting to drop.

    This was twice now. Two times since falling in with the hunters that I started slipping. I let too much of my hidden beast out for someone to see and then run. They lived to tell the tale. What if that is why these vampires came? What if they were actually looking for me? I started to build new fears in my mind. What would it mean for the Chasse family if I brought the supernatural world down on their heads as the hunt for the black-eyed monster intensified? They would be my collateral damage.

    I shook away the thoughts and focused on the present moment. I had to get Autumn back to safety.

    I was at her side in an instant, shoving the dark thoughts aside. I gripped her shoulders gently, helping her sit up. "Autumn... are you okay?" My voice trembled with the fear of losing her.

    She nodded slowly, still dazed. "Yeah... I¡¯m good. Just hit my head." She downplayed as she tried to stand on her own, but I kept a firm hold on her. "Where are they?" she asked, touching her aching head.

    "I got two of them. The other ran," I said, keeping my response short, too focused on listening to her vitals, making sure she was really alright.

    Her eyes drifted to the two dead vampires lying in the dark, damp alley. Blood pooled around their bodies, the walls and ground stained with carnage.

    "How did you...?" She struggled to piece it together, still dazed from the hit. "You killed two...?"

    "You slowed them down with the dust," I said, hoping the compliment would divert her thoughts.

    "Which way did the last one go?" Her voice had an edge, like she wanted to hunt him down.

    "Let''s just get you to your dorm," I insisted, guiding her forward. "Are you sure you''re okay?"

    "I¡¯m fine. I¡¯ve taken worse hits. It¡¯s my legs¡­ they¡¯re so tired, I can barely feel them," she admitted, stumbling as she clutched my arm to stay upright. I¡¯d never seen her show any kind of weakness like this before.

    I tightened my grip on her, practically carrying her as we moved. She directed me once we emerged from the alley, her voice growing stronger as she rested and caught her breath. The campus was just across the road, a grassy stretch and a small parking lot standing between us and safety.

    "Where am I going?" I asked, supporting her as we crossed the lot.

    "Just keep going, you¡¯ll see it in a second. There¡¯s a sign, Village Apartments," she murmured, her breath slowing.

    Finally, we reached the Student Village Apartments, the small blue sign confirming we were at the right place. By the time we got to her front door, she was regaining strength, able to stand on her own again.

    ¡°Hold on one second,¡± she said as she unlocked the door and slowly wobbled inside. ¡°Lindsey¡­ Lindsey, are you home?¡± I heard her ask as she opened doors and staggered through her dorm. Then the door opened, and the lights clicked on, ¡°Come on, my roommate isn¡¯t here.¡±

    It didn¡¯t seem like a dorm room to me, more like a small apartment. They shared a living and kitchen area, but they had separate bedrooms. It was quaint. Everything smelled clean and cozy.

    Autumn eased herself onto the large, dark couch that sectioned off the living room. As she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, I noticed the scrapes on her arms and the small cuts trailing along her hairline. She sprawled out, trying to relax, but I could see the tension in every inch of her body.

    ¡°Do you have a first aid kit?¡± I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± she murmured, still too frazzled to think clearly. ¡°It¡¯s in the bathroom, under the sink, I think.¡± She pointed weakly down a hallway. ¡°Second door on the left.¡±

    I didn¡¯t waste a second. I rushed to the bathroom and grabbed the small white box, returning to her side as quickly as possible. She was shaking, her muscles trembling with every small movement, and I could see how much effort it took for her to even adjust her position.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked, the stress tightening my voice.

    She didn¡¯t respond immediately, her brow furrowed in thought. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­¡± she finally said, but the words sounded hollow. She lifted her arm, showing me the constant tremor in her muscles. ¡°My whole body feels like this. My legs are even worse. I can barely move them.¡±

    I gently took her arm, pulling it closer so I could clean her cuts and scrapes. My hands worked quickly but carefully, tending to every small wound on her arms before moving to her head.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Let me see these,¡± I said softly, adjusting her face so I could examine the cuts along her hairline. They weren¡¯t deep, just enough to break the surface, but still, they worried me. I grabbed the small penlight from her med kit and waved it in front of her eyes, watching her pupils dilate. ¡°We should really get you to a hospital, just to make sure everything¡¯s okay,¡± I urged, the unease gnawing at me. My medical knowledge was limited, and she needed real help. Memories of Vicky talking about first aid and triage in the emergency room surfaced and assisted me through everything I did, but I¡¯m sure I still fucked it up.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, really,¡± she assured me, her voice firm despite the exhaustion. ¡°We need to stay here until someone can come to get us. This area is warded, so nothing will be able to track our scents past the barrier¡¯s perimeter.¡± She reached down to her pocket, searching for her phone. ¡°Shit¡­¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°My phone¡¯s in my jacket¡­ and it¡¯s still in the back of my car.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll call,¡± I said, reaching into my jacket. But as I fumbled through my pockets, a cold realization hit me. My phone wasn¡¯t there. I checked every pocket, but it was nowhere to be found.

    ¡°It¡¯s in my car too¡­¡± she said, frustration washing over her as she sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions. ¡°I saw it on the seat when we were back there. It must have fell out of your pocket when we were¡­¡± she trailed off, relaxing and slowly breathing as she tilted her head back.

    The memories crashed into my mind with brutal clarity, overwhelming my senses. I could still feel the warmth of her lips on mine, the intoxicating scent of her skin, a heady mix of adrenaline and the faintest trace of something uniquely¡­ her. The weight of her body pressed against mine was seared into my memory, every curve and contour a tactile reminder of our closeness. The hunger stirred within me, deep and primal, gnawing at the edges of my control. It wanted more. More of her warmth, her scent, her touch. The monster inside me craved it all, clawing at the barriers I¡¯d carefully constructed.

    I could hear every stuttered beat of her heart, every shallow breath she took. Her exhaustion was palpable, her energy sapped to the point where she could barely lift a finger, let alone do anything more. The monster didn¡¯t care. It whispered insidiously, urging me to give in, to take what it wanted, to drown in her essence. My heightened senses only made it worse; the way her pulse fluttered weakly under her skin, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the lingering warmth where our bodies had touched.

    I clenched my fists, forcing the thoughts away, wrestling the beast back into its cage. It thrashed against my will, its mood swings lashing out, trying to twist my thoughts and desires. But I couldn¡¯t let it win. Not now. Not when she was so vulnerable, so fragile. She needed care, not the monster lurking beneath the surface, eager to devour everything it touched. I shook my head, dispelling the images, leashing the creature within, determined to protect her from it. From me¡­ no matter the cost.

    ¡°What are we gonna do?¡± I asked quickly.

    ¡°Stay here¡­ until the sun comes up. That way, the last vampire won¡¯t be able to find us. Then in the morning, we¡¯ll get back to my car and head home,¡± she thought aloud.

    He wouldn¡¯t be looking. I saw in his eyes what he planned on doing, and that was running. He looked like he never wanted to meet me again after seeing what I did to his friends, in mere seconds. I prayed I was right.

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s going to be so worried¡­¡± she sighed. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they showed up here looking for me.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully, they will,¡± I wished. Then we could get her looked at properly.

    ¡°I¡¯m so exhausted,¡± she said, her voice sounded raspy and dry.

    I was out of the kitchen with a cup of water before she even opened her eyes again.

    ¡°Drink this¡­¡± I handed her the glass.

    She leaned forward and grabbed the glass with two shaky hands. She downed it in seconds.

    She was shaking her head, ¡°We should have never of made it out of that alley¡­¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°The vampires, there were three of them. We weren¡¯t prepared. They should have killed us. If they wanted to, they could have killed us before we even had time to use the dust.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. We made it,¡± I said.

    She ignored my statement, ¡°And you killed two of them¡­ it¡¯s crazy,¡± she said in disbelief. ¡°Frank isn¡¯t going to believe this,¡± she chuckled weakly. ¡°Neither is my dad¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that hard to believe, is it? You weakened them with the dust¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but it shouldn¡¯t have affected them to the point of not defending themselves. It should have only dampened their senses, kept them back, not take their strength completely.¡± She looked inquisitive, ¡°How did you get both? I saw you go for the first one, but that¡¯s all I remember.¡±

    I thought quickly about how I could explain it away, ¡°I got the first one and then right as the other pushed you across the alley, I ran up to him. I guess he thought the other was coming for me¡­ so his full attention was on you.¡±

    She looked like she was accepting this answer, ¡°But what was the other one doing? Why wasn¡¯t he attacking?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know; maybe he saw that we were hunters, and we got lucky with the first two, so he didn¡¯t want to take his chances.¡±

    She shook her head again, ¡°Even if they knew beforehand¡­ that wouldn¡¯t have stopped them. It doesn¡¯t make sense. It almost seemed like¡­¡± she tried to find the words, ¡°like they were hesitating.

    They were. They sensed something in me wasn¡¯t human and they were wary.

    ¡°Let¡¯s worry about it later. You need to rest, and if we¡¯re not going anywhere, then we should try and get some sleep. We just sprinted over a mile to get here and fought for our lives out there. My whole body hurts,¡± I lied.

    She grinned, ¡°I haven¡¯t run that hard since we fought that howler last year.¡± She smiled as she relived the memory.

    ¡°Howler?¡± I asked. I hadn¡¯t come across that in my reading yet.

    ¡°Kind of like werewolves, except they only feed on the dead, and they don¡¯t live in packs. They¡¯re gross; they look half dead themselves,¡± she added.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you have to run?¡± I asked through my theatrical breathing.

    ¡°It knocked Frank on his ass,¡± she smirked, ¡°and was getting away. I followed it into a clearing and took it out with my rifle. Running with all my gear on was no treat, but this,¡± she compared in her mind. ¡°I¡¯d take the howler again,¡± she concluded.

    We sat there for a few minutes. I lowered the rate of my breathing to match hers as she came down from the exhaustion.

    ¡°I need a shower,¡± she said. She slowly got up and made her way to the hallway. It took her twice as long as usual, but she was taking steady steps. She veered into her room and got some clean clothes, and then she disappeared into the bathroom. She stayed in there for about half an hour, moving carefully so as not to slip in her weakened state. I stayed on the couch, halfway from the door and her room, listening carefully for anyone at the front door. I also heard her in the shower. I never let her movements, her heartbeat, or breathing out of my focus. I already allowed her to get hurt once, I wouldn¡¯t again.

    Finally, she came back out to the living room. I tried to look busy. I was in the kitchen trying to scrub the small speckles of blood that had splashed my hands when I gutted the one vampire. She wore sweatpants that had been chopped down into a pair of tiny sleeping shorts, and a very thin tank top.

    ¡°I think Sarah may have some of her boyfriend¡¯s clothes in her room. I can get you some if you want to shower.¡±

    I actually didn¡¯t want to. I tried to stay ready just in case. But I knew we were protected by the warding at the moment, and it would be what a normal person would probably do.

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I agreed. I¡¯d just make it quick.

    She handed me a change of clothes and a towel, her movements slow and exhausted. I took them with a nod of thanks, though my mind was barely there. Every fiber of my being was focused on her; on the steady, but too-fast rhythm of her heartbeat, the shallow breaths she took, the slight tremor in her hands. It was hard to think about anything else, hard to do anything but monitor her, even as I closed myself in her bathroom and turned on the shower.

    The sound of the water filled the small space, but it wasn¡¯t enough to drown out the worry gnawing at me. I could still hear her moving around outside, each tiny noise a beacon that I couldn¡¯t ignore. I should have been scrubbing away the blood and grime, letting the hot water wash it all down the drain, but my mind wouldn¡¯t let me. Instead, I stood there, staring at my reflection in the mirror, the steam from the shower beginning to fog the glass.

    With a slow, deliberate motion, I let my eyes go black, letting the darkness swallow the color, revealing the monster lurking beneath the surface. It was always there, just beneath my skin, waiting for the slightest opportunity to break free. I stared into those blackened eyes, loathing what I saw. ¡°What did you do?¡± I whispered, the words barely audible over the hiss of the water. ¡°This is your fault. You let her get hurt.¡±

    The accusations echoed in the small room, bouncing off the tiles and sinking deep into my bones. I could have stopped it. I should have transformed the moment those vampires appeared. I could have ended all three of them in seconds, torn them apart before they even had a chance to touch her. But I hadn¡¯t. I¡¯d held back, afraid of what she might see, of what I might lose if she knew the truth. And because of that, she¡¯d been hurt. The thought made my stomach churn with disgust. I was supposed to protect her, to keep her safe from everything, including myself.

    I stepped into the shower, moving robotically, the hot water pelting my skin as it washed away the blood. But it couldn¡¯t wash away the guilt. It couldn¡¯t scrub clean the memory of her body hitting that dumpster, of the blood trailing down her face. I should have been stronger, should have done whatever it took to keep her from harm, even if it meant revealing the truth.

    And now, there was another survivor out there. A vampire who had seen my face, who had seen me with Autumn. He knew I was trying to protect her, knew there was something different about me. If he made it back to his kind, he would surely tell them everything. And what then? Would they come after her? After the Chasses? The thought of them being targeted because of me, because of my failure, was unbearable.

    I clenched my fists, leaning my head against the cool tiles, letting the water cascade over me. I had to hope that he would flee, that the fear of what he saw would keep him from coming back. But hope wasn¡¯t enough. I had to be ready for whatever came next, had to protect them all, no matter the cost.

    But as I stood there, the steam swirled around me, the monster within roiled. Its rage and hunger clawing at my insides. It wanted out. It wanted blood, retribution for the harm done to Autumn. But I couldn¡¯t let it loose. Not yet. Not when so much was at stake. I had to keep it caged, no matter how much it tore at me from the inside. I had to remember the ultimate goal. I was looking for answers, and if I revealed myself, it would all be over. I was still on the path to finding out what I was, but I was¡­ veering. I never admitted it, but I had already begun to veer onto a new path. What was more important to me? Discovery and the truth of what I was¡­ or friends? This girl and her family that I was forming some kind of connection with¡­ was starting to overtake my original desire to find out the truth, and even the desire to be killed and leave this life behind. I was starting to want to carry on, as long as it was with them.

    The shower did nothing to calm my thoughts, did nothing to ease the tension coiled in my muscles. I had to get back out there, had to make sure she was okay, had to keep her safe. But the guilt and anger were still there, festering just beneath the surface, a constant reminder of what I was, and the lies I was living.

    Once the shower was over, I pulled on the new clothes she¡¯d given me. They fit surprisingly well¡ªseems Lindsey¡¯s boyfriend and I shared a similar build. I emerged from the bathroom, feeling a strange mix of relief and frustration. Autumn was busy in the kitchen, putting away food, her movements slow and deliberate. A stack of pillows and blankets sat on the couch, clearly meant for me.

    ¡°You can have whatever you want, just make yourself at home,¡± she said, her voice tired but warm. ¡°I¡¯m going to lay down. I can barely stand as it is. I got you some stuff to sleep on. I hope you¡¯ll be comfortable.¡± She offered the couch with a half-hearted smile, clearly torn. Her gaze lingered on me, as if she were battling with her instincts to keep me close versus the practical reality of the situation.

    As she turned to leave, she paused and looked back at me. Her eyes, shadowed with exhaustion, locked onto mine. ¡°Sam¡­ I don¡¯t know how you did it, but¡­ you saved me tonight. You saved us. We should have died out there. No one survives a vampire attack when they¡¯re outnumbered. We barely had any weapons¡­¡± Her voice trailed off, her gaze distant as if she were trying to piece together the night¡¯s chaos. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand what happened, but thank you.¡± She leaned in, her lips brushing my cheek in a slow, tender kiss.

    The contact was electric, sending a jolt of raw desire coursing through me. My body reacted with a fervor I couldn¡¯t ignore. The monster inside me roared to life, its hunger clawing at my insides, demanding more, demanding her. I had to fight it, to lock my muscles in place, to keep my hands from reaching out, pulling her close. She was injured, vulnerable, and needed rest. I had to remind myself that she was in no state for anything beyond what was right and necessary.

    She didn¡¯t mention the intensity of what happened between us, didn¡¯t even acknowledge the heat of our previous encounter in her car. Her kiss was a gentle gesture, a fleeting acknowledgment that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Maybe she was second-guessing what happened in her back seat, unsure of what to make of it. Part of me wondered if that was better¡­ if she was reconsidering the tangled mess of emotions and desires between us. I wished it were simpler, that I could just walk away from the turmoil of my own making.

    ¡°Goodnight, Sam¡­¡± she said softly, her voice tinged with an exhaustion.

    ¡°Goodnight, Autumn. Get some rest,¡± I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, despite the storm inside me.

    She closed her door behind her, the light seeping through the cracks flickering off as the room plunged into darkness. I stood there for a moment, fighting the raging beast within, the gnawing desire for her warring with my need to keep her safe. The couch, the pillows, and the blankets were a stark reminder of the distance I had to maintain, of the self-control I had to exert. As I settled onto the couch, the night stretched before me, a battleground of emotions and restraint.

    I had to protect her. I spent the entire night sitting in a chair only feet from the front door. I didn¡¯t really need to sleep anymore, so I could stay up for days if I wanted to. Sleep was only an escape for me now. I just sat in the darkness of the quiet apartment, listening to the ambient noises that played through the night. I waited for any hint of danger.

    Autumn¡¯s breathing was the main thing in my ears, and every now and then, I¡¯d hear the squeak of her bedsprings as she tossed and turned. She never woke up throughout the night. She slept past sunrise. I could see the sun creeping through the blinds long before I heard her rustle out of bed.

    Her door creaked open, and I could hear her pass through the hall into the bathroom. I heard her turn on the sink, brush her teeth, swish with minty smelling mouthwash, and then come back out.

    ¡°Morning¡­¡± I said from the chair at the door.

    ¡°Morning,¡± she smiled. ¡°How long have you been up,¡± she asked with a pitiful look towards the couch. Her eyes going wide at the sight of the still stacked pillows and blankets.

    ¡°I never went to sleep,¡± I said.

    ¡°Are you serious? You must be exhausted¡­¡± she said in apology.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep. It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Did you sit by the door all night?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I answered honestly.

    She didn¡¯t say anything for a few seconds as she realized I was out there protecting her all night. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    I just smiled back at her and nodded, not sure what else to say.

    She kept her distance, standing across the living room as we talked. I wondered if what happened had put a halt to everything between us. My insides ached for that to not be accurate, but I went numb and made myself believe that was the right thing to do. I couldn¡¯t keep her safe if I was around her like that. The immortals that were after me would come for her. They¡¯d come for all of them.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s your plan?¡± I asked.

    She spoke with purpose, ¡°Get back to my car. We need to call my parents, they¡¯re probably worried sick,¡± she shook her head. ¡°Once we get there, we¡¯ll make our way back. We should be fine since the sun is up, but we¡¯ll take a long way home, through the wards across town.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± I agreed, ready to take her lead.

    She went back into her room for a minute to change. She came back out in jeans and a zip-up sweater. She had all of our bloodied clothes in a plastic bag.

    ¡°Don¡¯t want to leave these here, Lindsey would start asking questions. Better to avoid that.¡±

    There were no signs of the struggle anywhere on the path back to her car. It was like it never happened. There were a few wisps of ash floating across the alley where I had murdered those two vampires. The sun must have just finished boiling them from the inside out.

    After a mostly silent walk back to the parking garage, we got inside the small black car, which was still parked on the second level of the parking garage. Autumn seemed stuck in her own head the whole walk back, probably reliving the previous night¡¯s events.

    She reached back and grabbed her black jacket off the floor, still where she had dropped it in our heated moment. She grabbed for it, quickly glancing at me. Her cheeks went red for a moment as she searched her pockets for the cell phone. Mine was just as Autumn had remembered, sitting on the back seat. I grabbed it and looked at all the notifications.

    Carter, Eleanor, and most of the other Chasses had called, texted, and recorded messages on both our phones. They were all frantic, stress oozing from every word in their urges for us to call them back. They begged for us to answer them, to let them know that we were safe. More specifically, Autumn.

    Autumn sped through the light traffic of the early morning, passing through specific locations only known to her family to camouflage and hide their trail. Losing anything that could potentially be tracking us. That part still stumped me though. Warding had been a lesson I had learned but just in practice. I hadn¡¯t yet learned the specifics or the ¡°why¡± it worked yet.

    She called her parents as soon as she could fumble a call through as she raced around town on her way back. They answered after the first ring, probably sitting up all night worried about the safety of their only child.

    ¡°Autumn?¡± Eleanor¡¯s voice cut through the phone, frantic and trembling with concern.

    ¡°Mom, I¡¯m okay,¡± Autumn tried to reassure her, though the urgency in her mother¡¯s voice made it hard to speak above the avalanche of questions. ¡°I¡¯m safe. Everything¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Where are you? What happened? Are you hurt?¡± Eleanor¡¯s questions came in rapid-fire, her worry palpable even through the static of the call.

    ¡°Mom, just hold on a second,¡± Autumn pleaded, her own anxiety rising as she struggled to keep her voice calm. She could hear the desperation in her mother¡¯s tone, and it only made her more fearful. ¡°We¡¯re almost home now. I promise, I¡¯ll explain everything when we get there.¡±

    Eleanor¡¯s questions tapered off, replaced by a muffled, strained silence, the weight of her concern hanging heavy in the air. Autumn¡¯s heart ached with the need to ease her mother¡¯s fears, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to explain the full extent of the night¡¯s events over the phone. She glanced at me, her eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and dread, knowing that Eleanor¡¯s worst fears were far from over.

    We pulled in a few minutes later, parked on the street where the car usually rested, and then bounded through the yard to the front door. Autumn was rushing like we were still running from something. I think she was more shook from what had happened than I realized. Autumn wanted to see her family again after the attack. She kept saying that we shouldn¡¯t have survived the attack. She noted that hunters don¡¯t win in outnumbered scenarios. She must have been expecting to die as soon as she grasped our situation in the parking garage. I started to realize this was a reunion she thought she would never have.

    Autumn burst through the door and flew inside. Her family swarmed her in a blurring frenzy.

    Carter grabbed her in an intense embrace, ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Clara asked, sounding tired. They all did.

    They all paid close attention to her, noticing her cuts and scrapes along her head and arms.

    ¡°We got attacked last night¡­ vampires.¡± She was getting slightly emotional from the happiness of being back, safe with her family.

    ¡°Vampires attacked you?¡± Carter was angry. ¡°Fuck! I knew we shouldn¡¯t have let you go into town last night. How many?¡±

    ¡°Three¡­¡± Autumn answered.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Wayland spoke up.

    I was still in the door frame, trying to give them some room for their tearful reunion. I could only imagine the pain and fear I would feel as a parent if I thought anything had happened to little Caydee. Even that slight notion twisted the monster inside. It settled quickly though as I brushed off the stray thought.

    Autumn looked over to me in the opening, ¡°Sam saved us.¡±

    They all looked perplexed, yet instantly hungry for more answers and explanations.

    Autumn¡¯s recount was spotty and short, but it got the point across. ¡°They came out of nowhere,¡± she said, her voice steady but strained. ¡°Ambushed us in a parking garage near the coffee shop by the college. I managed to throw a packet of silver dust between us, creating a barrier that slowed them down. We took off running, pushing through the city for over a mile, but I couldn¡¯t keep up that pace for long. They closed in on us, trapped us in an alley. Two on one side, one behind. I got another packet of silver dust out before they attacked. Sam dove forward, driving his silver blade into one of their heads. I was hit from behind, thrown into a dumpster. That¡¯s when I blacked out.¡±

    Her eyes, full of gratitude, met mine with an intensity that made me question my thoughts of distance myself from her. ¡°When I came to, Sam was beside me, helping me to my feet. Two of the vampires were dead, and the third had disappeared.¡±

    They all turned to face me as I stood in the doorway. Eleanor was the first to move, crossing the room with urgency. Without a word, she enveloped me in a tight, heartfelt embrace. Her arms, strong and reassuring, held me for what felt like an eternity. The silence between us spoke volumes of her relief and gratitude.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

    Carter followed closely behind. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, his expression one of deep appreciation. ¡°Sam, you have no idea how much this means to us. You saved my daughter¡¯s life. We can¡¯t even begin to repay you¡­¡±

    I was at a loss for words. The enormity of their thanks settled over me, and for a few seconds, I allowed myself to fully absorb the moment. This was what I had been yearning for, buried beneath the weight of countless slaughter, the monstrous shadow that had haunted me for years. I had longed for a family, for a sense of belonging. In that instant, amidst their gratitude and the unspoken bond we shared, I felt a profound sense of acceptance and connection. For the first time since that fateful night in the woods, I felt like I was truly part of something real, something that mattered.

    ¡°I just got lucky. Autumn¡¯s the real hero. If she didn¡¯t throw that particulate, they would have killed me for sure,¡± I tried to downplay the whole thing, laughing through the end of my statement.

    Autumn wasn¡¯t having that, ¡°Yeah, but you killed them¡­¡± she seemed like she had more she wanted to say. More questions that she was still trying to define before she spoke them aloud in front of everyone.

    Eleanor pulled me closer to the rest of the family, and Carter closed the front door.

    ¡°You took out two vampires by yourself¡­ no guns, no plan,¡± Frank was shocked.

    ¡°I told you he wouldn¡¯t believe it,¡± Autumn laughed through her strained and emotional voice.

    ¡°Really, Sam,¡± Carter said, ¡°that¡¯s not a usual occurrence around here. We only fight battles that we know we can win, and we always bring weapons. We always have a plan. All you had was a knife.¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I just went all out as fast as I could. As soon as the dust hit them, I went for the first one. Then, once the first was down, I turned and went for the one that attacked Autumn. It was easier than you think; any one of you would have done it if you were in my shoes.¡± I hoped and begged that they would latch onto that lie and drop it.

    ¡°Still¡­ you never cease to impress,¡± Carter patted my shoulder. ¡°Thank you, Sam.¡±

    All of the family gave Autumn multiple hugs and thanked me for protecting her. Then they tried to figure out how the vampires had found us. They all talked about the possibility of it being a coincidence, but Carter didn¡¯t believe that. Not with all that was happening in the monster world. He was going to contact Martin and see what he could find out.

    I stayed for about an hour after we returned, replaying the night¡¯s events with them and keeping a close watch on Autumn to ensure she was alright. She was utterly spent and had drifted into a deep sleep on the couch, finally looking serene and free from her usual state of alertness.

    ¡°You should stay with us tonight,¡± Carter suggested. ¡°Once the sun sets, the vampires will be back out. Until we figure out what led them to you, it¡¯s not safe.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I said, trying to sound casual as I lied. ¡°I¡¯ve been warding my apartment for weeks. Nothing should get through¡ªif I did it right,¡± I added with a half-hearted chuckle.

    ¡°If anything feels off, or if you get a weird vibe, call me immediately,¡± Carter insisted. ¡°You can come back here, or we can come to you. I can even check that warding for you, make sure it¡¯s solid.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Carter,¡± I replied, hoping to end the conversation and slip away unnoticed.

    I closed the large wooden door behind me, feeling a pang of guilt. They had been so kind, offering me a place to stay and extending their trust. If they knew the truth about me, they wouldn¡¯t be so generous.

    Mounting my motorcycle, I twisted the throttle and roared away from the warmth of their home. The engine¡¯s growl echoed my inner turmoil as I sped towards the industrial side of town. Back to the heart of the monster¡¯s den, where I could keep my secrets safe and hidden from my friends, who were too kind to the liar in their midst.

 Chapter 18 - Family

    I woke up the next day on the cold, frozen floor of the factory. The bellowing horn of a tugboat pushing a dozen barges down the Mississippi shook me from my sleep. The sun was just rising across the horizon, setting a pinkish-orange fire through the sky. The light crept through the cracks and openings of the factory, illuminating the condemned building. All the other denizens of the wild that shared my den began their day the same time I did.

    I never left the factory once I returned from Carter¡¯s house. I was too deep in thought. I paced and wandered the halls all day, and most of the night until I finally curled up on the coarse concrete floor. My mattress had been invaded by bugs and a foul smell, so I lobbed it out of a crack in the wall. No more bed.

    I let that vampire get too close. I was playing it too loose. The fear of being outed for what I was had hurt Autumn. I could¡¯ve stopped them in an instant, but I wanted to keep up the charade. I didn¡¯t want her to know what I really was. And that was what ultimately hurt her.

    I was drunk off all the kills over the last few weeks. I started to realize how complacent I was becoming. Life was good, the beast stayed fed, and I stayed in control. It didn¡¯t matter if I let him out or not, it was still satisfied with every vicious, murderous life I took. Even if it was with the silver blade, it worked. It made life too easy, and I got too careless with the Chasse family.

    It would have been my fault if anything happened to Autumn. They were all there waiting as I played human with their daughter. Carter, Eleanor, and the rest of the worried family. Angst and fear chilled their spines until we returned. Autumn was safe but damaged, and it was my fault.

    In my mind, I took a step back. I needed to reassess what I was doing. I wandered into the old, once upon a time, bathroom and found myself looking into the mirror. I looked different than I used to in the dark reflection. The urinals were still on the wall behind me, but I didn¡¯t see the same shell of a person anymore. There was light in my eyes. It was hope. It was everything that had returned to me since meeting the Chasse hunters.

    I thought of Vicky, Seth, my sisters, parents, and all the rest of my family. I saw little Caydee¡¯s face at the forefront of my mind. They were out there somewhere, living without me. I was dead to them, and they would never fully recover. Yet, I was here in the middle of St. Louis living a life like I had never vanished from the world. It was wrong. I was conflicted.

    I was always lonely since I started my trek across the country, pacing down the railroad skeleton of America. When I was jumping from town to town back then, I was lonely, but I didn¡¯t feel this guilt. I knew what I was. A monster. I had separated myself from the ones that I loved to protect them from something they¡¯d never understand. But now, I was forming a life with a different family, and I felt ashamed. I felt like I was abandoning my family on a whole new level. Like they weren¡¯t worth the truth, but the Chasses were.

    I had to figure out what to do.

    A few hours of the bleak morning had passed, the sun''s weak rays barely penetrating the thick clouds that formed low in the sky. The inside of the factory was still shrouded in shadows, a dark, decaying maze that I prowled through like a ghost. I moved silently, slipping between the hulking, rusted machines that loomed like ancient beasts, their metal carcasses long abandoned and forgotten. The air was heavy with the stench of mold and rot, the once-solid walls breached and crumbling. Vines and twisted roots had forced their way through the cracks, creeping along the floor and climbing the walls like skeletal fingers, grasping at anything in their path.

    I was a part of this ruin, a shadow among shadows, lurking unseen in the darkness of my lair. I drifted through the maze of machinery and overgrown flora, my movements slow and deliberate, as if drawn by some instinctual need to stay hidden. I was lost, not in the physical sense, but within the labyrinth of my own mind. Confusion gnawed at me, an insidious parasite feeding on my thoughts. I wandered aimlessly, unable to find a clear path forward, uncertain of what I would ultimately choose to do.

    Despite the turmoil churning inside me, there was one thought that kept resurfacing, breaking through the fog of indecision. My adopted family. The need to check on them, to ensure their safety, tugged at me. But even that was tainted with uncertainty. I lingered in the shadows, torn between the darkness within and the faint glimmer of something else; something that kept me tethered to them, no matter how far I strayed into the abyss.

    I had a missed call and voicemail from Carter. I heard it ring but I ignored it. I was too drowned in thought. I checked the voicemail, ¡°Sam, it¡¯s Carter. Hey, give me a call back when you get this. Alright, thanks. Bye.¡±

    I wondered what he wanted. He seemed calm. Maybe he was just checking in. I was already calling him back before the doubts and uncertainty of whether I should, came.

    He answered, ¡°Sam.¡±

    ¡°Hey Carter, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°I never heard anything from you after you left yesterday. Just checking in,¡± he was calm.

    I took a deep breath, running my free hand through my hair, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been here at home. Just relaxing after what happened.¡± As if I could relax on the old stone foundations that held up the crumbling abode.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± he replied. ¡°You sound like Autumn. She hasn¡¯t spent much time out of bed until this morning,¡± he lightly laughed. ¡°Also, Eleanor and I wanted to see if you¡¯d come over this afternoon.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I asked, worried about the vampire, or some other creature had found them. ¡°Did something happen?¡±

    ¡°No, nothing like that. We¡¯re having a cookout tonight. The whole family¡¯s coming, and we wanted to see if you could make it.¡± He spoke with excitement.

    ¡°You want me to come?¡± I asked. He said the whole ¡®family.¡¯

    ¡°Yea, we¡¯d love it if you could make it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to intrude if it¡¯s just family,¡± I offered just in case he was only trying to be nice.

    ¡°Sam,¡± he chose his words carefully, ¡°after everything that¡¯s happened, El and I definitely think of you as family. You¡¯ve done more for us than you realize. So yeah, we want you here.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I barely got out. I didn¡¯t know how to respond to that yet. ¡°What time?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll probably eat around 5:30, but you can come whenever you want.¡±

    It had been a while since I participated in anything like a cookout, ¡°Should I like, bring anything?¡±

    Carter laughed, ¡°No, we¡¯ve got everything already. If you want, you can bring a sixer of your favorite beer. If Frank hasn¡¯t tried it already, he¡¯ll want to.¡±

    He actually broke me out of my funk, ¡°Yeah, I will.¡±

    ¡°Okay, sounds good, Sam. I¡¯ll see you later. Text me when you get here, or just come around back.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Later,¡± I said, then hung up.

    I was actually excited. I found a vague memory coming back up. My last night as a human. But I quickly pushed it back down before the guilt followed it to the surface.

    It was about five o¡¯clock once I had made my way to their house. I stopped at a gas station to fill up my bike and pick up a six-pack of Corona. I rode with the beer wedged in between my legs and the gas tank. I dismounted the bike and lifted the drinks along with me.

    Their curved driveway had multiple cars littered along the length. It seemed that I was the last to arrive. I wanted to come earlier, but I was still conflicted. Unsure of what I should do. The last time I was with them, things were¡­ intense.

    I didn¡¯t bother knocking on the front door since I could hear the commotion around back. Plus, I could see and smell the smoke rising from the grill on their large back patio. I walked around the enormous property and appeared at the side entrance to the backyard.

    ¡°Sam,¡± I heard Frank¡¯s voice belt out. He popped up from his seat and shuffled over to the side gate.

    ¡°Hey,¡± they all greeted me happily in unison, as Frank let me pass through.

    Carter was behind the grill doing something unseen with a spatula. Wayland and Clara were in some seats in the grass watching Delilah run and play with various lawn toys near the heated lamps. I didn¡¯t see Eleanor or Autumn yet.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on,¡± I said to the group, casually.

    ¡°Good to see you, kid,¡± Frank welcomed with a hug. He was always the most personal and laid back of the family, but I knew it had a lot to do with saving Autumn''s life. He seemed happy.

    ¡°You too,¡± I answered, truthfully.

    He looked at my hand and laughed, ¡°Corona. Ah man, you really are from Texas, huh?¡± He grabbed the case from my hands, ¡°Straight from the bowels of Mexico.¡±

    He pulled two out, one for him and one for me. Then he went to a large white cooler, slammed with ice and beer, and put the last four in with the rest.

    ¡°Help yourself when you''re empty. We¡¯ve got a cornucopia of choices,¡± he joked, gesturing to the stockpile of bottles.

    I gutted a sip of the beer as I walked under the covered patio. They had those big propane patio heaters with the metal umbrella looking top. There were about six of them equally spaced around the perimeter, keeping the gathering area bearable in the early winter temperatures.

    Eleanor walked out from the back door of the house with a large tray of steaks and kabobs. She saw me and hurriedly put the tray down beside the grill.

    ¡°Sam,¡± she welcomed. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you made it,¡± walking over from the grill, she pulled me in for a hug.

    Carter threw the food into the grill quickly and came around. When Eleanor let me go, he reached out and grabbed my right shoulder with one hand and shook my hand with the other.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you came. We all hoped you¡¯d make it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, me too. Looks like everyone else is here already,¡± I observed the area. ¡°How¡¯s Autumn?¡± I asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s good, a little shaken, but she¡¯d never admit it. We all are. None of us got any real sleep last night,¡± Carter said. ¡°I guess the stress of everything still weighing down on us.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just inside if you want to go in,¡± Eleanor motioned to the back door.

    I cocked my head to the side, unsure of how to react. It was like they wanted me to go talk to her. I knew it was getting to be more evident that something was happening between us, but it was strange hearing it from her parents. It sounded almost approving.

    I stepped through the back door, feeling the warmth hit me right away. After the chill outside, it was like stepping into a cozy blanket. I quickly shut the door behind me, not wanting to let too much of the heat escape. When I turned around, I saw her, busy with something in the cabinet, completely unaware that I¡¯d walked in.

    ¡°How¡¯re you feeling?¡± I asked, trying not to startle her.

    Autumn turned around, clearly surprised to see me. Her eyes lit up, a mix of shock and happiness. She was holding a stack of paper plates, a bowl, and some plastic silverware, but all of that seemed to slip her mind the second she realized it was me.

    ¡°You made it,¡± she said, a big smile spreading across her face.

    ¡°Yep,¡± I replied, but before I could say anything else, she dropped everything she was holding onto the counter and hurried over to me.

    She dropped everything from her hands and closed the gap between us quickly. As soon as she made it in front of me, she put her hands around my arms, slightly unsure, and maybe a little nervous. She brought her face to mine and kissed me quickly.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. She didn¡¯t need to explain.

    We kissed a few more times, slowly treading the water of the new part of our relationship. All my doubts and fears, the anxiety all vanished. In that moment alone in her parents¡¯ kitchen, I was free of it all. All I felt was her, and I blocked out the rest.

    We slowly pulled apart. ¡°I was¡­ we were all worried about you,¡± she caught herself.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Are you okay?¡± I asked.

    She looked relieved at my answer, but then I saw stress enter her eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she apologized, ¡°about the other night. We haven¡¯t talked about what happened. I just kind of shut you out once we got to the dorm.¡±

    My heart jumped excitedly as I heard her words. The monster lit a fire in my chest, wanting to pick up where we left off. I took slow, deep breaths to try and calm the urges.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. It was a crazy night,¡± I smirked.

    ¡°Yeah, you could say that,¡± she agreed. ¡°But¡­ I want you to know that I don¡¯t regret it.¡± She stopped to gauge my reaction. ¡°I was just scared after everything that happened.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. You don¡¯t owe me an explanation,¡± I tried to assure her.

    ¡°But I do,¡± she urged. ¡°I¡¯ve known for a while now. About how I¡¯ve felt towards you, but I¡¯ve been too scared to do anything about it. I might have led you on for a little while.¡± She made this face like she was cringing, ¡°Maybe sent some mixed signals for a while¡­¡±

    That part started to scare me.

    ¡°I was scared that going down this road with you is a mistake. Just like it was with Patrick,¡± she explained.

    I think she hoped I would chime in, but I didn¡¯t. I was still deeply conflicted about what the right thing to do was, and here she was pouring her heart out. It only made things harder.

    ¡°We could have died so many times that night, and I wouldn¡¯t have had any more chances. I don¡¯t want to ruin our relationship,¡± she stated, ¡°but, after everything that¡¯s happened in the last few days, and with everything else; the three immortals we¡¯re dodging, getting attacked, this monster everyone¡¯s looking for¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to miss any chances.¡±

    Her words weighed heavy on me. She wanted something real from me. Something that I couldn¡¯t give her. Not unless she knew the truth. But if she knew the truth, she probably wouldn¡¯t want it anymore. I ran circles in my mind.

    ¡°I don¡¯t regret it either,¡± I said. ¡°But I think you still don¡¯t know that much about me,¡± I warned.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Her eyes softened, shocked at my sudden, more profound honesty. This was the first time I ever opened up to the fact that I was keeping things from them, and she knew it. They all did.

    ¡°I want to know more if you¡¯ll let me. I want to know it all,¡± she honestly offered. ¡°We all see how you keep us at arm¡¯s reach. Like you can¡¯t fully commit. No one wants to pry. Mom and Dad say you¡¯ll tell us whatever it is that¡¯s holding you back in your own time,¡± she said, remembering their past conversation. ¡°Just know that we see it¡­ but we still want you here. I still want you here.¡±

    I nodded at her statement, not trusting my mouth to speak.

    It was true, obviously. They didn¡¯t know where I lived, how I got around sometimes, or anything too personal about me. All they knew was what I let them see and what I told them, but they never questioned me. I was so committed to their cause that they never had any doubts about me in that sense. They just thought I kept my distance for something in my past. Maybe they thought I was a criminal or something, on the run. Plus, the silver didn¡¯t hurt me, so they knew, at least in their minds, I couldn¡¯t be a vampire or some other blight to the world.

    ¡°What could be so bad that you think you can¡¯t tell us?¡± It was a statement more than a question. ¡°If you¡¯re here, fighting alongside our family, then you¡¯re a part of the family. No matter what you might have done in your past. No matter what you''re running from.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s easy to say that, but what if you actually found out? What if it changed everything?¡± I asked. The pull that brought us together was a strange attraction; for me, it was primal, an effect of the monster and my loneliness, but for her, it was something else. The way she looked at me was like she was being lured in, like a mosquito to a bug zapper. Flocking towards something only to be killed by it. ¡°What you see now may not last. You may look at me differently at some point.¡±

    ¡°Let me be the judge of that,¡± she said. We sat in silence for a moment, and then, she tried to lighten the mood, ¡°Did you rob a bank or something? Because I don¡¯t think that would be enough for us to drive you off.¡± She started to laugh.

    A grin actually broke through. It was too funny. That would have been a much more desirable dilemma for me to have.

    ¡°Come on,¡± she said, picking up the plates and plasticware. She twisted around me to the back door.

    I stepped over to open the door for her.

    She leaned over, hands full, and quickly kissed me one more time. ¡°We can talk about it another time, whenever you¡¯re ready.¡±

    ¡°Later¡­¡± I nodded, unsure of how far I was going to go. Would I tell them the truth? I truly wasn¡¯t sure one way or the other.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± she accepted with a grin, then laughed, ¡°you¡¯re staying here tonight.¡±

    ¡°Really? How¡¯s that?¡± I asked, confused.

    ¡°Guest wing, down at the far end of the house,¡± she smirked. ¡°Dad¡¯s not going to let you leave now,¡± she gestured with her eyes to the beer in my hand. ¡°No drinking and driving. Dad¡¯s a real stickler for things like that. I guess you¡¯re our prisoner.¡± She let out a dark chuckle like a movie villain as she backed out through the door with her stack of plates.

    I was nervous, but beyond ready for the night. My selfish urges aligned impeccably with the events that were unfolding. I had no other thoughts in my mind. I had given in to my urges, wants, and needs. I was a part of a family. Something I had missed for so long. I didn¡¯t think about anything else outside of the moment. The notion that I might spill the beans was there, but I just went numb to the consequences and kept living the lie for now. It was selfish but¡­ part of me knew that this all might be ending soon. So, I was going to indulge.

    We returned outside with the plates and took two seats together at the gathering of chairs near a few patio tables. Autumn picked a beer I didn¡¯t recognize out of the cooler as we passed.

    ¡°Cheers,¡± Clara said, clinking her bottle to Autumns as she leaned back in a reclined chair.

    Shortly afterward, we had all eaten a variety of meats and vegetables, drank countless beers, and just enjoyed each other. It was just like I remembered from before, with my own family. I felt so at home with them that I didn¡¯t care to even think about abandoning my family. I was just happy to be in the moment. We were watching Frank and Carter wrestle around in the grass. I was talking with Autumn and Clara, and I guess I missed the brotherly banter that snowballed into a struggle for superiority. We all watched and laughed until they gave up.

    It was uncanny. They reminded me of myself and my brother, Seth. I missed my brother, more than I could put into words. It was hard to think about. It all seemed like some big joke the universe was playing on me. Something like; let¡¯s take this dumb asshole¡¯s whole life away, turn him into a ruthless murder machine, and then dangle this carrot right in front of his face and see how much damage he can cause in the process.

    Darkness had swept across the sky, and the patio was lit by multiple tiki torches placed around the edges of the patio foundation. Autumn was sitting on a padded wicker chair with Delilah asleep in her lap. She had exhausted herself from playing in the yard all day. The toys were still littered through the grass. Once everyone else was feeling tired enough, we retired to the inside of the large home.

    Autumn and Clara double-teamed Delilah, putting her onto the couch and under a blanket. She was out like a light. Frank, Wayland, and Carter were picking up bottles from the patio, and Eleanor and I were standing in the kitchen, opening a few bottles of red wine.

    ¡°Can you grab some glasses out of that cabinet, Sam,¡± she asked, pointing across to a cupboard above where I stood.

    I retrieved enough glasses for everyone, Eleanor opened enough bottles of wine until everyone had a drink.

    Once we all convened back together in the kitchen, Eleanor raised her glass, ¡°I¡¯m so glad everyone made it tonight. Well,¡± she looked to Frank apologetically. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Frank.¡±

    He just smiled, ¡°It¡¯s okay, El.¡± He put up a strong front to hide the emotions.

    I think I missed something.

    She continued, ¡°I¡¯m just so glad that we¡¯re all together.¡± She started getting choked up. ¡°This family is the most important thing to me and¡­ I really thought it was all going to end.¡± She looked to Autumn, actually crying now, ¡°I love you, sweetie. I¡¯m so sorry for what almost happened.¡± She tried to wipe the tears away in her long dark hair and continue. It was no use, she was done.

    Carter stepped in for her, ¡°What Eleanor wants to say is that we love you all. This family¡­ we all stick together and keep each other safe.¡± Then he looked just at me, ¡°You kept our daughter safe for us when we couldn¡¯t. We all just want you to know that you¡¯re one of us now. You¡¯re family. You can trust us because we already trust you.¡±

    I looked around to the rest of them, all nodding in agreement as they held up their glasses.

    ¡°Welcome to the family,¡± Carter meant every word. He raised his glass up and took a drink.

    Everyone mirrored his movement. So, I did too.

    Frank slugged his entire glass while everyone else was feeling more sentimental. Then he lifted it in the air and shouted, ¡°Here here!¡±

    I laughed at his enthusiasm.

    Wayland and Clara came up to me, ¡°We¡¯re glad you¡¯re with us, Sam.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I told them both. Shockingly, this meant a lot to me coming from Wayland.

    Eleanor just came up and hugged me again and spoke in my ear, ¡°I can never repay you.¡±

    I just smiled and tried to make her feel better, ¡°You never have to. I¡¯ll do anything to protect you guys if the time comes.¡± I felt a pain inside as soon as I said the words.

    My words really seemed to have meant a great deal to her. She just smiled and hugged me again, ¡°Thank you. We¡¯ve lost a lot in this life, and I can¡¯t even bear the thought of something happening again.¡±

    Frank rushed up quickly, ¡°Welcome to the family, bud. It¡¯s gonna be fun.¡± He slapped the shit out of my back and hugged me roughly. He squeezed his big arms around me and lifted me off the ground a few times. It was very odd for me personally, but the old me laughed on the inside.

    He got out of there quickly after he put me down. The thick wall he built to hide behind looked like it was wasting away. I didn¡¯t know if it was for me, or the thing Eleanor apologized for. Still unsure what that was. He ventured out of the kitchen to stand near the fireplace that roared with heat.

    Everyone casually drank and talked about all manner of things. We tried to stay somewhat quiet for Delilah¡¯s sake, but the roar in the kitchen was getting louder. I had been talking to Frank about his pet fox, Randy, which I found entertaining. Apparently, it had a lot of energy and was always knocking shit off the counters and shelves. He was just laughing it up with me by the fireplace, but he got a phone call and excused himself outside.

    While everyone else was deep in conversation in the kitchen, their voices blending into a warm, familiar hum, I found myself wandering into the quiet of the living room. The space was comfortable, well-lived-in, with an air of nostalgia that seemed to cling to every piece of furniture, every trinket on the shelves. My steps were slow, almost tentative, as if I was intruding on something intimate, something personal. I couldn¡¯t help but be drawn to the walls, where a series of family photos hung in neat rows, each one capturing a moment in time, a memory frozen in place.

    I started at the beginning, with the older photos, the ones that were slightly faded and worn at the edges. They told the story of this family¡¯s past, their roots, their beginnings. There were familiar faces in those pictures, faces I had come to know and care about. There were others that I didn¡¯t recognize, children I couldn¡¯t place, but there were standouts I knew for certain the identities. My new friends in their younger days. But as I moved along the wall, studying each photograph, I noticed something that made me pause.

    There, in the middle of the line, was a photograph of a little boy. He looked to be around seven or eight years old, his smile wide and carefree, his eyes bright with the innocence of childhood. He was older than the little girl I recognized as Autumn, whose image appeared in the later photos, but there was something about him that caught my attention. His presence in these pictures felt like a quiet, yet undeniable part of this family¡¯s story, a thread woven into their past that I hadn¡¯t been aware of. I looked back on the older ones, and I could see him as a small toddler. I watched him grow in a series of photos.

    As I continued down the line, I began to notice him more and more. There he was, playing in the yard, laughing with someone who looked like a Wicklow, or sitting at a birthday table, cake smeared on his face. The more I looked, the more I realized that he wasn¡¯t just an occasional face in these photos. He was a constant, a presence that seemed integral to the family¡¯s history. And yet, no one had ever mentioned him.

    A strange feeling settled in my chest, a mix of curiosity and unease. Who was this boy? Why had no one spoken of him? The questions churned in my mind, each one more insistent than the last. I moved on to the final set of photos, the most recent ones, my eyes scanning for any sign of him. He got older, stronger like he had taken up the family business of hunting creatures in the night. But as I reached the more recent pictures, the end of the line, his presence faded away, as if he had simply disappeared from their lives.

    The silence of the living room pressed in on me as I stood there, staring at the last few photos. The boy was gone, and in his place was Autumn, growing up, her life unfolding in these images without any trace of the boy who had once been part of this family. The mystery of it gnawed at me, a puzzle piece that didn¡¯t fit, a story half-told. It was as if he had been erased, left behind in the past, a ghost lingering in the photographs but absent from their lives.

    I turned away from the wall, my mind racing, the weight of this discovery heavy on my heart. The voices from the kitchen sounded distant now, drowned out by the questions swirling in my head. Who was this boy?

    ¡°Ah, I figured you¡¯d put the pieces together,¡± Carter said, walking up beside me. He pointed towards the boy, ¡°That¡¯s Allen, our son.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you had a son?¡± I said, utterly shocked at this revelation.

    Carter looked sullen as he spoke, ¡°He passed last year.¡±

    Shit. I should have known. Why else wouldn¡¯t they talk about him.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I quickly replied.

    ¡°No, no, no, it¡¯s okay. You¡¯d have no way of knowing,¡± he brushed off. ¡°Allen went across to Europe to hunt with some of our cousins. They were tracking a pack of werewolves, a nomadic savage tribe. Only one of them made it out alive to tell what had happened. Everyone else was killed¡­¡± he took a moment.

    I was so frazzled by the story. I wasn¡¯t expecting that brutal honesty. I hoped I wasn¡¯t coming off as insensitive. ¡°I know there¡¯s nothing I can say¡­ but I am sorry.¡± Real original. You are a fucking idiot.

    ¡°Thank you, Sam,¡± he nodded. ¡°But it¡¯s in the past. We¡¯ve made our peace with it. We had to find peace so we could continue down our path. He knew what was out there, just like the rest of us. Allen was a hunter. He was strong, and he was a fighter. I know that he went down fighting those beasts. An honorable way to die.¡± He shook away a thought, ¡°I just hope it was quick.¡±

    It was raw, real, unveiled emotion. They had been through a lot. They had suffered, lost, and had to pick up the pieces to move on. They were strong, in many more ways than I realized.

    ¡°But life goes on. Allen wouldn¡¯t want us sitting around here, crying. He¡¯d thank you, Sam. For saving Autumn and saving this family from another heartache. One that I don¡¯t think we could bear.¡± He patted and gripped my shoulder tightly.

    Lights cut across a window on the front of the house. Carter and I were interrupted by the entry of an older truck into the driveway.

    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Carter said to himself, and sighed with relief.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Jane,¡± Carter replied. ¡°Frank invited her.¡±

    I just kind of looked at him, unsure of his thoughts.

    ¡°Is everyone else okay with that?¡±

    He took a second before he answered, ¡°We¡¯ve known Jane for a long time. Since we were kids actually, before the curse set in. She protects our family in her own way by maintaining the pack. She keeps them all in line, so we have less to deal with.¡± He pointed out to his brother, ¡°Frank loves her. He always has. She¡¯s stayed away for a long time, but after almost losing Autumn¡­ Frank doesn¡¯t care anymore.¡± Carter started smiling at a thought.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°My brother is¡­ rash sometimes, that¡¯s just how he¡¯s always been. Yesterday he drove out to the pack¡¯s community. Where you first met Jane. He walked straight up to her front porch and demanded her to come out. I don¡¯t think she was ready for that,¡± he laughed hard as he recounted what Frank had told him. ¡°Her pack wasn¡¯t, but they know not to hurt any of us.¡±

    ¡°Well, I guess it worked,¡± I surmised, watching them hold a distanced conversation in the shadows of the yard.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see¡­ Jane is very strong-willed. She¡¯s here now, but only because he threatened to keep coming out there until she agreed to come over. But I think she saw how serious he was. How much he wants to be with her. Even after all these years.¡±

    ¡°What are you guys talking about,¡± Clara said as she turned the corner.

    Carter pointed out the window, ¡°Frank and Jane.¡±

    ¡°She made it,¡± Clara was surprised. ¡°I really didn¡¯t think she¡¯d come.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s here?¡± Autumn said, rounding the corner behind Clara, with a full glass of wine.

    ¡°Just pulled up,¡± Carter answered. ¡°Come on,¡± he nudged Clara, ¡°let¡¯s go tell the others.¡±

    Carter and Clara paced off back towards the kitchen, while Autumn stayed with me in the living room.

    ¡°What do you think about that?¡± I asked once her dad and aunt were gone. I wanted to see what her thoughts were. Maybe it would make things easier if I decided to leave for good.

    ¡°What, Frank and Jane?¡± she asked.

    I nodded, ¡°Yeah.¡±

    She chose her words slowly, almost like she had rehearsed it before, ¡°If Frank loves her, and she loves him, then I don¡¯t think any of us should stand in their way.¡± It almost seemed like she had defended this before.

    ¡°Even if she¡¯s¡­¡± I was cut off by Autumn.

    ¡°A monster?¡± she guessed quickly, a little edge to her words from the wine.

    ¡°Not exactly human,¡± I substituted.

    She seemed to like that better than ¡®monster.¡¯

    ¡°I think,¡± she prepared her thoughts. ¡°I think that ¡®monsters¡¯ are everywhere. They walk the streets during the day and during the night. I think they can seem reasonable, have jobs, friends, even family. Or they can live in caves and roam the streets at night looking for kills.¡±

    Man¡­ she hit the nail on the head with that one.

    She reigned herself back in. ¡°I guess what I¡¯m trying to say¡­ I think that anyone can be just as human as you or me, and I think humans can be monsters just the same. It¡¯s our choices that make us who we are, not what we''re born as, or turned into.¡±

    I was quiet. I had never thought of it that way, and it surprised me. She was very wise, especially after what Carter had told me had happened to her brother. She had touched on this before but the way she said it, in this situation¡­ it just hit me differently this time.

    ¡°I like that,¡± I told her, staring in the distance through the window.

    She seemed relieved, ¡°Good. It may seem hypocritical at first glance, but we hunt monsters, not people. Jane is a person. We would never kill something that wasn¡¯t killing humans.¡±

    I wondered where I¡¯d fit in her categories. Would I be a human they could all accept, or would I be a monster they¡¯d hunt?

    The night had wound down, Wayland and Clara had scooped up little Delilah and drove off to their house just down the long, empty road. Frank and Jane disappeared without saying anything, we only saw both of their vehicles leave. None of us knew yet what that meant, but everyone seemed hopeful.

    I did hope for things to work out with them. I really liked Frank. I had only met Jane the one time, and she seemed intense, but I bet she was different with Frank. Everyone else really seemed to hope that something would happen. They all just wanted him to be happy.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Autumn nudged me as I put some clean glasses in the drying rack by the sink, ¡°I¡¯ll show you where you can sleep.¡±

    Past the living room, down a hallway that I had never ventured too far down, was a whole different section of the house I hadn¡¯t been inside. Everything was clean, organized, and in place.

    ¡°Mom keeps this side ready if we have visitors.¡± Autumn flicked lights on to the vast space as we went deeper.

    It seemed like a whole other house. Their guest wing looked like a guest house on the inside. There was a living room, a small kitchen, two bedrooms, and a separate bathroom down a short hallway of their own.

    ¡°Wow,¡± was all I could say.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s pretty big. No one really comes over to this side unless we¡¯re getting it ready for people.¡±

    ¡°Smells clean,¡± I noted the fresh smell of some kind of lemon cleaner.

    ¡°Mom and I were in here cleaning once Dad said you were coming,¡± she admitted.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do that for me,¡± I said. Then I realized, ¡°Wait¡­ so you guys were going to trick me to stay here no matter what then?¡± I was smirking as I said the words.

    ¡°It¡¯s no big deal.¡± She leaned in and kissed me again, blowing off my question with a grin. ¡°Make yourself at home. I¡¯m going to go finish cleaning up with Mom, and I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said as she left.

    I stood there, awkwardly staring at the television, feeling more than a little out of place. The guest wing was eerily quiet, almost unnervingly so, like I had stepped into a different world altogether. The whole space felt detached from the rest of the house, as if it belonged to someone else entirely. I had known they were well off, but this¡­ this was something else. It was like a separate home within the larger one, and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder why anyone would need this much space. Who was all of this for?

    After Autumn left, the silence became even more pronounced. It was the kind of quiet that pressed in on you, making you acutely aware of how alone you were. The walls must have been soundproofed because I couldn¡¯t hear a single noise from the rest of the house. No distant conversations, no footsteps, nothing. Just the heavy, still air around me.

    I glanced back at the TV, feeling foolish for not knowing how to work it. The remote was right there, but it might as well have been a foreign object. Even if I figured it out, what would I watch? Nothing seemed to matter outside the walls of this house. So, I just stood there for a while, unsure of what to do, before finally sinking down into one of the chairs, letting the silence wrap around me. This place was a complete reversal from my home in the factory. This was luxury compared to that place.

    I replayed the night over in my head, every detail, every moment. It had been a good night, better than I could¡¯ve hoped for. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I was part of something again, like I belonged to a family. The thought brought a sense of peace, a warmth that settled in my chest, but it was tinged with a faint unease. This quiet, this stillness, it felt so fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. But for now, I let myself have it, let myself believe in the comfort it offered, even if only for a little while longer.

 Chapter 19 - Staying the Night

    Everyone had gone home. The only people left in the house were Carter, Eleanor, Autumn, and me. Three Hunters locked up in a house with the very monster that they were hunting. Their specialized warding had no effect on me, their silver blades were useless, and all of their knowledge of the supernatural held no answers for them. But luckily for them, I was no threat. Instead, I was probably the best protection they could ever have.

    They came to the guest side of the house and kept insisting that I stay with them for the night, especially after the run-in that we had with the vampires. They were worried that something might happen to me with all of the different threats looming so large. So, they set me up in their guest wing, and they wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer, no matter how hard I tried to downplay.

    Autumn was anxious as we all spoke, thinking I¡¯d end up going home or something. As soon as they broke my will to resist my own urges, I just agreed. I guess I was staying the night.

    Carter and I sat on the counters of the small guest kitchen, drinking a few beers, talking about the monster. He wanted to dig in on the mystery creature and find ways to research old legends and stories that could help us learn more. He told me that he had contacts in other parts of the world that were looking into anything that could help us figure out what we were dealing with. In his mind, he knew that the answers would come. It was only a matter of time. At least that¡¯s how it usually worked, but I was no ordinary beast.

    It was funny to me how the thing he searched for was right in front of him, but I had absolutely no ideas to share. I was just as in the dark as he was. Whatever hid inside me seemed like it had been lost to the supernatural world for a long time.

    Carter was ready to call it a night, and Eleanor had just finished setting up the guest room. She paced out of the guest bedroom with a few spare sheets she didn¡¯t need. ¡°It''s all set up,¡± she said.

    ¡°I guess it is that time,¡± Carter said, finishing the last sip of his beer.

    ¡°Yeah, I could use some sleep. Today was¡­ eventful,¡± I laughed, shaking the empty beer bottle in my hand.

    ¡°Yes, it was,¡± he said, standing up. He got a little more serious for a second, ¡°We can talk more tomorrow. If you want to stick around in the morning, there are always new things to learn.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± I said. I looked to Eleanor, ¡°Thanks again for the room. A couch would have been fine.¡±

    She smiled, ¡°Please, it¡¯s nothing. If you need anything, just make yourself at home, go get something to eat, drink, watch TV, whatever you want. Make yourself at home.¡± She emphasized again, really wanting me to feel comfortable.

    I nodded and actually smiled, not the fake smile I put on, ¡°Thank you. You guys really don¡¯t have to do all of this for me.¡±

    ¡°Oh, stop, it¡¯s nothing. It¡¯s the least we can do to make sure you¡¯re safe,¡± Eleanor replied.

    ¡°Well, thank you.¡± I was undeserving of their care. If they only knew what I was, undoubtedly, they¡¯d be acting differently.

    ¡°Good night. We¡¯ll see you in the morning, Sam.¡±

    ¡°Good night,¡± I replied. Then they headed up the few steps and down the hall to the primary side of the house.

    I walked into the bedroom and flipped the light switch. The bed looked so comfortable that I walked straight to it and slid under the warm blankets. I hadn¡¯t slept like that in forever. Soft sheets on a warm, clean mattress weren¡¯t my reality. I was in heaven.

    As I lay in the dark, I thought about all they were doing for me and how much they cared about me. I felt my throat tighten, followed by my eyes watering up. I felt like I was a part of a family again. I was motionless in the dark, thankful for everything I was experiencing with the Chasses. Still, I was getting choked up about something else.

    All the things I was getting from them only reminded me of everything back home. Well, where home used to be. I remembered the late nights with Vicky, lying in bed, and talking about the family we wanted. I thought of our lives together and how much we loved each other. I remembered being with my own family and my brother. Then, I remembered that sweet little girls face that night in the house. I replayed the only memories I had of Caydee. Her small little frame, her tiny little lungs rising and falling, her quick heartbeat. I read through her little book in my mind again. This was what real pain felt like.

    For that moment, I was glad to be alone.

    <hr>

    I was lying in bed for about an hour before I heard the doorknob twist, and someone slip through the crack before closing the door silently. She was almost a ghost as she crept through the dark room. It was funny watching her try to avoid furniture that I could see so clearly with my blackened eyes.

    Autumn¡¯s heartbeat was erratic. She was nervous, excited, and all the other things you¡¯d expect from a normal human. I, on the other hand, was scared. I knew what probably lingered in Autumn¡¯s mind. But I was hesitant to do it. I was worried about what that would do to her.

    I didn¡¯t know all the answers, and I didn¡¯t know what it would mean if we got too¡­ physical. I didn¡¯t want to do anything that would hurt her.

    I said nothing as she snuck through the room and flawlessly slipped under my covers.

    ¡°Hey,¡± was all she said to announce herself as she inched under the sheets.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I whispered. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I was still nervous about it. I wanted it so bad, but I feared the consequences.

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    ¡°This,¡± she said just before her lips pressed into mine. She didn¡¯t need to talk anymore. She, and I, knew what she wanted. There wasn¡¯t room for anything else.

    As things started to heat up, my worries melted away, replaced by an intensity I hadn¡¯t felt in years. The what-ifs vanished from my mind, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of her presence, the longing I had suppressed for too long. I pulled her close, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, and then gently rolled her on top of me. Her dark hair cascaded over my face and chest, the strands soft yet slightly rough, brushing against my skin like silk laced with electricity.

    Every sense was heightened, every touch magnified. I was acutely aware of how easily I could lose control; how one wrong move could shatter her fragile frame. She was strong, determined, but she was still human, still vulnerable. I had to be careful. Every movement needed to be measured; every touch deliberate. I felt the tension coil inside me, a primal force I had to keep in check.

    We moved in the darkness, our breaths mingling, our lips meeting over and over again. Our bodies speaking in a language of quiet, deliberate movements as our hands both explored each other desperately in our passionate embrace. My senses locked onto every detail; the soft rhythm of her breath, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her pulse quickened beneath my fingertips. Her heartbeat thrummed in my ears, a steady, mesmerizing rhythm that guided me, grounded me. It was as if I could feel her blood coursing through her veins, a subtle warmth against my palms, a living connection that pulsed in time with her heart. She kissed me desperately, and I fell into it, but the beast was ever present in my mind. I prayed we would slow down and not go too far.

    The experience was overwhelming, a surge of sensations I had never known before. It was everything I remembered with Vicky, but now amplified, every moment stretched out and intensified. I didn¡¯t want it to end. I was lost in the experience, drowning in the flood of new sensations. It was an entirely new way of being, a heightened reality that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Every moment with her was a reminder of what I had lost, but also of what I had found¡­ what I could lose.

    She slowly pulled back, ¡°Sam¡­ I really like you. It¡¯s more than like¡­¡± she struggled to find the words. ¡°I feel safe with you; and that is saying something in my world. I¡¯ve fought things that people don¡¯t even know exist, I¡¯ve killed creatures with ten times my own strength, but with you¡­¡± she really dug from deep within as she spoke. ¡°There is something about you that I can¡¯t explain, but I feel it.¡± Her gorgeous face strained in the dark as she tried to put her feelings into words. She trailed off, trying to think of how she wanted to continue.

    She was silent for a few minutes, kissing me again, periodically¡­ slowly. The intensity of the physical contact had slowed, which was good. My human mind wanted us to pump the brakes.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to rush this,¡± Autumn said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go too fast, but I want you to know that you mean a lot to me. This¡­ means a lot to me¡±

    ¡°You mean a lot to me too,¡± I replied. ¡°The last thing I want to do is ruin everything I have with you, and your family.¡± I meant it for more reasons than this.

    She snuggled in close to me, lying her head on my chest listening to my powerful breaths. She seemed¡­ happy. I stayed as still as possible, sensing everything about her in those late hours, holding her tightly against me. We stopped before we got too far, which eased the burden in my mind. Just to have her lying beside me was heaven, and I didn¡¯t want it to be over.

    This was different than in the back of her car. This wasn¡¯t a frenzied rush of lust and uncertainty. This was a real connection, with real emotion and vulnerability. It was the first time I had been this close with anyone in years, and I needed it to last forever. I was so comfortable that, for the first time in a long time, I didn¡¯t want to escape into sleep.

    Then, in the darkness of the night, after Autumn¡¯s mind floated into slumber, I made a decision. I felt right. This felt real. I had thought for so long that I was living a lie, but now¡­ I don¡¯t think that was totally true. I was living a half-life.

    Yes, I came to learn from them in secret through lies. It was to see if I could discover more about the beast within. But what actually happened was that I learned more about me¡­ Sam. Me¡­ I wanted to be with them; that¡¯s why I kept coming back. The human man that walked with a beast was interacting and growing with these people. I just wanted to be me again. It was complicated, for sure, but I truly thought if anyone could understand¡­ it was them. If they could accept Jane and Frank¡­ maybe, with time they¡¯d accept me, my whole life, both sides. Of course I feared the worst. Autumn might hate me, and they Chasse family could try to kill me. But I couldn¡¯t continue like this. I knew I was at a crossroads with how everything sat. I couldn¡¯t keep going without them knowing the truth. And I couldn¡¯t let this get any further and suck them deeper into the lie without coming clean. Especially Autumn. I wanted her to know the real me.

    It was decided. In the morning, when everyone was awake¡­ I¡¯d tell them everything.

    I closed my eyes and just listened to Autumn breathing. It was hypnotic and entrancing. I didn¡¯t even notice when I fell asleep. Part of me was¡­ happy.

    <hr>

    "Rise," a voice sliced through my slumber, cold and commanding. The image of the cloaked figure flooded my mind. The same figure I¡¯d seen on the night I was killed, the one that loomed atop jagged rocks in the pitch-black forest where the original monster had slaughtered me.

    I bolted upright, sweat chilling as it trickled down my face. Silence smothered the house, but the voice¡­ I knew it was real. It clung to me like a heavy fog. My ears strained for Autumn''s steady breathing beside me. She was still there, blissfully unaware of the sinister voice that had echoed through the night. She shifted unconsciously as I sat up, oblivious to the dread seeping into the room.

    The silence deepened. My eyes darted through the dark room, searching frantically for the source of the words, but there was nothing. Only the sweat and cold fear crawling over my skin made its presence known.

    ¡°Charlotte Gunderson,¡± the deep voice spoke again. A violent flash of images shot into my mind.

    I saw a woman¡­ no, women¡­ It was a party. No, it was a gathering. It was in a modern home. The lights were dim, making it even harder to see their already cloaked faces. Candles littered the edges of the room. The group of women sat in a circle smearing blood on the floor in all kinds of different patterns. I only recognized one of the shapes, the biggest one in the center of the ring. It was a pentagram. Flashes of other things ripped through me incoherently, along with deafening blows of what can only be compared to thunder. Bodies littered the floor. Women¡¯s naked figures writhing in pleasure on top of multiple different men. Then, I saw the men being cut open and killed. They were sacrificed. These women¡­ these witches were killing them and smearing the blood over themselves. I felt dark, very dark power in what I saw. One woman paced between the figures on the ground. She was the mediator. I could see her guiding hand on everything taking place with everyone on the floor. All the other women looked to her as they slit the throats of the unsuspecting men. She was Charlotte Gunderson, and they were all witches. Their faces were burned into my mind, every single one of them. Then, everything shot to black.

    My eyes ripped open, and everything flew back into focus. The room was calm and silent. There was no voice, no images. Everything was as it had been. Autumn was still there, grasping my arm tightly in her sleep, unaware of the visions that just ripped through my mind.

    You¡¯d probably think that I was confused, but I wasn¡¯t. I knew exactly why I was shown these things. I could feel the reason in the images, but I felt the command in the voice. I was being sent for her, Charlotte Gunderson, and her alone. I had no clue what was watching me, or haunting me, or whatever was happening, but I did know that it wanted only one thing. It wanted me to kill her, to kill them all.

    I would.

 Chapter 20 - The Coven

    It was morning, and I knew what to do. I could feel where to go. I saw the place inside of my mind, and I felt the push from the cloaked being directing me there.

    My old human mind tried and failed to understand. My primal side accepted it and pushed me forward. Deep in the recesses of my subconscious, where the old me lingered, I tried to process how it was happening. Ultimately, I just started moving.

    I wanted to stay there with Autumn, Carter, and Eleanor. I wanted to spend the day with them again, but I couldn¡¯t. That wasn¡¯t even an option anymore. I had a force inside of me that was literally pushing my mind to where I needed to go. All I had to do was start walking. It was like every cell in my body was moving towards the kill.

    I had forced myself back to sleep after the visions. I had to wait until morning so I could leave without raising suspicion. If I just left in the middle of the night, they¡¯d start asking questions that I didn¡¯t have the answers to. When I woke up, I noticed two things; a faint hint of sunlight crept through the blinds, and Autumn was gone. She had snuck out, back to her side of the house before her parents woke up. I was glad she did, because I couldn¡¯t have left as quickly as I needed to if she was still beside me. Plus, her family might not like the fact that we were sleeping in the same bed under their roof.

    I got my clothes back on and tried to sneak out of the house. The sun had already begun glimmering over the horizon. The world was coming back to life. As I made my way out into the living room, I saw Carter on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hands. The steam visibly rising to his face as he lightly read through a black bound bestiary.

    ¡°Morning. You¡¯re up early,¡± Carter said, surprised. He looked like he had already been up for a while. He was fully dressed.

    ¡°Yeah, I couldn¡¯t sleep anymore¡­,¡± I said, still processing the images I saw of the mass killing.

    ¡°You sound like me,¡± he chuckled.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m actually going to head out. I figure I should go back to my place, clean up and get a new change of clothes,¡± I lied as I made my way to the front door, never slowing from my mission. ¡°Can you tell Autumn and Eleanor that I¡¯ll try to be back later?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll let them know,¡± he could see the fast pace in my movements. He stood quickly to see me out of the house. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you came last night, and we¡¯re glad you could stay with us. If you ever need to crash here again, our home is your home.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t take the time to really think about what that meant to me. I kept moving, ¡°Thanks, Carter, I¡¯ll remember that.¡±

    ¡°Is everything okay?¡± He noticed the haste.

    ¡°I forgot that I had some shit I needed to do this morning, so I¡¯m kind of in a hurry. I¡¯ll be back by later, though.¡± I hoped he wouldn¡¯t question my story.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he barely got out before I stepped out of one of the front doors. ¡°Be safe.¡±

    ¡°Will do,¡± I said just as I shut the door.

    I forced myself to slow down, each step a battle against the primal urge clawing at my insides. Carter¡¯s eyes bored into me from behind the front windows, a reminder that I couldn¡¯t afford to draw suspicion. But the beast inside was restless, thrashing, demanding I move faster. I reached the motorcycle, hands trembling as I twisted the key, the engine roaring to life with a ferocity that mirrored the creature within. My pulse quickened, matching the rhythm of the engine as I yanked the throttle, tires screeching against the pavement in a desperate attempt to unleash the pent-up energy.

    The road blurred beneath me as I sped away, the distance between me and their house a fleeting memory. I could feel the monster¡¯s impatience gnawing at my resolve, pushing me to go faster, to reach my target before it was too late. When I saw the break in the trees, I didn¡¯t hesitate, jerking the handlebars to swerve off the road and into the woods. The bike tore through the underbrush, branches snapping like bones as I killed the engine, letting gravity pull me deeper into the darkness of the early morning forest.

    I was barely in control as I zigzagged between trees, the forest closing in around me like the jaws of a predator. There was no time to think, no room for error. I had to move. The moment the bike slowed, I bailed, feet hitting the ground in a dead sprint. The motorcycle toppled over somewhere behind me, but I didn¡¯t care. I didn¡¯t need it. I couldn¡¯t stop, couldn¡¯t slow down. The beast inside was relentless, driving me forward with a single, all-consuming need.

    It didn¡¯t take long until I was in the dark caverns below the city. I had to stay underground as much as possible since it was early morning and broad daylight. I had on my old jacket and hood that would now reek of the city¡¯s underbelly. However, a part of my mind knew they might not make it out of where I was going. They¡¯d probably be covered in blood.

    The timing of it all wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was doable. I never had a single doubt about what I was doing or walking into. I was on the hunt.

    I didn¡¯t need directions. I could feel where they were. The force that sent me the vision pushed me to where I needed to go. I ripped through the jagged tunnels, never stopping as I made turns, scaled sheer rock, or dropped into other parts of the subterranean voids. I could feel the pressure in my ears as I descended beneath the city. I stayed in human form for mobility, I didn¡¯t need to get hung up because of my size. I needed speed.

    About fifteen minutes below the city was all it took, and then I was out of the caverns. I crawled through a storm drain and was back in the world above. I stood about a hundred yards away from a large house. It looked like a house you saw in movies or very, very rich neighborhoods. Whoever paid for it must have spent a fortune. They were hiding in plain sight. At the top of society. There were other houses around, but this one sat apart from the rest. It was nestled in a stand of trees that was backed up to the property.

    I could feel my urges pushing me to bust in. I wanted to let the monster rip out and tear through any and every one of the witches inside. I kept getting flashes of Charlotte as she paced through the thrusting and writhing bodies on the floor, blood painting the soles of her bare feet. This only fueled the fire that drove me now. I wanted to kill.

    I stalked the perimeter, glancing through the towering walls of windows from a safe vantage point. I couldn¡¯t reveal myself until I was ready. I couldn¡¯t let any of them escape. Yet, I saw no one. I wondered how, since the house was basically made of glass. I couldn¡¯t see them.

    I found a door that was unlocked at the backside of the house. It led to a stairwell to the second level of windows that faced the trees. I guess witches didn¡¯t need to lock doors. They probably had few things to fear. I stepped in, but I didn¡¯t unleash it. I just got ready. Let my urges surface. I needed the kill more than breath itself. I could almost feel her presence. I could feel her heart beating in my mind, just waiting to be snuffed out. The deeper I went into the house, the louder it got. My ear pounding in deafening thuds as the monster beat on its cage.

    I pushed through a door on the second floor of the stairwell. I came into a long hall stretched with hardwood floors. All the lights were off except the one at the far end of the passageway. Someone was standing down there near a broad set of wooden doors. A woman. She glanced my way but saw nothing in the shadows.  She stepped through the door, seemingly unalerted or scared of my presence. I could feel that it was where I needed to go. I continued down the hall slowly. The pressure of my other side built and expanded beneath the surface. All it needed was the command to break free and kill. I pulled open one of the doors and stepped into the room. There were no windows in this room. It was cut off from view, unlike the rest of the modern house. This room had secrets, and it was supposed to stay that way. Once inside, I realized it was the room from my vision. It was precisely the same.

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    Men laid motionless in pools of blood. Nude women lay all around them, licking blood from each other¡¯s bodies while having sex in the sea of red. There were nine of them. They were all covered in crimson stain, writhing together in pleasure. They looked young, like they were in their late twenties or early thirties. They looked healthy from afar, but all shared the same twisted face upon closer examination. It was¡­ evil. It was corruption.

    No one noticed me. They were too drunk from whatever was happening in that room. I saw quickly that I was too late to do anything about the men they butchered. But I would make sure they never did it again.

    It was only seconds that I stood there before one of them looked up and noticed the large, out of place, figure. Once they saw me, watching from behind my dark hood, they knew I didn¡¯t belong. The women all looked to me with angry distorted faces. They hissed between their teeth like cats. It was unnatural. One of them, a blonde, was cursing me from the ground. She laid between two dead men, screaming at me in a language that I didn¡¯t recognize. They didn¡¯t know who was intruding on their coven, but they didn¡¯t waste any time dealing with me.

    One of them leaped from a body and flew towards me from across the room. She rushed through the air like a ghost before she appeared in front of me, ready to strike with a wickedly curved blade. Her eyes were wild and confident. It seemed like the same blade they used in the slaughter all around as it was coated in blood already.

    A guttural, inhuman roar tore from my throat as my newly sprouted talons slashed through the air, tearing into her flesh. The sound of rending skin and shattering bone filled the room as my claws ripped across her face, the force of the blow twisting her mid-air. Her scream was cut short as her body veered off course, the raw power of the strike sending her careening into the wall with a sickening crunch. She hit the ground in a twisted heap, the remnants of her face a gory mess of blood, muscle, and shattered bone. Her hands clawed desperately at the ruined remains, her screams now a high-pitched wail of agony that echoed off the walls, mingling with the scent of copper and fear.

    Everything blurred into chaos. The change ripped through me like a wildfire, bones snapping, muscles tearing, skin stretching as I transformed into something monstrous, towering over the witches. I was an unstoppable force, driven by a singular, savage desire¡­ to destroy.

    I lunged at them, a blur of feral speed and brutal strength. My claws sliced through flesh and bone with terrifying ease, the sound of snapping spines and tearing sinew filling the air. Bodies crumpled beneath my onslaught, limbs torn free from their sockets, torsos ripped open to expose the raw, glistening organs within. I moved through them like a hurricane of death, each strike more vicious than the last. Bones shattered like glass, jagged shards piercing through skin as I carved my way through the coven. Blood sprayed in thick, hot jets, splattering across my darkened, transformed skin. Crimson painted the walls and floor in a grotesque canvas of carnage.

    The room became a slaughterhouse, every surface slick with blood that pooled and rose with each life I extinguished. The air was hot, stifling, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the raw stench of death. Limbs, heads, and jagged chunks of flesh were flung in every direction, the walls painted with the splatter of their obliteration. It wasn¡¯t just a massacre¡­ it was brutal, total annihilation.

    The bloodlust consumed me, searing through my veins like fire, driving me to greater heights of savagery. My skin buzzed with a fevered heat, electrified by the carnage as I tore through the last of them, my body drenched in the blood of my victims. But even as the final witch fell, her body crumpling in a heap of torn flesh and shattered bones, the hunger inside me roared. The destruction wasn¡¯t enough. It would never be enough. Not until I ended her¡­ Charlotte Gunderson.

    When there were no more beating hearts around me, I heard fleeting footsteps racing down an exterior passageway. My inhuman ears traced their movements in my mind. I could feel the beating of their steps in my skin. I knew¡­ Charlotte was running.

    I felt her heart beating, frantic and terrified, as I turned and barreled through the building, ripping through walls and furniture like they were nothing. The door splintered into pieces as I crashed through it, my massive body colliding with the wood and sending it flying off its hinges. There she was, just down the hall, running for her life. Her scream echoed through the narrow space, a cry of pure, unfiltered terror. I could almost taste her fear, the same paralyzing dread she had inflicted on so many others. I wanted her to feel every ounce of it. To know what it was to be helpless, to know she was going to die.

    I charged down the darkened hallway like a beast unchained, my bulk carving deep gouges into the walls as I tore through the narrow space. Plaster and wood exploded in my wake, debris raining down as I closed the distance between us. She was so close to the exit, fingertips brushing the doorframe, but it didn¡¯t matter. I was on her in an instant, my inhuman hand closing around her with a crushing grip that sent bones splintering beneath my fingers.

    The metal door ahead of us didn¡¯t stand a chance. I slammed through it with her in tow, the frame screeching as it was torn from the wall, twisted and mangled in my wake. There was no pause, no hesitation. I leaped from the balcony access, dragging her with me, her body whipping through the air like a ragdoll as we crashed into the sparse trees below. Branches snapped and shattered under our weight, the ground quaking as we landed in a tangle of broken limbs and crushed foliage.

    Her struggles were pitiful against the raw power coursing through me, her screams strangled by the monstrous grip around her. I dragged her deeper into the shadows. There was no escape, no salvation. Only the brutal, unrelenting destruction that awaited her at my hands.

    I wasn¡¯t too concerned about seclusion, but I still went for any cover I could find since it was daylight. The thicker trees I made it too didn¡¯t give me any worries. At the moment, I wasn¡¯t actively thinking, I was just moving, running on instinct and rage.

    I threw her scared, limp body down at the base of a tree. She smacked the protruding roots that crawled away from the trunk. She lifted her forearms in front of her like a shield, ¡°Please¡­ no. Don¡¯t kill me. Whoever sent you¡­ I can give you more¡­ I can do things¡­ I¡¯ll do anything you want.¡± Even though she didn¡¯t know what I was, she was no stranger to the monsters of this dark world. She thought she could stop the assault. She could save herself if she just gave me something I wanted.

    The beating got louder. The pounding of her heartbeat was blasting through my body like constant explosions. It was all I could feel. At that moment, I knew what I was. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to kill. It was all I could think about. I had to make the beating STOP!

    I lunged at her with savage fury, crashing into her with bone-shattering force. Her body crumpled beneath me, the few remaining solid bones snapping like twigs under my weight. There was no mercy, no restraint. I drove my fangs into her neck, sinking them deep as I plunged my talons into her back and sides, burying them. Her flesh gave way, the wet, sickening sound of muscle and sinew tearing as I crushed her body against mine. I could feel my claws puncturing her lungs, slicing through her insides until they pierced her heart. The rhythmic pounding in my head, the relentless drumbeat of my bloodlust, reached a fever pitch.

    I closed my fists around her heart, feeling its final, desperate contractions, and with a primal roar, I ripped my hands free from her chest. Blood and viscera exploded outward, the beating that had consumed me coming to an abrupt, eerie silence. She was dead, her life extinguished in my grip.

    I let the mangled corpse drop to the ground, a lifeless heap of broken bones and shredded flesh. It was over. Blood oozed and dripped from my claws, pooling at my feet as I tilted my head to the sky. The morning light barely pierced the haze of violence that surrounded me, but I forced a breath out, trying to expel the rage that had fueled the monster inside. It was done, and I desperately wanted to shed the beast, to reclaim my humanity.

    As the transformation slowly receded and my own form returned, a strange sense of completion settled over me. But there was something else, something darker, pulsing in the air around me. The same malevolent force that had driven me to Charlotte and her witches lingered, invisible yet palpable, a presence that radiated in the area for only a moment. I couldn¡¯t see it, but I knew it was there, watching.

    I stood still and basked in the power of the mysterious force. I thought I was strong, but this¡­ this was something else. It filled my whole world; it was everywhere, almost suffocating. I still didn¡¯t know what or who it was. I didn¡¯t know what I was or why I was turned into this monster. Yet, I came to a disturbing realization in those trees. Whatever was there that night, when I was killed, was the one calling the shots. The thing that gave me the name and the visions was in control. In that moment I knew¡­ when it called¡­ I had to answer.

    A shiver of fear and unease came over me. Realizations that my life was not in my own control started to crop up. What did this mean for me¡­ for the Chasse family¡­ for Autumn?

    The force faded away after a few moments. Back to whatever hidden place it came from. Then, I decided to do the same. Someone was bound to have been on the way after all the destructive crashes and chaos. It was time to go.

    I sank back into the shadows beneath the city. I walked in silence and darkness as I replayed everything in my head. I tried to understand more of what I had felt. I wanted to know more about what called out to me in the night and gave me the name. Who was it¡­ What was it?

 Chapter 21 - The Truth

    I had been in the basement of the Chasse house all afternoon. Autumn and I were doing some hand-to-hand training down on the mats. At least, that¡¯s how it started out. While no one else was down there with us, Autumn and I wrestled with each other playfully. Some of the moments we spent rolling through the mats were¡­ easily enticing. There were times we weren¡¯t doing as much training as we were trying not to tear each other¡¯s clothes off. Eleanor would come to check on us every now and then, and that kept us honest.

    We had been trying to sneak in as much physical contact as we could when no one was near us in the house; kissing, touching, grabbing. It felt like some kind of wild attraction drew us to one another. It only fueled my suspicions that it was something about the monster, its power maybe. It felt more potent than a typical attraction, but it was hard to explain. She was drawn in, but so was I.

    Autumn had left me down there for a little while to run an errand with Eleanor. I stayed down in the sub-level, cleaning guns and other weaponry that we had been using for training and the few times we had gone out on possible hunts that turned out to be nothing.

    My mind kept replaying the events surrounding the vision; the name, the surge of power, and everything that followed. It had been a moment of pure, unrestrained connection with the monster within me, a harmony so complete that it felt like we were moving as one. There were no doubts, no second-guessing, no internal battles to resist its influence. For the first time, it felt right. The power, the control all seemed to fit perfectly in that moment. But now, in the aftermath, the clarity had faded, and all that was left were worries gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

    I couldn¡¯t shake the sense that something fundamental had shifted, not just within me, but in how I viewed the world and my place in it. Before the vision came that night, I had been on the brink of telling them everything. The truth, in all its raw, painful detail. I wanted to spill every secret, to expose the darkness inside me and lay bare the struggle I had faced over the past few years. I craved honesty, a release from the burden of secrecy, and the hope that someone could understand the weight I carried. I had been ready to trust them with it all¡­ to finally talk to someone about what I¡¯d done, what I¡¯d become.

    But now, that resolve had crumbled. The vision had brought with it a torrent of new fears and uncertainties. The questions it raised about the person sending me these visions, about their identity, their intentions, and the power that had surged through me afterward left me paralyzed with doubt. Were they a threat? Was this some form of manipulation, or something even darker? The answers eluded me, but the fear they inspired was all too real.

    I found myself retreating into secrecy again, walls of silence and half-truths rising between me and the Chasse family. I wanted to protect them, but I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I was really protecting myself. Shielding the truth of what I had become, of the monster that lived within me. The thought of their reactions, their fear, or worse, their rejection, tightened the knot of anxiety in my chest. I felt that I had taken a step backwards in my mind. I had retreated to how I felt before the night of the cookout.

    But deeper than that, there was a haunting realization. For the first time, I wasn¡¯t sure if I could trust myself. The synchronicity I¡¯d felt with the monster during the vision was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. What if that was the true me? What if the monster wasn¡¯t just a curse, but a part of who I really was? The fear of what that might mean, of what I could become if I allowed it to take over completely, gnawed at me, leaving me uncertain and adrift.

    So, I kept my distance, held my tongue, and let the silence grow. The truth, once so close to being revealed, was now buried deeper than ever, hidden beneath layers of fear, doubt, and unanswered questions. The burden of it weighed heavily on me, but I wasn¡¯t sure I was ready to face what would happen if I let it go. Not now, not after everything that had happened. And so, I waited, hoping that somehow, the answers would come before the darkness consumed me completely. It wasn¡¯t right¡­ I knew that. But I would keep on lying to my friends.

    I sat and continued to clean the weapons and put them away as I weighed my options and thought about my new variables. That¡¯s when I heard the door open, feet scatter about the stairs as someone came down to meet me. I could smell her before I saw her, and I was thrilled to have her back. I wanted to continue our ¡°training¡±. However, when Autumn returned, she was different. I noticed it immediately after she sat down at the work bench. They had been gone for almost an hour, and I had begun to worry. I was the only one in the house when they were gone. Carter and Frank had been there earlier but had been called off to deal with something at a worksite. I offered to help, but they said it was nothing they couldn¡¯t handle. Everyone was wheeling and dealing, but nobody was really talking to me about what was going on. I figured it might just be family or company stuff.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked Autumn.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± she answered quickly, giving me nothing else. She barely shot a glance at me when she answered. She just went straight back to putting some of our gear away.

    Something was wrong, something she couldn¡¯t tell me about. I could read everything on her face. I could see that the look she wore was a mask, and it was barely holding on. She was scared, angry, and alone. I wondered what Eleanor had said, or where they went. Something serious had happened, but I couldn¡¯t figure anything out. I hadn¡¯t overheard anything when they were near.

    Suddenly, my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket and saw Carter¡¯s name.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Sam, I need your help. Are you guys still at the house?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s up,¡± I asked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say anything out loud, I don¡¯t want to scare El and Autumn for no reason, but I need you to meet me. Do you think you can get away from the house without them suspecting anything?¡±

    I knew I could, but I didn¡¯t want to have to lie to her, ¡°Yeah, I can.¡± She didn¡¯t even look up as I answered Carter. Maybe whatever was distracting her would help me get out and spare her from whatever it was that Carter wanted to avoid.

    ¡°I¡¯ll text you the address,¡± Carter said before he hung up.

    Before I could say anything, Autumn beat me to it. ¡°Was that my dad?¡± Her voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it that I couldn¡¯t ignore.

    I hesitated, caught between wanting to keep Carter¡¯s trust and not wanting to distance myself from Autumn. The weight of that choice pressed down on me as I met her gaze, trying to keep my expression neutral.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, you can go,¡± she said, forcing a casual tone. ¡°I know he¡¯s just trying to protect me¡­¡± But even as she spoke, I could hear the rapid thud of her heartbeat, betraying the anger simmering beneath the surface.

    What could be so serious that Carter felt the need to shut out his own family? The thought gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the present.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked, reluctant to leave her like this.

    She nodded, a tight, strained smile on her lips. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s fine. Mom and I just found out what¡¯s going on, but he wants to keep it under wraps until he¡¯s got all the facts straight. He won¡¯t bring us in yet¡­¡±

    Everything about the situation felt off, like I was leaving something unfinished. But Carter had already sent the address, and the urgency of ¡°A.S.A.P¡± was hard to ignore.

    I gave Autumn one last look, but she just waved me off, her smile never reaching her eyes. With a heavy heart, I turned and headed out, the unease lingering long after I¡¯d left her behind.

    I leaned down to kiss her, but the moment didn¡¯t feel right. There was a tension in the air, a heaviness that made the simple gesture feel loaded with unspoken fears. I could sense the unease radiating from her, like an invisible barrier between us. My mind kept circling back to the situation at hand, the way her eyes flickered with a worry she couldn¡¯t quite hide. Whatever Carter had called me for, it seemed to be weighing on her more than she was letting on. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something serious was brewing¡­ something that might involve a family member, or maybe even a Wicklow.

    The thought gnawed at me as I made my way outside, the cool air doing little to calm my nerves. I mounted my bike, the engine growling to life beneath me, and sped off down the curved drive. The wind whipped against my face as I headed towards the location Carter had sent, my thoughts racing even faster.

    The destination was familiar. It was their main administrative building, a looming four-story structure that housed a labyrinth of offices, with a modest warehouse tucked away in the back. I¡¯d been there a few times before, but tonight, the building seemed to take on a different aura, as if the very walls were bracing for something ominous. The sleek exterior, usually so imposing, now seemed almost foreboding in the fading light. As I approached, the anxiety that had been simmering beneath the surface flared up, the unknown pressing down on me with every mile that brought me closer to whatever awaited inside. This was the first time they showed any kind of internal familial strife. It was odd being caught in it as an outsider, no matter how close I felt to them.

    When I pulled up, I saw a few vehicles; Carter¡¯s suburban, Frank¡¯s truck, and another one I thought I recognized but couldn¡¯t remember the driver. I parked next to them and made my way in. I came through a side door that had been left open to the back warehouse. I rushed in, trying to get to Carter and help him with whatever was going on.

    I thought I heard people around a corner of the massive shelves packed with timber, but it looked completely black. I rounded the corner and, to my surprise, saw no one. What had I heard?

    I spotted a stairwell leading up to the higher levels of the sprawling storage facility. The door was ajar, a clear sign that someone had recently passed through. Driven by urgency, I sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, my footsteps echoing in the otherwise oppressive silence. Reaching the top floor, I was met by an unsettling stillness. The scent of recent activity lingered, guiding me towards the main offices.

    As I followed the scent through the labyrinth of corridors, a creeping unease settled over me. When I finally reached Carter¡¯s office, the room was a stark contrast to the usual bustling energy I had witnessed before. It was eerily empty¡­ no sign of life, no indication of recent presence. The absence of people felt almost palpable, a void that seemed to swallow the room whole.

    But it was not just the emptiness that unsettled me. There was something else, an intangible weight that pressed down on me, like a dense fog clouding my thoughts. It was so subtle I almost dismissed it, yet it clung to the edges of my awareness. The feeling was almost suffocating, a creeping sensation of claustrophobia despite the vastness of the space. The air felt thick, as if something oppressive was closing in around me, shrouding my mind in a heavy, disorienting mist.

    The room seemed to close in on me, the silence growing thicker, the shadows more oppressive. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something unseen was lurking just beyond my perception, tightening its grip with every passing second. The usual clarity of thought was obscured, leaving me in a disorienting state where even the slightest sound or movement felt amplified and menacing.

    Whatever had happened, there was no sign of anyone. I descended the stairwell to the bottom level and pushed through the warehouse door I had originally entered. When I stepped into the parking lot, I was met with an unsettling emptiness. All the cars were gone. My motorcycle was the only vehicle left, standing solitary amidst the vacant expanse. It was as if the other cars had evaporated into thin air.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± I muttered, my voice echoing with disbelief.

    My mind raced, struggling to make sense of the situation. Where had all the cars gone? How had I missed hearing or seeing them leave? The absence of movement was disorienting, amplifying my confusion. Adding to the strangeness was the abrupt shift in time; dusk had turned into full night while I was inside. The sky was now an inky black, and the city lights flickered in the distance. The rapid transition from daylight to night only heightened the disquieting sense that something was profoundly wrong. The only thing I knew was that I had to make sure Carter was okay.

    I pulled my phone out to text him. I noticed that the time was 10:27, about two and a half hours since I got off the phone with Carter. I typed out the text as fast as I could.

    ¡®Where are you? I¡¯m at the office and saw your cars, but no one is here.¡¯

    I paced the parking lot, trying to figure out what to do next as I waited for a response. It was only a few moments until my phone chirped up. I quickly read the message.

    ¡®Sam, what¡¯s going on? We waited for you, but you never showed, so we had to leave. Martin found something big! If you can make it to us, we could still use your help. We¡¯re gearing up inside a garage on the corner of Olive and 9<sup>th</sup> Street.¡¯

    I responded immediately, ¡®Sorry, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, but I¡¯m coming.¡¯

    I never heard my phone chirp or felt it buzz in my pocket as I rocketed down the streets and alleyways. I never let the bike catch a break. I had it topped out on the straights and only slowed down enough to slide around the turns. It only took a few short minutes to make it to the corner of Olive and 9<sup>th</sup> Street. It was a parking garage. I pulsed my senses as the bike roared inside the first level. I could hear the clink of metal and hardware as they geared up. The scents descended on me, revealing the full Chasse family was there, and they were not alone. Martin¡¯s blood wafted through the air as well. This had to be big.

    I parked on the bottom since I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d be coming into. I didn¡¯t want to give away their position, so I bounded into the stairwell and ripped up to the top. I exited the staircase at the top level. This time I saw my friends. Every one of the hunters of the Chasse family was there, armed to the teeth.

    I began jogging towards them, but before I could take more than a few steps, an explosive force slammed into me. The impact was like being hit by a freight train, propelling me backwards into the concrete barricade that stood between me and the long drop to the street below. The collision was brutal, and I smashed into the cement with bone-jarring force, sending a spray of shattered concrete into the air. I crumpled to the ground, actually surprised as the fragments of the barricade scattering around me.

    It all unfolded in a dizzying blur, a culmination of mounting tension that hit with such force it left me reeling. I hadn¡¯t been vigilant enough, and now, the gravity of my mistake crashed down on me¡­ and the Chasse family. How had I allowed danger to creep so close to my friends? The realization struck like a punch to the gut.

    Before I could process it fully, Martin was looming in front of me, poised to strike. The hunters, their faces hard and unwavering, had their weapons trained¡­ on me. Every single one, including Autumn. The weight of their collective gaze bore down on me, an unspoken judgment that pierced through the chaos.

    That¡¯s when I realized what was happening.

    I collapsed to my hands and knees, the cold concrete biting into my skin as I looked up. Their eyes, usually so controlled, now betrayed a flicker of fear and recognition. They knew. Somehow, they had unearthed the truth I had fought so hard to keep hidden.

    My gaze locked onto Martin¡¯s, my voice barely a whisper but laced with desperation and confusion. ¡°What is this?¡± I demanded, the words heavy with the weight of the final, crushing revelation.

    ¡°It seems you haven¡¯t been entirely honest with them, have you?¡± Martin¡¯s voice was laden with a chilling, somber gravity. ¡°Before you respond, you should understand something. If you were human, the force of that impact would have killed you before you even hit the ground. But you¡¯re not human¡­ are you, Sam?¡±

    His words pierced through the distance between us in the night. Each one a heavy blow to my already shattered world. I locked my gaze on him, my eyes reflecting a profound sadness that mirrored the turmoil inside. The anger that had been simmering now receded to a deep, weary resignation. But the anger wasn¡¯t far behind.

    The secret I had so desperately guarded had been laid bare, and with it, my fragile new life was slipping away. Carter, Eleanor, Frank, everyone who had become my second family were suddenly lost to me. And Autumn¡­ Autumn, whose presence had been a miracle to my soul in this second life, was now beyond my reach. The weight of their knowledge felt like a suffocating shroud, enveloping me in a deep and irreversible sorrow.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move, Sam,¡± Carter said with a chilling certainty as he advanced toward the standoff, his presence imposing and unyielding.

    ¡°We know the truth¡­¡± Martin¡¯s voice was cold, a statement laden with accusation.

    ¡°The truth? About what?¡± I demanded, forcing myself to confront the inevitable. I needed to hear them spell it out.

    ¡°The massacre at the Gunderson residence, for starters,¡± Martin replied tersely, his words slicing through the tension.

    ¡°How could you kill all those people?¡± Eleanor¡¯s voice cut through the air, distant but clear. Her tone wasn¡¯t just accusatory; it was a mix of genuine disbelief and deep sorrow. She struggled to reconcile the person she knew with the horrific reality before her.

    Autumn stood like a statue, her emotions concealed behind a steely facade. She held a compound bow drawn tight, the silver-tipped broadhead aimed unwaveringly at me. Her expression was a mask of detachment, revealing nothing.

    Carter closed the distance, now almost shoulder to shoulder with Martin. He glared at the knife strapped to my belt, a fierce curiosity in his eyes. ¡°What are you? How can you handle that silver blade?¡±

    I stayed silent, my mind racing through potential scenarios. I needed to figure out the best way to leave them behind. How could I provide some semblance of closure after all the damage I¡¯d caused? The realization was crushing, but unavoidable. There was no coming back from this. Even though I struggled to accept it, I knew the only option left was to leave¡­ forever.

    ¡°How about I lay it all out for you?¡± Martin''s voice was cold, carrying an inescapable finality. ¡°I was watching over Carter¡¯s house the other night. I¡¯d heard Jane was coming, and I needed to make sure she the family was safe. Intervene if necessary. I stayed hidden in the woods, keeping watch all night, even after she and Frank left.¡± His tone was unsettlingly casual, as though he reveled in the details. ¡°I¡¯ve been on edge lately, with the three immortals in the city, one of whom is my maker. Maybe that¡¯s why it took me so long to piece it together.¡± He pondered out loud.

    Every possible escape route cycled through my mind as I weighed my next move, each option fraught with the risk of causing irreparable harm to my friends. I had to act quickly, but the thought of hurting them was unbearable. My gaze drifted to Frank, standing there with a massive pump-action shotgun, his face etched with an unmistakable sadness. Unlike the others, he couldn''t mask his emotions, and his sorrow was palpable. The sight of his dejected expression made me look away, a sharp pang of guilt twisting in my chest. It was as if I had betrayed him personally, letting him down in a way that cut deeper than any physical confrontation.

    ¡°I followed you that morning,¡± Martin continued, his voice growing colder. ¡°You left in a rush, and I had to ensure you were okay. Your stress was palpable. Your heart was racing so violently I could hear it clearly, which was odd because I¡¯d never heard it race like that before. I was worried about you. So, I followed you. To my surprise I traced you all the way to that condemned factory. You live there, don¡¯t you?¡± His words were deliberate, meant for everyone to hear.

    I met his gaze but chose silence.

    ¡°Then came the truly unsettling part,¡± Martin said, his voice dripping with an ominous edge. ¡°I observed you navigating the tunnels beneath the city. I had trouble keeping pace with you. You were impossibly swift, moving with a precision that felt supernatural. I kept my distance from you but lost you for a moment. The caves down there are treacherous on the senses sometimes, even for me. When I latched onto you scent again, I emerged from the tunnels¡­ but found only devastation. That room was a slaughterhouse, and your scent was everywhere, mingled with something else. I followed that scent into the woods, hoping to find whoever had managed to escape¡­ to stop you. Instead, I discovered another mutilated body, destroyed just like the others.¡±

    His words hung heavy in the air, an inescapable truth of the destruction that had unfolded.

    ¡°What are you, Sam?¡± Carter asked. ¡°Why have you been getting in so close with us, fooling us into trusting you with our family¡­ with my daughter?¡± There was hatred in his eyes as he thought about our relationship. ¡°You¡¯ve betrayed us, Sam. So, what is it that you thought you¡¯d get from us?¡±

    I looked down at the cement shards beneath me for a second. I could only think of one thing to say.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want anything.¡±

    I stood up for the first time since Martin hit me with his surprise attack. It was time to move.

    ¡°Stay down, Sam,¡± Wayland warned as he raised his silver loaded pistol.

    I stood tall as I readied myself to bound off to the next rooftop.

    ¡°Sam, stop,¡± Martin barked as he bared his fangs and twisted into his vampiric visage, that only a few rarely saw. His rage-filled bloodshot eyes stared wildly into mine.

    He rushed me, hoping to put me on my ass again. But this time, I was aware and ready. I sidestepped and clobbered him with a fast right cross. It sent a clap across the parking garage that no one expected. It sent him skidding across the empty parking spaces. The sheer force of the blow rag dolling him in a way he probably hadn¡¯t been handled in decades.

    They were all taken by surprise at my quick and powerful response to the old vampire. That¡¯s when it happened. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was meant for me, or an accident out of the intensity of the moment. However, as soon as I struck Martin, Autumn¡¯s arrow was released. It soared silently across the space between us and found its mark. It entered my chest cavity, slicing through bone, cartilage, and tissues until it planted itself directly in my heart. It wasn¡¯t the silver, just the solid metal arrowhead that sliced its way into my major organs that hurt like a mother fucker!

    I stumbled back towards the edge of the garage just from the shock of what she had done. Everyone stopped moving and fell silent, unsure of what had just happened. Was this really how she felt about me? Was this what she wanted, me dead? I looked at all their faces, including Martin¡¯s on the ground. They were unsure in those few seconds of silence.

    It was over. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, making it clear that there was no redemption, no return from this dark precipice. I leaned back, my body teetering on the edge of the rooftop, and let myself fall into the void. I knew the fall wouldn¡¯t be fatal, but I yearned for the impact to be so devastating that it would end everything.

    As I plummeted, the world blurred into a dizzying rush of wind and distant sounds. I felt the sharp bite of the cold night air, the impending collision with the street below rushing toward me. It felt like an eternity, suspended between the sky and the concrete, until I finally hit the ground. The force of the impact jarred every bone in my body, the asphalt slamming into me with a sickening thud.

    In the split-second before my head met the pavement, I heard Eleanor''s voice. A frantic cry of my name piercing through the chaos. Her scream was abruptly drowned out by a deafening ring that filled my ears with a harsh, insistent noise that only grew louder as my head cracked against the hard surface. For only a second, the world faded into a blur of pain and disorientation, leaving only the relentless pounding of my heartbeat and the eerie silence that followed.

    Not dead.

    I narrowly evaded the hunters and Martin, their footsteps and shouts fading behind me as I sprinted toward the river. It was close, less than a mile to the east. Desperation fueled my every movement, but I staggered and stumbled deliberately, making it seem as though I was on the brink of collapse. I could feel the cold metal arrowhead still lodged in my chest, but with a grimace of pain, I yanked it out and tossed it aside, letting it clatter to the sidewalk where I had landed.

    The pain was sharp, but I had no choice. I raked my talons over my own flesh, tearing new, jagged gashes into my body. Blood flowed freely from the fresh wounds, pooling around my feet and painting a gruesome trail behind me. My intention was misdirection. I needed them to believe I was critically injured, to create the illusion that the river was my final resting place. I would submerge and never return.

    The river¡¯s edge was close, but the strategy had to be flawless. When they reached the ground level and discovered the pool of blood with no body to match, I hoped they would surmise that I had survived the fall but succumbed elsewhere. The blood trail would guide Martin¡¯s acute vampiric senses, leading him to the edge of the river, where the tracks would vanish into the swirling water.

    My escape was almost over. I had crafted a precarious illusion of death that I hoped would buy me the time I needed to vanish into the night. I left a trail of crimson along the streets and sidewalks in a very liberal fashion. If anyone saw me running and slinging blood everywhere I wasn¡¯t sure. But if they did, I would have loved to see the look on their face.

    As I approached the river, I could almost hear the frantic calls of my pursuers, their desperation mirroring my own.

    I reached the edge of the wintry Mississippi, the water churning with a relentless current. I stepped into the river, the cold bite of the water hitting me immediately. With a deep breath, I submerged myself, sinking into the darkness beneath the surface. The river''s current enveloped me, its icy grasp pulling me away from the world above, erasing any trace of my presence. Blood swirled on the surface and then vanished just moments after I did.

    As I drifted deeper into the inky depths, I let my mind wander, replaying the chaos and decisions of the past moments. The hunters, I knew, would lay low to avoid detection by the three immortals: Mercy, Phineas, and Charles. Their presence was a significant threat, but not one that worried me. The beast would soon become a distant memory to those who had witnessed its wrath. It would fade from their thoughts, as fleeting as a nightmare at dawn.

    It broke my heart in those few moments I let the pain in beneath the surface of the river. I had to let them go. I had to be the monster in the dark. I couldn''t have friends... or family, no matter how much I wanted them. Autumn, and even Frank''s faces burned in my mind''s eye. It was a twist of the knife in my gut. Deep down, I still wanted to stay. I knew it was a hope that would never come to fruition again.

    The reality of my situation settled in. This was a new beginning, a harsh return to the fundamentals of my existence. The cycle of survival and violence, of moving and killing, would start anew. Back to basics. I had to move, cage the beast, kill, move, cage the beast, and kill. I couldn¡¯t have attachments like I had thought. It would only end in betrayal and sadness.

 Chapter 22 - Disappear (Carter)

    "Martin, where the hell is he?" I shouted, the words burning with a frustration I couldn''t contain. My voice echoed down the blood-soaked streets of St. Louis, but it felt like it was getting swallowed up by the chaos around us. Every second that passed tightened the knot of anger in my chest, clouding my thoughts.

    ¡°Carter,¡± Martin said, trying to keep his own calm, ¡°we¡¯ll find him. He can¡¯t have gone far. Between the fall and that arrow, he shouldn¡¯t even be on his feet. He¡¯s hurt and desperate, scrambling for any cover he can find.¡±

    My daughter flinched at Martin¡¯s words, her discomfort mirrored in the uneasy silence that settled over us. Regret weighed heavily on all of us, gnawing at the edges of our thoughts. We had acted too hastily, driven by fear and the need for answers we still didn¡¯t have. The uncertainty of it all was suffocating. We had jumped into the confrontation without knowing what would happen. Now, one unsettling truth lingered in all our minds: the Sam we thought we knew, the one we trusted, wasn¡¯t human¡­ and now he might be dead. We had killed him¡­

    ¡°Shit,¡± Martin muttered, his voice laced with a panic that sent a chill down my spine.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Martin?¡± Eleanor asked, her concern barely masking the dread in her voice.

    ¡°He¡¯s heading for the river. If he reaches the water, I¡¯ll lose his trail. There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll be able to track him,¡± Martin replied, his voice breaking as desperation took hold. I watched in horror as his face contorted, the beast within him pushing to the surface, no longer restrained.

    In an instant, he was gone, vanishing with a speed that made him a blur. He was racing against time, against Sam, desperate to stop him before he could reach the river. I could see the guilt etched in his face before he disappeared. He felt this was on him, like he¡¯d let everything spiral out of control. But it wasn¡¯t just him. We were all to blame.

    We scrambled to follow, chasing the bloodied trail that led straight to the Mississippi. My heart pounded as we vaulted over the flood wall, stained with blood. There, on the riverbank, we found Martin. He stood alone, surrounded by a massive pool of blood right there in the stones and gravel, his shoulders heaving with the weight of what we had done. Blood squirmed all the way through the rocks, past the mud and disappeared at the water¡¯s edge.

    ¡°Martin?¡± Eleanor was afraid to ask.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone. He made it before I got here.¡± He hung his head.

    Eleanor struggled to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes, her breath hitching as she fought to keep her composure. Autumn stood utterly still, her face pale, as if she was afraid that any movement, any flicker of emotion, would shatter whatever fragile hold she had left. I could see it in her eyes. The fear of feeling anything, of letting it all crash down on her at once.

    The weight of uncertainty hung thick in the air around us, suffocating in its silence. None of us knew what to think, what any of it meant, or if he was even still alive. We were paralyzed by the unknown, our minds too clouded to grasp onto anything solid.

    So, we just stood there, on that desolate riverbank, with the river''s murmur the only sound in the stillness. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as we lingered in that moment, each of us lost in our own fears and regrets. No words were spoken, and none were needed. The silence said everything.

    After we finally tore ourselves away from the river, Martin led us to the factory¡­ Sam¡¯s home. The place loomed ahead of us like a monument to decay, its walls stained and crumbling, windows shattered and gaping. This place was forgotten to the rest of the world. It was a sprawling, desolate relic, silent and lifeless.

    Martin guided us through the maze of rusting machinery and debris, his steps deliberate as he retraced the path he had taken when he first tracked Sam here. The air inside was thick with dust, every breath a reminder of the years that had passed since this place had seen any real activity. But in one corner, hidden away from the vast emptiness, there were signs of life. It was faint, but unmistakable.

    We gathered around a small, makeshift camp. A few blankets were piled in a corner, worn and threadbare, and a handful of trinkets lay scattered across the floor. There was a broken watch, a small, weathered book, and random things that looked like broken collectibles, not something he actually used. My eyes were drawn to the clothes hanging on a line strung between two old pieces of rusted conduit at opposing ends of the room. The sight of them made my chest tighten with recognition.

    Sam¡¯s clothes. He¡¯d always dressed simply, cycling through just a few shirts, all plain and unremarkable. But they were his, and seeing them hanging there in this forgotten place brought a wave of emotions crashing over me. They swayed gently, caught in a draft that whispered through the broken walls, as if they were the last echoes of his presence, lingering in a place that had once been a refuge for him. This secret silent life¡­ I had so many questions. I wanted to know.

    One thing caught my eye, and it felt like a fist driving into my gut. There, on a makeshift nightstand, a battered old table that had been Frankenstein-ed back together, was a small picture. It wasn¡¯t tucked away or hidden, but lying face up, right out in the open, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. My breath caught in my throat when I realized what I was looking at.

    It was a picture of Autumn.

    ¡°How did he get that?¡± Clara asked, her voice tinged with curiosity, but I could hear the undercurrent of unease beneath it.

    Eleanor, with a furrowed brow, moved slowly over to the makeshift table and picked up the photo. She studied it for a moment, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned on her. ¡°This is from one of our photo albums,¡± she murmured, her voice growing softer, almost disbelieving. ¡°I remember this one... I kept it because it was so small, easy to tuck away. He must have taken it¡­¡±

    Without a word, Autumn turned and walked out of the factory. Her steps were measured, almost mechanical, as if she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. I watched her go, knowing that she wasn¡¯t just leaving the building¡ªshe was fleeing from the crushing weight of it all. She didn¡¯t want us to see her break. The mask she¡¯d been wearing, the one that held her emotions at bay, had finally cracked. And she needed to be alone when it shattered completely.

    She made her way to the cars, her back stiff with the effort of keeping everything inside. And when she got there, she didn¡¯t come back. The rest of us stood in stunned silence, feeling the void her absence left. There was still so much we didn¡¯t know. Sam was something¡­ but he was different.

    It was sometime later. After hours of searching the factory, we had all exhausted ourselves in a frenzied search. Everyone had given up and gone home, one by one. All of us disappointed with what had happened¡­ and what we had done.

    I was sitting in the kitchen with El, having a drink, trying to take the edge off after everything that transpired. Autumn was in her room. She hadn¡¯t spoken a word to anyone since we left the factory. She looked like she had poured out her tears by the car while we searched, her eyes red and puffy. She was quiet again once we found her as we left.

    ¡°He said, ¡®Nothing.¡¯ He didn¡¯t want anything from us¡­¡± I muttered to Eleanor, my voice hollow with disbelief. I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. ¡°What was he doing?¡±

    Eleanor shook her head too, the uncertainty etched deep in her eyes. ¡°Maybe he was like Martin,¡± she began, then quickly corrected herself, ¡°is like Martin.¡± She took a long, heavy drink from her glass of wine, as if it might drown out the confusion and regret swirling inside her. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice thick with the weight of hindsight. ¡°We should¡¯ve just brought him here. We could¡¯ve called Martin and Jane for backup. We could¡¯ve confronted him right here, together!¡± Her voice cracked with a mix of anger and sorrow. ¡°We could have done things so differently¡­¡±

    ¡°No, we couldn¡¯t have¡­ Did you see how strong he was? There¡¯s no way we could¡¯ve handled this here, inside. Even with Jane¡¯s help, it could¡¯ve gone so wrong.¡±

    ¡°But we could¡¯ve done something different,¡± Eleanor insisted, her voice trembling. ¡°It didn¡¯t have to end like that¡­¡± The fear that we had killed him hung heavy between us, a truth we didn¡¯t want to face but couldn¡¯t escape. It had been an accident, but that didn¡¯t make it any less real.

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    ¡°I know, sweetie, but it¡¯s too late now. We had to take him somewhere else for Wicklow¡¯s spell to work. Our warding wouldn¡¯t have allowed their power to work here.¡±

    ¡°I know, Carter¡­¡± she said, but her voice was distant, as if she was trying to push away what she already understood.

    ¡°El¡­ I saw him walk right by me. He had no idea we were even there in the warehouse. He looked right at us and didn¡¯t see a thing. If he was human, none of it would¡¯ve worked.¡± I tried to make her see the logic, tried to make sense of the senseless. But it was like trying to soothe a wound too deep to heal with words.

    I had my own regrets, gnawing at me from the inside, but we had to act. We had to know, for Autumn¡¯s sake. His connection to our daughter made everything more urgent, more dangerous. Whatever the truth was, we had to uncover it, no matter the cost. She was falling in deep with him and once Martin saw what he saw¡­ we had to act.

    Eleanor just shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ¡°I just hope Autumn¡¯s going to be okay. It¡¯s one thing to find out someone you care about isn¡¯t completely human, but it¡¯s something else entirely to think you killed them before you knew the whole truth.¡± She took another drink, her hand trembling. ¡°I just feel¡­ I feel like we lost another member of the family.¡± Tears started to silently roll down my wife¡¯s face.

    I wiped the tears away and pulled her into a hug. ¡°I know, sweetie¡­ I know.¡± My voice was barely a whisper, echoing the emptiness that had settled between us. The realization that we had done something irrevocable.

    After a short and restless sleep, it was morning again. I didn¡¯t feel like I got any rest at all. It took every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep from just lying there all day. I knew things had to be done. I stumbled out of bed and quickly realized what kind of day I was walking into. As soon as I came around the corner into the kitchen, I met Martin. He was waiting silently at the kitchen counter, in the darkness of the dead house.

    ¡°Martin,¡± I said, shocked, ¡°geez, you scared the shit out of me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for letting myself in while you slept, Carter. It couldn¡¯t wait. I have news.¡±

    ¡°What is it,¡± I asked. ¡°Did you find him?¡± I found myself hoping Sam was okay. I was worried about him, even though he had lied to us from the start.

    ¡°In a way¡­¡± Martin said vaguely. He looked hesitant before he explained. ¡°Listen, I need you to remain calm for a moment. Allow me to explain,¡± he tried preparing me for what came next. ¡°There is someone I need you to meet.¡±

    Then, a man stepped around the corner. He was taller than me but about the same build. His hair was a solid grey, almost silver. He moved and stood behind Martin so quickly, yet he never made a sound as he transitioned around the house. He was like a ghost.

    ¡°This is Charles,¡± Martin said. ¡°He is my creator.¡±

    I stood in shock and silence as I realized who was standing in my kitchen. I quickly took account in my mind how many weapons were hidden in this part of the house. What the fuck was Martin thinking to let this immortal into our home like this? I thought he knew better than this. He was supposed to protect my family.

    ¡°I know what you are thinking, son,¡± Charles spoke for the first time. His voice was calm and fluid, ¡°You have nothing to fear. It took almost the entire night to convince Martin that I needed to meet you. He protects your family as fiercely as I protect my own,¡± the elder vampire said.

    I analyzed his words, ¡°Your own?¡±

    Martin cut in, ¡°Charles has a human family too.¡± Martin looked at his old mentor, ¡°A lot has changed.¡±

    ¡°Martin was right to fear my return. As I am sure he has told you before, I wasn¡¯t always on the right side of things.¡± He patted Martin¡¯s shoulder in admiration, ¡°The last time Martin and I were in each other¡¯s company, we did not part on good terms. I thought him weak for his restraint from taking human life. I used to let my urges run wild. They ruled me. I¡¯m sad to say that my prot¨¦g¨¦ surpassed me in maturity back then. However, I do not let the beast control me anymore. I have learned from Martin¡¯s example and found the err of my ways. I am the master of my mind now. I have those, like Martin,¡± he gestured towards him, ¡°that I care very deeply for.¡±

    I found myself easing out of my rigid stance. His calming words and humble speech seemed totally sincere. He had a strange, soothing presence to him. I trusted his words to be true, but I would still never totally let my guard down.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, ¡°so why did you want to meet me?¡±

    He shifted his stance silent yet swiftly, ¡°I would like to speak with all of you. I wish to ask a few questions about the one Martin has told me about. This, Sam fellow.¡±

    ¡°Sam? What do you want to know about him?¡± I asked, confused.

    ¡°Ah, let us wait a few moments for your two ladies to join us,¡± Charles said, expectantly.

    Only about three seconds passed before Eleanor and Autumn came around the corner into the kitchen to get the coffee pot going. They¡¯d both probably be exhausted from our extensive searching last night. Not to mention just the toll of the stress of it all. They both came to a stop as they rounded the corner to see the three of us standing at the kitchen counter.

    ¡°Martin,¡± Eleanor gasped, surprised. ¡°What is it? Did you find anything?¡± She looked at Charles with a question showing obviously across her face.

    Autumn shared the same confused look as her mother, but she didn¡¯t speak.

    ¡°Um, El¡­ this is Charles,¡± I gestured towards the vampire.

    For a moment, that name meant nothing to her. Then, once she analyzed the situation and who all was present, she realized exactly who he was. She knew everything we were told about the three immortals that were in the city.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetie. I¡¯ll explain later, but he¡¯s here to help¡­ I think.¡± I looked back at the pair of vampires, unsure of their questions.

    ¡°I hope this helps you in some way. But I believe it is you who will be helping me.¡± Charles reached out to shake hands with my wife. ¡°First, I had a few questions, if that is okay with the lady of the house?¡±

    ¡°Um, sure,¡± Eleanor agreed. She was taken aback by the very, very strange turn of morning events. Charles seemed sincere, and¡­ polite.

    Charles turned to Autumn, ¡°Ah, and you must be Autumn. Martin has told me much about you.¡±

    Autumn spoke warily, ¡°Hello.¡± She shook his hand and then took a seat at our small kitchen table. Her face had an unsure look, but she had too much going on inside her mind to care. I knew she trusted my decisions, so she wasn¡¯t worried if I wasn¡¯t. She barely spoke a word.

    ¡°Charles wanted to ask us some questions about Sam,¡± I tried catching them up.

    Autumn and Eleanor had another puzzled look. I think we all did. That¡¯s when they began to explain.

    Martin started, ¡°After I left you last night, I met with Charles. We reconnected. I told him about what I found when I followed Sam, and what happened last night.¡±

    ¡°Yes, and when he told me that person was the one who killed the coven of witches, my interest was piqued.¡±

    ¡°Coven?¡± I asked. ¡°What coven?¡±

    ¡°I am one of three that was sent in search of a creature,¡± Charles explained. ¡°The others are very different and very powerful in their own ways. One of them goes by the name Mercy Lewis, and she is a witch. An ancient and very powerful witch at that. She has many followers, and branches of her coven in different places all around the world. They are highly secretive and very exclusive.¡±

    ¡°I was wrong before,¡± Martin interrupted. ¡°Sam didn¡¯t kill all of them. All the men were killed by the women. Their throats were all slit. Sacrifices for a ritual. The women were all followers of Mercy. The cuts were clean, and that was the only damage done to the men¡¯s bodies. The women, however, were slaughtered.¡±

    ¡°Now my question is, how would he have known about the coven? Do you have any clue how he found them? Or why he killed them?¡± Charles asked curiously.

    ¡°No,¡± Eleanor answered quickly, her interest piqued. ¡°This is all just as much a surprise for us.¡± She was quick to turn the questions around. ¡°What are you thinking? Do you know what, or who he was? Is¡­¡± she caught herself again.

    ¡°Ah,¡± he realized, ¡°you can tell.¡± He nodded to himself, ¡°This is most definitely not the usual circumstances for me. I usually know exactly what I am walking into when I am tasked to track someone.¡±

    ¡°Wait a second,¡± I interjected. ¡°What are we talking about? Are you saying that you think Sam was the one you were sent here for?¡± How could that have been possible? If he was the creature, how could I not have seen it?

    Charles answered truthfully, ¡°I am not certain of that yet, but I am looking at him very closely. You see, a witch¡¯s coven is a highly guarded secret. They amass their power by building numbers. The most powerful is the one at the top. Mercy Lewis is the founder and leader of this particular coven. If those below her are killed, she loses power. Witches in a strong coven like this are not easily killed. One does not just stumble upon a coven and kill them while performing a ritual like that. They are very paranoid.¡±

    ¡°There would have been spells, barriers, all sorts of illusions and enchantments to keep people away while they performed a sacrifice like they were,¡± Martin said.

    Autumn spoke up unexpectedly, ¡°How could he do that, but the Wicklow¡¯s spell worked on him last night?¡±

    She was right that it didn¡¯t make any sense. The Wicklow spell worked perfectly. He never saw us, and it slowed down his perception of time long enough for us to get out of there. Everything worked as it was supposed to.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how he did it yet, but he did. Mercy summoned Phineas, the last of our three, and I to the location once she felt what had happened to her followers. The spells and enchantments were all there. Everything was set up and still in effect. Yet someone got in.¡± Charles was very perplexed.

    I didn¡¯t understand magic all that well myself, but I knew the basic stuff I had learned in my years. Things weren¡¯t adding up.

    ¡°He¡¯s not affected by silver either,¡± I blurted out as soon as it crossed my mind.

    ¡°Yes, Martin told me this. He said he carried one of your blades on him, correct?¡± Charles asked.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Strange¡­¡± Charles was lost in thought. He actually walked out of the kitchen and into the living room as he stroked his chin.

    Autumn, Eleanor, and I all looked to Martin, he nodded towards the living room. We all followed Charles into the next room as he searched his thoughts.

    ¡°This is very strange¡­ very strange indeed.¡± He paced slowly in a circle around the perimeter of the large room. ¡°I¡¯d like to tell you all a story. It¡¯s something I experienced as a child. Before I became a vampire, of course. This will be new for even you, Martin,¡± Charles offered.

    ¡°Please,¡± I gestured towards one of the more giant sitting chairs among the couches and other seats.

    ¡°Thank you, Carter,¡± Charles smiled.

    We all took a seat and prepared to hear a story from a time long ago.

 Chapter 23 - Old Memories (Carter)

    ¡°First, I would like to let you all know where I stand with the other two in my company. I know it is a lingering thought in all of your minds. However, I am only with them as a means to locate an unruly creature. I do not have loyalty, nor do I have a relationship with either of them,¡± Charles explained. ¡°So, have no fear that they will come after you, as they will never know about your family,¡± Charles said, more to Martin. ¡°Truthfully, the only reason I still stay in contact with the Elders is to keep my ear to the ground to protect my own family,¡± Charles said.

    ¡°Elders?¡± Autumn chimed in.

    ¡°It¡¯s who sent us three here. They enlisted our help to track this creature after it had killed so many over these last few years, with little to no regard for their rules.¡±

    We all had more and more questions the more he spoke, but I knew those could wait. I wanted to hear the story he was thinking of.

    ¡°Now, where to begin¡­¡± Charles muttered, his eyes narrowing as he sifted through the hazy memories of his past. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, his ever-youthful face etched with lines of thought that told stories of years lived and battles fought. ¡°I suppose I should start with where I come from. It was a small village, a speck of life on the outskirts of what is now London. The details of those early days blur together, but the significant moments stay with you.¡±

    A shadow crossed his features as he delved into the past, his voice taking on a more somber, reflective tone. ¡°Back then, everything was made of wood. There were no metal structures, no bricks, no stone. Our village was a patchwork of wooden huts, hewn from the very forest that surrounded us. I was about fourteen when the fire happened. My father and I had ventured into the forest for a hunt when we spotted smoke curling up through the trees. Curiosity drew us closer, and what we found was a scene that anyone of the village would dread.¡±

    He paused, his gaze distant as he recalled the devastation. ¡°Our village was engulfed in flames. The fire roared with an insatiable hunger, consuming everything in its path. Men scrambled, carrying buckets of water from the river, their efforts futile against the bizarre, relentless blaze. The entire village was in chaos, with cries of fear and desperation filling the air. It felt as though the very fabric of our lives was being torn apart by the inferno.¡±

    Charles¡¯s voice dropped to a whisper, the memory still fresh with awe and disbelief. ¡°And then, out of nowhere, she appeared. She was a stunning woman, her presence as unexpected as it was otherworldly. I always thought she must have come from the depths of the forest, having seen the smoke from afar. With an air of calm authority, she raised her hands and uttered words that felt alien to my ears. Her voice carried a strange, mesmerizing cadence. In an instant, she wielded a power I had never seen before, pushing back the flames with an invisible force.¡±

    He looked around, his eyes reflecting a mix of reverence and nostalgia. ¡°It was the first time I ever witnessed magic¡­ or a witch, as we came to believe. The sight of her fighting the fire with such ease left an indelible mark on my memory.¡±

    ¡°Who was she?¡± Martin asked.

    ¡°She went by Agatha, and she was quickly praised as a hero. Nobody cared how she did it, they were just happy that our lives and our village had been spared. The villagers welcomed her as one of their own. She presented herself as a humble young woman who was raised in the woods by a mother that taught her magic. She said that her mother had died recently in their home, somewhere out in the far reaches of the forest. She said she was lonely and went out in search of a new place with new people.¡±

    He took a break for a moment. He looked like he was reliving something inside of his head as he prepared to tell us the rest of the story.

    ¡°Over the next year, she had crept in with most of the village elders and family leaders. She had secretly been teaching others to do magic in private. Only, the magic she was teaching others was not the kind she led us to believe she practiced. This was very dark magic. It was tearing people¡¯s lives apart, tearing families apart. But she was good at covering things up. She had to until she built enough power for herself. She started creating more witches under her own power. She had a coven.¡±

    A coven. Just like we had under our own noses, right in St. Louis.

    ¡°It was only a matter of time before she was in full control of the village. She took over everything, put spells on villagers, killed our livestock, performed rituals out in the forest, and all other manner of secret acts. The village folk began to worship her, eventually turning over to the dark magic themselves. They had no escape or a way to fight her. They all just succumbed to the corruption. There were only a few families that abstained from her dark craft. Those with the strongest will to resist were the only to survive.¡±

    Autumn was entranced in his story, ¡°How did you fight her?¡±

    ¡°Actually, we didn¡¯t,¡± Charles said, ashamed. ¡°We lived like that, under her rules and power. She wouldn¡¯t let us leave, and she had hexes and spells out in the woods around the village to keep others out. She was very paranoid.¡±

    Martin spoke, ¡°This is all sounding very familiar.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ it does,¡± Charles responded ominously.

    I could see now why Charles wanted to tell us this story.

    ¡°We could do nothing. We had no way to stop her. I witnessed others that tried to attack Agatha. I saw one of the men of the village burry an ax in her back one day. He tried to start a rebellion and get others to join him. It failed, for as soon as he cleaved her spine, she impaled him with a wooden spike without laying a finger on either him or the log. We had no way to kill her, so my father did everything in his power to keep our family safe. We kept our heads down and got by, day by day. We survived that way. But then¡­¡± he said,¡± then one day, a stranger came to our village. He came, and he knew exactly who he was looking for. He knew Agatha¡¯s true name, which is a very closely guarded secret amongst witches. Her true name was Maria. It turned out that she wasn¡¯t from the forest. That was obviously a lie like everything else. She had been alive for a very long time before she ever stumbled into our village and set it ablaze. Even stranger, there had been enchantments put on the land to keep out all kinds of creatures, warlocks, and rival covens. We were meant to be completely isolated until she was ready to move the coven. Once they were strong enough. Yet, he walked right into town, uninhibited by any of the magic.¡± He halted his story before speaking again, ¡°Just as Sam wasn¡¯t affected by the silver, your warding, or whatever preventive measures the coven had in place.¡±

    We all nodded, adding more and more to the list of unanswered questions about our missing friend¡­ acquaintance¡­ whatever he was now.

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    ¡°This stranger asked dangerous questions, putting the servants of the witches on edge. He knew Maria was her real name. None of them knew what to do. Even her own servants thought they¡¯d be killed just for hearing it.¡±

    ¡°So, what happened?¡± Martin asked eagerly.

    ¡°It was the first night the stranger was there. I waited up all night in my bed, unable to sleep. I knew as soon as night fell that the witches would descend on the poor man, who somehow wandered along into the village. I was terrified of the sounds. I knew they¡¯d come. I heard them every night the witches descended on someone; chanting, screaming, running, killing. So, I tried to cover my ears as the commotion began. But what I heard that night was like nothing that had happened before. At first, I heard the chanting begin, heard the footsteps circling outside, trampling through the muddied paths around our homes, and then I heard the screaming start. However, the screaming wasn¡¯t of the stranger¡­ it was of the witches. The voices of villagers I recognized, that had turned to Maria¡¯s power, were terrified. Thunderous crashes shook the walls of the home we lived in. My father had us all huddled under a large table,¡± Charles stopped for a moment, thinking about his father. ¡°Vicious snarls roared outside, and the screaming of the corrupt villagers pierced my ears no matter how hard I covered them. I¡¯ve never forgotten those screams. The next morning, when we finally dared to leave our hiding place to see if we were safe, we found the streets littered with bodies. The witches and all the villagers that worshiped them were dead.¡±

    ¡°As we combed through the streets, looking to see who all fell victim in the attack, my father and I saw the stranger that morning. He was walking out of town, splattered with blood from head to toe. His hands were slick with the life of those on the ground. It looked like he had plunged his hands into buckets of blood.¡±

    ¡°So, did you ever find out what he was? Did you ever hear any other stories about it?¡± Eleanor asked.

    Charles shook his head, ¡°No, that was the first and only time I¡¯ve heard of anything like this. Until now¡­¡±

    We spent the entire morning engrossed in discussions with Charles about Sam. The conversation was intense and exhaustive, weaving through every possible angle of Sam¡¯s situation. To ensure everyone was on the same page, I decided to call Frank and Wayland over, pulling them into the loop. Clara, however, stayed behind with Delilah, choosing to remain at home for safety¡¯s sake.

    Charles turned out to be unlike anything we had anticipated. His demeanor and insights were a stark contrast to what we had imagined, even differing from Martin¡¯s expectations. Despite his revelations, we were still hesitant to share every intricate detail of our lives with him, wary of the potential consequences.

    Autumn, on the other hand, was largely quiet throughout the discussions. She spoke only when she felt there was a crucial detail about Sam that we might have overlooked. It was evident that she was struggling internally. She had been deeply invested in Sam emotionally before everything took a dark turn. The revelation that he might not be entirely human¡ªand could potentially be the very monster we had been tracking¡ªleft her feeling betrayed and conflicted.

    Her silence was a reflection of her turmoil. She grappled with a whirlwind of emotions, trying to reconcile her feelings for Sam with the new, unsettling truths. The shock of discovering that someone she had been emotionally close to could be a threat was deeply disorienting for her. We all shared in that confusion, uncertain about how to process the new reality and what it meant for us moving forward.

    A sudden change in Charles became apparent. He visibly moved his head down, looking at the floor and closed his eyes. It looked like he was concentrating on something. Martin shifted beside him, aware that his old mentors¡¯ full attention was on something else.

    ¡°What is it, Charles?¡± Martin asked with a tinge of worry in his voice. Their relationship was strange but powerful. It seemed now, with Martin and Charles finally sharing the same regard for human life, they would become closer.

    ¡°It¡¯s Mercy. She¡¯s calling me,¡± he answered. He stared into the ground for a few moments more until he looked returned to normal. ¡°It seems I must leave.¡±

    ¡°What does she want?¡± Martin questioned again.

    ¡°There are gypsies in the area,¡± Charles said, his voice tight with anxiety. ¡°Mercy wants to see if they know anything about what happened to her coven. But don¡¯t worry¡­ I¡¯ll make sure she doesn¡¯t find out about any of you.¡±

    Frank¡¯s eyes widened with alarm. ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered, ¡°there¡¯s only one family of gypsies around here¡­¡±

    ¡°The Wicklows,¡± Martin interjected, his face pale. ¡°They¡¯re part of this family.¡±

    Charles paused, his expression darkening as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. The silence that followed was heavy with dread. ¡°That is unfortunate,¡± Charles finally said, his tone laced with foreboding.

    ¡°Why?¡± Eleanor asked, her voice trembling with fear.

    Charles¡¯s gaze was intense, his words coming out in a rush. ¡°I doubt Mercy plans to leave the gypsies the way she found them. If she knows about them, it means she¡¯s already deemed them a threat to her power. Especially after losing Charolette.¡±

    ¡°Mom¡­¡± Autumn¡¯s voice broke as she spoke, her body shaking with panic. ¡°We have to do something.¡±

    The urgency in the room was palpable, escalating to a frenzied level. Each second seemed to tick by with increased pressure, the gravity of the situation pressing down on us with suffocating force.

    ¡°Two families joined together?¡± Charles asked through the stress of the room.

    ¡°Three,¡± Eleanor answered shakily.

    Charles looked like he was waiting for more details. I didn¡¯t want him to know all of this, but things were happening so fast, and once Mercy was mentioned, everyone started speaking too freely.

    ¡°Our family is made up of three separate blood families. We are hunters, the Wicklow¡¯s are gypsies, and the third family is cursed¡­ werewolves.¡±

    Charles seemed surprised. He was smiling, ¡°And you all live and hunt together?¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily, but when we have to, we all come together, no questions asked,¡± Frank answered firmly, speaking of past occurrences in our shared history.

    Charles began pacing the length of the living room, ¡°Hunters¡­ gypsies¡­ werewolves¡­ all together.¡± He continued walking in silence for another moment or two.

    ¡°Charles, what is it?¡± Martin urged.

    ¡°Tell me, if you converged all of your numbers, how many of you could you muster in one location?¡± he asked. ¡°Hypothetically, mind you¡­¡±

    I didn¡¯t answer. I was thinking too hard about what he was thinking.

    ¡°Roughly¡­ maybe six¡­ seven gypsies, and the werewolves I do not know. They have numbers, but we don¡¯t know specifically,¡± Wayland of all people answered.

    Charles was running things through his mind many times over. He was thinking deeply about whatever plan he was hypothesizing.

    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Martin asked, concerned about what was coming.

    Wayland answered, ¡°He knows that if Mercy hits the Wicklows, it is highly likely that one of them will tell her about us. The probability of her finding us just increased. But,¡± he continued, ¡°Charles wants to help protect us for Martin, just as he would protect his own family. But he already knows we can¡¯t fight on our own. We¡¯ll need everybody.¡±

    Charles smiled again, ¡°You are very sharp, Wayland. He¡¯s right. I know how Mercy operates, especially when she feels threatened. She¡¯ll kill the gypsies, and anyone else linked to them if she deems them a threat.¡± He spoke surely, ¡°I can tell you that if she knows there is a bond between families, either between the gypsies and a family of werewolves, or hunters, she will come for each of you. She will kill you all. You pose too great a threat.¡±

    Frank asked, ¡°If we had the numbers, do you think we can kill her?¡±

    That was the moment when we all realized what Charles was proposing. The only way to save our family was to bring all of us together. We would have to fight.

    Charles spoke carefully, ¡°She will be hard to kill, but even harder to get to. Phineas, the last of us three, will be her first line of defense. He is not to be taken lightly. It will take all of you¡­¡± Charles looked to Martin and me. ¡°All of us.¡±

    Something unseen passed between Martin and Charles. Charles had a somber reflection in his eyes as he knew he owed it to Martin to protect him after their history. Martin had a thankful look of admiration, and something else I couldn''t quite place.

    I gritted my teeth as I looked at my family. I knew we had something ahead of us... something big. It would be one of the toughest fights we''d ever faced down together. It would take everything we had.

 Chapter 24 - Reunions (Carter)

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the Talbots. Just trust me. Give me a day, and I¡¯ll get Jane to bring their whole pack on board,¡± Frank had promised that morning, his eyes locking with mine. He didn¡¯t waste a second after that, heading straight out the door to find Jane. He knew that if she understood everything, she''d bring all the power of her world, and we both knew how much that mattered. It wasn¡¯t a full moon, but the wolves were formidable even in human form, especially in numbers.

    Next, I hesitated before making the call to the Wicklows. I had braced myself for a difficult conversation, but when Bartley answered, I realized the situation was less complicated than I had anticipated.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to make any moves yet,¡± he spoke first. His tone calm, almost expectant. They already knew¡­

    The Wicklows always spoke in a way that left me uneasy, their words layered with meanings I could never fully grasp. Their abilities defied explanation, working in ways that seemed to twist and blur the way the rest of us viewed the world. As we talked, the conversation took on an unsettling weight, especially when Bartley mentioned what they had already "seen."

    The details were vague, shrouded in a veil of ambiguity, but one thing was clear: we had roughly twenty-four hours before the immortals came for them. The Wicklows'' foresight was unsettling, as if they knew more than they let on, but we had to trust it. It would be a close call, but with any luck, we could rally everyone in time to stand against what was coming.

    Our advantages were few, but they were formidable. First and foremost, we had the element of surprise on our side. Second, we had three modes of attack, each backed by the unique strengths of the three families. And finally, we had two powerful vampires. Forces Mercy would never anticipate standing against her. With these in our arsenal, our chances were stronger than ever. It had to be enough.

    It was late in the night. Hours had passed as we planned our attack, combing through every option. We conference called Bartley as we spoke at great length about the specifics of our ambush. He assured us we didn¡¯t actually need to go to them yet. They could see clearly the time it would happen, and we didn¡¯t need to make any moves that could change the outcome. Honestly it was overwhelming how little control we seemed to have compared to them. However, they had always been our greatest safety measure to stay off the grid, and not make mistakes that would expose our families. So¡­ we trusted their decisions.

    That night, none of us could sleep. Even Martin and Charles were on edge. Martin¡¯s worry was written all over his face. He was thinking about all of us. Charles, on the other hand, was focused on his own family. He knew this was the end of the delicate balance he¡¯d maintained with the monsters below the city. The moment he turned on Mercy, he¡¯d be exposed. If we didn¡¯t manage to take out both Mercy and Phineas, his family could be at risk, too. He talked a good game, confident that we could pull it off, but I could see the unease creeping in.

    Morning came too quickly, and with it, the reality that we were marching into a battle we hadn¡¯t planned for the way we usually did. This felt rushed¡­ too rushed. A nagging doubt crept into the back of my mind, whispering that we might not be ready. But we had no choice. If we didn¡¯t fight, our entire family would be at risk.

    Eleanor and I laid in bed, holding each other in silence as the sun crept through the curtains.

    ¡°It has to be enough¡­¡± El spoke almost in a whisper.

    I squeezed her tighter, smelling her dark hair as it lingered in my face. ¡°It will be, El. I promise¡­¡±

    We stayed that way for a while longer, before we got up to face the world. Just a few more moments alone with the woman I loved. The woman who discovered this dark world and didn¡¯t run¡­ she fought it. She entered this family and made it her own. She takes care of all of us. Sometimes I think she would have made a better hunter than me if she had been born in it like I was. Even the loss of our son¡­ Allen¡­ and she has stuck by me through it all. I had to make sure this worked¡­ for her!

    We were all exhausted from the waiting. As soon as Autumn, Martin, and Charles joined Eleanor and me in the kitchen, we fell into a tense silence. We had barely exchanged words, the plan so thoroughly drilled into our minds that there was nothing more to say. Each of us was wrapped in our own mental preparations, trying to steel ourselves for the chaos ahead.

    I had to project strength and confidence for Autumn and Eleanor. I needed them to believe I wasn¡¯t anxious, that I wasn¡¯t secretly terrified. I couldn¡¯t afford to show any fear, not with the weight of their expectations on my shoulders. They needed to see a leader who was unshakeable, even though inside, I was quaking. My fear wasn¡¯t for myself but for the possibility of losing one of them¡­ my girls. If they knew the truth, the very foundation of their resolve might crumble. I couldn¡¯t do that to them.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Charles and Martin had slipped away into the shadows behind our house. The delved into the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the city. They vanished into a storm drain just a block away, concealed by the lingering darkness from our tree line. With daylight above, they would navigate the underground passages, planning to rejoin us at the destination.

    The rest of us loaded up the Suburban, cramming it with every weapon and resource we could think of; silver in every form, bullets, arrows, bags of dust, and bombs. We were as ready as we could be, but doubt gnawed at me relentlessly. The silence of the car was thick with tension as we pulled out of our garage, my grip tightening on the steering wheel as I silently prayed for us to make it through.

    The ride to the Wicklow¡¯s was a quiet one. The calm before the storm. Eleanor and I spoke softly in the front, but Autumn sat in the back without making a sound. She was there with us, ready to fight, but her mind was someplace else. We could see it plainly on her face. She was thinking about Sam¡­ if he was okay. We let her have her time in the car. It was one of the last calm moments we¡¯d have for a little while.

    When we arrived, Frank and Jane were already there, their presence a solid, reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. The sight of them together ready to fight brought back memories of when we were young. It felt right. Jane, flanked by the other Talbots, exuded a readiness and determination that bolstered my spirits. The sight of each of them was a beacon of resolve, their supernatural abilities evident in their unwavering stances and vigilant eyes. It brought a rare moment of warmth to my mind, I felt hopeful as I looked upon her amassed family. It was a reminder of our shared purpose, of how, despite our differences, feuds, and the time that had come between us, we remained a unified front.

    Among the Talbots, there were faces I recognized instantly: their steely gazes and confident postures spoke volumes of their prowess. Yet, there were also new faces. Strays that must have come into the area and stayed with Jane. I hadn¡¯t seen their abilities yet, but if Jane brought them, I knew they¡¯d be an asset. They stood strong and silent, their presence a testament to the power and unity we needed. Around them, a half dozen vehicles were already parked at the fringes of the gypsies¡¯ land, a silent testament to the support we had gathered.

    Eight of the most formidable Talbots were huddled together near their vehicles, their focus unyielding as they awaited Jane. She and Frank had positioned themselves closer to the house, the gravity of their roles palpable in their every movement. I maneuvered the Suburban alongside them, feeling the weight of the moment as I stepped out to join the growing assembly.

    ¡°Looks like you pulled it off,¡± I said to Frank. ¡°Thanks for coming, Jane.¡±

    She nodded calmly, ¡°We¡¯re glad to be here.¡± She looked back to her family, ¡°When will the others be joining us?¡±

    ¡°Martin and Charles will be here soon. I¡¯m not sure how quick they can move down there, but they¡¯ll be here.¡±

    ¡°My family doesn¡¯t know them or trust them, but we trust you. We¡¯ll keep our distance from them until it begins. Try and keep the peace until the real threat arrives,¡± she said.

    ¡°I understand,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Come on, Carter,¡± Frank gestured towards the house, ¡°they¡¯re waiting for us.¡±

    It was a little awkward and cramped inside the old gypsy house once everyone was present and accounted for. When the two vampires arrived, it made things even tenser, but the gypsies could keep things under control. They had ways of making you feel calm and sedated to not pose a threat to them. The things they could do were¡­ strange.

    Then out of a backroom behind the kitchen, an old gypsy grandmother made an appearance. Her small frame and white hair gave her away instantly. I hadn¡¯t seen her in a couple months. Annabelle Wicklow, the oldest and most potent of the gypsies. She could see things others couldn¡¯t and do things nobody could understand. She wasn¡¯t a weapon used to fight like the rest of us. She was a compass, guiding and keeping us safe from the other things in the world. It didn¡¯t matter where she was, she knew if something was going to happen to the family.

    ¡°Autumn,¡± Annabelle spoke to my daughter from across the tightly packed kitchen. ¡°Come here, sweetie.¡± She slowly crept across the kitchen tiles with her old wooden cane supporting her right side.

    Autumn walked straight into her arms. Annabelle knew exactly what was wrong with her without ever having to ask. Autumn knew that Annabelle could feel what she felt, so they didn¡¯t have any exchange of words. Annabelle was the best thing to an actual grandma that Autumn had, and she loved her. If I¡¯m honest, I think that Annabelle favored Autumn over her own relatives for some reason. All of Autumn¡¯s life, it seemed like Annabelle had a special relationship with her.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay, sweetie¡­ you¡¯ll see. Everything will work out, just give it time,¡± she spoke softly into Autumn¡¯s ear.

    My daughter just cried silently in her embrace. She was able to let her guard down with Annabelle, we all could, because the old gypsy already knew what was in your mind or weighing on your heart.

    I wondered what her words truly meant. What had she seen?

    Bartley spoke up to kick things off. He made introductions for those who didn¡¯t know everyone. He got the elephant out of the room with the vampires and the Talbots. Finally, we got down to business. We were going to be fighting for our lives. We had a plan, we had numbers, we had a lot to lose. As we spoke about everything, I prayed again¡­ for a miracle.

 Chapter 25 - Return

    I had no plan in the beginning. I just floated down the river, numb to the world again. I watched the night sky as the water took me south down the Mississippi, out of St. Louis. After I couldn¡¯t see the lights from the city anymore, I randomly clawed my way up a riverbank of sloppy mud. From there, I started going east. That¡¯s when I did formulate a plan. New York City. That¡¯s where I¡¯d go.

    I started thinking about where I could disappear again. Somewhere that I could just be a face in the crowd and take out the trash when needed. That¡¯s when New York came to mind. So many people all in one small location. The crime, murder, and any other dark deeds done in secret had to be plentiful in a densely populated area like that. It was my best idea. A place I could hide until the beast had to be let out of its cage¡­ and death had to be dealt.

    I had no intention of going back to St. Louis. Not after the way things went down. Initially, I thought that maybe one day, I could tell them the truth about myself, and somehow everything would be okay. I was so fucking stupid. That is not how things went. The look on their faces told me I¡¯d never be welcomed back. The final nail in the coffin was the kill shot. The fact that it was from Autumn made it worse. Everything I feared¡­ it all came true.

    I knew there were questions that they had to have. There was a lot left unanswered in my mind too. I wondered what they really thought about me. Now that a little time had passed, and they thought I was dead, hopefully. But it was easier to just tell myself they hated me, and to never go back.

    Yet, I knew the actual truth. I was too scared to face them. I couldn¡¯t imagine having to face Autumn, let alone Eleanor. What would Carter think? And Frank¡­ the look on his face was something that hit me harder than I thought possible. I did that.

    I kept walking east. I had to give up my family again. I¡¯d have to be the monster on my own. No one close enough to hurt. It was the life I lived for the first two years of this shit, before the Chasse family found me in that parking lot. This was how it had to be¡­ forever.

    However, fate intervened, and something happened.

    I was thrown to the ground by an unseen force. My body no longer my own as it twisted and flexed in unnatural directions as I thrashed on the ground, clenching my teeth so hard I thought they¡¯d shatter. My vision went black, and there was this noise. It was like a speaker with the volume turned past the max. Nothing could be understood, only an overwhelming roar that vibrated every inch of me. The force felt like I was being buried beneath a mountain. It was a violent and confusing experience that was quickly replaced by the dominating power of the voice from before.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Rise,¡± it spoke to me.

    Images started ripping through my mind. It was another vision.

    There was a woman with straight black hair and eyes to match. She had other women bowing down in front of her in some kind of ritual. Others chanted in reverence. I couldn¡¯t understand what they spoke, but I knew they were praising her. They were calling on her for power. I could feel the rage and darkness of the woman. She wasn¡¯t like Charlotte Gunderson. She was far more wicked and disturbed.

    I saw so many things at once, it is hard to explain them all, but I understood every second of it. I saw her the first time she made human sacrifices to extend her own life. I saw the second time, the third, fourth, and so on. I saw her live on for centuries in every corner of the world, perfecting her dark arts and power. I saw her perform a ritual that killed four teenage girls and allowed her to speak to something beyond our own world. It was evil. That¡¯s all I felt¡­ evil. The thing she reached out to on the other side gave her newer, darker powers that made her into something far more dangerous. Something that she could never have been on her own.

    Then I watched as she would twist and corrupt those around her to serve, and to lure others into her grasp. I heard them call her Mercy. Mercy Lewis! Though I knew it wasn¡¯t her true name. She developed this alias later in life to hide. I watched her paranoia make her to take more lives in the name of power and secrecy.

    Every place she went, through many stages in time as she brought despair and corruption. I saw all of the evil she had committed, all of the darkness she spread through the world, like the plague she was. I saw all the lives snuffed out to extend her own. There was blood everywhere, in every image that passed through my mind. Bodies bent, broken, and burning all laid in her wake. There was a fire, a red fire. I could feel the heat of it from the visions. It wasn¡¯t normal. It felt like it could burn me through my mind. It was conjured from somewhere else.

    The voice spoke again, ¡°Mucia!¡± The name reverberated through my mind until it was engraved into every thought.

    I sucked in a gasp of air as my eyes flew open. That name¡­ Mercy Lewis. The alias she had come to be known by in our modern times was supposed to protect her identity. It did nothing for me. I could feel the beast pulling inside, but I already knew where I had to go. I had to turn around and go back to St. Louis.

    That evil bitch had come to the surface looking for me, except I was the one who¡¯d find her. I¡¯d be the one to kill her. Mucia was my next target.

 Chapter 26 - Dread (Carter)

    The air was thick with anticipation as everyone took their places, each member of the family and our allies knowing their roles down to the last detail. The Talbots, silent and vigilant, had melted into the shadows of the tree line, their forms nearly indistinguishable from the dense forest that hugged the property. Their keen eyes were locked onto the house, muscles coiled like springs, ready to explode into action at a moment''s notice. Their speed could close the distance between the trees and the house in the blink of an eye if the signal was given.

    The gypsies, enigmatic and powerful, held their ground closer to the house, their presence almost casual as if they were merely passing through. But this was all part of the ruse, a carefully crafted facade to lull any observers into a false sense of security. By positioning themselves at the heart of the property, they could project their abilities outward, their powers rippling like unseen waves across the land. They were the unpredictable element, the wildcards in our extended family, capable of turning the tide of battle when needed most.

    My own family had spread out with meticulous precision, each person taking up a position that offered both strategic advantage and a line of sight to one another. Martin and Charles, our most powerful, had stationed themselves with Annabelle, their sole focus her protection. We all knew that Phineas was a force to be reckoned with, his strength and abilities shrouded in mystery. Even Charles, with all his experience, couldn¡¯t fully gauge the depths of Phineas¡¯ power. Chimeras could have varieties of power that would differ between one to the next, so there was no real way to prepare for him. This uncertainty had led us to dedicate Martin and his elder to Annabelle''s defense, a decision we all hoped would be enough.

    As we all settled into our positions, the tension that had initially gripped us began to ease. There was a shared understanding, an unspoken agreement that we were all here for the same purpose: to protect what was ours, to face the coming storm together. The presence of Martin and Charles, two vampires of considerable might, offered a sense of reassurance. If anyone could keep Annabelle safe, it was them.

    Annabelle herself was a picture of serenity, her calm demeanor almost unsettling in the face of what was to come. From the very beginning, she had carried herself with a quiet confidence, a certainty that bordered on the eerie. While the rest of us could feel the weight of the impending doom, the palpable sense of danger that hung over us like a dark cloud, Annabelle seemed untouched by it all. There was no fear in her eyes, no anxiety in her movements. It was as if she had already accepted whatever fate awaited us, and in doing so, had found peace.

    Even Bartley admitted to me to the side that his own sight was limited. He told me there were ¡°blind spots¡± in his visions. It was like entire sections of existence were wiped out and he didn¡¯t understand. He was relying on his mother¡¯s greater power and experience.

    And so, we waited, each of us poised on the edge of action, hearts pounding in our chests. The night was still, but it was a deceptive calm, the kind that came before a violent storm. We knew that when it broke, it would do so with a ferocity that none of us could predict. But in that moment, surrounded by family and allies, we found a strange comfort in our readiness, in the knowledge that whatever came next, we would face it together.

    The Wicklows had done something to connect our minds. It was like we were all linked to the same comms, but we had no gear. It wasn¡¯t like telepathy, you had to say the words, but we could all hear each other. It was bizarre but extremely useful.

    We were all coiled in the tense silence, every breath held as the seconds dragged on like hours. And then, it happened. A light flared up roughly forty yards from the house, a sudden and small flash of fire that seemed almost innocuous, hovering eerily in the stillness of the night. But before any of us could react, the light erupted violently, a savage detonation that tore through the air with a deafening roar. Flames surged outward in a furious wave, engulfing everything in its path.

    The shockwave slammed into me like a truck, knocking the wind from my lungs. It was like being hit by a freight train, blinding light and searing heat all at once, leaving us stunned and disoriented. I could feel the blast rattling through my bones, my senses reeling as I instinctively reached for my weapon, fingers fumbling in the confusion. But there was no time to think, no time to act. It was just raw, visceral panic as we scrambled for cover, each of us desperately trying to shield ourselves from the inferno. My thoughts panicked as I thought about my girls. Where were they, and were they okay?

    Then, in the midst of the chaos, something hit me. A paralyzing force that snapped me entirely still. It wasn¡¯t just me; it hit everyone, freezing us in place as the fire raged on sporadically around the property. The flames licked at our bodies, scorching the air around us, yet we couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t even scream. The heat was unbearable, a living, breathing entity that pressed down on us like a suffocating blanket. It felt as though the very earth had turned against us, trapping us in a hellish nightmare from which there was no escape.

    I clutched my gun tightly in my hands, unable to use it. I couldn¡¯t move my feet from their places. I could only watch. I looked around to find my family. Frank was lying on his back, struggling to get up. Jane was right beside him, locked in a kneeling position. Eleanor and Autumn were just out of the tree line. Autumn on her hands and knees while El had her rifle up and aimed directly at the center of where the blast had originated, yet unable to do anything further. I couldn¡¯t spot any of our other allies in the chaos.

    I saw two figures standing at the epicenter of the burning property. There was a tall, strong-looking red-haired man with a wild grin. Next to him, a shorter woman with dark hair and black eyes. At first glance, the red-haired man looked to be more dangerous; however, I could feel the power coming out of the woman. This was them, Mercy and Phineas.

    ¡°Well, well, well¡­¡± she spoke as she peered towards the house.

    The front door of the Wicklow¡¯s burning house opened slowly. Annabelle stepped out calmly and walked straight across the burning grass to her attackers. We all screamed in our minds, yet unable to physically produce a noise. It was her. Mercy had us all under her power.

    What the fuck? How had this happened? Annabelle said everything would go according to plan¡­ and this was not the plan! What had she done?

    ¡°This the lass yer'' worried about?¡± Phineas looked down on the old gypsy with a smile. He had an Irish accent that thickened his words.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be fooled by her kind. They have their ways of getting inside your head,¡± Mercy warned.

    ¡°I know why you are here,¡± Annabelle finally spoke.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mercy acted surprised. ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell. I assume you think it is by accident that I let loose a spell on all your followers, as soon as I stepped through the fire.¡±

    ¡°We knew how you¡¯d all try¡¯n fight,¡± Phineas laughed. ¡°Even you¡­ Charles.¡± Phineas spat as he looked towards the inferno of a house.

    Just then, Mercy lifted her hand and waved it towards herself. Charles¡¯ body came flying through the jagged front window and then slid through the burnt earth. Shards of glass and dirt littered his silver hair as he slid towards the witch.

    ¡°Was it you, Charles. Did you attack my coven? Kill my young Charlotte, did you?¡± Mercy continued to toy with them both. ¡°Or was it you?¡±

    Annabelle seemed untouched by the powers of this witch. She stood with the same calm and empathetic face she always had.

    ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± Annabelle said.

    What was she talking about? How could she challenge such a powerful being? She was going to get herself killed. She was going to get us all killed¡­ and¡­ there was nothing I could do. I was completely powerless¡­ useless!

    ¡°Oh, am I,¡± the heinous witch laughed. ¡°Please tell me¡­ I¡¯m dying to know.¡±

    Annabelle closed her eyes and slowly got down on both knees. She was not afraid and took her time lowering herself in her old age. Her calm face went into one of focus and concentration. Of all the time I had known Annabelle, I had never felt this. I could feel an opposing force in the air, a shaking of power that rose to rival Mercy¡¯s. Then, Martin appeared beside Charles. Somehow broken free of his paralysis inside the house. Now he was free and mobile.

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    Mercy laughed again, ¡°All this power for what? To break only one free!¡± She seemed genuinely disappointed.

    ¡°It is not my power you should fear¡­¡± Annabelle spoke with her closed eyes, still concentrating.

    ¡°I never feared you. I only came to turn you to dust,¡± Mercy said, raising her hands in attack.

    Before she could act, a visual pulse came from within Annabelle. It was a disruption in the spell that bound us. It only let us have a second, but I took two steps forward. I could see everyone that was locked up move as well. Then I heard the sound of Eleanor¡¯s rifle.

    In the few seconds of freedom we had, she let her bullet fly. It sailed across the expanse right into Phineas¡¯ head. El was a smart hunter, and she knew her best chance was to take out the chimera with a silver headshot. None of us knew his weaknesses, but she took a chance with our best weapon.

    Blood spattered across Mercy¡¯s face as the bullet exited Phineas¡¯ head. It changed everything, shaking her resolve. I saw fear in the witch¡¯s dark eyes. For a moment, I thought Eleanor succeeded, and he was dead.

    Everyone locked back up, frozen with paralysis again in that moment of anticipation. Had it worked? If so, then it would be Mercy against Martin. We had a chance¡­ finally, this was it.

    Before his knee could even touch the ground, Phineas regained control of his momentum and turned directly towards Eleanor. Blood trickled out of an open wound on each side of his head. He raised his arm up and into his chest. Strange looking barbs came out of the skin of his forearm. I could see them from where I stood. Then, almost too quick to see, he flung his arm out towards Eleanor. The barbs shot across the gap and peppered the side of Eleanor¡¯s legs, dropping her to the ground immediately. She didn¡¯t freeze like the rest of us did. She was free of the spell like Martin, but I soon knew why.

    ¡°NO!¡± Martin roared. ¡°What have you done!¡±

    Martin charged forward and slammed his body into Phineas¡¯ with animalistic fury. It was rage. It was everything I was feeling but couldn¡¯t express.

    My eyes locked onto my wife¡¯s writhing body, screaming in pain as she clawed through the grass. The barbs were some kind of poison, and it was visibly traveling through her system. Blackened veins were crawling up from her leg, making it to her throat in only moments. Her skin tone changed pale, and her movements weakened. I stood still, even though every cell of my body was fighting against the evil power restricting me. I needed to get to her. The tears flowing from my eyes were the only things moving on my whole body.

    Autumn was crying, merely feet away from her mother, but unable to do anything but watch. She couldn¡¯t reach her, take care of her, or even just hold her through the pain.

    Martin rolled through the fiery chaos with Phineas as they battled for control. I only saw them through my peripheral vision, but I could hear the snarls of pain and fury as they clawed each other. Then, I heard Phineas laugh.

    A loud crack ripped across the battlefield, and Martin was soaring back into a kneeling Charles. After their bodies collided, Charles got up.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if two of you can best him,¡± Mercy suggested as she let her grip loosen on Charles.

    Charles and Martin looked at each other for a second, agreeing internally on some kind of plan of action. Then, they morphed into beasts almost unrecognizable from the empathetic nature we had come to know. They were wild, truly unleashed. Red eyes and razor claws circled the chimera. They flung themselves in with no regard for themselves. They were out for blood. The creatures swarming Phineas in a murderous rage were only shadows of Martin and Charles. They were going to kill him no matter what it meant for themselves. They had to win, because if they didn¡¯t¡­ Eleanor wouldn¡¯t stand a chance. None of us would. Not even Charles secret family. I knew that Mercy would find them¡­ and so did he.

    The next few minutes unfolded like a waking nightmare, a horrific showcase of Phineas¡¯ unimaginable power. What had once seemed like a close battle quickly turned into a brutal and relentless demonstration of his dominance. Martin and Charles, both seasoned fighters with lifetimes of experience, were reduced to little more than rag dolls in his grasp. They were hurled across the area with bone-shattering force, their bodies battered and bloodied, drifting in and out of consciousness as they desperately tried to recover, only to be torn down again.

    Phineas moved with a terrifying, serpentine grace, his every motion calculated and precise. He let out a snarling hiss, a sound so inhuman, so cold-blooded, that it sent a chill down my spine. It was the sound of a predator, something far removed from the world of men¡ªmore monster than anything else. He toyed with them, allowing Martin and Charles to briefly gain the upper hand, only to crush their hopes with a sudden, overwhelming surge of power. It was a twisted game to him, one where the outcome was never in doubt.

    There was no mistaking it now¡­ Phineas was a monster in the truest sense of the word. An unstoppable force of nature, an amalgamation of the strongest, most dangerous creatures he had consumed and assimilated into his being. He had spent lifetimes perfecting himself, evolving into the most lethal abomination imaginable, and now, we were witnessing the full extent of his power. The dread settled in like a cold, dark fog, wrapping around us as we realized that there was no escaping him, no defeating him. Phineas wasn¡¯t just strong, he was the embodiment of death, a living nightmare that we couldn¡¯t wake from.

    How could we win? How would my family survive? The Talbots, all immobilized, would be next once Martin and Charles had no fight left. Then, Mercy would kill all the gypsies next, just to ensure her power wasn¡¯t threatened by any other. Then my family, the hunters, we¡¯d go last. We couldn¡¯t stop them. This was the end, and I knew it. I could barely see my wife and daughter across the expanse through my tears. They seemed to be getting further away as the truth rose and presented itself to me. I¡¯d never touch them, hug them, or have a moment of happiness with them again. This was it¡­

    Mercy laughed wickedly, ¡°You thought these two would be enough? I should fear them?¡± She talked down to the still focusing Annabelle.

    Annabelle¡¯s face finally eased off, and she opened her eyes. She braced her old knees as she stood back up to speak to the older witch.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t any of us you should fear,¡± Annabelle finally smiled the same way she always did. It was like she was teaching a child a lesson.

    Mercy didn¡¯t know what to make of her. She looked confused. Yet, her pride came through as it had since she arrived. She was too powerful to show fear, at least in her mind.

    "That''s good because I don''t," Mercy spat, her voice dripping with venom. Without hesitation, she raised her hands, and an inferno erupted around them, flames swirling violently in shades of deep, hellish red. The fire crackled with a sinister energy, licking hungrily at the air as if starved for destruction. Mercy''s eyes burned with a cold, unforgiving fury as she prepared to unleash the full brunt of her wrath upon Annabelle. The fire roared, growing hotter and more intense by the second, a brutal, merciless force poised to consume everything in its path. Annabelle''s end was imminent, and Mercy was about to obliterate her without a second thought.

    Annabelle simply said, ¡°It¡¯s him¡­¡± and pointed toward the shadows that crept from the woods near an unburning part of the land by the trees.

    Through the mental link forged by the Wicklows, we all heard it. The chilling echo of Annabelle¡¯s words reverberating through our minds¡­ and in that instant, a wave of dread washed over us. My eyes snapped to the darkened edge of the woods to my left, where something stirred in the shadows. A figure emerged, moving with a steady, relentless pace, each step bringing it closer to us. The silhouette was tall and powerfully built, a looming presence that seemed to swallow the very light around it. His stride was purposeful, unwavering, and he was coming¡­ straight for Mercy and Annabelle, and by extension, all of us.

    As the figure drew nearer, the details became clearer, and a sense of doom swallowed the area. A dark hood shrouded his head and face, concealing his features in an impenetrable shadow, yet it was impossible to not feel the malevolent energy that radiated from him. There was an oppressive weight in the air, a suffocating sense of wrongness that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. It felt like the world was trying to reject his presence. This was no ordinary threat; this was something far more sinister. The closer he came, the more palpable the danger became, and it gnawed at our nerves with a dreadful certainty. He wasn¡¯t just approaching; he was bringing with him a darkness that threatened to consume us all. I looked away and back to my wife and daughter. I failed them¡­

    ¡°He¡¯s the one¡­ the one you all have been searching for so intently. He killed all those in your coven. And now, I¡¯m afraid¡­ he¡¯s here,¡± Annabelle said, with a slight unsettlement in her tone.

    Mercy¡¯s full attention turned toward the figure, as did everyone else¡¯s.

    ¡°Do you feel that, Mercy?¡± Annabelle asked, almost trying to teach her something. ¡°Nothing¡­ absolutely nothing. I can¡¯t feel or see anything about him, and neither can you.¡±

    Suddenly I fell forward into the dirt. The power that kept us all frozen solid was gone. Mercy¡¯s spell was dissolved. Her attention had shifted to the figure, and she wanted her full power against him. She was scared.

    I got up, ignoring the doom I felt all around us and ran toward Autumn. She was sitting up against a tree, holding her mother close as soon as she was free. She tried to calm El as she struggled in pain.

    ¡°Mom¡­ it¡¯s going to be okay. Annabelle will know what to do,¡± she pleaded.

    ¡°El!¡± I yelled as soon as I slid through the charred grass and dirt to my wife and daughter. ¡°El, we have to go.¡± I picked her up and ordered Autumn to follow. She could still stand with our help, and she limped towards our vehicles as we carried her.

    I heard Annabelle still talking through the mental link.

    ¡°That¡¯s why you never saw him coming,¡± Annabelle smiled.

    Phineas threw Charles into the dirt and shifted his attention to the dark figure that came from the shadows. He could sense something that made him change targets. He violently bounded toward him, like a tiger in the last few steps before the kill.

    The hooded figure never faltered, and actually started to run towards the danger. He was charging straight into the immensely powerful chimera. Just before the two collided, his hood came off, and his solid black eyes reflected the flames that engulfed the battlefield. His shifting face opened my eyes¡­ It was Sam. This presence¡­ this dread¡­ it was him.

 Chapter 27 - Monster vs. Monster

    I exploded from where I stood, ripping up the earth as my feet left the ground. From the moment the vision subsided, I never stopped moving. If my body was capable of tiring at all, I didn¡¯t feel it. I pressed on, kept moving, never slowing. I knew my target¡­ Mucia. I knew her alias, Mercy Lewis. I knew I had to kill her. It had been decided, but not by me. I was merely the instrument.

    The journey had been long, each mile blending into the next as I pushed forward, the endless stretch of road and earth rushing beneath me. The landscape changed subtly, the monotony of the highway giving way to winding backroads, the trees growing thicker, their branches interlocking overhead, casting shifting shadows on the ground. I could feel the weight of every passing moment, the distance closing between us as I homed in on her location, a place that seemed to pulse with a dark, foreboding energy.

    Finally, I arrived. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, the ground beneath my feet scorched and blackened. The border of the tree line loomed before me, the shadows dense and protective of me as they encroached upon a sprawling property. The trees seemed to whisper warnings as I approached, their branches clawing at the sky, framing a scene of devastation.

    Beyond the tree line, trails of flame crisscrossed the land, like fiery veins spreading across the earth. The house stood at the heart of it all, a hulking silhouette against the eerie red glow of the flames. Smaller structures were scattered farther back, half-hidden in the gloom, their shapes twisted and indistinct in the wavering light. The river that bordered the property glimmered ominously, its surface reflecting the chaos.

    As I surveyed the scene, my eyes were drawn to the figures within the fire¡¯s grasp. They were everywhere, positioned as if caught mid-action, their forms eerily still despite the inferno that surrounded them. But they weren¡¯t dead, I knew that for certain. It was as though time had abandoned them, leaving them trapped in an eternal moment of horror. My pulse quickened, dread curling in my gut as recognition dawned. Those faces, those forms¡­ frozen in time¡­ they were my family.

    The ones I had come to love, the people I had fought so hard to protect, were all suffering in ways I couldn¡¯t bear to witness. They were utterly helpless, caught in a nightmare from which there was no escape, unable to move, unable to defend themselves from whatever torment was being inflicted upon them. It was a vision of pure horror.

    But then, there was Eleanor. Unlike the others, she wasn¡¯t frozen. She was writhing on the grass, her body contorted in some kind of unspeakable agony. Panic gripped me as I noticed how wrong she looked, her complexion a sickly pale that made my heart skip a beat. She wasn¡¯t just in pain¡­ she was suffering in a way that went beyond the physical. Blackened lines jagged and creeping inched across her body.

    And there was Autumn, right beside her mother. Her distant form trembling as she watched helplessly. The sight of her, so scared and powerless, broke something inside me. I had never witnessed this side of her¡­ of any of them. She was crying silent tears that streamed down her cheeks, reflecting the flames around us. All I could see in her eyes was a deep, unbearable sorrow. She couldn¡¯t do anything to help her mom.

    My eyes darted between them, my heart pounding in my chest. Fear and rage churned within me, twisting together into a dark, violent storm that rocked the direction of the monster for a brief moment.

    A fight was actively happening between Martin, another vampire, and someone else. He moved differently than the two vampires. He was like nothing I had ever seen before, taller and thicker with strangely flexed muscles. His right arm covered in some sort of bone spikes that looked absolutely lethal. A more massive spike of bone came out of his elbow, running in line with his forearm. Gauging the situation, I had to infer that it was Phineas, the chimera. He had a plethora of strange features that I could see from out in the woods. I wanted a closer look.

    The other vampire that seemed to be helping Martin was still a mystery. Judging from the intensity of his attacks, he looked strong, if not stronger, than Martin. However, the red-haired demon fought off the two vampiric monsters with ease. He toyed with them, prolonging the struggle intentionally. He was just showing off. He gouged his elbow spike through the other vampire¡¯s chest.

    ¡°I bet that one hurt ya,¡± the red-haired creature taunted the vampire as he pinned him to the side of the burning house with his boney protrusion. From his accent, he sounded Irish.

    Then¡­ in the middle of everything stood her¡­ Mucia. She stood firmly with confidence in the middle of the chaos orchestrated by her power. She was untouchable. At least she thought she was. She was just like the vision, pure evil. The same, eternally youthful face gazed upon all her future victims without mercy. She was just like the rest before. No different than the murderers I hunted before I discovered the supernatural world. She thought she was untouchable.

    In front of Mucia was an older woman. She looked too frail to be out in the middle of the violent chaos. She looked out of place, and obviously not with these two immortals. When I looked at her, she looked directly back at me. It wasn¡¯t a glance just after she noticed something. It was like she was expecting me. She stared for a good ten seconds, smiling at me almost in relief. She looked back to Mucia and said a few words.

    I stepped out from the shadows of the trees with one goal¡­ to kill. The faster I killed them, the faster I¡¯d save my friends and all the ones I had grown to care for. I walked towards Mucia. I had to rip my talons through her and feel all the stolen lives freed. Death would finally take her from this world.

    The one I assumed to be Phineas turned his gaze on me. He stopped tormenting the vampires and started running straight at me. I don¡¯t know what alerted him to my presence, but he would get in my way. I couldn¡¯t let him distract me. I had to kill Mucia. But, if I had to kill him first to get to Mucia, I would.

    I started allowing my muscles to free themselves from their human form, strengthening, and elongating. I was running straight at Phineas across the still blazing field. My speed blew the hood off my head. I didn¡¯t stop. I ran relentlessly, gaining momentum with every step. My friends would see me. They would finally see what kind of monster I truly was. But¡­ if it was to save them all, then so be it.

    I could tell he was the apex predator in most situations. He did not doubt his strength. He was committed to killing me just as he would anyone else. He was unprepared.

    I leaped through the air to meet the charging Phineas. When my transforming body slammed into his monstrous form, a resounding crash echoed through the surrounding trees. Our momentum twisted us to the ground in a violent collision. Claws and talons ripped through the air as we swung at each other. Phineas was fast, dodging my swipes and attacks just quick enough not to get caught. After the initial clash, I could tell he changed his approach. He felt my strength¡­ and I felt his. He wasn¡¯t attacking now; he was reacting. He waited for openings as I lunged at him with uncompromising wrath. I didn¡¯t change anything about my approach. I only had one thing in my mind that pushed me forward; one thought that made my body move. KILL!

    When I was given a name through a vision, I only had one speed. Every attack was to kill; no strategy, no plan of attack, it was kill, kill, and kill again.

    My body was still shifting as we came out of the initial clash. I came at him through the flaming field, chaos and fury growing with every second. I grew larger and darker, my body burning from within as I changed into the beast that would end them both.

    Then, everyone else started firing. Blasts from multiple directions sounded off as the hot silver came ripping through the air around me and the chimera. The hunters were back up and taking action. I felt bullets cut into me as I continued towards Phineas. The gunfire didn¡¯t make me falter, but Phineas started becoming more evasive and actively avoided me and the bullets.

    Phineas leaped high through the air, over a thick band of flames to a few parked cars. The bullets stopped screaming towards me and followed him to cover. The Chasses, Wicklows, and Talbots weren¡¯t trying to kill me. They kept their focus and sights on Phineas, even as I grew in strength, size, and monstrosity. I pushed it harder, forcing the monster out as fast as possible. It burned harder as it ate up my human form and took shape in reality.

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    With my path currently clear, I turned my attention back towards Mucia. She stood in the same spot right in the center; eyes fixed on me. She hadn¡¯t moved an inch, nor had the older woman beside her.

    I stood in place just long enough to push the transformation the rest of the way. The burning ripped through me fast, popping joints and muscles out and into new locations. I used my talons to tear what was left of my constricting clothes from my growing form. In only seconds, I was fully transformed. Murder in the flesh.

    The bullets stopped firing for a moment; everyone was unsure if they were firing at the right creature. Mucia and the older woman stood in awe of such a powerful and unknown beast. None of them had ever seen anything like what they were witnessing at that moment. Panic and dread swept the area as a deep guttural snarl ripped out of my fanged face.

    I pushed off from the ground in a rush, flinging my body into a path directly at Mucia. I don¡¯t know why she didn¡¯t move. Maybe I caught her by surprise, or perhaps it was something else. She was staring fearfully as my talons swung towards her. Her jaw clenched at my approach. Right before my razors ripped the flesh from her skull, I was hit by something substantial and metallic. The little black sedan crashed into me at blinding speed. It sailed through the air, propelled by an unseen force, to meet me just in front of Mucia.

    Metal screeched and tore as the car collided into me, the force of impact crushing the car and slamming me into the ground like a rock driven into mud. The earth swallowed me, halting our momentum with brutal finality. It looked like I was buried with a little sedan as my headstone. My muscles coiled with raw power, and with a violent surge, I heaved the car out of the crater, sending it flying. I vaulted from the hole just as the mangled wreckage crashed back down.

    I turned to the witch, a snarl of seething rage rumbling from deep within, venomous and feral. Blood dripped from the cuts the jagged metal had torn into my flesh, but they were mere scratches. In moments, the wounds sealed themselves, knitting back together until I was whole again, the fury in my eyes burning brighter than ever. That was the power I had been looking for. That was the kind of strength I had hoped to find and end my existence. But¡­ not anymore.

    Phineas was still hiding behind the vehicles, probably trying to heal from the bullets and the few slashes I got in. He didn¡¯t seem as deathly sensitive to silver as most other monsters I had read about. I wondered why that was. However, it still took a toll on him unlike normal bullets would.

    The hunters took advantage of the time they had. They had all run and converged on Eleanor, the Talbots all circling them with yellow eyes fixed on the threats that might come their way, and the Wicklows all ran for the cover of the woods. The only one left out with all the monsters was the little old woman standing by Mucia. It was then that I realized it had to be Annabelle. She looked like a Wicklow, and from how Autumn had described her to me, she really seemed to fit the mold. She seemed¡­ unafraid. She was calm in the chaos around everyone.

    I could see them struggling to carry Eleanor, who weakly stumbled more with every step. Jane scooped her off her feet with her powerful arms, then disappearing into the depths of the woods. In just a few short moments, the massive group of friends and family faded into the shadows.

    ¡°Who do you think you are?¡± Mercy asked in a rage.

    She held her trembling hands out in front of her, fingers splayed wide as if grasping at the air itself. A flicker of something unnatural sparked between them. Then suddenly, flames burst forth, wild and untamed as if they had been summoned from the very depths of a nightmare. These weren¡¯t ordinary flames; they were vicious, alive with a sinister energy that crackled and hissed as they tore into existence.

    The fire erupted, consuming the ground in an instant, faster and more ferocious than any wildfire I had ever seen. The inferno surged, swelling and expanding like a living thing, until it formed a swirling barrier around her and Annabelle. A ring of fire, nearly thirty yards across, separated me from my target, a churning, seething wall of heat and fury that seemed to pulse with malevolence.

    The heat was unbearable. It was more than just scorching. It felt as though it could strip the flesh from my bones, reducing me to ash in the blink of an eye. The flames shifted, taking on a deep, menacing red, a hue that reminded me of blood; dark, thick, and ready to consume. The air shimmered with intensity, and as the fire grew hotter, I could feel its deadly hunger. A force that threatened to consume everything in its path, including me.

    Her voice came out of the twisting inferno like she was the very flames herself, ¡°I¡¯ve lived for centuries. You cannot touch me, beast.¡±

    The fire grew taller, overtaking what was left of the burning house and turning it to cinders. The ground around us scorched and killed anything organic. Even the dirt below started to char and crack. She was turning the land into a literal hell on earth.

    ¡°You will die. I will take your life¡­ your power¡­ and it will strengthen me,¡± she told me as fact. Her voice was growing more confident with every word as she unleashed her real power.

    I was so distracted with the urge to kill, to run through the blaze that I never saw Phineas coming. I was peppered with sharp little spikes all down my left side. I looked down at the searing flesh that felt like it was boiling from the inside. They looked like the small bone spikes from the chimera¡¯s arm. I looked up and saw him coming, his confidence back. He slammed into me with that bony elbow-spike, wedging it into my monstrous frame before sending me flying. He actually hurt me¡­

    Phineas was stalking around me as he prepared for the killing blow. He was significantly larger than before, and stronger. He didn¡¯t have my size, but he did have an even more monstrous transformation. He stood only about a foot shorter than me, right arm littered with even longer spikes of bone. His snake-like hiss was now accompanied by his forked-tongue that licked the blood from his face. His eyes were yellow like the werewolves, but his pupils were vertically slit like a cat. He had a yellowish-orange flesh with black stripes, like needles pointing towards his centerline. He was a mix of countless beasts. He was by far the most interesting creature I had ever seen or read about. The strongest, as well.

    ¡°That¡¯s the venom working through ya¡¯, mate,¡± the chimera hissed. Even his monstrous voice had a bit of an accent. ¡°You¡¯re feeling it now, aren¡¯t you? Just like that little hunter lass with the rifle,¡± he said as I laid on my back. ¡°Your strength¡¯s fading, your senses goin¡¯ bye-bye. That¡¯s what the sting of a manticore¡¯l do to ya,¡± he laughed. ¡°I¡¯ve fought things stronger than me b¡¯fore. You might be the strongest, but you¡¯re no dif¡¯rent. My venom¡¯l weaken and eventually kill ya¡¯. But before it does, I¡¯ll take the best parts of ya¡¯ for myself,¡± he explained.

    My mind went to Eleanor. The same venom that seared me from the inside had been rushing through her body every single second since she had been hit. It must have happened just before I got there. I had to end this. I had to finish him, then Mucia. Then, maybe with the help of the gypsies, we could save Eleanor.

    Phineas laughed through his narrow set of fangs before rushing in for the kill. For him, this was it. He¡¯d kill me and move on to the fleeing family that I had come to know and love. His fully transformed body, fangs bared, had almost made it to my neck.

    I pushed myself off the ground so fast he couldn¡¯t react midair. I clamped my talons around his neck, twisting him around me and jamming his face into the charred earth beneath us. A crack echoed out from his spine as the pressure I placed on his bones surpassed their durability. A squealing hiss escaped his maw.

    ¡°If you could kill me,¡± I spoke directly into his ear, ¡°I might have welcomed it at one time.¡± My beastly voice deepened with the words, ¡°You die now. Then it will be her.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­ how are you¡­¡± he tried to speak through the strain I was putting on him. He couldn¡¯t get the words out.

    I shoved my hand through his spine and into the earth. The cracks were multiple as his bones separated and sheared his spinal column. I felt his resistance drop off entirely as soon as his massive spine was severed. I went into a frenzy, clawing and ripping through the flesh that held his head to the rest of him. I didn¡¯t know what a chimera could do for sure, but I was reasonably certain he couldn¡¯t come back to stop me without a head.

    Shortly after, I stood, again, in front of the twisting inferno. Only this time, I held the bloodied head of the chimera in my right, monstrous hand.

    ¡°Phineas,¡± the words came from the red blaze, ¡°it seems you¡¯ve failed me too. No matter. One less useless underling whose hand needs to be held.¡± She was inherently vain and thought herself to be the highest of them all. Everyone was beneath her power. ¡°You think you can kill me next, beast? Go ahead¡­ step into the hellfire. You will be turned to dust, just like the rest.¡±

    I didn¡¯t wait. I didn¡¯t care about the witch¡¯s taunts. I didn¡¯t care that this fire would hurt like hell, literally. I didn¡¯t know what hellfire would do to me, if that is what it indeed was. I only knew one thing. I had to kill.

    I took a deep breath into my monstrous lungs and sprinted wildly into the bloody flames. I broke through the barrier and felt the change instantly. I felt like a leaf in a hurricane. The power was like nothing I had felt in my entire life. It took everything in my strength just to stand in place and not have my feet taken out from under me. I knelt to the ground to stabilize myself inside the inferno. The flames licked every inch of my flesh, burning away the layers one by one. I could feel the heat ripping me to pieces. It tore apart everything from the forefront of my mind. I couldn¡¯t hear or see anything except for crimson flames and the roar that accompanied them.

    Then, a different voice spoke through the flames. IT cut through everything; the pain, the raging noise, the scorching heat, the rage¡­ it all bowed to the voice. The dark, ominous voice said one word, ¡°Fall!¡±

 Chapter 28 - Elsewhere

    I opened my eyes, and for a moment, my mind struggled to catch up with the sudden change. The searing heat, the roar of the firestorm, the sizzling of my burning flesh had all vanished, leaving only a faint echo in my ears. The first thing I noticed was the absence of the flames. They were gone, utterly and completely. I was outside, lying in the middle of a grassy area. All I saw above me were blue skies without a cloud in sight. It reminded me of home, not the old factory or the Chasse house, but my real home. It was what it felt like back in Texas¡­ when I was a kid.

    I rose from the ground, not recognizing the place where I stood. I looked down at my body, and I didn¡¯t see the dark form of the monster. I was me again. All my clothes were back on like before I had transformed. My shirt wasn¡¯t even ripped.

    I remembered feeling the heat, the flames, experiencing the extreme torture that came with the hellfire, but something else happened there at the end. I felt a fog wash over me, like the night I was attacked. The night I changed into this creature that craved death. I thought it was what I felt back then¡­ like I was dying.

    I heard a sharp, cracking sound that made me whip around, heart pounding. The air was thick with tension, and the noise was unmistakable. A rifle cracking off in the distance. My eyes darted across the field, and then I saw him. A man stood amidst the tall grass, his figure stoic and focused.

    The man held a rifle, its barrel still smoking slightly from the last shot. He was calm, methodical, as if this were just another day¡¯s work. He never looked at me, never acknowledged my presence. His eyes were fixed on the ground, scanning for the next target. Then, with deliberate precision, he shouldered the rifle, his body tensing as he took aim. Another crack split the air, and I followed his line of sight, just in time to see a snake¡¯s body ejected from its place as it met the momentum of the round. The man didn¡¯t pause to admire his work. He moved over a few paces, scanning the ground again, before raising the rifle once more. Each shot was purposeful, each kill necessary. The tall grass swayed gently in the breeze, but the man¡¯s movements were the only thing breaking the stillness of the field.

    Behind him, a small, weathered shack stood like a silent witness. Its wooden planks were blackened with age, some so worn that gaps had formed between them, or they were missing entirely. The shack looked as though it had seen better days, standing faded against the backdrop of the wide-open land. It was older than the man, a relic from another time, and now it watched over him as he continued his grim task.

    He never stopped, never hesitated, just kept moving, kept shooting, as if the very land depended on it. The rifle cracked again, echoing across the field, and the man stepped forward to do it all over again. Snake corpses filled the field like a graveyard, their bones the only remnants to signify they were ever there.

    I looked around¡­ unsure of what was happening. There was nothing else around as far as the eye could see. There were only open fields, some of grass, some wheat, some of dirt with equally spaced rows plowed through them. I didn¡¯t feel right; something was wrong. This place wasn¡¯t normal.

    I walked slowly to the man. As soon as I got close, he took one last he took one last shot with his rifle, ending another snakes'' efforts. He looked up at the sun and wiped his forehead. He looked about my size, strong, light brown hair and blue eyes, although he looked like he was in his forties.

    ¡°Hard work, isn¡¯t it?¡± he suggested, without looking directly at me.

    I was confused, ¡°Shooting snakes?¡±

    He looked down at the ground and began to laugh to himself with a smirk.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on? Where am I?¡± I asked. He had to know something.

    ¡°You want something to drink?¡± he asked inquisitively. His mood and tone were too lighthearted for the situation.

    He turned around and walked over to a short, fat log he was using as a table. He had a big pitcher of iced tea and two glasses sitting there. He grabbed the pitcher, filled both glasses, then came back and gave one to me.

    He drank from his glass, let out a tired sigh. ¡°Lots of work to be done,¡± he said, looking out into the one field that was thick with wheat. ¡°Sit, please,¡± he motioned to a set of two logs just behind us. They were sitting around a circle of stones about four feet wide that had a little fire burning in the middle.

    I followed his movements over to the logs. He sat first, waiting for me, so I sat down a few seconds later. I had no clue what the fuck was going on. He seemed nice enough, but for obvious reasons, I knew the whole place was off. Eventually, I just said fuck it. What could happen? I didn¡¯t have control of the situation.

    I took a drink of the tea, and you know what¡­ it was good. It reminded me of my mom¡¯s from when I was younger. I felt oddly relaxed in the strange place.

    He reached down beside the log, where he sat and grabbed a few snake corpses beside him and tossed them into the fire. The fire blazed through the dried husks, only to subside seconds later until he put another few into the firepit.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you have a lot of questions, Sam,¡± he breathed in between drinks.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said obviously, still waiting for some kind of explanation.

    ¡°Shoot¡­¡±

    ¡°Umm¡­ well first off,¡± I tried to gather myself. He was too calm about the whole thing. ¡°Where am I? How did I get here? And how do you know my name?¡±

    ¡°These are the fields¡­ sort of a¡­ place between places. I¡¯ve been waiting here for a very long time. Well¡­ relatively. Time moves slow when you¡¯re alone, and don¡¯t got much to do but this,¡± he motioned over to his rifle. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you. I know everything about you,¡± he said, almost thankfully.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± I still didn¡¯t understand. ¡°How did I get here then?¡±

    ¡°You died¡­¡± he waited for my response, staring into me hard.

    What? Did I die? That wasn¡¯t possible; at least I didn¡¯t think it was possible. It had been my dream at one point. I¡¯d been shot countless times, stabbed, run over, mauled, poisoned, and anything else I could imagine as a way to end my existence. Was it going to be at the hands of some witch¡¯s fire, or was it the poison? Maybe Phineas¡¯ attack was more substantial than I realized.

    ¡°I died?¡± I couldn¡¯t make sense of it.

    ¡°Well¡­ in a certain way. Normally you would have walked away from that fire without any real harm, but it was time. You were ready. He could sense it, so he brought you here,¡± the man said, grabbing for his glass to take another drink. He looked like he was weighing his words carefully as he spoke.

    ¡°He?¡± I asked. ¡°Who are you talking about? And time for what?¡± I asked cautiously. The hairs on the back of my neck moving slightly. It was odd. That hadn¡¯t happened in a while¡­

    He put his glass back down and stood from the log. He walked forward towards the dirt field. ¡°Look out there, on the horizon. Tell me what you see.¡±

    I followed him to the edge of the field and gazed out at what he was pointing to. When my eyes focused in, I saw him.

    The dark, cloaked figure from the visions, the voice that spoke to me, the one who was there the night I was killed. Just as he stood on the jagged rocks as the monster chased me down and killed me. It was him. He was out in the fields walking in between the columns of soil, throwing seeds out into certain spots along his slow terrifying walk. I could sense his power all the way from where I was standing. To be in his presence was petrifying, feeling the force that emanated from him made me feel as helpless and insignificant as an insect. I could feel the power growing; it grew, and grew, and grew. I felt like he was staring right at me from out on the horizon. I felt my skin start to vibrate, and my ears begin to ring and hum. It felt like the whole world was crashing down on top of me. I felt pressure squeezing me, locking my lungs in place so I couldn¡¯t breathe. I felt impending doom.

    Then¡­ it stopped.

    Relief came, and everything was normal. It was quiet. I looked out on the horizon again, and he was gone. No sign he was ever there.

    I bent over, kneeling as I tried to regain my strength and my breath. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°That¡­,¡± he paused, reverently ¡°is who gives you your power.¡±

    So many things flooded my mind. I remembered the first time I saw him, standing above me on the rocks as I ran for my life, standing behind the monster as it sunk its teeth into my neck, killing, and taking my old life from me. He was there from the beginning. He gave me visions. He gave me the names, but why? Also, if that was the person pulling strings¡­ then who the hell was this guy?

    ¡°Who are you supposed to be?¡± I asked.

    ¡°My name is Jon, and I¡¯m here to teach you.¡±

    ¡°Teach me what?¡±

    ¡°What you are, and what you¡¯re meant for,¡± he said.

    ¡°And how do you know what that is?¡± I asked, confused, and a little angry.

    He half-smiled before he spoke, ¡°Because I am you. I used to be you. I¡¯m the one that came before you. I¡¯m the one that turned you¡­¡±

    It took a second to process everything he said. I felt the swell of rage build inside of me as the realization came. If he was telling the truth, then he was the beast that night. He was the one that took everything from me. It rose quickly, my teeth gritting harder with each passing second as my furry swelled.

    I dove at him with all my strength. I was aiming my hands for his face. I was going to kill him, but I never felt our bodies collide. I hit the ground and slid through the grass and dirt. I jumped up and looked around for him, and he was still right there. I ran and charged at him again, swinging my fist into his head, but when I should have connected, I fell to the ground. I didn¡¯t hit anything, making the momentum throw me into the dirt again. He was like a ghost. I couldn¡¯t touch him. I just lunged again and again, attacking a ghost that couldn¡¯t be touched.

    I was covered in dirt, winded from the rush of exertion. This place made me physically tired. I heaved and huffed on the ground for breath. I was fucking angry, confused, and in agony. I didn¡¯t understand anything. I just laid there, face in the dirt. Why me? Why did I have to go through this?

    As I lay in the grass, I started thinking about Caydee, Vicky, my family, and even my new family. Autumn, Carter, Eleanor, and all of the Chasses were my family as well. I wanted to be with them, all of them. I felt the tears fall from my eyes as I tried to choke the emotion down. I just wanted my life back. I clenched my fists into the earth beneath me and screamed in a rage that had been swelling in me since the first time I had to leave my family. My throat felt bloodied and raw after pushing so much force in one violent outburst.

    Jon was silent for a few moments. He didn¡¯t speak a word, almost like he knew exactly what I was feeling, and knew that no words would help.

    ¡°I am sorry, Sam¡­ truly,¡± he said sincerely.

    ¡°Then why did you do it?¡± I pleaded.

    He was silent for a moment, looking into the fields, ¡°It had to be you. I never knew when exactly I would find you, but I knew your name. He gave it to me long ago. He¡¯s the one who chose you,¡± he said, speaking of the cloaked figure.

    ¡°Why me?¡± I said, rolling over and sitting up in the dirt.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°This burden, this curse is the hardest thing for someone to bear. What we become, what we turn into, is a creature that hunts and feeds on the deaths of others. Your only need is to kill. The only thing that will satisfy the beast is to kill. But,¡± he assured, ¡°it isn¡¯t for nothing.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. ¡°How can we be anything other than killers?¡±

    ¡°Oh Sam, we are much more than that. Every name you are given, every vision you see, all of it comes from him.¡±

    ¡°So¡­¡± I was angrily looking for answers, ¡°who the hell is he supposed to be?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not ready for that yet,¡± Jon answered. ¡°But what I can tell you is that there are things in this world¡­ people, beings, creatures that become so powerful that they cause an imbalance. They can escape beyond the natural order of things and throw off the very balance of the physical world. They tip the scales in the wrong direction. The scales have to be balanced.¡±

    ¡°What does that have to do with me? Why do I have to be¡­ this?¡± I asked angrily.

    ¡°You are his tool in the physical world. He can¡¯t interact in the physical world. He can only affect change from here,¡± he said, motioning out into the vast expanse. ¡°He sets things, events, people into motion here in the fields, and lets them grow and play out on their own. He cannot physically enter the world himself¡­ not anymore.¡±

    I looked back out into the fields and saw him. I could feel his power again, except this time, it didn¡¯t overwhelm me. I watched him pace slowly through the distance. God only knew what he was truly doing, the things I couldn¡¯t see that he was affecting, and the events and people being changed and set in motion. But what was he? How was he doing it?

    ¡°I¡¯ve had the responsibility for five hundred years. The man that turned me did this for centuries before I was ever born. There have been others like us for a very long time,¡± Jon said.

    ¡°I have spent every moment of the last two years trying to figure it out,¡± I said under my breath, but I knew he could hear me. ¡°What am I? What are¡­ we?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to tell you a story. It was told to me, in this very spot, over five hundred years ago.¡± He sat back down on the log and motioned for me to sit.

    I came back to my log and sat, but I was barely hanging on mentally. It was all too much to process.

    ¡°There was a time, long ago, when people got too powerful and could, literally, escape death. The Mayans are the prime example of this kind of imbalance. Certain people in their civilization knew how to gain power and survive by unnatural means. They made contact with something else, in another place by means of a dark ritual and power. While they kept on living, the scales stayed out of balance, and powers on earth grew too strong and unruly. The natural order was turned on its head. He had to find a balance¡­ he needed a way to maintain in the physical world, to hunt down the ones who had escaped their fate. Yet, he can never fully enter our world. If he were to go into the living world¡­¡± Jon took a moment to shake his head at the thought, ¡°No one would survive.¡± He looked out to the figure, walking through the fields. The dark shadow lingered on the horizon. ¡°That¡¯s when he created his first¡­¡±

    ¡°First what? What are we?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not like anything else you¡¯ll ever see. We were created solely for one purpose¡­ to hunt and kill anything that escapes the natural order and grows into power beyond this world. Beings that can sense and hide from their fate are among the most powerful in the world. Yet, we couldn¡¯t be just another beast. He wanted something different. He wanted something more powerful than anything that still roamed the earth. So, he used his own power to transform a human man into a creature, born of death. We don¡¯t have a name¡­ usually, those that see us in our true form don¡¯t live to tell anyone. The names I have heard are born of fear¡­ and terror. Demon, monster, wraith, beast, the list goes on and on. The oldest I ever heard was from the village of a beast that came long before me. A legend scarcely told by an ancient culture came up with a name after they witnessed annihilation at the hands of one of our kind. It was Latin¡­ De Manu Mortis.¡± His eyes turned black as he said the name. ¡°Roughly translated it means Hand of Death.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ that¡¯s what I am?¡± I asked out loud, not to him but more to myself.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s just a name created by someone who saw some terrifying shit. There¡¯s nothing to compare us to, nothing to call us. We were never given a true name. We never needed one. You¡¯re the only one in the world,¡± he said. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know all the answers. My predecessors might have known more than me¡­ but I stopped searching for those answers long ago.¡±

    I was stuck on what he said first. ¡°But, you said that you were the one who turned me¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ I was.¡±

    ¡°What¡­¡± I looked at his black eyes, confused. ¡°How can there only be one of us¡­ we¡¯re both standing right here.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the beast now. My time has ended, it¡¯s time for me to rest¡­ finally,¡± he said, looking to the sun above.

    ¡°Rest? You turned me over two years ago. I don¡¯t understand¡­ You¡¯ve been around this whole time? You let me kill all those people? Why?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been here since the night I turned you, waiting in the fields. You have been the only one in the living world,¡± he explained. ¡°And we needed you to kill, to reap evil souls in the world so you could grow in strength and power.¡±

    ¡°So, I wasn¡¯t an uncontrollable monster. I was killing for a reason?¡± This shook my heart and soul. I thought I was something else, just trying to survive. Knowing that I killed men to grow my power sickened me. I didn¡¯t want to be stronger, and I didn¡¯t want to kill. I hated killing. ¡°Maybe all those people didn¡¯t have to die¡­ maybe it was my craving for power that convinced me it was an acceptable price to survive.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think that way, Sam. That will only lead you down another dark path that you don¡¯t want to go down, trust me.¡±

    ¡°But I killed them. I sought them out, hunted them down and killed them¡­¡±

    ¡°Every single person you killed; every murderer, every rapist, all of them were meant to die. You never knew that you were being guided to them, but their death was meant to come,¡± he explained.

    ¡°Why¡­ why was I supposed to kill them?¡±

    ¡°To murder someone, to take a life requires a sacrifice in oneself. When you kill someone in cold blood, you are taking a life that wasn¡¯t meant to end. The scales are out of balance,¡± he looked back to the fields, reverently again, towards the cloaked being, ¡°and he has to find the balance. He could have taken care of them from here and kept the balance, but he guided you, in the fields, to help you grow. He opened your eyes and let you see the evil in the world, to sift through the innocent until you found your victims. He needed to know that you were ready before he gave you your first name. He needed you strong before he sent you towards the beings that eluded their deaths.¡±

    It took me a moment to accept what he was saying. If it was the truth, it was easier to accept than what I thought. I hoped it was the truth.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± I looked around, ¡°I don¡¯t see anyone else.¡±

    ¡°I had to stay here, in the fields, until you were ready. Just in case.¡±

    ¡°Just in case what?¡±

    ¡°If you weren¡¯t ready, then I would have had to come back. I would have to continue until he found another.¡±

    ¡°So, he can find another?¡± I asked eagerly. This was my chance, my escape. The death that I wanted was close.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you want that, Sam,¡± he said, cautioning me.

    What could be worse than this? However, I was still nervous to ask, ¡°Why?¡±

    He was silent for a moment, looking at the ground between us like he saw something. Then he looked out in the fields. When I looked out in the rows of dirt, I saw the figure standing closer than before, staring into Jon. They were communicating silently, talking somehow about what I had just said.

    Jon turned back to me, ¡°There are things I need to tell you before I answer your question.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, anxiously awaiting a release from this life.

    ¡°First, everything has a life, and everything has a death. It doesn¡¯t matter if you are a human, a vampire, witch, gypsy, werewolf, or any kind of creature. There is a beginning, and there is an end to all life. The only thing different is the lengths of times that are granted. Vampires think they are immortal, but they are not. They have very long lifespans while they drink the blood of others, but they too will die. Werewolves live very long as well, but they too will die. They are all the same, only they age and die in different strides. However, all manner of creatures, including humans, have cheated death. There are ways to see things, ways to bend the rules, but they aren¡¯t natural, and they have consequences. You¡¯ll sense them, you¡¯ll hunt them, and you¡¯ll wipe them from the earth. He will take care of the rest, and send you to someone if needed.¡±

    I didn¡¯t think even the Chasses, Wicklows, or Talbots knew any of this. Hell, it seemed like the vampires themselves didn¡¯t realize this truth. No one did. Everyone would die, even the so called immortals.

    ¡°Second, this life¡­ is hard. The things you will have to do, the way you will have to live, and the craving for death won¡¯t go away. You will always have a need to kill. It won¡¯t be easy. You¡¯ll outlive everyone you know; friends, family, loved ones. It¡¯s inevitable. However, don¡¯t make the mistake of thinking that being alone is better than losing someone close to you. I made that mistake for a while in the beginning, unfortunately.¡± I could see memories playing behind his eyes, making him see some dark times in his long life. ¡°You¡¯ll be walking in this world for a very long time. Find someone, something¡­ anything to make it more bearable. These hunters that you¡¯ve come to know, you¡¯ve grown to care for them. They¡¯ll make things easier. They¡¯ll give you something to live and fight for in your darkest days, when you feel the power of the monster, that he has put in you, clawing to be set free. It does have a will of its own¡­ you must be strong. There is a reason there is only one¡­ when there used to¡­¡± Jon looked away, back into the fields to the ominous figure. He seemed lost in thought. So was I.

    Dark days? I hoped I never had to experience what he was referring to. I just wanted him to finish, so I could figure out if they would truly set me free and let me die as I should have. I didn¡¯t want to kill anymore. I didn¡¯t want to live any longer, not the way I had been for the past two years. I wanted to look down on my friends, my family, the Chasses, and¡­ Caydee. I wanted to watch her grow, live, love, and make her way through life. I thought that the only way that was possible was for me to die. I had to be free from this curse.

    ¡°Third¡­¡± he spoke back up again after glancing away from the figure that held his gaze. ¡°This is very important. Keep your secret very close to you. Only share it with the ones you must. Your secret is your power. Your enemies won¡¯t know what you are, they won¡¯t know how to stop you, and they won¡¯t know you even exist. Not until it¡¯s too late. If others discovered you, it could hinder previously laid plans. They could trap you in places you don¡¯t even know exist yet, places you¡¯ve never seen. Old magic exists that can hurt you in ways you¡¯ve never imagined.¡± He looked to be in pain as he continued, ¡°Even keeping the secret from the ones you love might be best. It might save their life, but that is for you to decide.¡± Something must have happened to him, or to someone he loved. ¡°Remember these things in your walk.¡±

    ¡°Why are you telling me all of this? Is there a way out of this life or not?¡± I asked angrily. ¡°I don¡¯t want this life! I don¡¯t care if you think I¡¯m ready!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sam¡­ for what you will have to face,¡± he apologized. ¡°But there will be a way for you to escape this life. It is coming soon, very soon, Sam. I wish that it wasn¡¯t this way, but it¡¯s his will. You¡¯ll go back¡­ you¡¯ll get up off the ground and walk straight through that hellfire towards Mucia. You¡¯ll kill her, of that, I am sure.¡±

    Jon slowly turned and walked over to his rifle and grabbed the weapon from the stump, where he had planted it. He looked like he was about to continue the work I had interrupted. He grabbed the long wooden handle with a solid grip.

    I felt a powerful pulse from where I stood, some kind of supernatural force that emanated from deep out in the fields where the cloaked man had stood. Jon looked down at the ground for a few moments and never said a thing to me. He looked like he was mouthing words, silently talking to someone.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± he asked, coming to stand in front of me.

    ¡°How will I know when the moment comes?¡± I asked, terrified I¡¯d miss my only way out.

    ¡°Trust me¡­ you will know when it is upon you. I am sorry, Sam.¡±

    I hoped he was right. I couldn¡¯t miss it. I had to make the right choice. I just wished I would know what I was supposed to do.

    ¡°Before you leave¡­ I need to impress something on you.¡±

    ¡°What,¡± I asked hurriedly, ready to kill the witch and escape this life.

    ¡°What we do, what the beast is meant for, I used to think was a curse as well. But¡­ not just anyone can perform the task that has been set out for us. You have an unbending will. You always have, even since you were a small child. You are relentless. If something is hard, or it makes you stumble, you never stopped. You kept moving no matter how hard it got,¡± he said. ¡°I saw you your whole life. I watched your tenacity as you grew. I started to watch you, and your family. Family is important Sam¡­ enjoy them¡­ while you can,¡± he added randomly. ¡°Once I knew your name and felt the relief of this burden approaching, I started to think of it differently.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Someone must keep the balance on earth. If we don¡¯t, if he doesn¡¯t have someone to balance the scales, then life as everyone knows it would be changed drastically,¡± he urged. ¡°Think of all the innocent people in the world; your loved ones, your friends, Caydee¡­¡± He let that sink in for a moment. ¡°If we don¡¯t make the sacrifice, if we don¡¯t take up the burden, those like Mucia will run wild and unchecked. The lives of those you love, and all the other innocents of the world would suffer. You can help them. That¡¯s how I¡¯ve seen this burden ever since I knew you were coming. It¡¯s a selfish view because you¡¯re relieving me, but that doesn¡¯t change the truth. You are needed.¡±

    I nodded as he spoke. His words weighed more heavily on me than I thought they would. It made me start to think, even though I knew I would selfishly choose relief if I could.

    ¡°Believe it or not,¡± Jon laughed at a memory, ¡°we¡¯ve met before.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I scanned memories for him.

    ¡°Yes, the day I came for you. I planned to take you the moment I saw you, but I had to meet with you first. I had to speak with the person I was going to pass this great responsibility off to, before I killed you.¡±

    ¡°When?¡± I asked, still sifting through what I remembered of my old life.

    ¡°The night I came for you, I watched you from outside of your house. I couldn¡¯t kill you without talking to you first. So, I followed you to a gas station. I walked inside as you were standing in the back. I came up and struck a conversation with you. You were going to,¡± I cut him off.

    ¡°A cookout. My family¡¯s cookout the night I went missing,¡± I remembered, his face¡­ his name. ¡°Jon,¡± I could see his face in the back of that gas station.

    ¡°When you told me where you were going, I couldn¡¯t take you. Not there. I wanted you to at least have one more night. One more good memory to hold onto after your new life started.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what to say.

    ¡°I am sorry,¡± he apologized, but only for what had to happen. He knew what he was doing and what we were meant for. He had to do it.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, staring at the ground. I meant it from the bottom of my heart. Jon had done me a service that he didn¡¯t have to provide. It meant something deep to me, because I looked back on that night often¡­ in my hardest moments.

    He gave me a quick nod, ¡°Good luck, Sam,¡± and then he reached out and touched my shoulder.

    I felt a searing pain shoot through every inch of my body as soon as he touched me. Everything went white, and I was gone.

 Chapter 29 - Fallen (Carter)

    We scrambled out of the Suburban just as the garage door clanged shut behind us. The Wicklows were already at the front door, practically bursting inside, their movements hurried and uncertain as they rushed to help however they could. Eleanor leaned heavily on me; her grip tight as I half-carried her through the garage side door.

    Only the prime members of our extended family returned to our house to help us with Eleanor. Most of Jane¡¯s pack returned to their own home out in the Rockwoods. The Wicklow family dispersed, however Bartley and Patrick were linked to us and not leaving. Once inside, most everyone stayed out of the living room where we were setting up Eleanor. The Bartley had knowledge and ways to help that were unique to the gypsies, so he¡¯d work with us hand in hand.

    I practically dropped El onto the couch, quickly propping her leg up on the coffee table. In the harsh light of the room, she looked even worse¡­ pale and weak.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move, babe. I¡¯m getting our kit,¡± I said, my words almost tumbling over each other as I rushed to the next task.

    I left her on the couch, sandwiched between Autumn and Clara, as I bounded through the house. I found one of the kits in the supply closet by the laundry room, and then returned to Eleanor.

    ¡°El, we need to take your pants off so we can see the whole wound,¡± I heard Clara say.

    Jane, who was standing off to the side, came over and grabbed Eleanor¡¯s pants. Her fingers shot out sharp claws that shredded the fabric as she ripped off an entire side of El¡¯s pants.

    "Let me see," I muttered, dropping to my knees in front of the couch, my hands trembling as I reached for her leg. The sight that greeted me sent a wave of dread crashing through my chest. "Damn, that''s deep," I breathed, staring at the puncture wounds oozing with something far too thick and dark to be normal.

    Bartley hovered beside me, his face pale. "It almost looks..." His voice trailed off, fear widening his eyes as he met my gaze. "Does that look infected to you?" he whispered, barely audible, like saying it out loud would make it true.

    My heart pounded in my ears as I studied the strange, sickly hue spreading around the wound. "I don''t know... I¡¯ve never seen anything like that before," I stammered, my voice rising in panic. "It¡¯s too fast to be an infection, right?" Inside, I was praying desperately, clinging to the hope that this wasn¡¯t as bad as it looked. She had to be okay. She had to be.

    "Jane!" Frank called out, his voice tinged with the same fear clawing at my gut. "Have you seen anything like this before?"

    Jane hurried over, her expression shifting to one of deep concern as she bent down to inspect the wound. Her fingers hovered over the jagged punctures. Her brow furrowed as she noticed the thin, black lines spidering out from the edges. She leaned in closer, sniffing the air around Eleanor¡¯s leg in quick, shallow breaths, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± she murmured, uncertainty dripping from every word. Her face was tight with indecision. ¡°Let me make a call.¡± Without another word, she rushed out the front door, her phone already pressed to her ear.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay, Mom, don¡¯t worry,¡± Autumn said, her voice trembling as she clung to Eleanor¡¯s side, her eyes wide with fear.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetie... we made it, we¡¯re okay,¡± Eleanor whispered, pulling Autumn into a shaky embrace, trying to soothe her daughter even as her own voice quivered with uncertainty.

    "We didn''t all make it," Autumn whispered, her voice trembling, each word laced with barely controlled fear.

    "I''m so sorry, Autumn," I began, the guilt gnawing at me. "We couldn¡¯t have known... Phineas, he was too strong. Annabelle was caught in the middle of it all. And Martin, Charles... I¡¯m not even sure if they..." My voice faltered, the worry tightening around my throat like a vice.

    "We just left them there," Autumn''s voice broke, her eyes wide with terror. "What if she was still alive? What if he was still...?" The words hung in the air, too horrible to finish.

    Clara quickly stepped in, her hand gently squeezing Autumn''s shoulder, trying to steady her. "Honey, she was gone. You saw the fire, we all did. It was too much, even for her. And... if that was Sam, there was nothing we could have done. You saw him, Autumn, he was..." Her voice trailed off, unable to find the words, the fear in her eyes matching Autumn''s.

    Sam¡¯s presence was a factor we couldn¡¯t even dive into yet. We had too much to focus on in the moment. It would have to wait.

    "I''m so sorry, Autumn..." Eleanor¡¯s voice, weak and quivering with pain, cut through the tension. "I never wanted that for Annabelle, or Sam... even if he was... something." Her voice cracked, the weight of it all too much to bear. Her eyes were leaking a greyish fluid now. It almost looked like tears, but they weren¡¯t.

    I gritted my teeth and gripped my wife¡¯s hand. ¡°Shhhhhhh¡­ just rest, don¡¯t move or talk too much, El. We¡¯re gunna get help.¡±

    "It''s okay..." Autumn interrupted, her tone suddenly flat, eyes hardening as she fought to shut down the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "We don''t have to talk about it now." Her jaw clenched as she forced herself to focus. "Let''s just make sure you¡¯re going to be okay."

    "She''s right, El," I urged gently, seeing the exhaustion in Eleanor¡¯s eyes. "Lay back and get some rest. We''ll take care of your leg, I promise." But the fear in my chest wouldn¡¯t let go, gnawing at the edges of every word.

    Bartley knelt beside El, his movements deliberate as he placed his hands gently over her wounded leg. His face was a mask of concentration, the usual look in his eyes replaced by a steely resolve. "I need space," he said firmly, his voice calm but commanding. He glanced around the room, making sure everyone understood. "And I need silence. Everyone, give me a few minutes."

    The room stilled as his words hung in the air, the urgency of the situation pressing down on all of us. People exchanged nervous glances but quickly stepped back, retreating to the edges of the room. We all knew there was nothing we could do. This was no conventional wound. This was something unknown.

    Bartley fell silent, his eyes closing as he began to breathe slowly, rhythmically. The room was so quiet that you could almost hear the steady cadence of his breath. His focus was absolute, a deep intensity radiating from him as he tapped into abilities that none of us could see but all of us could sense.

    The air around him seemed to change, growing still, heavy, as if the entire room was holding its breath alongside him. Lights throughout the house flickered, just barely, every now and then as we waited. Every eye was on Bartley, every hope pinned on whatever he was about to do.

    <hr>

    It had been quiet in the house for a few hours. We cleaned the wound on Eleanor¡¯s thigh and then bandaged her up as best we could with the supplies we had. She was lying back on the couch, covered up with a big quilt to keep her warm and comfortable. Jane had run an I.V. into her arm and was pumping her full of some kind of anti-venom. Her contact had told her about it over the phone earlier in the night. She left for a little while and then returned with the anti-venom. It did seem to slow the spread, and I hoped it would be enough. I prayed harder to God than I had since we lost our son, Allen. She had to be okay. If not¡­ I didn¡¯t know if I could survive it. I didn¡¯t know if I could be the strong father that Autumn would need. It was all too much. A lifetime of loss is what I seemed to be accumulating.

    Autumn never left her mother¡¯s side. She felt like she couldn¡¯t let Eleanor out of her sight. She slept on the couch beside Eleanor, scared for her mom. We didn¡¯t know what the spikes were, but they were out, and it seemed like Eleanor would be fine. She had stabilized, thanks to Bartley and Jane.

    Jane had left through the trees behind the house to speak with her family. She had to check on everyone after the chaos at the Wicklow house. We all split up so fast once we hauled ass out of there. Also, something about Eleanor¡¯s leg gave her an uneasy feeling, and she needed to talk with the elders of her family. The older ones that had become too weak in their age to stay alphas, but still powerful in knowledge. Frank, Clara, Bartley, and I waited in the library, anxiously, for her return.

    Eleanor seemed stable, not convulsing in her pain as she was in the beginning. As soon as she passed out on the couch, the house had calmed down, and we were able to think about everything else that had happened.

    Everyone had slowly eased into the library as we spoke about what we saw. Even Autumn had moved from Eleanor¡¯s side after hours of cradling her mother, trying not to wake her. She needed to know what we all saw in the chaos.

    ¡°Do you think that thing was Sam?¡± Frank asked in disbelief. ¡°I didn¡¯t get a good look at it before he transformed with the way I was frozen in that witch¡¯s spell.¡±

    ¡°It was him,¡± I answered. ¡°I saw his face. His eyes¡­ they were solid black, but it was him.¡±

    ¡°How is that possible?¡± Bartley asked.

    Everyone else looked very confused.

    Patrick asked, ¡°I thought people couldn¡¯t be brought back from the dead. They have to be turned before they die, right?¡± He looked to Autumn, ¡°I thought you shot him right in the heart with a silver broadhead?¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°I did,¡± Autumn answered angrily.

    We all nodded, that was the general consensus in our world. Vampires, werewolves, and any kind of supernatural had to be living when they are initially turned or cursed. If the heart stops before the transition is complete, they¡¯ll die. It happens a lot when vampires try to convert someone after they have fed on them too much. There is not enough blood for the heart to pump. With how much blood Sam had trailed behind him after falling off the roof when Autumn shot him¡­ he shouldn¡¯t have been alive.

    ¡°He should be dead,¡± Patrick stated.

    ¡°Actually, there are ways¡­¡± Bartley said, grimly.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Wayland asked from the corner of the room, quietly.

    ¡°Witches, sorcerers, and the like, can reanimate the dead. It¡¯s called necromancy. It doesn¡¯t happen often, and it takes tremendous power to do so. A power that only a few beings in this world possess. You¡¯re essentially reaching out and pulling a soul back into the world and then jamming it into a body, unwillingly. Even still, they can¡¯t be who they once were. They are usually nothing more than shells of their former selves. If that was Sam, he didn¡¯t seem to act that way. He also couldn¡¯t have as much strength if his soul were fighting to escape a dead body that it was being forced back into.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of that before¡­¡± I questioned my friend¡¯s words.

    ¡°Neither have I,¡± Clara joined in.

    Bartley let a laugh break his serious face, ¡°Of course you haven¡¯t. Sometimes the best way to stop something is to forget that it exists. Our family burned all our diaries that contained information about necromancy after the Grimwoods were banished.¡±

    ¡°The Grimwoods,¡± Frank asked, ¡°they were into necromancy too?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and many other dark paths. This was one of the many reasons that they were banished from our joined families. However, there are a few texts that refer to their practices. They have been passed down through our generations so the eldest of our family will know what kind of threats that they, and other clans, could pose.¡±

    ¡°But Sam wasn¡¯t that way,¡± Autumn stated, getting everyone back on subject.

    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right, sweetie,¡± Clara responded. ¡°Shit¡­ he wasn¡¯t like anything in our bestiaries.¡±

    ¡°Then how was he there, if he was dead, then how was he there fighting that chimera?¡± she asked emotionally. She couldn¡¯t process what had happened, and what we had seen.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Autumn,¡± Clara said softly. ¡°Maybe we were wrong, and he survived that night on the roof. He was obviously a lot stronger than any of us thought he was.¡±

    Wayland spoke up, ¡°He held our silver like one of us. He knocked Martin clear across that parking lot. It¡¯s not a stretch that he could have survived the arrow and the fall. We know nothing about his nature, so we can assume nothing.¡±

    ¡°What else did anyone see, after he showed up?¡± Frank asked, hoping someone else had information. I did.

    ¡°Flashes, everything was fast, violent. It was hard to focus on one thing before something else happened. But he was¡­ transforming into something else. He didn¡¯t slow down, and he wasn¡¯t scared. He knew what he was doing,¡± I said, nodding to myself as I recounted it in my head. ¡°When we all turned back and started firing on them, did you see the chimera? He hid out of sight from the bullets. Sam didn¡¯t. He let them rip into him like it was nothing.¡±

    ¡°Exactly how he was since that first night we met him,¡± Wayland offered.

    ¡°So, are there more of these things out there,¡± Jane asked aloud. ¡°More like him?¡±

    Frank spoke, ¡°He looked way too powerful. Look at how that chimera handled two older vampires, and Sam fought him toe to toe. If there was more of him, I think someone would have noticed by now. At least written something down, somewhere.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Maybe that is true, but maybe they don¡¯t leave survivors. No one to tell of their existence. Just like us¡­¡±

    ¡°Dad¡­ are you sure it was him?¡± Autumn spoke lowly, hoping for a misunderstanding. She cared for Sam, but she didn¡¯t know what it would mean if he was¡­ that thing.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Autumn, but yes. I saw his face before he changed. He was the monster that we were looking for.¡± But I had to say, ¡°But I don¡¯t think he was the threat we thought he was.¡±

    ¡°He told me¡­¡± Autumn said softly, some kind of realization hitting.

    ¡°What did he tell you, honey?¡± Clara asked, trying to pry the information out of the emotional Autumn.

    ¡°I told him that we knew he wasn¡¯t telling us everything, and he could trust us,¡± she replayed the conversation in her mind. ¡°He asked me what I would do if I found out something about him; something that would change everything¡­¡± her eyes teared up.

    Autumn shakily eased down into a chair in the library and bowed her head, staring into the floor. She braced her hands on her head, thinking. Her hair dangled in front of her face, masking her tears from us. Patrick sat down beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder, unsure of what he could do or say in the situation. I was shocked by his empathy. Then again, he never liked Sam. This was probably just for Autumn.

    ¡°It¡¯s not what we thought, though. He wasn¡¯t some mindless beast,¡± Wayland spoke from the corner.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked for the group.

    ¡°He knew what he was doing. I could see it. I saw the people he went after. He was inches from Mercy, but he kept just out of range of Annabelle. He knew who he was hunting. I think it was still him, fully in control of himself,¡± Wayland offered. ¡°Plus, if he was a monster, why did he show up? Why did he intervene in a situation that could end in his own harm? He came for a reason.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see that,¡± I said in confusion.

    ¡°That¡¯s why he was never scared¡­¡± Frank realized. ¡°He had no reason to fear the things we fought, not with the kind of power he was packin¡¯. That first night with the vampires, that time out at Janes house,¡± he nodded to himself. ¡°He wasn¡¯t scared of them at all.¡±

    ¡°But what was he?¡± Bartley asked.

    There were a few moments of silence before anyone spoke. We all had so many new questions that no one could answer.

    ¡°The bestiaries¡­¡± Autumn said, finally looking up from the floor. ¡°He read through them constantly¡­ it always seemed like he was doing more than reading, like he was looking for something,¡± she suggested. ¡°Maybe he didn¡¯t know what he was¡­¡±

    ¡°So¡­¡± Wayland thought for a moment. ¡°After all of that time with him¡­ this is all we know?¡±

    My brother-in-law seemed ashamed of himself. Wayland always seemed to pride himself on seeing things others didn¡¯t, but he, just like the rest of us, had nothing.

    ¡°It sure seems that way,¡± I said.

    Just then, Jane flew into the entryway at breakneck speed, which made me uneasy, and sprang into action. She said nothing as she hurried into the living room beside a sleeping Eleanor. We all followed her with multiplying questions. Frank was the first to ask her anything.

    ¡°What did they say?¡±

    ¡°Turn the lights on and let¡¯s get her up,¡± Jane said in a rush.

    She looked worried, which scared the shit out of me.

    ¡°What did they say?¡± I asked again.

    Frank ran to the switch and snapped the lights on. When the light filled the room, I almost had a panic attack. Eleanor¡¯s face was so pale she almost looked like a ghost.

    ¡°It¡¯s not good, Carter,¡± Jane said, apologetically, as we knelt around the couch.

    ¡°El¡­ El¡­ are you okay?¡± I grabbed her shoulders and shook her awake.

    Her eyes slowly pried themselves open, ¡°What¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡± she asked tiredly.

    ¡°Let me see her leg,¡± Jane ordered.

    She forced herself in and pulled Eleanor¡¯s sweatpants down to see the wound. As soon as her skin was visible, we saw large streaks and slashes of black, infection-like coloring inside her skin. It started at the wound on her leg and branched out down to her foot and all the way up to her chest.

    ¡°What is this?¡± I asked in a panic.

    ¡°Venom,¡± Jane responded quickly. ¡°Eleanor, I need you to look at me. I need you to keep your eyes open, okay¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m too tired¡­¡± Eleanor spoke slowly. Sweat beading down her forehead and around her eyes.

    My head was pounding in rhythm with my heart. My adrenaline was coursing through my veins, terrified of what was happening to my wife, to Autumn¡¯s mother.

    ¡°El, look at me,¡± I spoke loudly to her.

    ¡°Can you do something? Don¡¯t you know what it is?¡± Frank asked Jane.

    ¡°The barb looks like the stinger of a manticore. It¡¯s unmistakable. That¡¯s why I left, I didn¡¯t think that it could actually be from that man, but I had to be sure. I checked in our bestiaries and compared it to the drawings my father put in there.¡±

    ¡°Manticores haven¡¯t been around for ages, how is that possible?¡± Bartley asked.

    ¡°Phineas,¡± she answered, ¡°it¡¯s the only thing that makes sense. Chimeras can take on the abilities of different creatures once they devour them. Somewhere along the line, he must have claimed a manticore and taken on its power. It looks exactly like the drawing from our bestiary.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so how do we fix her leg? This shit looks like it is spreading fast,¡± Frank asked.

    Jane¡¯s expression broke me. Then her words felt like a knife being stabbed into my heart, ¡°Manticore venom is¡­ fatal to any kind of creature.¡±

    ¡°What¡­¡± I choked out. ¡°What are you saying?¡± My panic scared Autumn. She was looking to me for strength, but she just saw me falter.

    ¡°Carter¡­ I¡¯m sorry. There¡¯s nothing we can do.¡±

    ¡°Mom!¡± Autumn sobbed. She pushed through everyone to get to El.

    ¡°Sweetie, what is it?¡± Eleanor spoke quietly through her haze.

    ¡°Get up, Mom, you have to get up,¡± she began crying uncontrollably.

    I felt my eyes start to pour tears, and my throat felt tight like I was choking. My jaw was clenched so hard I thought my teeth would crack.

    I grabbed El¡¯s hand and sat next to her, leaning towards her face, ¡°El¡­ look at me.¡± I barely got the words out.

    She struggled to open her eyes but finally connected with mine, ¡°Carter, what¡¯s wrong? Did something happen?¡± she asked. ¡°Is everyone okay? Where¡¯s Allen¡­ is he alright?¡±

    I started crying harder, matching the intensity of Autumn¡¯s emotion. I clutched Eleanor¡¯s hand as tight as I could and held it to my chest. She wasn¡¯t in her right mind. The venom was decimating her from within.

    ¡°Yes, sweetie. Everyone is okay,¡± I assured her. I wanted her to have peace in this moment.

    ¡°Good. Can we just¡­ stay here¡­¡± her words were getting farther and farther apart. It seemed harder for her to string sentences together.

    Then, I saw the black lines of poison thickening around the neckline of her shirt. I could actually see the venom spreading in her veins. I could see her dying.

    ¡°Sweetie, look at me,¡± I begged as her eyes faded in and out.

    ¡°Carter¡­ I¡¯m so tired¡­¡± she repeated herself, weakly.

    The room was silent, but I felt like the world was collapsing all around me.

    ¡°Mom¡­ please, no¡­¡± Autumn whimpered.

    ¡°Autu¡­ it¡¯s okay¡­ I just need to close my eyes¡­ just for a few minutes.¡±

    ¡°Mom¡­¡±

    ¡°El¡­¡±

    Her head leaned over on the couch where she lay. I felt her hand go limp in mine. My heart felt like it stopped beating.

    It didn¡¯t happen¡­ it couldn¡¯t. I let off my grip on her hand¡­ then Eleanor¡¯s hand slipped out of mine and fell down the side of the couch to the floor. She didn¡¯t move. She never moved again.

    ¡°Eleanor¡­¡± I begged.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening¡­¡± Autumn sobbed in utter disbelief.

    ¡°Eleanor¡­ El, honey, please answer me¡­¡±

    There was no answer, only silence.

    <hr>

    About an hour had passed, and no one left the room, no one said a word. Autumn had finally stopped crying. I stopped crying. We sat in silence, in sorrow, and rage.

    Eleanor¡¯s body lay motionless on the couch, not moving an inch since I let go of her hand. I hadn¡¯t touched her since I let her go. I was scared to touch her, to feel life gone from her body; from the body I knew. She was right in front of me¡­ but nowhere near me. She was gone, forever.

    ¡°Dad¡­¡± Autumn said. As soon as she spoke again, her sobs returned to full force. ¡°Mom¡¯s gone.¡±

    I burst into tears again. The tears were hot. It almost felt like blood pouring down my face. I grabbed Autumn and pulled her in tight, scared to let go like I might lose her too.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, baby¡­ I¡¯m so sorry,¡± was all I could say. I kept saying it over and over.

    Autumn kept repeating the same thing, ¡°What do we do¡­ what do we do?¡±

    I looked down at my wife¡¯s body and fell further into despair as I held my daughter. My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed to my knees. Autumn followed me down to the ground, kneeling in front of her mother. I couldn¡¯t wait, I had to touch her one last time. I reached out and moved my shaking hand to Eleanor¡¯s face.

    Autumn placed her hand on her head, running her hands through her mother¡¯s hair. She broke down even further, and so did I.

    Everyone moved in on us and knelt around Eleanor¡¯s body. Everyone was crying. Everyone reached out and grabbed one another, trying to find comfort from the pain.

 Chapter 30 - Meeting Fate

    When I forced my eyes open again, the searing agony of the hellfire greeted me, as if I had never escaped. The inferno still raged above, a relentless, whirling vortex of torment. My flesh continued to wither, blackening as it was consumed by the flames. My entire body screamed in agony, each nerve aflame. The memory of that brief reprieve seemed like ages ago, mocking me. I had never truly left this inferno; only my mind had been wrenched away, dragged to the mysterious fields of the in-between. Now, I was back, completely on fire, and fully aware of the horror I¡¯d returned to.

    My arms... they were no longer mine. The muscles and tendons of my forearms and hands were laid bare, every last shred of skin seared away, leaving nothing but raw, exposed tissue that built my monstrous frame. The sight was unbearable, but the pain... the pain was a beast all its own that was gnawing at my sanity with every agonizing second. It clawed its way through every fiber of my being, building in intensity until it became a living thing inside me, screaming for release. It was too much. I couldn''t endure it any longer. I wanted to die, to be free of this merciless, unending torment.

    Then, Jon¡¯s words slammed into my mind, a lifeline in the chaos. There was a way out. I just had to finish this, end it all by killing Mucia. Then¡­ I''d be free. The thought burned brighter than the flames licking at my flesh.

    I did what had become second nature over the years and I shut everything out. The pain, the agony, the unbearable heat was forced into the back of my mind, and I willed myself to rise. My body screamed in protest, every nerve being tortured, but I didn¡¯t care. Left then right, left then right. Each step was a battle, demanding every shred of willpower I had left. The red fire raged, relentless, trying to tear me apart. But I healed too quickly, trapped in a cycle of endless torment as my flesh was stripped away and rebuilt in an endless loop of agony. My innermost tissues and bones too strong to be burned up. The monster¡¯s strength rooted deep in my core.

    But I kept moving. I had to. The sea of blood-flames began to thin, and through the wavering heat, two figures emerged. Mucia... she was there, her attention shifting from Annabelle¡¯s still-breathing form to the figure passing through her vortex of hellfire. She turned slowly, her eyes locking onto me, and I knew this was it¡­ the final stretch. All the pain, all the suffering, it would end here. Not just this night, but my whole life. It would all finally be done¡­ finished. I just had to keep moving. I would make sure it was her who burned, not me, or my friends.

    "What?" Mucia¡¯s voice cracked with rage and disbelief. "No! How are you still alive...?" The confusion in her eyes twisted into something darker. It was fear. The fear she had always cloaked with her power now clawed its way back to the surface. A tremor inside her mind shook her words. "No one can survive the fires of hell!" she screamed, desperation seeping through the cracks in her facade. Her focus sharpened with a ferocity that made the crimson flames blaze even brighter and hotter, casting an ominous glow around us.

    The whole world seemed bathed in red from my point of view.

    "Everyone burns. Everyone dies, except me!" She poured every ounce of power into amplifying the heat that ate at me, tearing away more of my dwindling form.

    I was all exposed bones and charred meat, but I was still standing. The power of the beast inside not yielding to her, no matter the pain we endured. The heat was beyond intense, my blood boiling within the charred remains of my body. I could feel time slipping away. I had to end this, now, before she found a way to twist the situation to her advantage, before she could escape my wrath and force me to hunt her down, prolonging this cursed existence.

    In a ragged and twisted noise, my inhuman voice spoke out through the flames. "You die now¡­ Mucia!" my voice thundered from within the inferno, a monstrous echo that reverberated through the flames. The words were a promise, a death sentence, as inevitable as the fire that raged around us.

    As soon as she heard her name spoken, the fires that she had conjured all faded and ceased to exist. Within seconds, the flames that tore at my body were gone. This allowed my flesh to start regenerating my monstrous form in all its glory. Tissues and muscle looked like it crawled out from within me as my body knitted and pulled itself together. It was silent. The roars of the massive pillar of fire no longer howled through the burning field. I stood tall, towering over the witch and the gypsy as a mangled charred corpse of a monster.

    ¡°How¡­ how do you know that name? Nobody knows that name?¡± She was shaking with every word. She trembled and fell backward with each step that I took towards her. Speaking her true name stunned her in a way that made her, somehow, defenseless.

    Annabelle stayed where she was standing from the very beginning, never stepping out of place. She watched as I dominated the witch with my relentless pursuit, making her run and stumble towards the woods as she scrambled for an escape. She ran like a child would from a dark room, one hundred percent with everything she had. She had no fight in her anymore. She only wanted to escape, but her powers seemed to have left her.

    I let her get a running start. I let my body heal for a moment longer. Then the chase began.

    I counted in my head. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three¡­ two¡­ one.

    She was mere feet away from the trees when I exploded from my readied stance. My gigantic form reached her in two seconds after I bounded and plowed through the field. As soon as I was on top of her, my body cast a shadow in the moonlight that totally eclipsed her. She was standing in the darkness of my form when my hands came thundering down on her. My talons sliced, cut, and tore the flesh from her bone. She flailed in her death throes but was as successful as an antelope in a lion¡¯s jaws. After speaking her real name, without her powers, she was as much of a threat to me as a normal human being.

    I wanted to relish in this kill. I wanted to do it slowly. I wanted her to pay for all the things I saw her do in the visions. However, I knew the effect of her true name wouldn¡¯t last forever. If I drug it out too long, she may recover her power and escape my grasp.

    I lashed out with a powerful swipe that separated her head from her shoulders. Mucia¡¯s severed cranium was rolling through the scorched field with so much momentum that it almost made its way to Annabelle. Again, I wasn¡¯t sure how much she could come back from, so she received the same treatment as Phineas. Head¡­ removed.

    I stepped away from the corpse that used to be Mucia and stood up in the moonlight. I took a deep, calming breath. She was gone. Mucia was dead. Then, the rage that had built in me took over, and I dove back on top of her. I tore her body to pieces. I swiped with both hands as I shredded her body into thousands of bloodied pieces. I ripped, pulled, gutted. I shredded her form into an unrecognizable heap. She now lay scattered in the charred hellscape she had created. The beast was satisfied, but the rage was still infecting my mind. The last part was for me. For what she had done to my friends¡­ for hurting Eleanor.

    I did what they wanted, and now I just needed the moment Jon had spoken about. When would it come? I needed it to be now.

    I heard quiet footsteps behind me. I spun in a rush to see Annabelle.

    ¡°No one ever saw you coming,¡± Annabelle spoke with measured words, lowering herself to her knees just behind me. She moved slowly, carefully. She had all my clothes in her hands. She carefully placed them in front of her before slowly backing up a few paces. ¡°I see a lot of things, but whenever I tried looking for things near you¡­ all I saw was a void. You blot out all things around you, Sam.¡±

    She knew who I was. At this point, it didn¡¯t matter, but since this was the first time we had met, it just surprised me. The kill had calmed me enough to contain the beast. I slowly eased back into my usual form, popping and compressing my dense muscles back into their human shape, before Annabelle¡¯s very eyes. The poor woman had to watch me grotesquely transition between forms. She looked uneasy as she watched. Swallowing nervously a few times.

    I was standing on scorched earth, completely naked. I reached down and sifted through the clothes that had survived enough to be wearable. My pants were barely hanging on, and my shirt had turned into a vest after almost ripping in two.

    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± I asked her. ¡°Eleanor got hit by his venom. I¡¯m not going to be here for much longer, and I need to make sure she¡¯s going to be alright.¡±

    Annabelle closed her eyes for a moment before speaking, ¡°I know, dear. Everyone is at Carter and Eleanor¡¯s house.¡±

    ¡°Can you see her? Is she okay?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she responded, ¡°I can see her. And¡­ she will be okay, but¡­ you have to go to them.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. The way she said I ¡®had¡¯ to go was unusual. Like she was telling me to go.

    She explained, ¡°I can see them there now, and Eleanor is not alright. If I look ahead, there is a void in time. I cannot see what happens during that void. It¡¯s like that time doesn¡¯t exist. The only times this has ever happened to me is when you are in those timeframes that I look into. It has been happening ever since I started reaching out, looking for the beast causing all of the strife in our world. It also happened when you first met the Chasse family that night. I don¡¯t know why this is, or what it means, but I do know that on the other side of this void, Eleanor is okay.¡±

    She looked into my still blackened eyes to see if I understood. Honestly though, at that point, I still wasn¡¯t sure what she was waiting on me to see. I think she thought I knew more about myself or my nature than I did. I think maybe she was looking for some kind of answer.

    ¡°You are the void. You must go to them,¡± she explained.

    She didn¡¯t say anything else. She didn¡¯t need to. I knew what I had to do. I tore through the woods just feet away from where we stood, leaving the charred property behind me. I didn¡¯t know what was going to happen, but I believed Annabelle. I wanted to see them all one last time before I made my choice anyway. So, if my presence would somehow help or heal Eleanor, then I would be there, no questions asked. I would do anything for my new family now, just as I would for my family back home in Texas. I¡¯d do whatever it took to keep them safe. So, I ran to them.

    I stopped at the old factory, diving into the river to wash the blood and ash from my completely healed body. I got new clothes as well. I still had a few sets of pants and shirts tucked away in the rusty structure. I didn¡¯t want the last time I would see them to be with me half-naked, covered in what looked like shredded rags, blood, and ash. I was only there for about two minutes before I had cleaned up and put on real clothes. I sprinted to the hole in the wall and leaped from my old home. When my feet hit the ground, they bounded into stride without faltering. I used the woods and the tunnels beneath the city to get to their house in the fastest way possible. The map of the tunnels floated in the forefront of my mind as I clawed through subterranean passageways one minute, and then leaped from tree branches the next only to find the following entry point back underground if it gave me a faster route. Dawn was approaching, and I had to make sure ordinary people didn¡¯t spot me.

    After ripping across the city like a bat out of hell, I had arrived. I slowly approached the familiar house, making sure I was stealthy enough not to be noticed by the two vampires, or the alpha werewolf, that I could sense just outside in the back yard. I could hear voices. Everyone was there at the backside of the house as the sun crept over the horizon. Even Martin, and the one I suspected to be Charles. The last immortal that I hadn¡¯t killed. Lucky for him he seemed peaceable and trying to help my friends. It seemed like everyone had made it out of that chaos alive. I guess I was enough of a distraction that they could help the rest of the gypsies and hunter¡¯s escape.

    Yet, something was off. I could hear¡­ crying. Audible weeping was coming from the back patio. It was deep, sorrowful weeping that didn¡¯t find its way into this family¡¯s emotions that often. Autumn was there, sitting in a patio chair just off to the side by herself. She was curled up, holding her knees as she sobbed. I could see the makeup running around her eyes. It looked like she had been crying long before I arrived. Then I saw Carter, who was just as visibly crumbling. Frank sat beside Carter, one arm around his shoulder and the other in Jane¡¯s hand.

    That hit me hard. To see Frank so emotional, but holding it together to be there for Carter¡­ My stomach felt like it was dropping out of my insides.

    Martin and Charles stood at the edge of the shadows, keeping clear of the sun¡¯s rays as they grew across the surface of the yard. They watched in silence, knowing nothing they could say would help. They just stayed silent and were there for the family. I could see Martin¡¯s eyes. Blood was pouring out of them in a way that looked like tears. He was just as wrecked emotionally, but he was keeping it inside.

    For a split second, I wondered what was going on. Then I realized it. Eleanor wasn¡¯t with them. My eyes turned back to pitch as the rest of my senses heightened. I scanned the house for every scent, every sound, and any sign of life. I found nothing, except for one smell. The same smell I knew better than anything else. It was death.

    As I quietly stalked around the house, the weight of dread pressed down on me with every step. I reached the living room window, the thin gap in the curtains just wide enough to offer a glimpse inside. Through the delicate white linen drapes, I saw Eleanor. My heart pounded harder, each beat a desperate plea for her to move, to show some sign of life. But she lay there, still like a stone, no pulse, no breath¡­ nothing. She was gone. I was too late...

    Why... how? The questions flooded my mind, but there were no answers. My head began to spin, disoriented by a reality I couldn''t grasp. Annabelle had said she¡¯d be okay. She¡¯d seen her, reassured me she¡¯d make it. But she was wrong. How could she be so wrong.

    I replayed every moment I had with Eleanor, each memory sharp and vivid, now tinged with a sorrow so deep it threatened to consume me. She was more than a friend; she was a motherly figure, a presence I had never fully appreciated until now. She took care of everyone, always so kind, so welcoming. She had a family who adored her, a future she deserved to live. But she was snuffed out, killed, and discarded by that worthless piece of shit, Phineas... I didn¡¯t know what to do. For all the strength I possessed, the monstrous power within me, there was nothing I could do. No ideas. No plans. Just the crushing realization of my helplessness. I couldn¡¯t fix it.

    A numbness crept over me, but it wasn¡¯t the familiar kind I¡¯d used to fight the beast within. This was different. This was the numbness of a world shattered, of lives irreparably changed. The world would never be the same again. My world, their world, the family¡­ it was all broken.

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    And it was my fault. I had brought them here, led the immortals out of the depths beneath the city. They came from the pits below, hunting the dark-eyed creature that had been killing conspicuously. They came because of me. And now Eleanor was gone because of me. I stood there, paralyzed by grief and shame. The weight of my actions crushing the air from my lungs. The enormity of my failure settled over me like a suffocating shroud, and I realized, with devastating clarity, that nothing would ever be right again. I failed them¡­ my friends. I got too close, used them, and they paid the price.

    As I stood outside of the living room window, staring through the glass like a statue, frozen in sorrow, I noticed something. The latch to the window was undone, and it sent my mind running. I didn¡¯t think it through, I just started moving.

    I lifted the window so quietly it was like the wooden frame was made of air. No sounds escaped the wood as I slid it up into the top half of the frame. I lifted my form through the small square opening, and inside of the living room. I was a ghost, and nobody knew I was there. Everyone on the back patio continued in their grief, unaware of my presence. Even the older vampires and the alpha werewolf were ignorant of me.

    I stepped up to Eleanor and put my arms underneath her cold body. As soon as I touched her, I started tearing up. Feeling her body, lethargic and lifeless, knowing that she was taken from the world was enough to send me into a tailspin. But I couldn¡¯t. Not in their living room. I started forming a plan in my mind. It came to me almost instantaneously, but I didn¡¯t doubt it. I didn¡¯t know anything beforehand about what I was going to do, but I knew I was going to get her back. Everything I had planned would be successful because I would make it be so.

    I gracefully crept back out of the window, while carrying Eleanor¡¯s body. I was silent, but steady in each step as I paced away from the Chasse house. The anguish and agony of seeing and feeling her this way was too much to deal with. But I couldn¡¯t alert them to my presence. Otherwise, they would stop me. So, I just watched my feet. Left then right, left then right to the nearest tree line. Then, I disappeared into the crooked trees with her. I carried her gently, making sure not to harm her body any further.

    I stared at the black lines that traced out corrupting pathways beneath her skin. The venom from Phineas utterly destroyed her insides. She was beyond repair from the human world, maybe even the supernatural world. But I had to try¡­ I couldn¡¯t just leave it this way.

    After about half an hour of walking through the trees, I came to the water. The Missouri River flowed in front of me. It was exactly what I had imagined. Deep enough for what I had planned. Again, I had never done this before, but I knew it would work. I couldn¡¯t explain it, but I was running on pure instinct. It would work. I would make it work.

    I stepped into the chilling waters, wading into the water to almost shoulder level. I looked into Eleanor¡¯s familiar face one last time.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said to her. ¡°I¡¯ll make this right,¡± I promised her, but it was meant more towards myself.

    I stepped deeper into the waters, completely submerging us both. The current took us, no longer held in place by the strength of my legs. We floated underwater, carried by the current of the river. I pulled her in closer to me, no longer carrying her perpendicular to myself, but I held her firmly to me. I pressed her cheek to mine as we tumbled through the depths of the churning waters.

    I could feel my breath running out. Yet, the struggle never came. As soon as I felt the burning inside of my chest as my lungs screamed for oxygen, I took a full breath of water. The rushing water filling my lungs was calming. I could feel everything starting to fade and go black. However, my grip was tight around Eleanor. I wouldn¡¯t let her go.

    Then, I heard the words, ¡°Fall!¡±

    The overwhelming voice of the ominous entity ordered me to die. He was pulling me from the physical world.

    Then, like I had only blinked, I was somewhere else. The churning waters of the river no longer bit into me. We were brought somewhere else. At first glance, I didn¡¯t recognize it, but I was in the fields. It was different this time. The skies weren¡¯t blue, and the sun wasn¡¯t shining. The sky was filled with a grey hue, littered with storm clouds that cast lightning bolts down into the surrounding fields of dirt.

    I stood there, disoriented, trying to piece together the fragments of my thoughts, when I felt a presence beside me. I turned, and there she was¡ªEleanor. But something was wrong. Her eyes were wide, her face twisted with panic the moment she saw me.

    "Sam... what happened? Where are we?" Her voice trembled as she looked around, confusion written in every line of her face. The surroundings were foreign to her, a landscape twisted and unfamiliar. She knew something wasn¡¯t right.

    Before I could answer, Jon emerged from the old, weathered shed. He was about twenty yards from where we had appeared. The shed had once been a place of respite for Jon, filled with sweet tea, rifles, and piles of dead snakes. But this time, there was none of that¡­ only an eerie stillness in the fields. An approaching doom in the form of a black invading storm. Jon didn¡¯t speak. He just watched us, giving us a moment before he approached.

    "Eleanor," I said, pulling her into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. "You¡¯re alive... I knew it!"

    She pushed back slightly, just enough to look up at me, confusion clouding her eyes. "What are you talking about, Sam? What¡¯s happening? How did I get here?" Her voice was laced with fear, and as the memories began to surface, her face shifted from confusion to horror.

    "Sam! Sam, you¡¯re okay!" Her relief was palpable, but it was tinged with something darker. "I¡¯m so sorry for what happened. We were scared... we acted too quickly. Autumn... she never meant to hit you with that arrow. It¡¯s been eating her alive. She¡¯s barely spoken since it happened. We just didn¡¯t know what you are, or what you wanted¡­"

    "It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s okay," I murmured, trying to calm her down, holding her as if she might vanish again. "I¡¯m not worried about that right now."

    But Eleanor wasn¡¯t done. Her eyes darted around, noticing the strangeness of the place, the storm brewing overhead. "What¡¯s happening? Where are we?"

    I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. "Look... Eleanor, you got hurt, but it¡¯s okay. I think I can make everything right."

    Her face paled as the memories came flooding back, the realization dawning in her eyes like a shadow creeping over her soul. "What...?" She faltered, the last moments of her life replaying behind her eyes. The stingers piercing her leg, the venom burning through her veins. It was all there, raw and vivid in her expression. "Oh no... Sam, did I...?" Her voice broke. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth and she began to cry, the weight of it all crushing her. The thought of leaving her daughter and husband behind tore at her, and she collapsed into me, her sobs muffled against my chest.

    I didn¡¯t say anything for a few moments. I just let her get through it. It was a lot to be hit with¡­ in a place like this.

    The storm crackled above us, the sky splitting open as the rain began to pour. Jon stepped forward, his voice low and grim, "It¡¯s time, Sam."

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± she asked after seeing Jon appear.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, El. We¡¯re going back,¡± I said to her. Then I turned my attention to Jon, ¡°I need you to bring her back. She died because of me. If I had never been in their lives, she would have never been anywhere near that chimera. She would have never been hit.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t just work that way, Sam. You cannot just give life back that was taken. The scales would be out of balance. Then he¡¯d send you.¡±

    ¡°Sam¡­ who is that? What are you talking about?¡± Eleanor looked at me as she pleaded for answers. She jumped at the crack of a lightning bolt as it ripped through the fields.

    ¡°No¡­ you have to. This isn¡¯t right!¡± I yelled. ¡°I¡¯ve given up everything for you¡­ for him,¡± I pointed out into the vast fields in the distance.

    Jon looked uneasy, listening to me release my innermost emotions. The ones that I had been holding in for so long.

    ¡°I gave up everything. My wife, my twin brother, my whole family¡­ and my daughter. Now it¡¯s my new family, Eleanor¡­¡± I started to get choked up. ¡°No. I won¡¯t do it anymore. I don¡¯t care what name he gives, how many times he gives it. I won¡¯t do his work. If you won¡¯t help me this one time¡­ I¡¯m done.¡± I meant every word. I didn¡¯t care what happened to me. I was getting Eleanor back to her family. ¡° I will use every ounce of strength I have to spite him and you!¡±

    Jon let me rant. He didn¡¯t interrupt me, and he looked apologetic. Behind his old eyes, he looked like he had seen all of this before. Maybe in his own life.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t given everything¡­ not yet,¡± he warned. ¡°There is a way, Sam. Like I said before, you have a choice.¡±

    My choice? Was this it¡­ but how? I felt like I was in one big game where I was just the piece that was being passed around by all of the players. I had no control, merely along for the ride.

    ¡°There is only one life at stake¡­ yours,¡± Jon said.

    ¡°Mine?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yours. You see,¡± he spoke carefully, really trying to make me understand, ¡°Eleanor has already died. Her life has been claimed in the physical world. Once a life is claimed, it can never be returned,¡± he told me. ¡°But it can be bargained for. It can be traded.¡±

    ¡°What? How? What do I have to do?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do anything,¡± he said. ¡°That comes after the trade is made. The trade¡­ would be for your life.¡±

    I felt a cold chill pulse through the front of my face, ¡°My life¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes. Your life is still on the table. You were never claimed in the real world. You were only transformed. You never died because of the monster. Once I transferred it into you, it healed you faster than you were dying.¡±

    I was silent as I processed everything he said. I was still alive. I never died, and I could go back to everything that I had given up. I could be normal¡­ without this monster clawing away at my insides. I was silent for longer than I realized.

    ¡°That is the deal. You¡¯ve brought Mucia to her final rest, balancing the power that has been tilted for so long. For this, he is willing to offer you your life back. Or,¡± Jon offered, ¡°You can trade your life, for Eleanor¡¯s.¡±

    Eleanor had been silent up until this point, ¡°Trade your life?¡± She was confused but keeping up with the conversation. ¡°Sam¡­ what happened to you? What is he talking about?¡± She reached out and grabbed my forearm, just above my wrist. ¡°You have a daughter?¡±

    I started tearing up again. I had a daughter, a wife, a brother, sisters, and parents. I had it all, and I gave it up to protect them from what I had become. I loved them with all my heart, just as I loved Eleanor, Autumn, Carter, and the rest of the Chasses. For everything they gave me once I thought I could never have it again. Nothing was different. The people I cared about needed to be protected. I would protect them. I would save them just as I always had. Fuck the consequences.

    After a few moments of silent thought, I spoke to Eleanor.

    ¡°You¡¯re going back, and I need you to do something for me,¡± I started.

    ¡°What¡­¡± Eleanor, too shaken and confused by everything to process it all at the moment.

    ¡°Tell Carter that I¡¯m sorry for not telling him the truth. And¡­ tell Autumn, everything I felt¡­ everything I said, it was all real.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure what was going to happen, or if I¡¯d ever see them again. ¡°I thought I could learn from you guys, figure out what had happened to me¡­ what I was¡­ am¡­¡±

    She couldn¡¯t respond, she was so choked up. She just nodded as tears filled her sad eyes.

    ¡°Are you sure this is what you want, Sam? Once you make the trade¡­ there¡¯s no going back. You will stay the same until you pass the burden off onto another. No other chances to leave this life. The beast will be yours permanently, until he gives you the name of the next bearer,¡± Jon said, waiting for my response.

    I couldn¡¯t say the words. So, I just nodded.

    ¡°Very well,¡± Jon said, turning back towards the old shed. He walked away and stepped inside the small decrepit structure again.

    ¡°What does this mean?¡± Eleanor asked.

    Jon returned with his rifle from the last time I was in the fields. When he flipped it over in his hand, I saw strange symbols carved into the stock of the weapon. Unrecognizable from anything I had ever seen. They looked ancient, forgotten. He stepped forward, right in between us.

    ¡°Place your hands on the gun, both of you,¡± he ordered. ¡°Then, he will perform the trade.¡±

    ¡°What is this,¡± I asked, staring at every detail of the old looking lever action rifle. It was much more intricate and detailed up close. Symbols, designs, engravings, and names littered the frame. Not just an old heirloom.

    ¡°This thing can take many shapes¡­ its more¡­¡± he thought hard about what he was going to say, ¡°symbolic. It holds a history as well.¡± Jon flipped it to point at a blackened series of letters carved into the wood near the trigger guard. It spelled, ¡®Jon Granes.¡¯ ¡°You¡¯ll learn more as you grow¡­¡± Jon left it at that.

    I placed my hand over strange symbols of the handle and stock as he handed it to me. I observed the detail more up close but was quickly cut off.

    ¡°Eleanor¡­ place your hands on Sam¡¯s,¡± Jon directed her as she stood there unsure of what to do.

    She was scared. Scared of the situation, the fields, and the presence that started stirring in the storm riddled land we were standing in. The ominous being was coming. The deal¡­ the trade was being arranged, and he was coming to make the bargain. I would¡­ die.

    ¡°Sam,¡± she said, ¡°thank you.¡± It was all she could think of saying.

    She placed her hand on mine, gripping me tightly and leaning in to hug me with her other arm. She squeezed me as tight as she could.

    ¡°So, she¡¯ll live, and I¡¯ll stay this way?¡± I asked, praying that this would work, and all of my prayers would be answered.

    ¡°She will live,¡± he assured. ¡°If you make this deal, and he sends Eleanor back, he is giving her your life. Your life is required to make this work¡­¡± he reminded.

    I knew the price. I had no escape.

    ¡°It is your life he wants. However, you¡¯ll have to give your life, but not as everyone else. He needs you as his right hand. You won¡¯t pass on, but you¡¯ll stay in this life, as the monster. Your chance to be free will be gone. You¡¯ll only be alive by the power of the beast that he has given you. As soon as it is gone, and you transfer it to the next, you will pass on. You will finally die.¡±

    This was my chance to escape the hell I lived in. My only way out was already slipping away. I had a split moment of selfishness take me over, wanting relief from this life, but it was short-lived. I thought of Eleanor, I thought of Carter and Autumn. My new family and new friends needed their mother, their wife, sister, and friend. There had been so much killing, so many bad things that I had done, that I never thought I¡¯d be able to do anything good again. I felt that this could be my last chance to do something that really mattered. It was a chance to do something right.

    ¡°It will be a great sacrifice, and you will bear a very heavy burden for a very long time,¡± Jon warned, ¡°but someone must receive the names in the physical world. Someone must become the monster.¡±

    I was scared, was this my fate? Was this what I was meant to become, to stay as forever? Did I still have a place in heaven, or would choosing this path condemn me to the place where I sent the evil I slew?

    I prayed silently in my mind; Lord, please help me. Is this what I am meant for¡­ my purpose? Or have I been made into something you won¡¯t recognize anymore? I need help¡­

    I hung my head and stared into the earth. I was scared. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ease my pounding heart. I opened my eyes and looked out into the horizon, through the vast fields. It was calming.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I answered. ¡°Send her back and take me.¡±

    Jon looked at peace as I answered. He looked to the sky and smiled. He pulled the gun from my grasp and took a long look at its intricate details.

    ¡°Thank you, Sam. You have no idea what this means for me,¡± he said. ¡°I have people waiting on me,¡± he said, looking up to the sky again. ¡°Sam, remember, this life is hard, but love makes it all worth it. I can tell you¡¯re already on that path with Eleanor and her family. Lean on them in the hard times, when the monster inside craves death. Don¡¯t live in seclusion.¡± He looked to Eleanor, ¡°Help him¡­ he¡¯ll need it.¡±

    She nodded through her tears.

    ¡°What do we do now?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Take the gun. It¡¯s yours now.¡± He readied it in his hand, ¡°It will send you back. Eleanor will awaken. She¡¯ll be alive,¡± he explained. ¡°And Sam¡­ listen for the names. No matter how much time passes without, there will always be more names to come. Yet, the beast inside will always hunger for death. Find the ones in the world that need to be stopped, to keep the beast strong, but under control. Be ready, protect your loved ones, and stop as much evil in the world as you can.¡±

    I nodded as the peace washed away from me, the moment setting in. The sentence to this life of killing finalized.

    ¡°Thank you, Sam,¡± Jon said again as he planted the rifle into the dirt in front of me. The barrel stuffed about ten inches into the ground. He turned around and paced to the fields. He only made it a few feet before he turned around, ¡°There¡¯s a lot more to learn about what you are. You¡¯ll figure out a lot about yourself as you walk the world. I haven¡¯t told you everything yet; you¡¯re not ready. But, one day¡­ you will be.¡±

    I watched him walk into the fields, making his way further and further to the end of my vision. When he arrived almost to the edge of the horizon, where the earth met the sky, the cloaked being appeared. The dominant figure met Jon in the fields. He stood there beside him completely motionless. God only knew what was happening out there. Then, just as fast as he appeared, they both vanished.

    Just then, I felt Eleanor¡¯s grip tighten. I looked over, and she was gone. It was like she was never there.

    I was alone in the in-between. I was the beast, the monster. There was no escape now. This was my life.

    I couldn¡¯t think about any of that, though. I had to get back, and I had to find everyone. I had to make sure Eleanor made it out of that river. No matter what was said here, at the end of the day, I didn¡¯t trust Jon or the figure that granted me this power. They held the cards, and I wasn¡¯t sure how much of any of this was true. I prayed it was, that Eleanor was okay. But a fear lingered in my mind. I wasn¡¯t the one in control here.

    I stepped up to the rifle, feeling the power within its old, hardened shape. I readied myself with a deep breath. I gritted my teeth and grabbed the handle. As soon as my hand gripped the rugged surface, everything went white. I was gone.

 Chapter 31 - Relief (Carter)

    Charles and Martin had made it back sometime after Eleanor had passed. They survived once Phineas turned his attention to Sam and made an escape. They arrived to see Eleanor, still and lifeless in the darkness of the living room. They were sullen and silent with us in the back yard.

    ¡°I don¡¯t sense¡­¡± Charles spoke out right before he vanished into the house.

    ¡°Charles?¡± Martin rushed in behind but was instantaneously back behind the house. ¡°Carter¡­ she¡¯s gone. She¡¯s not where we left her.¡±

    I got up as soon as he said the words. ¡°What?¡± I sprinted through the house to the living room, where I had last seen my wife alive.

    Everyone stormed through the house in a fury. When we came upon the last place where we saw her, all that was left was a few drops of tainted blood on the carpet. She had vanished.

    A quick flutter of hope teased across my mind; she was okay. Maybe the venom hadn¡¯t actually killed her, only put her in some kind of state. It left as quickly as it came.

    ¡°Someone else was here,¡± Jane noticed as she examined the cracked window on the front of the house. ¡°There¡¯s another scent that leaves through the window with Eleanor¡¯s.¡±

    We all followed Jane outside, except for Charles and Martin, who stayed in the shelter from the encroaching sun in the front yard. Autumn was right there with Jane and her family, hunting for some kind of clue. She had to have some sort of control in the situation. She hadn¡¯t felt in control like she usually did. None of us felt the same after the last few days.

    Jane shot out towards the woods, roamed around the edge of the trees, and then returned in a slow jog. She had bad news on her face.

    ¡°Both of their scents disappear at the tree line, Carter,¡± she apologized. ¡°I can¡¯t track her past there¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean you can¡¯t track them?¡± I angrily barked.

    ¡°Its like they just disappeared into thin air¡­¡± Jane couldn¡¯t explain it.

    I screamed in an angry fit, ¡°FUCK!¡± I paced through the yard just wanting something to hit. I wished I had someone in front of me that I could just let loose on. I started eyeing one of the Talbots standing in the yard. I didn¡¯t care that they weren¡¯t the enemy. I wanted blood. I needed to let it out.

    ¡°Carter,¡± Wayland¡¯s calm voice came from the front door. ¡°You need to come and see this,¡± calling us back inside.

    Moments later, Autumn and I walked into our secure room. Our security system¡¯s brains were in that hidden room. It was a secret room, and its existence wasn¡¯t known by the others outside our immediate family, until now. At this point, it didn¡¯t matter. What was left to protect besides my daughter? I wouldn¡¯t let her out of my sight.

    Clara was at the controls and had already pulled up the footage that would show what happened. She had the hidden camera looking at the majority of our living room. It looked directly at the back of the couch where Eleanor¡¯s body rested.

    ¡°Watch this window,¡± Clara pointed to the same window that had been opened. She clicked the play button, and my heart immediately sank.

    A figure was standing just outside of the window, for a moment, before slowly sliding it open. The person steadily stepped through the opening, silently. As we grieved in the back patio, the person moved like a wraith in the front of the house. We were never aware of his presence as he walked over to the couch, where Eleanor laid covered with a sheet. The large man stood directly in front of her, looking straight towards the hidden camera. His head was cloaked with a familiar hood, but we could still make out his even more familiar face in the darkness of the living room. It was Sam.

    ¡°Dad¡­¡± Autumn choked out. ¡°That¡¯s Sam. What¡¯s he doing with Mom?¡± She said, pointing into the screen. She was confused. Nothing about Sam made sense. He seemed like he was trying to help us at times but using us to his own end at others. Now, this¡­

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, sweetie¡­¡± Where was she? Why did he take her, what could he possibly need with her body?

    We watched it over and over. We kept hoping we would see something new every time we played it. The reality was that we were all just as fazed by this as we were by her death, and nobody knew what to do. None of it made any sense. We felt like something else had been taken from us. Even though Eleanor was already gone, it was still her body. She was always my wife. She was still Autumn¡¯s mother. We didn¡¯t get to say goodbye¡­ that was taken from us too.

    God only knew what Sam was going to do with her. We had never seen anything like him before, so we knew nothing of how he survived. I pictured him devouring my wife¡¯s body in that gigantic form¡­ it was too much. I had to literally shake my head to banish the thoughts.

    I watched him creep back through the window frame with her limp body in his arms over and over again. Why did he take her? Why did we have to keep losing family? First Allen, then Eleanor, now we wouldn¡¯t even get to bury her. I was angry, but more so I was scared. I kept looking to Autumn, like she was going to be taken away at any second. I kept picturing it happening in different ways; a vampire, an accident, even Sam. He seemed more intertwined in the supernatural world than any of my family was, and this has been our life since we were born. How old was he? Was he some kind of ancient creature that had been around for lifetimes?

    Autumn and I sat in the living room, right where Eleanor had laid. Everyone spread out around the house. We all just grieved separately, confused, and hungry for answers.

    <hr>

    It was almost eleven. The whole morning had drug by in a silent eternity. Autumn had fallen asleep beside me on the couch, laying her head on my shoulder. I was glad she could sleep and escape this nightmare. I wished I could just go to sleep, but I thought if I did, I¡¯d awake to find Autumn missing.

    My attention was grabbed by Jane, who was pacing straight to the front door. She looked like she was preparing to attack someone.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s here,¡± she warned me quickly, trying not to wake Autumn.

    Just then, there was a knock on the door. It was a weak but rapid knock. It didn¡¯t sound like a threat.

    I jumped up to prepare for whatever might come next. At this point, I had no clue what to expect. Autumn woke as soon as I jolted up from my seat.

    Everyone converged right in the living room as Jane opened the door. She had one hand on the door, and the other twisted behind her back, morphing into a deadly weapon that could flay you alive.

    As soon as the door opened wide enough, I connected eyes with the smallest and oldest of the Wicklows. Annabelle stood in our doorway, smiling earnestly at me. She didn¡¯t say a word for a moment. The gypsy almost looked like she was about to cry, just as we had been. Yet, hers looked like they¡¯d be tears of joy.

    ¡°I need to prepare you all for something,¡± she finally spoke.

    ¡°What is it, Mom?¡± Bartley asked. He had more questions, like how she made it out alive.

    ¡°Everyone needs to remain calm and let her regain her bearings. She¡¯s been through quite a lot,¡± Annabelle said as she turned towards her right.

    There beside her, leaning tiredly against the railing of our front porch, stood someone else. Annabelle guided her into view. There, right in front of our very eyes, was¡­ Eleanor. She was alive.

    I couldn¡¯t describe what I felt or how fast it came upon me. There she stood, soaking wet, covered in a towel to keep her warm. Her dark hair was all slicked back and still slowly dripping excess water from their ends. Her brown eyes were swelling with water that was about to break past the emotional dam that held them back. She looked just as confused as us, and even scared.

    As soon as we connected eyes, we both started crying. I blew past Annabelle and collided into Eleanor, who was coming at me just as fast. I squeezed her into me so tight I thought I was hurting her. It felt so good to touch her, to feel her. I never thought I would have this again. I thought she was gone¡­ forever. I kissed her on her lips, her forehead, her cheeks. I pulled her in as close as possible, probably making it hard for her to breath, yet she squeezed me just as tight, only more shakily. I felt someone clawing at us, to get into the tight embrace. Autumn had snapped out of the initial shock and had realized she wasn¡¯t still dreaming on the couch. Her mother was alive, right in front of her.

    We all three just stayed there together, holding on like if we let go, we¡¯d never see each other again.

    ¡°Come, let¡¯s get her inside,¡± Annabelle said. ¡°She¡¯s cold and wet.¡±

    Everyone slowly made their way in, unsure of what had happened but speechless over what they were seeing. It was really her. We were reunited. Everyone was together; the Chasses, the Wicklows, and the Talbots. Our entire extended family was there in our house. Everything was going to be okay.

    After we all calmed enough to return inside, we got her cleaned up, got her dry clothes, and sat her down in the living room. She sat in the literal spot that she had died, right in the middle of the couch.

    I still feared I would wake up. I started to think I fell asleep on the same couch right there with Autumn, and this would all fade away. Yet, here she was. It was all real. I wasn¡¯t waking up.

    ¡°What can I get you?¡± I asked Eleanor, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. I felt like I was treating her like she was made of glass, scared that something else would hurt her.

    ¡°Coffee,¡± she answered weakly, ¡°please.¡±

    I bounded into the kitchen to put some on to brew. I turned the corner to see Charles already pouring a cup. He handed it to me, ¡°Here, go back to your wife,¡± he offered it to me.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, gripping his hand gratefully.

    He was just like Martin. He cared for a family of his own, just like ours. I could see Martin gratefully gazing towards his creator as he tried to be of use to our family in this charged moment.

    El sipped the coffee as she warmed on the couch, her hands shaky and pale. Everyone had slowly spread out in the living room to give her space. Autumn and I stayed with her right on the sofa. Annabelle was seated just beside the couch, leaning forward out of her chair, keeping a watchful eye on Eleanor. She looked like she had a few questions of her own. We all had so many questions.

    Autumn, nor I asked anything. We just sat silently watching Eleanor. I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off of her. Autumn wouldn¡¯t let go of her mother¡¯s arm.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°What happened, Annabelle? How is this possible?¡± Clara asked.

    ¡°How¡­ I do not know. What happened? I can tell you some,¡± she spoke to us all. Everyone hanging on her every word. ¡°It was Sam. He brought her back,¡± she stated plainly.

    ¡°What? How?¡± Bartley was dumbfounded. ¡°Nobody can be brought back from the dead. We¡¯ve talked about this so many times, and we all know the rules. Even with necromancy, they aren¡¯t the same. They¡¯re just a shell,¡± he was almost arguing with himself. He couldn¡¯t believe it.

    ¡°Yet,¡± Annabelle gestured to El with both hands, ¡°here she sits.¡±

    ¡°How did you end up with Eleanor? Also, how did you survive?¡± Wayland asked Annabelle from the corner.

    ¡°Now that is an interesting question, Wayland. However, I am afraid that the answer is the same. It was Sam.¡±

    ¡°What happened? What happened to Phineas and Mercy? She would have never let you go,¡± Charles asked her.

    ¡°Well,¡± she began, ¡°if anyone is still behind on the details, that big, dark creature that we¡¯ve all been hunting; that was Sam the whole time. When he turned into that thing, there was nothing the chimera could do. Sam did to him what he did to you two,¡± Annabelle said, looking to Charles and Martin. A slight grin saying at her lips. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen so much power. The fire that Mercy conjured up was overwhelming. She kept me alive in its epicenter, if only just to watch everyone else die first, but I was safe there. After he killed Phineas, he walked straight into the flames. He was focused, never afraid.¡± She looked almost sorry as she spoke, ¡°The flames ripped him to shreds with every step, but he kept coming, overpowering the flames by sheer willpower. He was almost through when he finally fell to them. Mercy burnt him until his body was almost unrecognizable from what it was in the monstrous form.¡± Annabelle gave a sad look at the carpet as she remembered our old friend burning. ¡°Once she thought, for certain, that he was dead, she turned her attention to me. Then, he stood back up,¡± Annabelle recalled. ¡°It was¡­ horrific. His body was missing too much. He shouldn¡¯t have been alive. Yet, he stood back up all the same. He called out a name. It was her true name¡­ Mucia.¡±

    Charles and Martin looked to each other, connecting some kind of dots within their minds. It all reminded me of the story that Charles had told us from his childhood. The man that came with a name and then slaughtered his corrupted village.

    ¡°As soon as he spoke her name, she was powerless. He ran her down, toying with her for a moment, before destroying her. He healed fast, almost fully recovering before he finished with Mercy. Once he had ripped her head off, that¡¯s when I went to him. I spoke to him,¡± she said.

    ¡°You talked to him? What did he say?¡± Autumn asked, speaking for the first time since sitting on the couch beside her mother.

    ¡°Sweetie, it was me that spoke more than him. I knew that he needed to come here. I had seen Eleanor lying in this living room, days ago. I could feel that she was gone, that she would die. Yet, when I looked even further ahead, I saw her here, as she is now.¡±

    ¡°You knew this would happen,¡± I said deadpan. I felt an anger rising within me.

    Eleanor quickly grabbed onto me, ¡°Stop, Carter,¡± she weakly begged. ¡°I¡¯m okay now. It had to happen this way¡­¡±

    ¡°How? That doesn¡¯t make any sense. None of this makes any sense,¡± Bartley was struggling to make connections and accept what was happening.

    ¡°I am so sorry, Carter, but all of this was beyond me,¡± Annabelle apologized. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to try and interfere with making a change once I saw how it would end. I just had to play my part. Nudging events to produce our desired outcome is always a game of fine adjustments. Not being able to see the whole picture hampered my abilities to make adjustments. It was the time in between that clued me into what needed to be done. When I looked forward to Eleanor, I could sense that she had passed away, but then, there was nothing. I could see her body still here on the couch, but then everything about her just went away. It was like she didn¡¯t exist, not even her body. Not until I saw her standing on a riverbank, alive.¡± Annabelle worded what she said next carefully, ¡°In my entire life, I have never experienced something like this, except for in these last few months. It has been since we¡¯ve been on the hunt for this stray monster. Any time I looked forward to any of our futures, there would be these certain gaps in time that I couldn¡¯t account for. It was a blind spot. It happened every time I looked, specifically, for whatever had been killing in the city these past few years. To be honest, I thought my age was finally getting the better of my powers, as it has with this old body, but then I heard about a new hunter. When Bartley told me that you all had found another to join us, I looked for him. I wanted to see who he was. That¡¯s when things got interesting.¡±

    ¡°What did you see?¡± Frank asked, more curious about him than ever.

    ¡°When I looked for Sam, I saw absolutely nothing. It was just like the voids around the monster. When I looked into our family, I saw a patchwork of gaps in times and futures. If he was involved, I couldn¡¯t see any of you. You had me really worried in the beginning, sweetie. It seems that you were with him the most, for I saw you the least,¡± she said to Autumn.

    ¡°I was¡­¡± she remembered, sadly, as we were all still unsure about his status.

    ¡°So, I knew Eleanor was going to be killed by Phineas,¡± she said, placing her hand on El¡¯s knee, apologetically. ¡°I also knew that Sam had to come here, to you. He had to be here to block out that period. So, after he had killed Mercy, I made sure he would head this way and see that you had gone. That is all I did. If he would have come on his own, I¡¯m not sure, but I just nudged him this direction.¡±

    ¡°He took Eleanor, but where is he?¡± Wayland asked.

    Annabelle replayed the early morning events, ¡°I knew where Eleanor would climb out of the river this morning, reborn into our world. So, as soon as Sam disappeared into the woods, I got in my car and made my way to where I felt she would be. Then, I waited.¡±

    Nobody had really questioned Eleanor yet. She didn¡¯t look ready to talk much. Whatever had happened looked like it had taken a toll on her. Plus, as Annabelle narrated the events that took place, Eleanor looked like she was re-living it all¡­ or living it for the first time. I was unsure.

    ¡°I was only there for half an hour before I saw them,¡± Annabelle stated.

    ¡°Them?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. I saw Sam walking through the trees, carrying Eleanor¡­¡± she got emotional. I imagined her old eyes cried much harder in the silence of her car, as she saw Eleanor¡¯s body for the first time. ¡°He looked like he was talking as he walked towards the river. He was¡­ emotional. He should have spotted me in my car from how close I was as he walked by, but he never looked my way. He was focused¡­ like he knew exactly what he was doing, but¡­ I could see the fear in his eyes. Even still, he walked right into the waters until he was gone. They were both submerged, and I couldn¡¯t see them. I started to worry that maybe I had done something wrong, maybe she wouldn¡¯t come back as I had seen. I thought I made a mistake. But then¡­ i felt you.¡± Annabelle patted Eleanor¡¯s knee a few times.

    Annabelle finally started crying as she spoke. Eleanor got up suddenly, pulling away from Autumn and me. She squeezed Annabelle in for a long and emotional hug. So thankful that she had come for her there in those woods on the river.

    ¡°I felt you as soon as you came back out of that water,¡± she said, patting Eleanor¡¯s back. ¡°You crawled out of that flowing current downstream a little, so I got out and stumbled through those trees to find you. I brought a towel from home, and as soon as I set my eyes on her, I wrapped her up. She was wet and shivering, so I brought her back to my car.¡±

    ¡°What about Sam?¡± I asked. ¡°What happened to him?¡±

    Annabelle took a deep breath, regaining her composure as she parted with Eleanor, who came back to sit in between us on the couch.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He never came back up. We sat in the car for a few minutes as I felt outwards, up and down the riverbanks, for him. I could sense everything up and down that river, which meant he hadn¡¯t returned as Eleanor had.¡±

    Autumn started crying again. She sat silently by her mother, in tears at what we were hearing. She was happy that her mother was safe, yet so depressed about everything that had happened with Sam. Everything he had done for us, saving Autumn, helping us, and even now with Eleanor. Yet, our last interaction with him was what pushed him away.

    ¡°He¡¯s okay, sweetie. He¡¯ll be alright,¡± Eleanor spoke clearly for the first time. She seemed confident with how she said it.

    ¡°What do you mean, El?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s all still blurry, but,¡± she fought to remember, ¡°I saw him¡­ somewhere.¡± She shook her head, ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain.¡±

    ¡°Slowly then, Eleanor,¡± Annabelle eased her.

    ¡°I was there, with Sam. We were somewhere else. We weren¡¯t here anymore?¡±

    ¡°Here?¡± Clara asked.

    ¡°This world¡­ its hard to put into words. It looked like a farm¡­ or a field. It¡¯s all hard to remember, but I do remember standing there with Sam. He was talking to someone else. There was this feeling that came on me as soon as I woke up there. It made it hard to focus.¡±

    ¡°What did it feel like, Mom,¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°It was like,¡± she struggled to find the right words to describe it, ¡°like impending doom. It felt like something was coming down on us. Something nobody could stop¡­ not even Sam.¡±

    ¡°Who was the other?¡± Wayland asked.

    ¡°His name was¡­ Jon,¡± she surprised herself as she remembered. A glint of happiness lifted her spirit as her memory cleared. ¡°Yeah, Jon was his name. Sam was talking to him like he knew him. But he just seemed like a normal guy. The force I felt wasn¡¯t coming from him, or Sam. It came from out in the distance, out in those fields.¡±

    ¡°Fields?¡± Annabelle asked.

    ¡°Like an empty field, ready to be planted. It was just dirt, neatly plowed into rows. There were other fields in various stages of growth. They went as far as I could see, all the way to the horizon.¡± She shook her head again, struggling to put the pieces back into clear order in her mind. ¡°I remember being there, but it¡¯s like there¡¯s a fog over everything. It¡¯s all there, just out of focus. Even what they spoke about.¡±

    ¡°It was like that the whole time?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°No. I remember talking to Sam. Everything was clear when I was there. I remember feeling¡­ something,¡± she couldn¡¯t wrap her head around what was blocking her. ¡°I just can¡¯t remember.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay, sweetie. Maybe with time, it will clear,¡± Annabelle offered.

    ¡°It was raining too, the whole time we were there,¡± she stated. ¡°I just remembered that.¡±

    Annabelle just nodded.

    ¡°We have to go back,¡± Eleanor urged as she stood from the couch.

    ¡°Back?¡± I asked. ¡°Back where?¡±

    ¡°The river¡­ he could still be out there. Maybe he came back out, just after we left. He might need our help¡­¡± she pleaded to us.

    ¡°El¡­ you need to rest. I¡¯m more worried about you. I thought I had lost you,¡± I pulled her in close. ¡°We thought you were gone forever. Now you¡¯re back. You need to take it easy.¡±

    ¡°I just¡­¡± she was tired, ¡°I¡¯m worried about him. I feel like something happened there. Something changed¡­¡±

    ¡°Eleanor, from what we¡¯ve seen Sam to be capable of, I think he¡¯s more than okay without our help. If he needs help with something, I fear we could do nothing if he were in trouble,¡± Martin reasoned with her. I think his wise words eased some of the rest of us too. I was half ready to look for him as soon as Eleanor was asleep and safe in our bedroom.

    ¡°Martin¡¯s right,¡± Jane added. ¡°He was stronger than any of us realized. Whatever he¡¯s involved in¡­ I don¡¯t think we could assist him.¡±

    ¡°He could very well be older than any of us in this room,¡± Charles added from the back.

    There were no other answers we could gather as we sat in the living room. Eleanor was done sifting through her memories. Annabelle said that once she was up for it that she could help her try and piece her memories together. I didn¡¯t know how I felt about that yet, but if Eleanor agreed, I¡¯d support her. Part of me thought that it might be a blessing for her not to remember the time that she had died and gone somewhere else.

    Throughout the rest of the day, all of our friends and family left. All of our immediate threats had been defeated, and we could return to our routine. Well, as normal as we could get after everything had happened. The Wicklow¡¯s house had been turned to ash, so they went home with Shelta until they could rebuild. Lucky for them, I knew a good construction company.

    Jane and her few lingering family members left right as the Wicklows departed. Frank stayed for a while longer. He wanted to stick around with Eleanor for a while but, when he left, he went to be with Jane. Wayland and Clara left right after Frank. They needed to get back to Wayland¡¯s parent¡¯s house. Little Delilah had been staying with her grandparents for a little while since her parents were on a ¡®trip.¡¯ That was what they told her.

    Martin and Charles were the last to leave the house. They had to wait until the sun had gone down enough to move across the city to their own destinations. We were unsure if we¡¯d ever see Charles again. We had all grown fond of his elder knowledge and shocking humility. None of us expected him to be what he now was. We hoped we¡¯d see him again.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay in touch with Martin and alert him if I hear anything. I¡¯ll spin whatever web I need to convince the ones who sent us that the threat has been dealt with,¡± Charles informed us. ¡°They¡¯ll have a lot of questions, especially that Mercy has been killed. However, I think I can handle that part.¡±

    ¡°Well, thank you, Charles. My family¡­ we all consider you a friend. I hope we see you again someday.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Carter. You don¡¯t know what that means to me,¡± Charles clenched his jaw, visibly moved.

    He was just like Martin, fighting so hard against his own nature. I¡¯m sure to hear something like that from a human meant quite a bit to them both.

    Then, the house was quiet. Only Eleanor, Autumn and I were left in our large home. I knew everything was over, but I locked every door, shut every window, set our alarm system, and activated the wards surrounding our house. It was overkill, but I had just gotten my family back. I wouldn¡¯t lose any more of them.

    Eleanor had already been sleeping in our bedroom for a few hours. Autumn slept right next to her. She didn¡¯t want to leave her mother¡¯s side. She was scared Eleanor was going to disappear. She¡¯d loosen her grip with time, but I couldn¡¯t blame her. I felt the same way, but I knew the worst was over. It took me the majority of the day to be able to let her out of my sight, even within the walls of the house.

    I was passing through the dark kitchen to the fridge. After the intense day that had passed, I needed a drink. I grabbed two beers out of the fridge and sat at the kitchen counter. I placed the handgun, loaded with silver bullets, down on the table. I had been carrying it around all evening once people had started leaving. It felt safer, even though nothing could get near us with all the warding, not to mention all of our cameras and motion detectors.

    Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement through the kitchen window, looking out on the back patio. I steadily set the beer down, not to make it too visible, and picked up my gun. Once it was in hand, I shifted quickly towards the window, aiming directly into the dark silhouette.

 Chapter 32 - Aftermath

    The blinding light only lasted a few seconds before I was thrust back inside of my physical body. My eyes ripped open underwater, and I gasped more water into my lungs. My body wouldn¡¯t fall this time. I couldn¡¯t die, not until the beast passed onto someone else.

    I swam to the surface, pulling myself up the muddied riverbank. I heaved, puked, and coughed the water out of my lungs. There, on the riverbank in the light of the late afternoon, I stood soaking wet. There I stood, for the first time, knowing there was no end within my sight. I had always looked for Plan B, but for now, I finally knew with certainty. There was no escape.

    This was my reality, my purpose. My sole purpose to wait for a name, and then kill them. That¡¯s all I brought with me now¡­ murder, death, and destruction.

    Jon said there was a lot more to learn. He said I wasn¡¯t ready for certain answers. I didn¡¯t know everything yet, but I had time. He also said I shouldn¡¯t go it alone. Apparently, from the way he inferred about his own time in this role, he wasn¡¯t always alone. With that thought, I started walking. Left then right, left then right.

    After a quick stop, breaking and entering, and a set of dry clothes, I was in their back yard. I walked onto their patio in the darkness of the night. Immediately in front of me, sitting at the counter with two beers in front of him, was Carter. He looked tired. I could tell by his breathing and heart rate that he was at the end of a very long day.

    I focused my senses, homing in on two slow heartbeats on the second floor. I leaped from the ground to the roof just beside the window. I looked in and saw her. Eleanor was there¡­ alive. She had made it back. She made it home. There, just beside her, was Autumn. She looked at peace as she slept. The last time I saw her face, it was watching her frozen in time. The pain was so evident on her face for her dying mother. To see her now, like this¡­ it was just what I needed.

    I jumped back to the ground, landing a little too fast on the patio outside of the window. I heard Carter¡¯s heart jump and saw his eyes shift to the corners. In only a short second, he had twisted around to the window and was aiming his gun straight at me.

    I connected eyes with him. We stayed locked in for a moment. I¡¯m sure he was wondering what to do. I was wondering how he¡¯d react. Then, to my surprise and relief, he lowered his gun and walked to the back door.

    He tapped on the security pad at the back of the house, unlocked the deadbolt, and then took a deep breath. He prepared himself for what was coming, unsure of why I was there. He must have been fairly certain I wasn¡¯t a threat because he opened the door very calmly.

    ¡°Sam,¡± was all he said.

    ¡°Carter,¡± I responded.

    Neither of us said anything else for a moment, although I could tell he wanted to as much as I did. Fear probably held him back from anything else.

    I broke first, ¡°How is she?¡±

    He was relieved, yet still uneasy, ¡°She¡¯s¡­ okay.¡± He actually started to tear up, ¡°Did you¡­ I know you took her, but¡­ she¡¯s back.¡± He had so many questions. Some I might be able to answer. Others I didn¡¯t fully understand myself.

    I thought he was about to ask me how she came back to life. But he stepped through the doorway and wrapped both of his arms around me.

    ¡°Thank you¡­¡± I could hear the tears running down his cheeks, my sensitive ears picking up everything about him in such close proximity. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you did it¡­ but thank you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± was all I could say on the subject. I had a lot of my own emotions on the matter. I would have made the same decision again if I had too, but the facts remained. I gave up my only chance to return to my own life. It was a heavy reality. One I couldn¡¯t dwell on for too long. I was trying to push it down.

    He pulled away, ¡°Please, come in.¡±

    I was hesitant, ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s a good idea.¡± I had only come to make sure that Eleanor had made it back and was safe. Anything else was¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure if I was ready for that yet.

    ¡°Here,¡± he said, stepping back inside to grab the beers, ¡°I¡¯ll come out here. At least stay and have a drink with me.¡±

    I reached out again with my senses. Eleanor and Autumn were still unconscious upstairs. If I looked either of them in the eyes, I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d be able to distance myself as I had planned to.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I agreed.

    We came to sit at the large patio table across from one another. I could see the questions racing in his mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sam. For what happened that night at the parking garage. We acted too rashly, out of fear and uncertainty. We didn¡¯t understand, and we didn¡¯t approach you like a friend. We treated you immediately as an enemy,¡± he apologized. ¡°Autumn, she¡­ she never meant to shoot you. It was the whole situation. We were all on edge because we all cared about you, and in our suspicion, we thought you were some kind of threat. We felt betrayed¡­ At least, I did.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Carter. I understand. You all thought I was lying to you the whole time. Even to Autumn,¡± I struggled to maintain my plans, but the more I talked openly about how I felt¡­ it made me want to stay. ¡°I never planned on any of this. I never knew about others like me¡­ well, other creatures. Not until I met all of you that night.¡±

    ¡°With those three vampires?¡± Carter asked.

    ¡°Four,¡± I corrected. ¡°There was another when I went back after you dropped me off that night.¡±

    ¡°Four?¡± he asked. Memories were being connected, ¡°Martin thought there were four too. He said that four of them were missing after that night. You went back and killed him?¡±

    ¡°Well, not initially. I only went back to take a closer look at them. I had never seen one before that night, and I wanted to smell them again. They are like,¡± I tried to describe the vampires, ¡°it¡¯s like the scent of a large crowd. Plus, I wanted to see if they¡¯d burn up like you said they would. I just let the other burn up with the first three.¡±

    He was processing. Trying to connect dots in our past that he had always had questions about.

    ¡°So,¡± he asked, ¡°why did you come with us that night?¡±

    ¡°Honestly,¡± I thought hard, ¡°I thought I might be able to figure out what I was. You all seemed so well prepared, so educated on those vampires and their weaknesses. I thought you might know more about the things that I never knew about.¡±

    ¡°The bestiaries,¡± he already had figured it out.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I confirmed. ¡°I was reading through those things like every next page would have the answers on them.¡±

    ¡°So, do you know what you are? I know I¡¯ve never seen anything like you before,¡± he asked before admitting his ignorance.

    ¡°No,¡± I admitted the half-truth, ¡°I don¡¯t. I read through almost everything you have here, but I never found anything that I could latch onto.¡±

    He furrowed his brow, ¡°So, why¡¯d you stay?¡±

    ¡°You guys remind me of something. Being around your family¡­ it reminds me of what I thought I¡¯d never have again,¡± I said before pausing. It was hard to be so honest. ¡°A family.¡±

    ¡°We did think of you as family. Do think of you like family,¡± he corrected himself. ¡°We just, obviously, have questions.¡±

    ¡°I know you do, but I don¡¯t think I can give you the answers you¡¯re looking for.¡±

    He shuffled through the questions on the tip of his mind, ¡°So you don¡¯t have any idea of what you are?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly.¡±

    ¡°But you understand more about it now, right? I can tell,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yes. But like I said, there are some things I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever be able to tell you.¡±

    He weighed other questions in his mind. ¡°Can you turn into that form at will, or are you like a werewolf? Do you need something else to happen for you to transform?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m in control,¡± I answered honestly. ¡°But it¡¯s a battle sometimes to keep it caged.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± he thought. He looked puzzled for a while, not speaking at all. He took a deep breath, exhaling as he brought the beer up for a drink. ¡°I have one more question. I guess it¡¯s the only one that matters.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± I responded.

    ¡°What are you doing here? Why did you come back?¡±

    I tried to make sure the right words came out, ¡°I just wanted to make sure that Eleanor was okay. I wanted to see you all one last time before I left.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re leaving?¡± he asked quickly. ¡°Where?¡±

    ¡°Not sure yet, but I¡¯ve caused too much commotion here. I think it¡¯s best if I move on and let your family go back to how it was before I showed up.¡±

    ¡°Sam¡­ you can¡¯t think you haven¡¯t had an impact on us. Our whole family has been changed since you showed up. We haven¡¯t been this close with the Talbots in years, and neither family ever wanted to give Martin a chance.¡± He explained, ¡°Ever since we met you, whether it was the Sam we knew, or the Sam out there in the shadows, you were doing things that led us all closer together. And then there¡¯s Autumn.¡± He sighed, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen Autumn this happy in a long time. She¡¯s always struggled to be honest with anyone. Our world can be too much for some. But with you¡­ she¡¯s happy. I started noticing it almost instantly after you started coming around.¡± He seemed like he was struggling to admit this part.

    ¡°But¡­¡± I could sense his apprehension.

    ¡°However,¡± he acknowledged his resistance to me, ¡°My instinct is always to protect my girls. I have to make sure they¡¯re safe. I have to keep them away from danger, and you, you are like a magnet for dangerous shit we¡¯re not equipped for. Autumn¡­ I can¡¯t be honest and say I¡¯m okay with you and her. I want a life for her beyond all this killing and fighting. I want her to have a family. I can¡¯t willingly condone how close you got to her¡­¡± He exhaled abruptly, ¡°But I have to admit, you¡¯ve kept my family safe in more ways than one. You saved Autumn from those vampires that night, somehow, you¡¯ve brought El back to me, and you¡¯ve even saved me.¡±

    ¡°You?¡± I asked, unsure of what he was talking about.

    ¡°Yeah, even me. Once Eleanor was gone, I didn¡¯t know what to do. I knew I had to be strong for Autumn, but it was only a matter of time.¡±

    ¡°Until what?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Until I let my guard down. Until I lost my edge and let some monsters get the better of me on a hunt. After losing Eleanor, and Allen¡­ I didn¡¯t know if I had it in me anymore.¡±

    ¡°And now?¡± I asked.

    ¡°To have her back¡­¡± he looked up to his bedroom window, ¡°it¡¯s like you¡¯ve given me two gifts. Everything felt like it was closing in on me since Allen passed. Then Eleanor¡­¡± he was lost in thought. ¡°All I knew was that I still had Autumn. She would be my only light left in this dark life.¡± Carter looked down and wiped some tears away. ¡°I¡¯m ashamed to admit it but I wasn¡¯t sure if it was enough to keep going. Not the way I had been at least. But then you gave me my wife back. I see a light again. For the first time¡­ I feel like, not everything is going to be ripped from me.¡± He sat for a moment, ¡°I can never repay you for what you¡¯ve already done for me.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have too,¡± I assured.

    ¡°That being said, as much as I am thankful, I have to protect my daughter from the dangers of this world. I still have questions, and it is going to take time for me to be ready to have you back with us like you were. But you can protect my family in ways I cannot,¡± he admitted. ¡°If you¡¯re willing,¡± he offered, ¡°I¡¯d like it if you stuck around. You don¡¯t have to leave. I know it''s a shit deal, ¡®you can¡¯t be with us, but I still want you around¡¯ kind of thing¡­ but this is my absolute honesty. Work with me¡­ give me time.¡±

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    I sat quietly, and I had to think. My first instinct was to run. It always had been. Ever since I was turned into this murderous creature, I felt like I had to run and hide from those I loved. It was the only way I knew to protect them. However, Carter was offering me an open-ended invitation. I could stay. I could be a part of their family but stay just far enough away to not attract the dangers that would follow me. I could maintain a role in their family like Martin. If I took it¡­ what would that mean?

    What about my family; Vicky, Caydee, Seth¡­ all of them? It was a lot to stir on at the moment. Yet, I had time to figure it out. It wasn¡¯t like I¡¯d be dying anytime soon.

    I laughed inside a little at the thought.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay,¡± I answered simply, ¡°for now. There are things you won¡¯t understand, things I still don¡¯t understand. You¡¯ll have questions, and sometimes I won¡¯t be able to give you the answers. But, if it ever comes to protecting them, Autumn, Eleanor, or any of the others¡­ I won¡¯t hesitate.¡±

    Carter nodded his head, accepting my intentions, ¡°That¡¯s good enough for me.¡± He got up from the patio chair and surprisingly came in for a hug. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said as he wrapped his arms around me.

    Surprised at his trust, I hugged him back, ¡°Thank you, Carter.¡±

    We hugged it out for a moment before separating ourselves.

    ¡°I¡¯ll come back whenever you need me. Just let me know.¡±

    ¡°Where will you go?¡± he asked quickly. ¡°The factory?¡±

    Just then, I heard Autumn get up from the bed. She shuffled over to the bedroom window and peered out into the darkness. She saw me and froze solid as a rock. It only took her a moment to read the situation and come barreling down the stairs. She was only quiet enough to escape the room, without waking Eleanor, and then she ran through the darkened rooms until she came through the back door.

    I warned Carter, ¡°Autumn is coming.¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡± Carter said in a hushed tone. He eyed the door and waited for her to get out to us. ¡°Remember what I said.¡±

    Just then, she came through the back door in a rush. As soon as she stepped onto the outer grounds of the house, she stopped. She eyed me from where she stood, assessing what was going on.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I greeted her.

    She looked like she had been transported back in time to that last evening I had been with her. Back to when she was still ignorant of my true nature before she knew anything was wrong.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she answered, unsure of what was supposed to happen.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s okay, Autumn,¡± Carter assured.

    She looked at her father, thankful but restrained.

    We all stood there for a few moments, just staring at each other with an awkward tension. She had a lot of questions for me, and her father.

    ¡°Dad¡­ can you give us a minute?¡± she asked.

    Carter looked at me. His question was written in his eyes. He wanted to know if she was safe with me, alone. He needed to know that I understood his view on Autumn¡¯s relationship with me. I nodded at him.

    ¡°Yes, but I¡¯ll be right inside. I¡¯m going to go check on your mother.¡± Carter nodded to me, trusting me with her, and then slowly crept back inside the house.

    Then, it was just us in the backyard. Autumn stood about ten feet away behind a patio chair. She held onto it for support as she stared at me from across the distance. I waited for her to start. I wasn¡¯t sure what I could say to make anything right. I didn¡¯t know if I should even try.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± she asked first. She wasn¡¯t looking to pick a fight, she just genuinely wanted to know why I didn¡¯t tell her.

    ¡°In the beginning, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be around for long. The more I stayed around you, your mom and dad¡­ everything just kind of got away from me. I had no intention of sticking around you all, but you knew so much about things I knew so little about. I thought I could learn from you. Maybe figure out what I was¡­ and then disappear. None of you would ever have to know the truth,¡± I explained. ¡°While I was doing that¡­ I started growing close to you, and your family.¡±

    ¡°Were you ever going to tell us?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I wanted to, but things happened¡­¡± I was careful not to talk about the visions and the names.

    We were both quiet for a few minutes before either of us spoke again. I was just brutally honest with her now because I knew things were going to come up that I couldn¡¯t talk about. Not yet. Then, she surprised me.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said as she slowly paced across the concrete slab. She came up and touched me right in my chest, where the arrow had sunk in. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to shoot you. It just slipped.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to apologize to me, Autumn.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± she said, her emotions building. ¡°We were so close before¡­ or we were getting there. Then I did that to you¡­¡±

    I tried to comfort her quickly, ¡°You don¡¯t. I did lie to you all. You¡¯re hunters, and you had some kind of creature lying and getting in close with your family. It¡¯s no surprise to me that things happened the way they did. That¡¯s my fault. Secondly, that arrow didn¡¯t hurt me as much as I probably made it seem.¡±

    She cocked her head to the side, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I was trying to leave a trail for you to follow. I had to keep clawing at myself to keep the blood flowing to lead you all to the river. I wanted you guys to think I had bled out and drowned.¡±

    ¡°What,¡± she shook her head, ¡°why would you want that?¡±

    ¡°If I was dead, you wouldn¡¯t worry about me as a threat anymore. I thought it was a way to put you all at peace once I disappeared.¡±

    She thought about everything as I told her. She took moments here and there to really process what I said and what it meant to her. We had transitioned from standing to sitting at the patio table, straight across from each other. I sat entirely still to try and make her, and a watching Carter, as comfortable as possible.

    ¡°But you came back. You saved all of us. Even Mom,¡± she said. ¡°How did you¡­¡±

    I just shook my head because I couldn¡¯t talk about that yet. The details were still too fresh. I needed time before I told them what I gave up to give them Eleanor back. She backed off.

    ¡°But it was you, right?¡± she asked, trying to find a blind spot in my answers. She wanted so badly to know the details of what had happened with her mother.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°How did you know we were in trouble? How did you even know where to find us?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± I answered.

    She was confused. She wanted answers, but I didn¡¯t have all of the answers that she wanted. We talked for a while longer about specifics, but I left her with all of the same non-answers that I could conjure up. They weren¡¯t ready for the truths that I had learned about myself. Or maybe it was me who wasn¡¯t prepared.

    ¡°What about before?¡± she asked. ¡°You had a life before all of this, right? Where is your family, your friends? How old are you really?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not something I can¡¯t talk about, but it¡¯s just¡­ hard,¡± I tried not to think too much on my family. I had enough to deal with without dredging up those memories.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯d like to know about them¡­ if you¡¯re willing,¡± she offered.

    I readied myself. I took a slow breath before I started.

    ¡°They think I¡¯m dead. It¡¯s been over two years since I disappeared.¡±

    ¡°So, you really aren¡¯t that old.¡± She nodded to herself as she accepted it. ¡°You haven¡¯t seen them in over two years?¡± she asked, aghast.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen them. I¡¯ve gotten close but,¡± I remembered the struggle in me back then, ¡°I couldn¡¯t stay. I didn¡¯t trust myself around them. I was scared¡­ scared I¡¯d hurt them.¡±

    ¡°And what about now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m in control more now than I¡¯ve ever been, but I¡¯ve been gone too long. They¡¯ve lost me, they¡¯ve mourned me, and they¡¯ve learned to move on and live with all of that pain,¡± I explained. ¡°If I were to go back now¡­ I¡¯d just be bringing all of that back for them. So, what¡¯s better? Should I go back and uproot their lives and show them the unnatural thing I¡¯ve become, or let them continue on with their lives. Let them keep the little bit of happiness that they¡¯ve found after everything that¡¯s happened. They could just remember me as I was.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been by yourself ever since?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I answered. ¡°Until I met all of you. You guys remind me of my family. Ultimately¡­ I think that¡¯s the real reason I stuck around in the very beginning. You all made me feel something I hadn¡¯t felt in a long time.¡±

    She wiped the silent tears that continually ran down her face.

    ¡°So,¡± she asked, ¡°what¡¯s next?¡±

    I searched hard to find the right words. I didn¡¯t want to assume or put anything on her that wasn¡¯t right of me to. Especially knowing how Carter felt about how close I got to her before.

    ¡°I care about you. I care about your whole family. I wish things were different, but I can¡¯t change what I am. I¡¯m not going anywhere for now, but I know things won¡¯t ever be the same,¡± I acknowledged.

    ¡°Do you think I care about you being a monster?¡± she asked, almost angrily.

    ¡°Well¡­ you saw me the other night, right?¡±

    She nodded, ¡°Yeah, I did. It was terrifying,¡± she admitted with a distant gaze. ¡°But I also saw you come in with no fear and fight to save us that same night. I also saw you running right beside me that night in the alley, protecting me from those vampires. I saw you on our camera system, climbing in through the living room window, and taking my mom away from here. Then, she shows back up here with Annabelle¡­ alive.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You may be something¡­ but to me, that thing isn¡¯t a monster.¡± She continued after a brief pause, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are, but don¡¯t you remember what I told you?¡±

    I shook my head, unsure of what she was speaking about specifically.

    ¡°Monsters come in all different forms. It¡¯s not your existence that determines what you are, it¡¯s your actions,¡± she said. ¡°You might be able to turn into that¡­ thing, but to me that¡¯s just a strength you can call on when you need it. I still see you¡­ not just that thing.¡±

    As soon as she finished, I remembered when she said that the first time.

    She stood inches before me, having some sort of internal struggle. She slowly looked at me and then stepped into me quickly, placing her lips to mine. It was quick but powerful, given the situation. For the briefest of seconds, I felt what it was like before they discovered me. Back when I was living the fantasy I had created. Then, it was over.

    ¡°Things won¡¯t be the same. I¡¯m not sure if they¡¯ll ever be like they were,¡± she added, ¡°but I¡¯m willing to see what happens. But,¡± she amended, ¡°you are going to have to trust us. Let us in a little. It may be hard at first, but the more you trust us, the more we¡¯ll trust you.¡±

    She let go of the little edges of my jacket that she was hanging onto and stepped back just as Carter stepped outside.

    ¡°Autumn,¡± Carter warned after he saw the kiss. He didn¡¯t want her to get too close.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Dad.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I think I should be on my way,¡± I said as I prepared to leave the Chasse house. I stepped away from them both. I had to put some distance between us, like Carter wanted. For now, at least.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Autumn said. ¡°When will we see you again?¡±

    ¡°You all have my number. Once everything settles down¡­ and you¡¯re ready, just call.¡±

    Carter spoke up, ¡°You¡¯re not leaving, right?¡± He wanted to make sure I wouldn¡¯t vanish completely from their lives.

    ¡°Not at the moment. I may have to disappear from time to time, but I¡¯ll always come back. As long as you¡¯ll have me, that is.¡±

    ¡°We will,¡± he assured.

    I looked to Autumn, ¡°I¡¯ll see you again.¡± I meant it more as a question.

    ¡°Soon,¡± she answered.

    With that, I turned to the darkness of the trees and walked out of sight. I turned back towards the house as I heard them step back inside and pull the door closed behind them. They were safe. Locked down inside of their silver warded home that no unwanted creature could enter if they tried.

    I continued into the darkness, back towards the city. My life had just started again, and answers had been given. Yet, more questions had arisen. However, time was on my side. I knew names would come, and I¡¯d have to hunt. I knew that evil still crawled across the earth in every corner, just waiting to be snuffed out. I would oblige them.

    Even though I was cast into this role, unwillingly, and I knew there was no escape, I was hopeful. For the first time in a long time, I had people that cared about me. The real me. The Chasses knew I was a monster. They knew there were things I hadn¡¯t told them and other things I still didn¡¯t know. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but for the first time, we were all on the same page. In time, who knew, maybe I¡¯d tell them what I did know. Perhaps, one day, I¡¯d tell them about the choice that I had made for Eleanor. They wanted me around, and that¡¯s the one thing I hung onto. They cared about me. For the first time, in a very long time, I had people who cared about the real me. They were family.

    I walked into the city to find a new home. I¡¯d never go back to that old factory again. That was from another life. I had just begun a new one, and I had a new idea on how to live it. My story had just begun.

    I moved through the forest, the shadows of the towering trees enveloping me as I headed east, making my way back into the heart of the city. The thick canopy above filtered the moonlight, casting eerie patterns on the forest floor, and the crisp air carried the scent of damp earth and pine. Each step felt deliberate, as if the ground itself urged me onward, guiding me back to the urban sprawl.

    As the trees began to thin, the cityscape emerged in the distance, a stark contrast to the natural world I was leaving behind. Soon, I was leaping across the rooftops, my movements swift and fluid, like a predator on the hunt. The city below was alive with activity. Cars were honking, people milling about on crowded sidewalks, the distant hum of conversation blending into a cacophony of urban noise. I scanned the streets with sharp black eyes, searching for the familiar signs of chaos, for the predators who preyed on the weak. I had to look for possibilities, both human and supernatural alike. I was back on the hunt. But from now on, I¡¯d have to make sure I left no clues. I knew my mistakes from before, and I¡¯d be smarter.

    As I gazed down at the bustling sidewalks, a strange sensation prickled at the edge of my awareness. It was as if something or someone was beside me. I turned my head, scanning the area, but there was nothing there. Yet the feeling persisted, a presence that moved with me, just beyond my sight. I reached out instinctively, my hand slicing through the air, trying to grasp the source of the disturbance. The air seemed to ripple under my touch, like disturbed water, and though my eyes saw nothing, my hand closed around something solid.

    I pulled, and the space beside me shimmered, bending light and reality until Jon¡¯s rifle materialized in my grip. It was as if it had been summoned from thin air, emerging from the void itself. The weight of the rifle was familiar, the cold metal solid and real against my palm. I flipped it over, inspecting it closely. The same carvings and etched names decorated the stock, a testament to its history. My predecessors¡­

    But then, as I studied it, a new detail caught my eye. A small patch of unmarked wood on the stock began to glow a bright red, like metal heated in a forge. Lines emerged from the glow, delicate and precise, until they formed a name, ''Sam Roberts.'' The sight of it sent a jolt through me.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s interesting,¡± I muttered to myself, the words slipping out as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

    Then, without warning, the entire rifle flared with intense heat, the metal glowing orange, but it didn¡¯t burn me. Instead, the details of the rifle¡¯s surface seemed to melt away, the wood and metal reshaping, contorting into something new. The rifle¡¯s form shifted, the barrel thinning, the stock narrowing, until it transformed into a weapon of a different kind. A blade, sharp and curved, reminiscent of the Chasse¡¯s silver blades.

    The orange glow faded, revealing the blade¡¯s ancient, weathered texture. The carvings and names that had once adorned the rifle were still there, but they had rearranged themselves to fit the new shape, smaller and more intricate. My eyes locked onto the largest name now etched into the metal. ''Sam Roberts,'' standing out prominently, as if it had always been meant to be there.

    ¡°What the fuck is this thing?¡± I whispered, staring at this deadly supernatural weapon.

 End of Book 1

    Well hello. If you''re reading this then you made it to the end of Monster - Book 1. I just wanted to put this in here as a kind of line in the sand to separate what is coming next, because I''m just going to keep the chapters going sequentially.

    This is where I ended it originally when I was working on this in the early days. I am excited to keep going and let you guys see where Sam goes next, how his life unfolds, and the different people he meets.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Again, thanks for reading. I love coming home from my day job to hop on my computer and work on this book. If you guys could leave a rate or review and tell me what you liked/didn''t like I would greatly appreciate it. I have gotten some good advice from some of you in messages and comments that I''m very thankful for.

    I do have a question for you guys/gals. What did y''all think about the shift in point of view to Carter towards the end? Always interested to hear people''s opinions. Thanks, and standby for the start of Monster - Book 2.

    -J

 Chapter 33 - Different Kind of Hunt

    The stagnant air of the old musty pub lingered too long in my nose. A small metal dish of re-served peanuts sat in front of me, centered in the round table. A cold beer sat on a paper coaster just beyond my fingertips, condensation beading down the outside of the bottle. I had been sitting there at that table for hours as I waited. I knew he¡¯d come there eventually; it was only a matter of time. I tried to blend in until the one I was hunting for arrived. I ordered a drink, only for appearances.

    His face was burned into my mind, and his name was branded across my thoughts. I wouldn¡¯t miss my opportunity. This was a different hunt than the ones I had been occupied with over the past six months. I had to be tactful in the way I approached this target. Many different variables presented themselves in this situation. This was a special hunt.

    You see, I wasn¡¯t in my usual hunting grounds. I wasn¡¯t roaming the back alleys of St. Louis like I had been for the first few years of this life. I wasn¡¯t even in the United States. I was across the pond¡­ I heard someone say that once. I had found my way across the Atlantic Ocean to France. From there, I tore through the countryside on foot until I came upon the little village of Cassagnas. It was there that I had found the one I hunted. Cassagnas was home to a tiny, lesser-known pub where he frequented. I could feel it in my bones. He was there.

    I¡¯d found him, followed him, stalked him and his companions from the shadows. I watched and was never seen. It only took me two days to learn his routine as I tracked the man through town. Normally, I wouldn¡¯t bother with anything like this.

    Usually, I would get a name and a vision that showed me all the evil and twisted things people had done in their lives. I¡¯d see them take the life away from others in secret to gain power, money, status, you name it. Some people will go to unspeakable lengths to get what they want. I still didn¡¯t know who, or what the thing was that granted my visions and power, but when he called for me, I always answered. I couldn¡¯t ignore him if I wanted to. Part of me grew used to it, sometimes I found myself even liking it. When he sent the visions, everything else fades from my mind, and that¡¯s when the hunt begins. I don¡¯t stop until I find them, transform into the monstrous beast that I¡¯ve become, and then kill them without hesitation. But like I said, this was different.

    My target visited the pub every night once I laid eyes on him. There were usually others with him wherever he went, roaming the world together. They almost seemed like his protection¡­ or maybe his keepers. I was unsure. I had to get him alone. Last night when I followed him to this pub for the second time, the companions all stepped outside to smoke. For a few moments, he was alone. This was what I needed before I figured out what came next.

    I left the black hood of my coat up in the low lighting of the tavern. I got a few curious looks from some of the locals that were spaced out around the place. Their prying eyes darted away quickly when I¡¯d glance up. The feeling that rolled off me was palpable. It was always like this when I had the monster primed and ready for action. Its presence was dominating, even as it hid behind my human form. The other drinkers would mind their own business and subconsciously take a wide berth around my area. The only one that dared enter my presence was the shaky young waitress whose unfortunate job demanded she ask me if I¡¯d like another drink as they eventually emptied.

    Right at about sunset, he walked through the front door. His dirty-blonde mop of hair hung down into his eyes. The matching stubble coated the lower half of his face, just as it had since I first laid eyes on him. It wasn¡¯t the same face that was burned into my mind. That face was hidden behind the overgrown and unkempt hair that was barely taken care of. He looked stressed and tired as he ambled over the uneven floor of the old establishment. Two older, thicker men were trailing right behind him. They seemed like they were all friends, yet the two shadows that followed him seemed subtly on alert.

    The two men were both dark featured, one was tall, the other short, but both had a French vibe. It was their clothes first, and then it was their voices as they spoke to one another. My guy was American. He was silent, but I didn¡¯t need to hear him talk. I knew his story. That too was burned into my brain. Well, his whole story was unknown to me, but I knew enough to track him down halfway across the world.

    The three men came into the pub, lightly joking with one another as they ordered a few beers from the nice, unsuspecting girl behind the bar. After hours of dealing with me, she had no idea something was off with the three new customers. I had left her so shell-shocked that nothing else could warn her of danger. I dialed down the monster''s presence, pulling back its murderous aura to blend in with the patrons now that my targets had arrived. These three were cursed. They were werewolves. This made my situation even more dire because it was the night before the full moon. If I didn¡¯t get to him tonight, I might lose him.

    This pack of werewolves was nomadic, and they moved around a lot. They were not like the Talbots. The Talbots were the pack that I had met back in St. Louis. Their leader, Jane Talbot, was tied in with my old friends, the Chasses, very closely now. She and Frank, the oldest member of the Chasse family, had thrown caution to the wind and were basically living together. Obviously, being the alpha werewolf, they had ways of doing things to lighten the risks associated with her true nature, and the dangers it posed. But ultimately, they made it work. Frank really seemed happy for the first time since I knew him. I only saw glimpses, but I wanted what he had.

    I started to think about my own happiness, Autumn, Carter, and¡­ Eleanor. Autumn¡¯s face appeared in my mind along with the memories of her whole family. For a moment¡­ I thought I was back there. I smelled her scent in my memory, remembered the feel of her blood pulse against her skin with each heartbeat. It was nice. I wanted to be close to her again.

    I had to shake the thoughts away. If I lingered in them too long, they¡¯d distract me from my current situation. At any rate, this hunt was ultimately for them, so I had to get focused. I¡¯d deal with what I was feeling later.

    The three wolves found themselves sitting a few tables behind me. Still, I kept an eye on them in the reflection of a small glass refrigerator. It was probably the most expensive thing in this little hole of a bar. They laughed and got rowdy, calmed, spoke silently, and after a while, they seemed sullen. They knew what was coming in just one day. The full moon would soon rip them from their bodies and send them into a killing frenzy. I could see that they all feared it and that these bar trips every night might have been mental preparation for the change. They feared what they¡¯d do and of who they¡¯d kill. They knew that they were about to lose control.

    Their pack was wild, and not all its members feared the transformation as these three did. In my short time in the area, I did a lot of detective work. In another life, I might have made a good cop. Detective Sam Roberts¡­ on the case.

    I shook my head at myself¡­ stupid.

    This pack was nomadic for a reason. The older, more vicious leaders did not hold the same apprehension about the violent transformation. They welcomed it. Yearned for it. They morphed, hunted, and killed anything in their path on this glorious night. When they left a wake as big as they did, it was only logical to move. So, they lived nomadically, never staying one place long enough to be tied to anything. Their violence was rivaled only by their lack of concern for the damage they were doing to the supernatural world¡¯s secrecy.

    They were making waves like the ones I made when I first began hunting in St. Louis. I hunted criminals, specifically murderers, and made them pay for their crimes. However, I was leaving bodies and taking people too noticeably, and it was raising suspicions. In my defense, I didn¡¯t know that there was any kind of world of creatures. I just thought I was alone. A single destructive monster tearing through the darkness. Something humans wouldn¡¯t understand. These werewolves knew what they were doing. They were mobile and couldn¡¯t ever be pinned down to one location long enough to really be hunted by whatever elders lived on this side of the world. Or¡­ they knew, and they let them do this. I wasn¡¯t sure. It¡¯s not like I knew much about their world. I was more supernatural adjacent as I still didn¡¯t know exactly what I was, and I didn¡¯t make my presence known to anyone else.

    However, I wasn¡¯t a normal supernatural. I tracked people and creatures with something other than my normal heightened senses. I could focus in on people in a way that other creatures couldn¡¯t. If I got a vision and a name, I knew who I was looking for, and it was only a matter of time.

    I investigated the reflection of the refrigerator and saw the two other men standing from the table. The sandy-blonde mop stayed put as the other two slid their jackets onto their backs. They were drunk enough to forget the responsibility of watching the one I hunted. They eased passed me to the entrance. They walked right by me, totally unaware of how close to death they were. I had pumped the brakes on the monster once they had arrived calmly, not wanting to let their own enhanced senses pick up on my presence. If I didn¡¯t keep myself under control, they¡¯d sense me in an instant and run. Or they might hurt someone.

    The crooked wooden door wedged itself back into the frame as the momentum from the two men passing through carried it closed behind them.

    I stood from my seat immediately, pushing the half-full beer towards the stale peanuts. The few earlier eyes reshot quick glances but turned away even faster than before. My muscles stiffened and raised my body upright, towering over the rest of the seated patrons. I turned around towards the one I had come for, making my way across the warped floor to him. My senses were heightened, my attention was on his beating pulse and every micro-action he performed. I waited for any sign of an attempted escape. I had to be careful with this one. When I was only feet from his table, he looked up to my approaching form. He probably thought I¡¯d just pass by to the bathroom. I stepped straight to the chair in front of him and sat down like I belonged there, calming the monster inside.

    ¡°Hello,¡± I started.

    ¡°Who are you,¡± he asked with a curious but careful tone. His American accent stuck out from the rest of the foreign voices.

    ¡°No one.¡± I asked, ¡°Who are you?¡±

    He looked cautious as he slowly craned his head around to the entrance, searching for his buddies¡¯ return.

    ¡°Jimmy,¡± he lied.

    I knew his name, but I wouldn¡¯t push him yet. I only had little time with him while his friends smoked.

    ¡°Well, Jimmy,¡± I played along, ¡°let me ask you a question before your friends get back.¡±

    He looked shocked but unafraid. He was unsure of what was happening but confident that harm wouldn¡¯t fall on him. He was a werewolf with two pack buddies just out the door, what could possibly go wrong?

    I continued, ¡°If you had the opportunity to leave this pack and be free, would you?¡±

    He looked confused. Alerted that I knew what he was, but he knew nothing about me. I was a stranger to him. He really thought about my question, even though he was unsure if this was a test by the elders of his pack or a prank by his friends outside.

    ¡°There¡¯s no escaping the pack,¡± he eventually spoke, thinking this was the answer I wanted to hear.

    ¡°No escape?¡± I asked. ¡°Why?¡±

    His blue eyes shot back and forth, continually eyed the front door, waiting for the return of his friends. He was uncertain about what was happening and didn¡¯t want to fail the test he thought he might be taking.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just up and leave the pack. You¡¯d weaken them. We¡¯re never alone. Someone is always watching to catch runners. My friends outside aren¡¯t supposed to leave me alone like this. They know I don¡¯t want to be here, but I weaken the pack if I leave. I can¡¯t escape,¡± he defeatedly spoke.

    ¡°Can¡¯t, or won¡¯t?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked me again. ¡°Who sent you here? Was it Darry? Is this about Paris because I learned my lesson. Darry knows that¡­¡±

    This time I felt like a little truth might spring him forward, ¡°I came on my own. I¡¯m not with your friends. I came for you.¡±

    He was silent for a moment again. ¡°You¡¯re not from around here. I can tell by your accent,¡± the lying Jimmy observed.

    ¡°Likewise,¡± I said.

    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± he asked hurriedly. The new realization that this was not a test, and I was no acquaintance of his captors, had him eyeing the door nervously for his returning friends.

    ¡°I want to give you the chance to leave. I want to get you out, free and clear,¡± I openly spoke.

    He was utterly shocked by what I was telling him. I could sense him focusing on my heartbeat as I spoke, to see if I was lying. Once he realized I was giving him total honesty, he rushed me with questions.

    ¡°Why? What do you want from me? Why would you help me?¡± Hope lingered in the few moments between questions, possibilities arose in his mind. I could see hope in his darting eyes.

    ¡°You remind me of someone,¡± I eased into it. ¡°Let me ask you another question. If you were free of the pack, what would you do? Would you go back home?¡±

    ¡°Home?¡± he asked. ¡°What do you know about my home?¡±

    ¡°I know you still have one. You have family and friends that would give anything to see you again. They think you¡¯re dead,¡± I let him know.

    ¡°I know¡­ I never tried to contact them. I wanted them to think I didn¡¯t make it. I couldn¡¯t let them know what I¡¯d become, or let them come here and fight this pack,¡± Jimmy honestly opened. ¡°These aren¡¯t werewolves¡­ they¡¯re monsters. They worship the power of the wolf. They¡¯re nothing like the ones my family has seen before.¡±

    I smiled at his words, looking down at the stale peanuts and snickering at the similarities between us.

    ¡°Why are you laughing? Is this some kind of joke to you?¡± Jimmy looked back and forth between me and the door, stressed at the situation I was putting him in.

    ¡°No¡­ like I said before, you remind me of someone. Myself actually. We have a lot in common,¡± I said. Then I reiterated the facts, ¡°You can go back to your family. If you go back, you¡¯d be bringing things together again.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ I can¡¯t. My family, they hunt people like me. If they saw me like this¡­ I don¡¯t know how they¡¯d react.¡±

    ¡°I know exactly how they¡¯d react¡­ Allen.¡± I used his real name.

    He stared me straight in the eyes, totally taken aback. Fear of his real name and familial ties being discovered by his pack became real. He feared them, and of what they¡¯d do to his loved ones.

    ¡°How do you know that name?¡± he ordered. ¡°Nobody knows that name here¡­ don¡¯t say it again!¡±

    His fear was palpable, ¡°You¡¯re that afraid of them?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what they can do! They can track me anywhere. If they ever knew who I really was, they¡¯d kill anyone I cared about. Then, they¡¯d find a way to America and kill my family,¡± his response was powerful.

    ¡°You have people you care about here?¡± I asked. ¡°Who?¡±

    He was very hesitant now, scared of the situation that was growing around him. He knew if he talked, it had to be fast.

    ¡°A girl, Eloise. Her family was killed by the pack elders when she was a teenager, and then she was cursed to join. The same pack that killed her family. She¡¯s hated them longer than I¡¯ve been around.¡±

    ¡°If I clear you a path, will she run with you, or will she stay and lead them directly to you?¡±

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t do that,¡± he answered quickly. ¡°But, she won¡¯t believe we can escape. She¡¯s been trapped here most of her life.¡± He shook his head quickly, ¡°The elders are all¡­ evil. They kill and feed, that¡¯s all they care about. Even in human form¡­ they eat people. All that matters to them is the power they feel on the full moon; and the alpha¡­ Darry, his bloodlust has been unmatched since even before I was cursed. He¡¯s led the pack, totally unchallenged for over five years. Nobody has even tried to overthrow him. He¡¯s too strong.¡± He looked defeated, the thoughts and hopes that quickly manifested were fading away. ¡°We can¡¯t escape.¡±

    I pulled the silver blade from underneath my jacket and quickly set it on the table in front of him. It looked very out of place beside the metallic peanut dish. His eyes went wide at the sight of the familiar-looking type of blade. The silver finish was unmistakable. The twisting symbols and figures that were etched on the sides and spine were familiar to him, and it brought to memory every silver blade he had ever seen before.

    ¡°How do you¡­ Where did¡­¡± Allen¡¯s mind was going a hundred miles an hour. ¡°Look,¡± he slowly breathed as he tried to calm himself, ¡°one hunter can¡¯t take on this whole pack. Even if you had my whole family with you, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯d have enough hunters to kill them all. Especially not this close to the full moon. You can¡¯t clear a path for us.¡± He knew it to be true.

    ¡°But I can,¡± I said. ¡°Your friends are about to finish their cigarettes, and they¡¯re about to come back inside. You don¡¯t need to do anything. Don¡¯t even tell Eloise what happened here. All I need you to do is, when the full moon comes, point her out to me.¡±

    I stood from the table. The chair legs groaned across the floor as it skidded back. I quickly positioned the silver blade back underneath my coat.

    ¡°Wait,¡± he urged. ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. Pretend I was never here. I¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡±

    He looked stunned and fearful of what was coming. I knew he doubted the things I said I could do, but that was fine. I didn¡¯t need him to believe, because he¡¯d see soon enough.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked desperately.

    ¡°Like I said¡­ no one.¡±

    I stepped away from the table, turning abruptly as the door opened roughly through the frame. The other two werewolf keepers returned with fresh smoke in their lungs. I passed through their stink as I exited the pub. I could see Allen¡¯s reflection in the same glass from before, watching me leave¡­ terrified at what was coming. He didn¡¯t fear me, he feared what I was about to cause for him.

    <hr>

    It was the next evening, the night of the full moon, and the white orb sat almost dead center in the blackened sky. It looked so big like you could just reach out and grab it. The moonlight was so bright that it made the darkness of the forest almost clear.

    I was on a hillside shrouded in a thick band of trees. I was downwind from the small encampment of werewolves, watching from a distance so I wouldn¡¯t alert them to my presence. The knowledge I gained from the Chasse''s bestiaries reminded me of things. The most important was that a werewolf''s senses and strength are never as potent as they were on full moons. So, I stayed cautious, only to not alert them early and miss the signal from Allen.

    I needed to make sure I protected the one named Eloise. He seemed like he really cared for her, so I¡¯d do everything in my power to not just save him from this life, but his friend also. If he thought of her in such a way to generate the reaction from last night. She was family to him. That meant that she¡¯d be family to Autumn, Carter, and Eleanor. I had to protect the family, even if they didn¡¯t know her yet.

    Down in the camp, tucked at the bottom of the hill, I saw a group of figures moving around. I counted eleven people down there, their heartbeats faint but steady in the cool night air. The moon was bright, casting a silver glow over everything. It could have basically been daytime for me.

    The camp itself was simple and makeshift, thrown together with speed in mind. There were a few tents scattered around, dark shapes against the ground, ready to be taken down quickly if they needed to move. A large tarp was draped over a fallen tree, leaning at an angle, acting as the main gathering spot for the group.

    The people below were on edge, some looking eager, others anxious. They were all preparing for the transformation that would soon take over, turning them from human to something far more primal. Some of them seemed ready, almost eager to let the beast inside them take over. Others looked more hesitant, like they were second-guessing what was about to happen.

    A man stepped into the center of the group, standing on a small platform made of rough wood and stones. His voice cut through the night as he spoke, grabbing everyone¡¯s attention. While they were focused on him, I took the chance to move. I slipped through the trees and rocks, getting as close as I could without being seen. The wind was on my side, blowing my scent away from the camp, and my footsteps were light, barely making a sound as I quickly closed the distance.

    In a matter of moments, I was in their camp. The monster struggled beneath my flesh, clawing for an escape, begging for a kill. It rattled the walls of its cage inside my mind.

    When I stepped out from behind the few tents that littered my path, I came to an opening that looked out at the eleven people. They spotted me instantly, every feral eye burned into me with a yellowish-orange glow. Their mouths hung open wildly, jagged teeth already warped in human form to match the savage look of their eyes. Even still holding human form, these people looked like something other than human.

    I found the dirty blond mop of hair hidden amongst the crowd. Allen stood in the back left of the formation, just beside a very dark complected woman. Allen looked to be comforting her before the change began. They both kept more natural looks than the others, except for the eyes. The strange colored eyes contrasted greatly with the woman¡¯s dark skin. This was Eloise, the girl he cared for, another victim of this strange pack of vicious animals. She¡¯d been taken from her life just as Allen had. Allen''s wild eyes connected with my blackening gaze in an instant, just as the rest of them were alerted to my presence. He reached over and grabbed the woman''s hand, nodding to me. As soon as he saw me, his heart was racing so fast I thought it¡¯d burst out of his chest. He was terrified of what was going to happen to them. But a faint glimmer of hope was in his eyes. He wanted out, he wanted to go home.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    She looked up to Allen as he grabbed her hand quickly, the wolf inside of her hyperalert and overwhelmed by her senses. Everything had them on edge this close to a full moon, especially when they struggled against the transformation.

    The man on the platform twisted to me in a violent rush as they spotted me within their camp borders. He had long scraggly black hair that surrounded his swollen amber pupils. He looked very muscular under the tattered clothes he wore. I could see scars tracing lines across random parts of his skin.

    "Qui ¨ºtes-vous?" the man asked in French.

    I didn¡¯t know what the hell he had said. I guess I should have brought a translator.

    "Hello," I said to the group, calmly acknowledging them.

    "Ah, you''re American, just like our friend Jimmy," the man spoke again in English, pointing in the direction of Allen and Eloise. "It is regrettable that you''ve stumbled upon us, tonight of all nights." He started laughing darkly.

    "I didn''t stumble in," I said. I took a guess if this was the one Allen had spoken about before. ¡°I came for you, Darry.¡±

    He was very serious now, looking around in all directions in the valley. "Me?¡± Darry asked. ¡°Well, here I am.¡± He spun around dramatically on his little stage, making his inhuman looking friends laugh slightly in their grotesque forms. ¡°What is it you want from me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to kill you!¡± I spoke very calmly as I stared into his eyes.

    He looked back and forth between me and a few pack members. Then, Darry burst into laughter, looking around to the rest of his pack. They all joined him. This was prime comedy for them. I guess by day I could have been a detective, but by night I would have been a fucking comedian with how much these assholes were rolling.

    I didn¡¯t say anything, I let them have their laugh. It might be the last moment they¡¯d ever have one.

    Darry and his friends laughed for a little too long. Things kind of got a little awkward for a minute while I just stood there being laughed at. It was comical, even for me, like they were laughing me out of their camp, not even taking me seriously. I almost thought I should say something again just to make sure they knew I wasn¡¯t joking. Thankfully Darry turned back to me.

    ¡°I see one man. I also see a whole pack of werewolves. Why would you seek me out, only to seal your fate?"

    Then, I reached beside me, feeling the presence that followed me everywhere I went. I reached into the space that didn¡¯t exist and grabbed the handle. The air shimmered as I gripped and pulled, materializing a large knife emblazoned with symbols, carvings, and names. The largest name being mine. This was my weapon, not some silver blade of the hunters. This thing came from somewhere else. Bestowed upon me by my predecessor, Jon, once I accepted my fate. It bordered between a large knife and a short sword. It was hungry for blood. It had an aura about it, like it was alive.

    "I''ve come to end things here. I¡¯m going to kill you, and anyone else with you," I answered him.

    I was holding my blade in a reverse grip, trailing its length up behind me. Darry noticed it appear from nowhere, looking intrigued. But he was too cocky and strong to be worried about some kind of special hunter with a fancy blade. After all I was alone.

    A twisted laugh ripped from Darry''s throat again. Many other beasts that had begun to surround me echoed his maniacal chuckle. They were entertained at my confidence and lack of manpower.

    "One hunter versus all of us?" Darry was thoroughly pleased. "This won''t even be a challenge."

    "Not all of you," I responded. Then I turned to the others and talked very lightly, almost a whisper. I knew they could here every word. "I want everyone to listen to me. This is your only chance to survive what''s about to happen. If you don''t want to die tonight, then chain yourself up to those trees." I pointed over to the few more giant trees fitted with heavy chains and shackles. They used these bindings to teach runners, as Allen called them, a lesson.

    Allen hesitantly pulled the girl, I assumed to be Eloise, to the chains. She didn''t understand. I think she thought he was going to get her into trouble or killed. She looked like she was starting to resist him.

    Then an older looking woman with scraggly hair started barreling towards them, angry at the instant betrayal to the pack, "How dare you!" Her screams were wild and ferocious. She lunged at Allen and Eloise in a vicious and unforgiving attack. She wanted to teach them a lesson.

    I launched my blade through the air with a speed that was hard to track, the metal flashing in the moonlight as it sliced through the darkness. The charging werewolf didn¡¯t even have time to react before the blade buried itself deep in her skull. The force of the impact was so fierce that it ripped her feet from the ground, her body jerking violently as the knife drove her head into a wooden pillar supporting one of the tents. The entire sequence happened in the blink of an eye, a brutal, merciless strike that left her lifeless body hanging like a grotesque ornament. The blade wedged deep in the wood, holding her suspended in death.

    Blood sprayed from the impact in a crimson blast, droplets misting across Eloise¡¯s face and splattering down Allen¡¯s right arm. The shock hit them like a physical blow, both stumbling back, eyes wide with a mix of horror and disbelief. Allen¡¯s gaze locked onto me, the reality of my words sinking in. He was shocked in his growing hope that maybe I really could do what I promised. But it was Eloise¡¯s reaction that struck the deepest chord of fear. Her face, mid-transformation, twisted with terror, a primal dread that rippled through the rest of them like a wave.

    They all felt it¡­ the undeniable, ominous presence that had just revealed itself. It flashed out across the land to blanket the camp and surrounding area. The monster was rising.

    Darry''s eyes burned with anger, "You killed her! That will be the last thing you ever do." His calm demeanor was only showing because he was focusing on the change. He was willing it forward at the peak of the full moon. The rest followed the alpha¡¯s lead.

    I heard the clinking of chains and shackles as Allen and Eloise restrained themselves. They were the very same chains that the two wolves had been bound with countless times before when they tried to escape. Eloise seemed more willing after she saw me kill that woman who charged them. Allen was speaking to her, urging her to do as he asked. She looked scared, but trusted Allen¡¯s plan as she hurriedly snapped and locked the shackles around Allen¡¯s wrists. He did the same for her.

    They were locked up and waiting for whatever was about to happen. Darry saw them do it and spoke directly to them, "I''ll deal with you two once we end this. You two won''t live past this moon. The pack will consume you."

    Then, a rumble started growing in Darry''s chest as his flesh darkened, rapidly growing fur that matched the tone of his darkening skin. He became taller and muscular as the bones in his skull began to shift into new places. His look morphed into a face that was more wolf-like than human, with massive fangs elongating from his protruding jaws. He stood tall over me, probably between seven and eight feet.

    For the first time in my whole life, I saw a werewolf fully transformed. Darry was solid black and littered with scarred gaps of fur across his body. Countless battles and fights from a lifetime of animalistic bloodlust had marked and transformed him into the alpha he was.

    I saw tears in Eloise''s shifting eyes. Allen held her close in the chains, hoping he made the right decision listening to me. I think Eloise was preparing to die. She thought they had messed up, and this pack would finally end her life, just as they had her family.

    Then I looked around and saw that nobody else had chained themselves. They all stood against me down in that valley. Even the two that were with Allen in the bar. They had made their choice.

    They all began to shift into their two-legged wolf form, musclebound and hungry for flesh, my flesh. Even Allen and Eloise thrashed and growled from within the chains as the beasts ripped out. They couldn¡¯t hold it back anymore. The metal chains thrashed and swung aggressively as the two changed into monstrous carnivores. The two werewolves, one dark brown and the other a dirty blonde, were safe within the chains. The other werewolves¡¯ attention was all on me.

    Darry surprised me as he spoke a few words as the full werewolf, "Now... we eat!" He growled the words through his teeth. Then, they all lunged forward, coming straight at me.

    Finally, I opened the door inside of my mind and let the monster free. The change started as it always did; eyes blackening, hands and face burning, teeth shifting and extending, and my body expanding up and out as the muscles twisted into different positions. My clothes were a thing of the past after they ripped and fell away from my body. I was too large to be contained.

    The wolves actually stopped their initial steps as I became more hulking and threatening than they were. I saw in their eyes what I saw in everyone else that saw me this way¡­ fear of the unknown. They realized quickly that I was no lone hunter. I was something else; and now was the time to show them. Everything I had learned about this pack made me check the boxes in my mind, and yes, they fit the bill for the ones I deemed killable. They killed innocent people, showed no remorse, and would keep doing it until they met their end. So, I made the decision. They were going to die¡­ all of them.

    Two werewolves ripped towards me in a quick burst of fury. They took off from standing on two legs to bounding across on all fours. They moved roughly, no fluidity in their movements, only sharp and powerful pulses of muscle. As soon as their claws hit the ground, they shoved forward violently, closing the gap between us quickly.

    They were both on me in an instant, and I had to make a decision. Was I going to do this fast and get it over with, or was I going to show them what a monster truly looked like?

    I swung my razor fist into the side of the left one¡¯s head at a downward angle, planting his skull into the ground. A mist of fluid spritzed up from the impact. The second one glanced off of my right shoulder as I attacked the first, bouncing off of me to the ground. He quickly recovered and shoved off towards me again, letting out a guttural snarl. The first beast¡¯s brain was leaking fluid and blood out of the shattered skull that was slightly buried in the ground. I pulled up from the first one and wrapped both of my hands around the second wolf¡¯s neck as our bodies met, stopping his momentum entirely. His sharp teeth were inches from my face as he thrashed and lunged forward with every muscle fiber in his body. I kept one hand around his throat and put as much pressure on him that I thought he could handle, driving his legs into the ground as he fought against me. As he was held in place by our opposing forces, I quickly used my other arm, sidestepping slightly, to reach behind him and hit him as hard as I could right in the spine. The snap sounded in the valley only a second before an earsplitting yelp. I folded him in half like a piece of paper. He wasn¡¯t moving. Two down.

    I was done with the show and was ready to end them. I just wanted the wolves to see how outmatched they were. I wanted them to feel like the prey, and to see what their victims felt all those times.

    They all tore across the valley towards me, the remaining six. Darry led the charge, being the first one in the oncoming herd of six werewolves. This made my life easier since I knew if I killed the others first, he might tuck tail and run.

    In what was probably only ten seconds, I swung my talons ferociously, shredding through the necks and faces of every wolf on the attack. Darry¡¯s leg was right beside my foot after I ripped a portion of his neck out, so I stomped down and shattered his bone. A roar echoed through the valley as the pain gripped him. Two other dark werewolves went down quickly as the blood poured from their throats. They could heal quickly from damage, but not from such a massive loss of blood and tissues.

    Three others were reeling from the attacks, trying to have a few moments to heal and possibly flee. I gave them a chance earlier, and they weren¡¯t getting a second. As the two others died, and Darry growled in pain, I dominated the last three as I attacked them in a rage. I flung one of them across the encampment towards the central tent that hung off of the fallen tree. The werewolf hit the tree right where a broken branch had left a spiked stub, impaling him through the chest. I pounded one of their faces into the ground with my monstrous fists, and then I swung my talons through the back of the last one¡¯s neck as he began to flee. His head was thrown across the encampment into the side of a tent. It bounced off of the tent¡¯s tight canvas-like material and rolled halfway back towards the headless wolf and me.

    I slowly walk towards Darry¡¯s werewolf form as he stayed in his place, unable to stand. He was shocked when I walked past, unsure if I was sparing him. I paced over to the place where my supernatural blade rested inside of the wooden beam, still holding the female by the skull. I calmed myself, lessening the monster''s grip on me. I slowly returned to my human form as I paced through the grass of the valley. My body compacted and my skin lightened back from the dark grey that cloaked the beast. My fangs and teeth receded to regular lengths, and my eyes finally returning to the blue I was born with. In human form, I pulled the knife from the wood, and the woman¡¯s body fell away. I gripped the engraved metal tightly in my hand.

    I walked back over towards the giant werewolf. His enormous leg looked like it had been run over by a tractor. It was flattened, protruding bones, and sticking out at an unnatural angle. His growls never ceased as I approached with the monster¡¯s blade. He actually spoke through his snarls.

    ¡°Kill you,¡± he seemed like he was talking to himself, the words barely escaping through the loud snarls. ¡°He¡¯ll kill you,¡± he seemed delirious.

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Your pack will consume you.¡±

    His large wolf eyes looked scared, and the real fear was apparent on his face. He knew what I meant.

    I grabbed him by his large, twisted leg and pulled him mercilessly. He tried to escape, swinging at me with his clawed hands. I stabbed my blade into his stomach, anchoring him to the ground. I beat my human fist into his twisted face repeatedly, bones crunching and his large fangs falling from his bloodied maw. My strength still too much for him, even in my human form. I ripped my blade from him and continued to drag him to his fate. I stood in front of the two werewolves that were restrained by the large chains, Allen and Eloise.

    They had been thrashing in their bonds violently as they shifted but slowed down as the killing began. The power of my own monster got their attention, even in their animalistic haze. They realized that they were totally helpless once the chains were on and couldn¡¯t escape me even if they wanted to flee. However, when I threw Darry at their feet, they knew what I wanted, and in an instant, they wanted it too. Their primal minds wanted the same thing. They needed to feed. The two wolves could only move about a foot in any direction, but it was enough to grab Darry and pull his weakened body into their grip.

    Allen and Eloise mauled him. They fought over his body as it got tangled in their chains, causing more damage, ripping pieces of his body free with their powerful movements. They tore him in two, splitting the alpha werewolf and consuming a surprisingly large amount of him.

    As the two surviving werewolves fed under the light of the moon, I paced the camp. I was covered in blood and had no clothes. I checked through the tents in search of new attire. I looted every tent that was erected down in the valley.

    Once I had cleaned myself up and dressed in the old unwashed clothes, I found a seat on the other side of the encampment, away from the werewolves. I needed to calm myself but hearing the noises of the wolves killing and consuming Darry made it hard to do that. So, I sat and waited, breathing steadily as I closed my eyes. With every breath in the cool night air, I reclaimed total control over my conscious mind. As I breathed slowly throughout the rest of the evening, I felt the beast recede into his cage, deep down in the pits of my mind.

    It was morning, and Allen and Eloise were human again. After they killed and ate Darry, they turned on each other for a little while. I wasn¡¯t sure if I should have stepped in or not, but ultimately, they were both alright. They struggled and fought in the chains for so long that they wore themselves out and eventually fell unconscious towards the end of the night. They slept for maybe an hour and a half before the rising sun woke them.

    Their clothes both lay beneath them, shredded and caked in blood and dirt. I had already found some suitable clothes for both of them and laid them out just a few feet away in neatly folded stacks.

    They both helped each other out of their bonds and found the clothes I set out. They saw me sitting on a log some distance away, watching them come back to the human world. I waited for them, letting them have a moment alone.

    I heard them speaking, but I didn¡¯t listen. They looked around and saw the carnage that was spread out around them. I could see the emotion from where I sat, and I wanted to give them a moment. Eloise began to cry as she reached out for Allen. Allen grabbed her and pulled her in tightly. In that first moment of life after the pack, they felt something that neither of them had felt in a long time. They were happy, and they were free. Down in the green valley, the two survivors of Darry¡¯s pack felt a peace that they hadn¡¯t felt in a very long time.

    After they had their moment and readied themselves to deal with the dark hooded figure that watched them from a distance, they came to me. They were holding hands, prepared to deal with whatever happened next, together.

    They walked up, only feet from where I sat. I stood to meet them, slowly getting up. I could tell that they were both unsure of what would happen next.

    ¡°Free and clear, Allen,¡± I spoke first. ¡°Just like I said.¡±

    Allen looked around at the bloodied camp, mayhem spilling out from almost every square foot. The once feral wolf that hung from the jagged branch above the central tent was now a man. A gruesome corpse of a man. They were speechless, and fearful.

    ¡°You can do what you want, but don¡¯t take too lightly what I told you before,¡± I suggested.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Allen asked, too overwhelmed with everything around him to remember.

    ¡°Your family¡­ you can go home,¡± I reminded.

    ¡°But how do you know that? How do you know anything about them¡­ or me?¡± He asked again, ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Who I am isn¡¯t important, but this chance you have here is. They¡¯ll accept you back just as you are, trust me.¡±

    He was quiet for a moment, thinking deep and earnestly. All the possibilities that he imagined the night before were now real and tangible.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Eloise spoke for the first time. Her French accent was heavy in her English words. She seemed sincere but wary. They both did.

    Allen seemed like he was thinking about it, ¡°How would we even get across, back to America?¡±

    ¡°A plane. It¡¯s a cargo freighter that¡¯s heading straight for Norfolk. Once we¡¯re back in the states, you can decide what you want to do. But you have to leave with me now. If we want to make the plane, we¡¯ll have to be there by tomorrow night.¡±

    ¡°What about passports, money, identification?¡± Eloise asked about logistics. ¡°We have none of those things!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about any of that. All you have to do is come with me,¡± I offered. ¡°It¡¯ll be a fresh start. You won¡¯t have to worry about what will happen after all of this,¡± I pointed to the dead, mangled bodies. ¡°I¡¯m sure this will draw attention.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Allen said to Eloise. ¡°If we go across to America, it will be a clean slate. We can disappear. Nobody will be looking for us once they see everyone else here, dead. We can just die with them.¡±

    ¡°But,¡± Eloise spoke slowly, ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about America. I¡¯ve never been out of France.¡±

    Allen comforted her, ¡°It will be okay. We stick together¡­ I¡¯ll be with you.¡±

    She nodded, knowing that they couldn¡¯t stay if they genuinely wanted to be free. Darry and the pack were bound to have connections to others that would come looking once they realized they were all dead. They had to disappear just in case.

    ¡°Okay then,¡± Allen said, ¡°we¡¯ll go.¡±

    I nodded, wasting no time, ¡°Follow me.¡±

    <hr>

    Once we made it into the country, we got some clothes, cleaned up, and got some food. Eloise and Allen looked more American now that they were out of those filthy nomadic clothes. I had found myself something that matched my usual attire; a jacket with a dark hood to conceal my face, some darker jeans, and brown leather boots.

    It was dusk, and we were all three walking through the dense trees on the outskirts of St. Louis. I knew it would all start coming back to Allen quickly once he saw any kind of landmark from his memories. Eloise was taking it all in ever since we stepped off of that plane in Norfolk. We hopped trains after that, riding the rails like transients as we made our way across the skeleton of the new world. The railroads were my guides back in the first days of this new life. I usually followed them when I was out wondering for a place to hide after first becoming the monster. It didn¡¯t take me long to end up in St. Louis, but I¡¯m not sure if it was me, or if I was being guided there by the other thing. The entity that gave me the visions and spoke to me with terrifying power.

    We broke through a tree line to a familiar opening. It was the same place I had been when I met Jane Talbot for the first time. I looked up the hill and pictured Autumn and Eleanor running up to get the height advantage as they had on my first outing with them. I could almost see both of their dark hair whipping behind them as the memories played. I stood there for a moment¡­ missing them.

    ¡°I know where we are,¡± Allen realized.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± Eloise asked.

    ¡°This is the Talbot¡¯s land, in the Rockwoods Reservation. I knew this place looked familiar. This is where another pack lives. My family has known them for a long time.¡±

    ¡°Another pack?¡± Eloise stopped in her tracks. Her words almost trembling. She was terrified that she was about to be taken from one murderous tribe of beasts and be thrust into another.

    I grabbed her arm, quickly shifting her attention to my serious attitude.

    ¡°They¡¯re not like the ones you¡¯ve known. They¡¯re different. They don¡¯t want to be monsters, so they live a certain way. This pack has rules, laws that keep them from killing humans. Otherwise, you¡¯ll have to answer to Jane.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Allen agreed, pulling Eloise back from my grasp. It was subtle, but he was trying to get her away from me, and the feeling I put off.

    They both were beyond grateful for what I had done for them, but I could see the fear behind their eyes. They didn¡¯t know what I was, but they knew I was dangerous.

    She turned to him, whispering like I couldn¡¯t hear, ¡°Are you sure we can trust them? I won¡¯t go back to how it was before. I won¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°El, trust me!¡± He urged. ¡°If we want to stay here then we¡¯ll need others to help us adjust. Jane can teach us the way she maintains her pack on the full moon. This will be a good thing, El.¡±

    It was funny how some of Allen¡¯s mannerisms reminded me of Carter. There were times on our trip back from France that I felt like I was with Carter again. I hadn¡¯t noticed it up until this point, but he had been calling her El, just like his mother. It was funny how that worked out. The big difference being that Eleanor didn¡¯t transform into an inhuman creature on a full moon. Allen was a young version of Carter just like Autumn had features more like Eleanor.

    ¡°Jane can help you both. She¡¯s more tied in with your family now than you probably remember,¡± I told him.

    Allen shook his head as he observed the house through the trees. ¡°How do you know so much about my family? Who are you?¡± he asked again. Then he looked straight at me, ¡°What are you?¡±

    ¡°Now isn¡¯t the time for that. But I will tell you this¡­¡± I got very serious, shifting my eyes to completely black so they¡¯d remember this moment. ¡°I¡¯m a killer!¡± I spoke harshly. ¡°If I think someone needs to be delt with, I end them. I pulled you both out from there, but if you can¡¯t control yourselves here, or hurt one of your family, I¡¯ll be back! Don¡¯t talk about me and don¡¯t tell anyone what you saw that night in the valley.¡±

    They both had backed away from me as my eyes pulsed black and my voice twisted and deepened. The fear they felt the night I killed their pack returned full force. Even after all I had done for them, in that moment in the woods, they were terrified of me.

    ¡°Now,¡± I returned to normal and reached into my pocket and gave Allen a small piece of paper, ¡°this is a cell phone number. Don¡¯t tell anyone you have this. Keep it to yourselves. Only call this if you think your family is in danger. I mean real danger that will threaten everything you have here in St. Louis. This is your last resort,¡± I emphasized the importance as much as I could.

    They both looked like deer in headlights, almost like they didn¡¯t even want to take the number.

    ¡°Do you understand what I¡¯m saying?¡± I asked them.

    Allen and Eloise nodded as their heart rates slowly eased back from their climbs.

    I felt strange saying this to them, however I still felt I needed to protect the Chasse family, even if it was from their own son. However, I couldn¡¯t deny their nature. They were both still werewolves that needed to be taught how to live here among humans. I didn¡¯t think he would hurt anyone, but I needed both of them to know I¡¯d be the consequence, if nothing more than to keep them honest by fear of a gruesome death. They had been living with violent animals for a long time. This would be a major adjustment for them.

    I turned and started walking back in the direction we had come from. My part was over. I had to go check on a few things while I was in the city.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Eloise called, ¡°will we¡­ see you again?¡±

    I turned but kept backing into the shadows of the thickening trees. They were lusher with thick greenery than they were in the early winter months; the last time I was there.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± I said, fading away into the forest.

    In moments, I was completely gone from their senses. However, I stayed close enough to make sure they met with Jane. I knew that once she realized who was standing in front of her, they¡¯d both be welcomed with open arms.

    Eloise and Allen paced up slowly through the woods and crossed the street. They stepped into the yard and to the front door of the large farmhouse. Allen took the lead and wrapped his knuckles on the wooden door. He was only on his second tap before someone had already opened the entryway. The werewolves enhance senses picked them up in the woods before they crossed the street.

    The first face I saw was the one I knew to be Bran. That asshole from the first visit I took out there. He still had a douchebag look on his face, but luckily right behind him was Jane. Her large frame and dark hair made her stick out like a sore thumb.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Bran asked, ready to fight. It annoyed me, but I had to give him credit; he was just protecting his family.

    ¡°They¡¯re werewolves, like us, Bran,¡± Jane looked interested. This wasn¡¯t usual behavior for normal werewolves, to just casually stroll up to another pack in their home. She was intrigued.

    ¡°Jane¡­¡± Allen spoke around Bran.

    Jane cocked her head to the side, unsure of who she was looking at. I watched her eyes scan Allen, then Eloise, and then back to Allen.

    ¡°It¡¯s me¡­Allen. Allen Chasse,¡± he spoke to her.

    Her eyes were blank momentarily as her brain processed the impossible in front of her. Then her eyes went wide, pushing past Bran and stepping on the front porch directly in front of him. Even Bran¡¯s expression changed as soon as he heard the name. They all knew exactly who he was and what they thought had happened to him.

    ¡°Allen¡­¡± Jane eyed him intently as she examined his face and her own memories. ¡°You¡¯re alive?¡± Jane asked, her expression consumed with shock and confusion. ¡°How did¡­¡± Jane couldn¡¯t think clearly. They had a few moments of slow confusion where they tried to figure out what was happening, and how it was possible. She pulled him in for a hug, which surprised me.

    ¡°Come inside, both of you.¡± Jane grabbed Eloise¡¯s hand and led her inside in a welcoming but forceful manner.

    Eloise seemed to let her guard down a little as she witnessed the kindness of this pack''s alpha werewolf. I could hear her heartbeat slow and calm as she entered the house. She wasn¡¯t used to this kind of treatment, and she never expected it from another alpha.

    After the door closed behind them, I heard Jane ask, ¡°Allen, what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a very long story,¡± he said. Then, in the quiet of the house, Allen began to tell his tale.

    As I made my way deeper into the abyss between the trees, I began to think about my friends. Everything I did to bring Allen back to St. Louis was for the Chasses. I wanted to return to their lives as I was before. I knew I would have to build their trust back, but it would only be a matter of time. But nothing could be nailed down. I wasn¡¯t in full control of my life.

    I started to hope for the future. The last six months were hard, and I felt like I was starting to come out of the darkness that was holding me back from my friends. I played everything back through my mind.

 Chapter 34 - Departed (Six Months Ago)

    I had just seen Autumn and Carter in their backyard. The first night after I brought Eleanor back to life and returned her to the living world. Well, I made the trade, but it was the dark figure that actually transferred my own life to her.

    The Entity, or Being as I came to call it, was the one who pulled the strings. Jon, the creature before me, had told me of my chance to escape the monster I had become. It would be a way to return to my life and family. I would have been free. However, I gave all of that up to save Eleanor from her own death. I felt responsible since it was Phineas, one of the three immortals, that killed her. The three immortals had come for me, and my adopted family got caught in the crossfire. They found out about the Wicklow gypsies somehow, and that linked them to the Chasses. So, I made the trade. Now, I was the monster¡­ period. It was the only thing that kept me alive. If I didn¡¯t have the beast inside, then I¡¯d pass on. Yet, I found myself not wanting the death I craved for so long. I wanted life more now than I wanted death before. I had a new hope in my future after the Chasses new the truth and wanted me around.

    After leaving Carter and Autumn in their backyard, I wanted to meet up with Martin in his bar. This was the first time I had gone to the vampire on my own. After everything that had happened, I knew he¡¯d help me with what I wanted.

    I made my way to that part of town about an hour after I left Autumn and Carter. I was in no hurry. I went straight from their house to Martin¡¯s Bar, taking in the world after accepting there was no escape. To my surprise, the bar was lively. People were walking in and out, the neon signs were lit up and glaring across the darkened parking lot that was littered with vehicles. Music was thumping through the walls and into the night. It was not what I expected. I had only been there once, during the daytime when it was closed.

    I walked into the structure for only the second time in my life, blending in with some young college-age kids that looked like they were already having too good of a time. Then, as I came inside of the large room that rumbled with voices being drowned out by the music, I could smell something familiar. Concentrations of blood swirled the buildings atmosphere as far as my senses could reach. It was vampires. I glanced around the room, but I couldn¡¯t tell who they were. There were so many people packed in the small building that the scent of the blood combinations was blurred by the humans. I knew they were there, but it was like they had camouflage that they hid behind in a crowd like this. It was interesting.

    I made my way through the expanse of tables and chairs to the bar, keeping my eyes out for any vampires that needed killing. I couldn¡¯t understand how there were vampires and humans in the same confined spaces so close together. Why did Martin allow this?

    Behind the bar was a woman with very long hair that was obviously dyed this powerful red. It was too red to be natural. Her arms and back were covered in tattoos. The only skin showing that wasn¡¯t inked over was her neck and chest, which was revealed in a very low-cut tank top. Then, once I stood in front of her, I knew what she was. She had a posture and a look that drew people in, especially the young frat boys that wandered into this place. She was a vampire. The smell of many others came from behind the bar, right out from her. The sea of people behind me cloaked the patrons in a massive cloud of conjoined scents, but she was far enough from the crowd by herself to stick out. The concentration of her blood was an extreme that I hadn¡¯t experienced before. Standing in front of her felt like I was in front of horde of human beings.

    I knew what she was, but she had no idea what stood before her.

    ¡°You gonna order something, or just stand there?¡± she asked as she cleaned a glass.

    ¡°No,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯m looking for Martin. Is he back there?¡± I asked, secretly plotting to kill this murderous bitch. How many humans had she killed to get her blood level so concentrated?

    The girl looked surprised that I knew Martin, even more, that I knew he¡¯d be back behind his massive door that kept him hidden from the world.

    ¡°And how do you know Martin?¡± she challenged. She seemed like she was protecting him.

    ¡°We have mutual friends.¡±

    She looked hesitant for a moment, judging the size and musculature of my human form, but then sighed, ¡°Well, it¡¯s your funeral.¡±

    She thought I was human, she could sense nothing about me that led her to the supernatural like her, so she had no worry for her boss. She picked up a little phone that was laid flat on the counter behind her. I heard through the chaos that littered the air, only one ring sounded through the speaker.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name, guy?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Just tell him, Sam¡¯s here,¡± I told the red-haired vampire.

    She didn¡¯t say anything else and didn¡¯t really seem to care either way.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Martin¡¯s voice reverberated through the little phone.

    She spoke quickly, ¡°There¡¯s someone out here asking for you.¡±

    ¡°Who is it?¡± Martin asked.

    ¡°He said his name was Sam,¡± she told him.

    There was only a pause for a second, and then the phone hung up. She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen. She raised her eyebrows, curious why her boss had acted the way he did at the sound of my name.

    Then, the large metal door squealed from behind the kitchen corridor that hid the secret living quarters of the old vampire. As Martin passed by the small food window that connected the kitchen and bar, he glanced through quickly at the bartending vampire, and then right at me. His eyes went wide, and his steps almost stuttered. It was enough of a reaction to my presence that made the bartender notice. She was curious about Martin¡¯s response to me.

    Martin pushed through the double doors and into the large bar area. He looked to the vampire, ¡°Thank you, Alex.¡±

    Alex, the red-haired vampire, nodded to him, eyeing me more carefully now.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Martin said. He didn¡¯t know what to say and was probably still unsure about my status. He probably never thought he¡¯d see me again after the violent encounter with Phineas and Mercy, not to mention if he knew of what happened with Eleanor. Of that, I was unsure of what he knew, or what even she remembered. He glanced around at all the humans and vampires. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    ¡°I actually wanted to see if I could get your help,¡± I honestly spoke.

    His eyes looked hesitant but willing to hear me out. He motioned towards a table just a few feet away from the bar. Nobody was sitting there since it was right beside the kitchen door, which would swing open and smack the side of the table every time someone passed through.

    I sat calmly, and he followed. I glanced over to Alex, who eyed us intently as she pretended to focus on cleaning used glasses and pitchers.

    ¡°I have a lot of questions for you, Sam,¡± the old dark-haired vampire said.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you do. I only got one for you,¡± I took control of the conversation. I didn¡¯t want to get into any of his questions with the eavesdropping ears behind the bar.

    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Martin asked inquisitively.

    ¡°I need a place to stay. I¡¯m not living in that abandoned factory anymore. That time is over. I want somewhere that I can actually live in, not hide from the world.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± he had a million things running through his mind. ¡°Have you spoken to Carter?¡± he whispered as to not let Alex hear through the humming voices and music.

    ¡°Yeah. I just came from there.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± he wanted more.

    ¡°We¡¯re on the same page, but our relationship is¡­¡± I tried to put it into words. ¡°They have a lot of questions too, but I don¡¯t have the answers they¡¯re looking for. They know I¡¯m something, like you, but they don¡¯t know anything about me.¡± I added, ¡°They know I only want to protect them¡­ like you.¡±

    ¡°So, they want you around¡­¡± he pondered on the thought, lightly tapping his finger on the table.

    ¡°Yep, so if I¡¯m going to stick around, I want somewhere to live out of where animals and bugs don¡¯t have free roam. I figured you might be able to help me out there,¡± I said, pumping out a little intimidation from the beast within. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be dead. I can¡¯t just put in an application at an apartment complex.¡±

    He smirked as he nodded, ¡°I think I have an idea.¡± He led me back into the depths of his own hideout within the bar.

    Alex, the bartender, eyed us as we disappeared into the back. She was curious.

    Martin told me of a place he had as a kind of safe house he had used in the past. He had it for times that he needed to stay off the grid when he thought he was being hunted by other creatures of the night.

    As I was leaving the bar, I asked Martin, ¡°Why are there vampires and humans inside of this place together. Aren¡¯t you just letting them become a free meal to these vampires?¡±

    Martin almost looked insulted, ¡°Do you think I would protect the Chasse family as fierce as I do, and then condone the hunting and killing of humans out of my very own business?¡±

    I probably looked dumbfounded, ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ you tell me? That girl, Alex, she¡¯s a vampire, and she looks like she¡¯s just waiting on one of these dumb college guys to fall all over her so she can suck the life out of them.¡± I showed no mercy in my words.

    Martin sighed, but then actually softened his stance on the subject. ¡°I guess it does look that way when you don¡¯t know anything about this place. So, let me educate you. This place is a middle ground for humans and vampires. The humans obviously don¡¯t know what is going on, but every vampire that steps foot in here knows that they cannot kill anyone in this place. They are mostly younger, and much weaker than I, or Alex. If I find out that one of my kind has hunted someone from here and killed them somewhere else, I will deal with them.¡±

    ¡°What about her,¡± I asked about Alex.

    ¡°She¡¯s different¡­ like me. She doesn¡¯t feed on humans, she never has. She has had a very dark past, and I offered her a place here. She helps me run this place, and keep order when things get out of hand. She is a very special kind of vampire.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± I asked, very intrigued.

    ¡°She is what we call an Anthropophagus. She is as strong as she is rare. It¡¯s a type of vampire that only feeds on other vampires. It can only happen when a newborn never tastes the blood of a human, and only drinks the concentrated blood of vampires. If she drank from a human at any point in the first few years of her life, she would have lost that strength. It can never be regained once it has been lost,¡± Martin explained.

    ¡°How does that happen when you¡¯re that new? Aren¡¯t newer vampires weaker than older ones?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. Older vampires gain strength with age as the blood concentration intensifies. I still don¡¯t know everything about what happened to her, but she was found by other newborn vampires. From what I know of her story, they did unspeakable things to her. Then they turned her so she could never escape the pain of this life. I think they thought they could keep her around as some kind of toy¡­ or pet.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know vampires were that fucking deranged. I thought all they wanted was blood?¡± I was shocked by what Martin told me.

    ¡°These were newly created, very newly created vampires that didn¡¯t know how to manage their emotions and urges that are so potently charged in the beginning of this second life. They were on the loose and thought they were invincible. When she awoke after being reborn as a vampire, her anger and rage against them was too strong for them to fight against. She killed and drank them all until there was nothing left. She hates vampires. If she ever knows of one that breaks our rules, I don¡¯t usually have to do a thing. She¡¯ll hunt them on her own. She¡¯s always looking for one she can lure in to kill. She doesn¡¯t feed as often as a normal vampire, but she still has the need. The intensity of vampire blood sustains her for much longer.¡±

    Strange¡­ I never read about vampires like her in the bestiaries. I was curious just how strong she was. I made a note of that in my mind.

    After Martin gave me the keys to the hideout, I left the buzz of the nightlife behind. Alex and Martin eyed me intently from behind the bar as I left his establishment. I knew he¡¯d tell her what he did know about me. I¡¯m sure, now that my secret was out with the Chasses, that he¡¯d tell his trusted companion about me, if only to protect her. They seemed close. I wondered if Carter or any of the Chasses knew about her.

    I made my way to Martin¡¯s safe house. It sat in the densely grown trees directly west of St. Louis. I didn¡¯t veer off the main road I was following until I hit the exit for Allenton Road. I was trying to follow Martin¡¯s instructions so I wouldn¡¯t get lost and end up knocking on some civilian¡¯s door.

    Down in the trees of this small winding road was my new home¡­ for now. In a little piece of land just off the small road was where I stopped. It was very well hidden in a thickly covered plot of land. No driveway branched off from the main road, just two tire tracks that carved into the dirt. Only the occasional driver turned around here because they had gone too far down the wrong path. The small house was totally blacked out. No lights were on, the trees and brush had grown over the place so extensively that I was starting to have flashbacks of the abandoned factory where I used to live. It looked weathered and run down.

    ¡°Thanks a lot, Martin,¡± I huffed as I examined the new dump that I¡¯d call home. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me.¡±

    I sighed and just walked to the front door, catching a vine or some kind of plant in the face as I pushed through the growth. I came onto the porch and felt the surprising sturdiness beneath me. Then, I placed the key in the deadbolt and turned over the locking mechanism. It looked like shit but felt sturdy. When I opened the door and entered the front room, I was astonished. The whole place on the inside was insanely modern and clean compared to how the outside appeared. I shut the door quickly like if I left it open too long someone might see how nice this was.

    I found the light switch and flipped it on to reveal how much nicer it really was. This place was a very well-kept secret out in the shadows of the forest. I paced every room of the small house. It felt more like a small apartment than a home. The kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, and the little closet with a washer and dryer looked like it was built for only one person. That person probably being Martin.

    I wondered if the Chasses made it themselves through there company, CWT Construction. It had a similar style to the things I saw built in my short time working for them. That was when I was pretending to be the unsuspecting human employee by day, and the monster hunter by night. All while hiding the truth from them, that I was a merciless killer of killers. A monster of unknown origin.

    I sat on the living room couch and felt a sudden calm wash over me. I felt relaxed. For the first time since all the chaos of my secret being exposed, I felt like I could just sit still. I closed my eyes and decided to go to sleep. I didn¡¯t need to sleep anymore, but it was nice to escape the world for a while.

    This was the start of my absence from the Chasse family. I wanted to go to them so bad. I wanted to see Autumn again, to figure out our relationship now that the cat was out of the bag. She said things would be different, and she didn¡¯t know if they¡¯d ever be like they were, but she and Carter wanted me around. They didn¡¯t want me to leave. So, I stayed away, but close enough if they needed me, or just called to have me come over¡­ I hoped.

    I wanted to see Eleanor as well. I felt something strange about it all. I wanted to give Eleanor space after everything that happened, but I worried that it wouldn¡¯t stick. I needed to make sure that the deal I made was real, and nothing would slowly happen to her as time went on with her living off my life force. I had also heard that she didn¡¯t remember everything about what happened in the fields, the place between places. That is where my ¡°maker¡± maintained his presence and applied his will into the world.

    I knew what Jon had told me, but I also knew that he was waiting on me to be ready to fully take the mantle of the monster from him. A part of me began to think everything that had happened was just a ploy for me to take over as this ruthless killing machine. He told me that the being would offer me a way out, and then Eleanor just so happened to get killed. I started to think that it was all made to happen that way. Jon said that our maker could manipulate things to occur on earth from the fields, so maybe he had a hand in it all. Maybe they knew I¡¯d make the trade and stay as the beast. There were a lot of questions that came up after everything happened. I wondered who the being, entity, or person was¡­ if he was a person. The control they had over me was concerning. It always left me feeling just out of reach of being in control of my own actions.

    The witch, Mucia, also known as Mercy Lewis, could do all manner of strange and formidable things with her power. I started to wonder if this being was just some other kind of witch, or something like it. In any case, I was stuck now. I was the monster, I killed and fed off the deaths of others. That was the only thing that satisfied the beast within me. As soon as I killed, I could feel the need fade. But, when I was given a name and a vision by the one in the fields, it was my only goal in life. I had to find the person he sent me for, I had to transform into the unstoppable monster that I had been made into, and I had to kill them with no hesitation.

    I waited those few weeks for the Chasses to call, but I also waited on him to call. If I received a vision and a name, I would be up and moving as soon as it had passed. So as much as I wanted to be with the Chasses, I also had to be ready to leave at a moment¡¯s notice. I hoped I¡¯d get a vision because if I didn¡¯t, I knew I¡¯d have to hunt my own prey. It wasn¡¯t a problem; I just knew if I had a target, I would satisfy the beast in a way that was far more powerful than my own hunting.

    Unfortunately, as time passed, I realized that the visions were not coming as soon as I¡¯d hoped. So, I took many trips into the city to hunt for possibilities, just as I used to. It took a few days, but I was able to find a corner of the town that had been frequented by a particular drug dealer. I felt all nostalgic and shit, like I was going back to my roots. Drug dealers and criminals weren¡¯t on my radar for a while now, but when times get tough, I guess you have to make do. I only watched him for a few days before I came for him. This man looked rough like he lived a hard life. He had blonde hair that looked coarse and dirty. A few tattoos lingered on his knuckles and neck. He was the epitome of a drug dealer. I had heard things about shootings and disappearances in that part of town, and sure enough, it was him. Drugs were the initial starting conversation, and then things got a little more twisted. He wasn¡¯t just a drug dealer. He dealt in many things.

    One night I trailed him through the city. A storm was brewing; lightning traced across the sky, and the wind had picked up drastically. Every few moments as I shadowed the movements of this creep, a flash of electricity would bounce back and forth between clouds. As the light flickered and streaked overhead, my figure was revealed to the world for a fraction of a second while I stalked the rooftops. The thunder rolled across the city, making no need for stealth.

    Eventually, I witnessed a drug deal that took a strange turn. The transaction was made with a man that looked like the typical suburban dad. He had a beer belly that was covered with a stretched blue polo, tightly tucked into his khaki cargo shorts. His flipflops really made him look like a stupid asshole in the middle of this part of town. He looked too leisurely and calm to be on this side of town, buying drugs like he was at the farmers market. Even through his family man fa?ade, I could see he had some kind of addiction. My senses picked up on things not quite right with his vitals. His body just slightly off kilter from something in his blood stream.

    Money was exchanged for some kind of mind-altering substance, but then another conversation started. The tone obviously shifting, even from my point of view on the rooftop. The drug dealer I had been following had something else to offer. The blue polo man followed him behind a building to a pocket that the surrounding buildings hid from street view. There was a van parked back there. Only one other person was there, standing guard in the silent area around the large vehicle, tucked away out of sight. I could see it fine from the aerial view I had atop the building once I made a leaping adjustment through the darkness.

    The dealer swaggered past the hulking guard, who loomed like a silent monolith, and yanked open the side door of the van. Inside, a grim sight came into view. Boys and girls, ranging anywhere between ten and twenty-five years old were crammed inside. A twisted array of terrified faces staring back at the dealer, their mouths gagged, hands bound. Each pair of eyes was wide with panic, pleading for mercy that would never come. The air reeked of fear and hopelessness, a thick stench that clung to the scene like a suffocating fog. It reached out and infected my mind.

    The massive guard, a brute who seemed carved from stone and chiseled with tribal tattoos, moved with chilling efficiency. He gripped his gun like an extension of his own arm. He shoved it in their faces, one after the other, dragging each victim from the van as if they were nothing more than cattle. The silent ritual played out with a practiced ease, an awful familiarity that turned the horror into routine. This wasn¡¯t a first-time operation¡­ it was business as usual. They weren''t just selling product; they were trafficking in human lives. Stolen, shattered lives. The horror of it was almost unbearable, yet it unfolded with a calmness that made it all the more sickening. They knew not to resist, fearing the wrath of their captors.

    Then, there was the buyer. He was a man who didn¡¯t belong, at least not by appearances. The suburban dad, camouflaged to look so utterly ordinary, stood there with eyes that gleamed with a dark hunger. He fumbled with his wallet, ripping out bills with trembling hands, his eagerness betraying him. It was like he couldn''t pay fast enough, couldn''t get what he wanted quick enough. He pointed feverishly, picking out a girl. She looked away, leaned back, trying to hide behind someone like she could disappear. There was recognition in his gaze, an implication that went beyond the transaction. He¡¯d done this before. He knew her. He¡¯d bought time with her before¡­

    And just like that, the mask slipped. He was not some hapless fool stumbling into a nightmare. No, he was part of this hell. Just as complicit. Just as vile. He wasn¡¯t a customer; he was a predator, lurking behind the veneer of normalcy. The sight of his frantic, greedy motions, the way he eyed the girl like she was nothing more than a possession for him to have¡­ it stoked a simmering rage, a disgust that clawed at the throat. Every second dragged out like an eternity, the sheer depravity of the scene pounding in my mind, stoking a rage that was impossible to ignore. This wasn¡¯t just a crime. It was an abomination.

    Fury boiled in me so fast that I didn¡¯t even think before I reacted. I dropped like a rock from that building¡¯s edge, smashing into the pavement so hard that it got all three of the men¡¯s attention. I ran in human form straight at them. The large one with the gun got off only one shot as I ran at them like a wild animal. Lightning lit up the sky right before I got to them, thundering out instantly as the storm swirled overhead.

    I didn¡¯t transform since there were innocent people present. I had to keep my identity a secret as well as the monster¡¯s existence. I couldn¡¯t have more immortals sent from the pits beneath the city for me. The ancient elders down there thought that I had been taken care of were still a threat¡­ for now. So, I charged as a human to end these people. The shot rang out and hit me in the cheek as I ran. Blood erupted from my face as the bullet glanced off of my hardened skull and ricocheted down an alley.

    I never stopped. I hit the one with the gun first, caving in the side of his skull and sending him flying away from the van. Before the dealer could recover from the shock of the gunfire right beside his head, I pulled my silver blade from behind my back. I stuck it up through his bottom jaw and into his skull from below. The fat belly under the blue shirt bounced away as the goofy looking guy fled in his flip flops. He only got a few steps away before I moved like a wraith to his side and kicked in his right knee. He screamed in agony as his leg folded over on itself, bringing him to the pavement in a flat thud.

    Lightning flashed again, and two bodies lay dead on the pavement, another writhing in agony.

    Beer-belly screamed as he held his leg, still scooting away with his remaining three limbs. I couldn¡¯t have that. I stepped over to him and stomped his left-hand flat, turning his bones into splinters.

    I slowly walked back to the van where the drug dealer lay motionless just outside of the door, with my blade still wedged up through the palette of his mouth and into his brain. I pulled it from his grey matter and used his own dusty jacket to wipe the blood from the knife. I also picked up the gun that lay only a few feet from where the first guy was standing when he still had a skull that held its form.

    With the two dead, and the fat man disabled, I calmly walked to the van filled with terrified eyes. They watched me as I slew the men that took advantage of them. They saw me kill their captors, but they didn¡¯t know what I intended for them. I walked up to the entrance of the opened van and calmly reached out for the closest one¡¯s hands. All the rest wedged themselves in the furthest corners of the vehicle as they could. They were scared of me. The one that didn¡¯t move looked frozen in fear. Trembling like she was about to be eaten whole.

    As I stood in the open door¡¯s frame, I reached up and pulled the cloth gag out from the girl¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Please!¡± she begged. ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt us¡­ we won¡¯t tell anyone!¡± she was scared and crying.

    I never said a word to them. I just reached up to her hands and pulled her rope bindings towards me. She slowly eased forward as I pulled, too scared to stop me. I put my silver blade against the fibers of the bindings and sliced right through them. As soon as she realized she was free, I stepped to the side and let her out, guiding her out of the van with my right hand. Once she was standing beside me, I looked back at the others and held out my hand. One by one, they all slid forward, and I cut them free.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± one of the older girls asked.

    I turned and paced over to the drug dealer, who I knew had a phone. I saw him use it multiple times and put it back in the same pocket of his jeans since I had been following him. Just as soon as I reached into his pocket, I pulled it out and dialed 911. I handed it to a teenage boy I cut free. He barely looked at me as he opened his hands for the phone. Then I grabbed the gun by the barrel and gave it to one of the other girls standing right beside the boy with the phone. Her hand shook nervously as she reached for the gun, still scared of the demon that came from the shadows, even though I saved them. They saw what I did and how I moved in human form. They saw me take a bullet in the face and keep on moving. They also noticed that the facial wound had already healed and was completely gone.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    They knew, even though I saved them, I wasn¡¯t right. I was something to be feared.

    As the police dispatcher answered the emergency call, and the one girl was armed with her pistol, I backed away into the shadows. I faced them the whole way out of the scene, watching them watching me.

    ¡°You never saw me¡­ you heard them scream, and you heard something kill them.¡± Then I looked to the last of the three men laid out across the pavement with his two shattered limbs. ¡°All of them,¡± was all I said before disappearing into the shadows.

    It was only moments before I heard a loud shot rip out across the night. The bullet found its way inside of Mr. Suburbia. Then, not shockingly, the girl emptied the rest of the clip into him in an emotional furry. She then started crying. They all did.

    I waited that night for the police to arrive. It took a while since none of these poor souls knew exactly where they were, but they were found.

    I had to back away from the scene quite a way since sirens and flashing lights lit up the scene like Christmas in times square. Patrol cars, ambulances, even a fire truck turned the once dark place into a bright rescue. Once the authorities had them taken care of, I vanished from the area completely. I faded away under the cover of the encroaching storm, yet surprisingly, as soon as I saved them, it seemed like the winds died down, and the lightning had vanished. It was calm in the city, and the monster was quiet under the surface. Almost like the storm mirrored what was going on inside of me.

    Winter had fully set in, and my hunting grounds took on a biting atmosphere that covered the city in frost and ice. My first visit with the Chasse family was about four weeks after I had seen Carter and Autumn in their backyard. Only a week had passed since I killed those two human traffickers and the one man looking to buy some alone time. My adoptive family had gotten wind of what had happened. The details spoken by the young abducted made its circles through the media and had their suspicions that it was me. Eleanor was feeling better and, after seeing the story on the news, asked Carter to give me a call. I chomped at the bit to get back to them, excited to return to the way it had been before. Or whatever our new normal would be. Yet, I could quickly tell that things weren¡¯t the same. I felt different after I made the deal to save Eleanor¡¯s life. I still felt like myself, but there was something different. Something I couldn¡¯t put my finger on, but anytime I got close to returning to the Chasses, the feeling returned to my mind. It was a nagging feeling of¡­ I don¡¯t know. Resentment maybe. I didn¡¯t understand the feeling, so it was hard to put a name to it.

    I arrived at their sprawling family estate. a grand property tucked away against the skeletal woods in the far reaches of west St. Louis. Winter had cast its grip over the land, the trees stripped bare and shivering under a pale, overcast sky. The house loomed at the end of the drive. It was an imposing structure of aged brick and stone, where the old world met the new in a clash of work from different eras. Weather-worn gables and heavy, arched windows hinted at its storied past, while sleek, modern additions whispered of wealth and transformation. It was a place that carried the weight of history, every corner bearing the layers of time. Some parts revered and untouched, while some were reluctantly grafted on.

    The driveway curved gently off the street, its edges lined with brittle, frost-kissed grass that crunched under my feet as I made my way toward the house. The air was crisp, biting, with the scent of sleet lingering in the wind¡¯s sharp breath. The driveway hooked around the side, revealing an open three-car garage that stood like a quiet gateway. Its concrete walls echoing the solitude of the season. I paced forward, as ready as ever to see them again. My breath fogging before me in the chill of the air. Each step on the cobblestone walkway felt deliberate, measured, like I was treading on the echoes of the past. The things I had done. I felt that strange resentment bubbling deep within¡­ I didn¡¯t understand it. I forced it down.

    I approached the heavy front door, its frame adorned with tiny icicles clinging to the edges, a thin dusting of snow nestled in the corners. I knocked, the sound a dull thud that seemed to linger in the quiet stillness of the afternoon. The door swung open, and warm light spilled out, chasing away the cold. It was a welcome sight compared to the harsh, unforgiving world outside. The interior was bathed in the soft glow and fragrant aroma of candles burning deeper within. I stepped inside, shaking off the last remnants of winter¡¯s chill, and let the door close behind me with a quiet click, sealing me in the embrace of the Chasse¡¯s welcome invitation.

    Eleanor and Carter looked just like I remembered, maybe even younger and more revitalized. They seemed rested¡­ rejuvenated, although a lingering strain was just behind their eyes. Carter was still solid as a rock, the kind of strength that comes from years of dealing with things most people never even dream about. His dirty blonde hair was cut short, giving him a no-nonsense look, and his blue eyes were sharp and alert as he watched me step inside. He gave me a nod with a silent exhale, welcoming but cautious, like he was sizing me up even as he smiled. He was smart to be careful. They still had many questions.

    Eleanor, on the other hand, was like looking at an older version of Autumn, their resemblance almost uncanny. Her dark brown hair, nearly black, was tied back in a loose braid that hung down her back, a few strands escaping to frame her face. Her deep brown eyes widened when she saw me, recognition flashing across her features. She looked a little more tired than Carter, but still full of that same warmth I remembered.

    As soon as I walked in, Eleanor jumped up from where she was sitting. She rushed over, crossing the room in a few quick strides, and before I knew it, she had thrown her arms around me. She hugged me tight, like she¡¯d been waiting for this moment for a long time. Her grip was firm but gave away a slight tremble. It felt like she was making sure I was really there, not just a memory she¡¯d been holding onto.

    ¡°Sam¡­ I¡¯m so glad you came,¡± she said softly, like I was the prodigal son, finally returned.

    When I hugged her, I felt something weird. It wasn¡¯t the monster¡­ it was me. Just looking at her and talking with her made me feel something unexpected. Something about her seemed odd as well. Something deep within me stirred, hazing my clear mind and muddying the waters inside.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad I¡¯m here too,¡± I forced out. I was analyzing myself so hard to figure out what was happening in my mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry we haven¡¯t had you over sooner. We¡¯ve just wanted El to adjust a little more before seeing you,¡± Carter explained.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t remember everything about what happened,¡± Eleanor said. ¡°I wanted to talk to you¡­ if you were open to that.¡± Eleanor looked hopeful, but unsure how I¡¯d react.

    ¡°Annabelle has offered to open her mind up to relive the experience, but we¡¯re not sure if we want to do that. She might be repressing those memories for a reason,¡± it was a statement from Carter that was actually geared more like a question.

    ¡°You want me to tell you what happened?¡± I knew what they wanted, and just the thought of it brought up an emotional response in me. I felt something strong building in me, and I didn¡¯t want to talk about it.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Eleanor jumped at the question, hopeful.

    ¡°I¡­¡± I shook my head with apprehension. I couldn¡¯t talk about it. Standing in front of them made me feel like I was back there in the fields giving my life away again.

    Just looking at Eleanor stirred a deep anger inside me¡­ not the rage of the monster I¡¯d fought so hard to control, but the raw, simmering fury of my human side. It hit me then, that constant, nagging feeling that had been gnawing at the back of my mind for so long. Watching her walk around, talking, breathing, living her life¡­ it all made sense now. She was living the life that should have been mine.

    Every step of my existence had been stolen from me, piece by piece. It started that day when I was first taken from behind my house, ripped away from everything I knew. Then again when I left my family for the first time, walking away from the people who should have been my safe haven. The second time was when I found out about Caydee, my daughter¡ªa truth that tore open a whole new wound. It was a realization that I had lost way more than I originally thought, and it hurt in a way I didn¡¯t know I could endure pain. The third was when the Chasses discovered my secret, unraveling everything I had gained in this second life, leaving me scrambling to pick up the shattered pieces. And¡­ the final blow was when I handed over what little was left of my life to the being, all for Eleanor''s sake.

    She was walking around with everything that had been stripped from me, every choice and every moment I could never get back. It wasn¡¯t just jealousy. It was the bitter sting of realizing that my sacrifices had given her what I desired most. What I would never have.

    I knew, in the back of my mind, that I was the one that decided to do it. I chose this outcome, and I knew it was the right thing to do. But I still felt manipulated by Jon and the Entity in that other place. I realized that I was putting all my anger and frustrations into Eleanor. I wanted to stop¡­ but I was too angry. I couldn¡¯t figure out what else to do with it. Something was happening inside of me, and I couldn¡¯t stop it. Then I felt a switch in my mind flip. The resentment landed on the Chasse family.

    ¡°I can¡¯t do that,¡± I said coldly with no emotion.

    Eleanor was shocked. Her eyes were wide with concern that they had offended me, but also disappointed that I refused. She was stuck in a kind of fog of her own that she hadn¡¯t been able to escape since she came back. A part of me, the good part, wanted to help her, but the angry part didn¡¯t give a shit what anybody wanted. I wasn¡¯t going to help anyone but myself¡­ at all. I had given enough in my life.

    ¡°She can¡¯t sleep,¡± Carter said sullenly, trying to convince me. ¡°She hasn¡¯t been able to escape those thoughts of that day. It¡¯s like she¡¯s stuck there¡­ in that place.¡± Then he started telling more than Eleanor wanted to reveal. ¡°Somedays, all she does is sit out on the back patio and stare at the woods. It¡¯s like she¡¯s still there¡­ waiting for you to bring her back again,¡± he was interrupted by Eleanor.

    ¡°Carter¡­ that¡¯s enough!¡± Eleanor barked at her husband. ¡°If he¡¯s not ready to tell us, then we won¡¯t push.¡±

    Just then, Autumn came down from the second floor. Her eyes were wide with surprise at my arrival. She tried to maintain her emotions since she wasn¡¯t sure what she was supposed to feel about someone like me, but I could tell she was eager to see me again. Still, she quickly reigned in her distinct emotions. She could also sense the tone of the room.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Autumn said to me like she always did. She was beautiful. Her long hair was swept around to hang over her left shoulder. Her scent wafted over to me and filled my lungs. I wanted to move in on her the moment I saw her, but I knew we weren¡¯t in the same place as we once were. I also had too much anger and resentment towards¡­ all of them. Even her¡­ I knew I was wrong to feel this way¡­ but I couldn¡¯t stop it.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I responded, a little too much edge in my voice from the anger towards Eleanor and Carter.

    I really fought the feelings, but they just flooded me as I looked at Eleanor. She had my life. This was a mistake¡­ I shouldn¡¯t have come.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Autumn asked, aware that something was off.

    Eleanor answered earnestly, ¡°Sam isn¡¯t ready to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Autumn asked quickly. She looked taken by surprise, and a little annoyed. ¡°We¡¯re all aware, we know you¡¯re not human,¡± she belted out too quickly. I think she realized how it sounded as soon as she said it, but it still pissed me off.

    Everyone tensed at her words. There was a moment of silence, each of us taking a breath, trying to regain positive momentum in the situation. The tension was palpable, and everyone was confused at how this was playing out. No one¡¯s expectations included what was transpiring.

    ¡°I thought we were all in a good place. Why can¡¯t you tell us?¡± Autumn wanted answers for her mom, who was in apparent mental torment after everything she went through.

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated¡­¡± I raged inside and my voice showed it. I wanted this conversation to be over. I knew it now. It was a huge mistake to come over so soon. They may I have been ready¡­ but I was not.

    ¡°So, uncomplicate it!¡± Autumn was showing her frustration openly, unsure of how to deal with everything that was happening.

    I was getting angrier. Just hearing Autumn¡¯s tone set me even further over the edge. I felt like everyone was against me, everyone wanted something from me, but I never got what I wanted. I felt stripped down of everything I ever had in my life, and it had all been building up to this very moment. At first, it was just me, but then the monster¡¯s natural fury started feeding my rage. It was like a bad friend that hyped you up to do something you¡¯d later regret.

    ¡°Sam, I told you I wanted you around. I told you that you could protect my family in ways I couldn¡¯t. This is one of those ways. You can give Eleanor something I can¡¯t. You can give her the answers to what happened. You can give her peace,¡± Carter tried to reason with me.

    I snapped, ¡°What about me? When do I get peace? When does this end for me?¡± I barked in fury.

    I was actually yelling loudly at all three of them. My eyes pulsed out quickly as the first bit of my own strange transformation warped my face. My eyes bored into them as solid black voids of wrath.

    We all stood in silence for a moment. They were visibly shocked by my explosive attitude. They had only caught a glimpse of the bestial power that dark night, and they feared it. They were right to. My eyes had fully blackened, and I could feel my mouth burn as I clenched my teeth, fighting the shift. It all happened very fast, but I quickly reversed the process, shocked and ashamed of my anger towards them. I turned so they couldn¡¯t see my twisted face.

    Just like that, my first meeting was over. How did it go so wrong?

    ¡°Sam¡­ just go,¡± Eleanor spoke calmly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, or why you won¡¯t talk to us, but I¡¯d rather you leave than make things worse.¡±

    Leave? She wanted me to leave. After all I did for them¡­ for her. I could feel the cage being rattled inside. The beast was agitated. I had to get out of there.

    I shook my head, ¡°This was a mistake. I shouldn¡¯t have come back at all.¡±

    Autumn''s face fell quickly out of her angered expression and into one that looked unsure. Carter looked unhappy with the results of our first encounter, let down, even.

    I pulled the door open quickly. I felt my hand clench around the doorknob so hard that I crushed in the fancy metal orb. I was angry at myself for letting this unexpected feeling take me over as it had. As soon as it happened, I knew that it was me that fucked up. All the rage I felt simmered, and I started to think more clearly.

    I never looked back at them, I only said one thing before I left their house, ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry.¡± I left before anyone else could say a word. I had to get out of there. I had to cool down and think.

    ¡°Good job,¡± I berated myself as fled into the shadows of the trees.

    Then¡­ I went into quite the tailspin. One night, shortly after my first encounter with the Chasse family, I found myself back at Martin¡¯s bar.

    I was pacing the city and approached his place on foot right after sunset. It was barely open for the night when I came in. I had a question pop into my head. So, I walked right inside and who did I find behind the bar, Martin, the vampire.

    ¡°Sam,¡± he said after spinning too fast at the appearance of his first customer.

    ¡°Can you get drunk?¡± I asked, hopeful.

    He eyed me curiously for a second, ¡°Drunk?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Can we get drunk?¡± I amended it. ¡°I¡¯ve never really tried since I turned into this, and I could really use that right about now.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ there is a way for vampires, but I¡¯m not sure if it will work for you¡­¡± he was thinking about something. ¡°Is this about what happened the other night? Carter told me,¡± Martin informed.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. What do I need to do?¡± I asked curiously.

    ¡°Um¡­ sit down, I suppose,¡± Martin waved to a seat and disappeared, too fast for a human¡¯s eye to see, behind the kitchen. When he reappeared beside my table, Alex appeared just as quickly behind the bar to greet the first patrons into the establishment. They both registered the college kids come in and put on the guise of humanity.

    ¡°What can I get you guys,¡± she asked as two frat boys stepped inside. She shot a quick glance at me as I talked with Martin. The two men sauntered up to the bars edge, entranced with the redhaired woman¡¯s provocative figure; enticed and completely oblivious to her true nature.

    Martin held up a glass jar of a fine yellowish powder for me to see. ¡°This is a concentration of an herb. Hunters used to employ it as a poison for vampires back in the old days. It¡¯s called mentzelia laevicaulis, or blazingstar. They¡¯d concentrate it into a powder and then use it for various traps and weaponry. Until they discovered how much more effective silver was than this,¡± Martin explained as he dropped a couple pinches of yellow dust from a small vial into a glass of water. ¡°Now, a little goes a long way here,¡± Martin warned. ¡°A little bit will put a vampire on their ass in a few drinks¡­ so I gave you double.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°You going to charge me double?¡±

    Martin eyed me with an uneasy glance. ¡°What¡¯s going on with you?¡± Martin asked, obviously concerned. ¡°This isn¡¯t the Sam I¡¯ve seen over the past few months.¡±

    I tilted the cup of water back and drank the entire thing. Every speck of the yellow dust flowed down into my stomach and started doing something strange. I felt it almost instantly as I set the glass back on the table.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± I exclaimed. ¡°Oh, I feel it!¡±

    Martin continued to eye me with curiosity, ¡°What happened that day¡­ with Eleanor?¡±

    I looked up at the ceiling, feeling buzzed for the first time in a long time. I sighed at his questions, ¡°You too, huh?¡±

    ¡°They just want to make sure Eleanor will be alright. Can¡¯t you help them¡­ give them some kind of answer?¡±

    ¡°Eleanor will be fine,¡± I exhaled angrily. ¡°She¡¯s not the one who had to give something up,¡± I stopped myself before I spoke too much, but it was too late.

    ¡°What? What did you give up?¡± he asked quickly.

    ¡°Look, I don¡¯t want to talk about it. I just want to sit here and drink more of this shit,¡± I spoke slowly, not even looking at Martin. My eyes drilled into the center of the table as I calmed myself, really trying to relay the message that I didn¡¯t want to be fucked with.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Martin agreed, ¡°you can stay here as long as you want. I¡¯ll bring you a pitcher of water, and just sprinkle a little bit into your glass at a time. You don¡¯t want to overdo it. A little bit goes a long way.¡±

    ¡°Make it a pitcher of beer!¡±

    His warning meant nothing to me, and he shouldn¡¯t have told me I could stay for as long as I wanted. I fell off the deep end, hard!

    I spent a few days in Martin¡¯s¡­ literally. Every day, once he closed up, I would sleep in the booth he sat me down in, I¡¯d wake up about mid-afternoon only to continue my daily bender to escape from the world I hate. It was a very destructive few days of doing absolutely nothing but feeling sorry for myself. I stopped going to the safehouse altogether, except to shower and change clothes. Any other time, I was going to be as close to the source of the yellow dust as I could so I could escape the world for a while.

    Days turned into weeks, and I continued this way of living. Almost every night, I¡¯d grab a new vial of yellow dust, a pitcher of beer, and an empty glass to bring to my secluded table in the back corner of the bar. There were a few times that people got too close to my table, curious about the lone stranger who always drank by himself, and they wanted to investigate. Vampires and humans would wander over from time to time over the course of the bender I was on, but Martin would ward them off quickly. A few times, even Alex stepped in, at Martin¡¯s request, to keep people clear of me. I wasn¡¯t sure how much she knew, but she did as Martin asked. She even refilled my pitcher a few times. She didn¡¯t question why I was sleeping there, or how the herb affected me when she sensed me as only human.

    A few nights, before I poisoned myself at Martin¡¯s, I skulked in the shadows outside of my friends¡¯ homes. I followed Carter and Eleanor around town, watching them continue on with the business and the family life after I left. I traced Autumn¡¯s steps as she continued living out her life with her family and friends. She¡¯d go to school at the college, come home and train, and later on in the expanse of time I was absent, she started going out with friends. She was moving on¡­ and I hated myself for it.

    I came upon Frank and Jane one day, realizing that they had started to live together in Frank¡¯s house. Jane split her time with the pack and Frank pretty evenly now. She was very much in love with the burly red-haired hunter. After everything that happened, when the immortals came and almost whipped everyone out, they both just decided to jump in with both feet. I envied them. It seemed like while she was away, she put Bran in charge of the pack out in the Rockwoods area. I guess he really was her second. I still didn¡¯t like him.

    I listened in on a conversation once between Wayland, Clara, and Carter. Clara and Wayland didn¡¯t like the idea of me continuing to be around the family. Clara was more hesitant about writing me off completely, but Wayland was very protective of Delilah. His little daughter meant everything to him, and he wouldn¡¯t risk her around me, especially after my outburst in the Chasse house. He heard about how I let a little bit of the monster slip out and twist my face in rage. I had done severe damage to my relationships with them all. It didn¡¯t help that I cut contact with them while I hid away in my drunken pity party. I even made Martin keep my presence a secret. I told him if he told Carter where I was that I¡¯d burn down his bar¡­ with him in it. I was drunk when I said it, but I¡¯m pretty sure in the moment I really meant it. He hadn¡¯t told him anything yet, but I don¡¯t think it was because of the threat. The way he handled me when I was there was like he knew what I was going through. Maybe he had done something similar and knew I had to work my way through it on my own.

    I sat in that booth countless nights, reliving memories that played through my mind. I¡¯d whisper to myself like I was speaking to my brother, Seth, or my wife¡­ Vicky. I¡¯d talk to Caydee inside of my mind sometimes, apologizing to her for what I was, and for abandoning her that night. Then there were other times when I¡¯d replay the memories I had with the Chasses before they knew I was a monster.

    I regretted so much how I treated the Chasse family on my first trip back to their house. I hadn¡¯t spoken to them since that night. I was ashamed mostly, but then sometimes I¡¯d feel the resentment charge back into me. Carter called. Autumn called. Eleanor called, and even Frank. They were all looking for me. They wanted to know if I was okay and try and figure out what had happened that night. They knew that something was off with me but couldn¡¯t figure out what it was. They wanted to talk to me and help me through it. They still thought of me as family¡­ maybe. Maybe that was just my hope hanging on. Perhaps I was just a friend now¡­ or an acquaintance, or maybe they were just scared of what I¡¯d do now that I didn¡¯t seem so friendly. However, their calls faded over time, and eventually stopped. I felt alone again.

    I had ruined it. I just knew it. I sat in that booth every night, reliving my time before I fucked it all up. I didn¡¯t think they could trust me anymore.

    On a random night, Martin came and sat down at closing time. It was about three in the morning when they closed. Usually, he¡¯d let me stay until I decided to leave, but this night was different.

    ¡°Sam,¡± he said as he sat across from me. ¡°This has gone on long enough. Almost every night, you¡¯re in here wasting time. I know what you want, and I know that you think you¡¯ve lost them all, but you haven¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about, old man,¡± I spoke through my welcomed haze.

    ¡°Carter, Eleanor, Autumn¡­ you can still be a part of everything. I know you think you ruined it. I hear you talking to yourself every night you sit in this booth. But I can guarantee you that if you just come with me, and we talk with them¡­ together, we can work this out.¡±

    ¡°Just leave me alone, Martin,¡± I pleaded with him through my haze.

    ¡°How long can you keep this up?¡± he asked. ¡°If you wait too long¡­ they might move on. You¡¯ll just be a memory of a strange time they had with a strange man. Is that what you want?¡±

    His words hit me harder than I thought they would in my drunken state.

    I shook my head, ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°Well then, get up, come with me, and let''s go talk to them,¡± he said insistently.

    I had been coming out of the darkness that had cast itself over me since giving my life away. At first, it didn¡¯t hit me, but after some time passed, everything had started to set in. The reality of losing my life and having no escape darkened my personality. It angered me beyond words. With the way I was living I should have just returned to my hole in the forgotten structure of the factory. But¡­ I didn¡¯t want that, not really. These past few weeks of isolation had cleared my mind, not to mention the yellow herb that I had been consuming. It made me feel and think things that I¡¯d usually keep tucked away. I began to think I was finally ready to tell them the truth. To tell them what happened that early morning, when Eleanor came back from the dead.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I agreed.

    ¡°Wait¡­ really?¡± Martin was shocked at my response. He thought I¡¯d probably just tell him to fuck off.

    I was tired of feeling the way I did, and the herb was making me forget all the reasons I told myself to stay away. I needed to get everything off my chest. Maybe¡­ if I told them what I did for Eleanor, I could return. But, if I did tell them everything, then they¡¯d know it all. Even about my past life. Could I do that? Should I?

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I told Martin.

    Martin smiled to me, ¡°Okay son, let¡¯s go right now. I¡¯ll take you there myself.¡± Martin stood from the table. I think he was afraid if we waited, I¡¯d change my mind.

    I readied myself in the booth, nodding my head as I made the final decisions to do it. I put my hands on the table to lift myself from the seat. Then, all my plans were destroyed.

    ¡°RISE!¡± The dreadful voice of my master calling from the void. The words absolute.

    There in the emptiness of Martin¡¯s bar, I locked up. My hands gripped the edge of the table, crushing the wooden tabletop as my body froze into position. My muscles flexed and went rigid, stealing my ability to move. It overtook me before I could say a word. For the third time in my life, I got a vision.

    The world was ripped away and I was in darkness. Then images ripped and scrambled my active thoughts, force-feeding me information.

    A man stood in the privacy of his own home, cleaning a large, bloodied hunting knife. The crimson coated, stainless steel knife glimmered in front of his face, reflecting the flames that roared in his fireplace. His evil eyes reflected in the mirror finish of this weapon.

    Then I saw him swinging the blade somewhere else, slashing a blonde woman¡¯s throat in the damp greenery of the woods. He hacked away until she was limp, and blood slung from the blade with every stroke. Then, he was in a crowded subway station, shoulder to shoulder with everyone as they boarded a subway car. He pushed the blade violently into a young Hispanic boy as the subway lurched to a stop and everyone began moving. He faded away into the crowd as the boy dropped to the stampede of feet. The images flooded my mind. He killed, over and over again, taking and taking, destroying lives of countless people. He hid in crowds, isolated his prey, and remained untraceable by police. He was a chameleon, blending into the environment after the murders to never be suspected.

    He was standing in front of the fireplace again, the knife shiny and clean. There was an altar of wood with strange symbols carved into a circular pattern. The knife was stabbed into the altar. The man spoke strange words that I¡¯ve never heard before. The knife became red-hot like it was just pulled from a fire, smoke arose from the alter as the wood smoldered and then burst into flames. The symbols were glowing with power from the flaming wood. He reached out shakily, into the flames, for the blade he had killed so many with. He was hesitant of what would truly happen when his hand touched the weapon. Ultimately, he grabbed the blade. Then, everything returned to black.

    The voice spoke from the darkness, ¡°Timothy Grant!¡±

    My eyes returned to the world of the living, seeing Martin standing just as he was before the vision took me from this world. The moment the waking world rushed into view, I sucked a rush of air into my lungs, followed by some kind of unseen force that hit me like a truck. I exploded backwards into the booth, cracking the seat and wall behind me. A loud thud reverberated down the wall as I came to a stop.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Martin snatched the table out of his way, tossing it across the empty bar. ¡°What was that? Are you okay?¡±

    Alex rushed close to Martin, unsure of what I might do. She was there to protect Martin from me if needed. She didn¡¯t know anything, but she knew from the way Martin acted that I should be feared. She had no idea what had just happened, neither of them did.

    After that few seconds of recoil from the vision. I stood. I never spoke a word to them. I got up and started moving towards the door.

    Martin followed me all the way into the parking lot feverishly trying to figure out what had happened to me just then, but I never responded. I didn¡¯t feel the need. I only had one need. I had to find Timothy Grant¡­ and kill him.

    Once in the clear air of the parking lot, I stopped. I felt the beast pulse out a wave in my mind. I knew what it was, my senses were opening, and I was searching. In only the time it took me to take in and expel one full breath, I knew which direction I needed to go.

    I never looked back or spoke to Martin. I just ripped forward in a rush of speed, never slowing or stopping. I left the city of St. Louis behind me and was going to the only place that mattered. I was hunting.

    <hr>

    Visions came, bodies piled up, and I stayed away from my friends for a long time. After Timothy Grant, I thought I¡¯d go straight back to St. Louis. I didn¡¯t. They kept coming; more visions, more killers that needed to be delt with. All of them involved in twisted, supernatural shit to make themselves more than they were supposed to be. It never ended. There was way more if it in the world than I ever thought or imagined. The world was big¡­ and there was evil creeping in every corner.

    After maybe twelve names or so, I had been back and forth across the country a couple times. San Francisco, Detroit, New York, small towns I¡¯d never heard of. I went everywhere on these hunts. When I found them, and the drive to kill cleared, I realized that no matter what I wanted¡­ this was my life now. I would always be on the move, until the dark voice gave me time to rest.

    So¡­ I stayed on the road. I lived out of wherever I could. I didn¡¯t have to wait long before the visions came again. Names and images were constantly flooding my head. I only ever had maybe a week, two tops, before a new person had their fate sealed and the minutes numbered until I could get to them.

    I was more in tune with the monster inside now than I ever had been. I had been doing this nonstop for about six months or so, give or take a few weeks. It was hard to really keep track of time when I was in one of my hunting states. Time wasn¡¯t a concern anymore. I had nowhere to be, no matter how much I wanted to be other places¡­ with other people.

    One night, when I was free from the call of the being, I rested against a large oak tree in the middle of some nameless woods. As I sat on the ground, I opened a small bag I had with me. In it were the few things I couldn¡¯t part with. They kept me human, reminding me of the good things I had in my life at various points. The bag helped me remember that there were things other than this life of killing. The items kept me grounded, leaving the door cracked enough for me to step away from the monster again, if I ever got the chance to feel normal once more. I had become very protective over my bag. I made sure to hide it places when I knew things would get bloody. I had a few pictures of the Chasse family, and a few other mementos that reminded me of good memories. I stole the photos from their house in the beginning of my drunken haze at Martin¡¯s. I was creeping on them, feeling sorry for myself, and saw an opportunity to rush in while no one was looking. I just wanted something to remind me of them. Maybe it was a little weird. Stalkerish, but fuck it¡­ I did it anyways.

    I looked to a picture of Autumn. I reached out and touched one of her more recent photos. I missed her, not just the physical attraction, but I missed the way I felt when I was around her. At first, it started out as just a reminder of how I felt around Vicky, but it had evolved into something personal with her. I no longer compared her to Vicky in my mind. My time with her was precious and personal. I wanted it back. It had been a long time since she saw me¡­ and I honestly didn¡¯t know if anything would still be there for her. I didn¡¯t know if she, or any of them, would recognize me anymore. I had so much blood on my hands.

    Then, I glanced at a family picture from years back. It had her whole family, even her older brother, Allen. Carter had told me that he had passed away on a hunting trip with the family. I felt horrible for them the night he told me that. They had lost a lot in their lives as well. They too were just trying to survive in this dark world. Their son was taken¡­ dead.

    Then, I felt a pulse in the back of my mind. The monster inside was feeling something.

    I picked up the picture and held it closer to my face. I was drawn into the image of Allen for some strange reason. When I looked at his face, I felt something. It was like a force that I could feel emanating off the small photo. I knew what it was in an instant. It was almost as powerful as when I felt a name being given to me by the voice. However, it wasn¡¯t a death that was required. When I looked at Allen¡¯s face in the photo, I felt life. Like what was in my mind didn¡¯t agree with what the beast felt from inside his cage. I couldn¡¯t explain it, but I started to realize that he was alive. Allen Chasse was not dead. I could feel him.

    I was so focused on what I had just uncovered that I hadn¡¯t realized I was already returning the items to my small bag as I started walking. I had already formulated a plan and was about to carry it out.

    I knew Allen was alive, and I was going to get him back. I felt something in me that manifested quickly. I was going to get Allen back for them, no matter where he was or what was going on. They were my family, no matter what they thought of me. I loved them all, and this was someone that they loved. I¡¯d go get him and bring him back, even if they didn¡¯t want me around afterward. I prayed they would.

    I saw everything so clearly now that I couldn¡¯t understand why I was so angry at Eleanor before. I made that decision¡­ not her. I¡¯d make it again, right now if I had to.

    I wanted to do this. I had to do this for them. I had to do this for Allen too. I didn¡¯t know what had happened to him entirely, but it didn¡¯t matter. I¡¯d find him, and I¡¯d bring him back to his family. I had been killing for so many months on the road that it felt beyond good to know I was going to do something different. I was going to directly save a life.

 Chapter 35 - Life Goes On (Carter)

    Sam was gone. I hadn¡¯t seen him in months, none of us had. The last time I saw his face, it was an ominous surge of anger that petrified us in our own home. After that¡­ he just disappeared.

    We had seen a news article about a human trafficking ring that had been busted open. There was a van full of missing kids that were saved by some kind of ¡°shadow.¡± That¡¯s what one of the boys called him. They said they just heard something killing the men outside of the van, and then they were set free by the hooded figure. That¡¯s all they said, but we knew it was him. Sam had saved them. It fit everything we had discovered about him, his motives and personality.

    Eleanor wanted to check on him. She knew it was him the story spoke of, and she worried. He had killed three men that night to save those kids from the fate they had been thrust into. Those three men were human, and this worried El. She always said that something happened to Sam in that place where he took her. She just couldn¡¯t remember anything more.

    Once we reached out and had him over, it all crumbled quickly. We questioned him too fast. We should have eased into it since we still didn¡¯t know too much about his true nature. He wasn¡¯t even inside of our house five minutes before he left in a flash of anger. His eyes darkened rapidly right in front of us. Autumn, Eleanor, and I all saw the anger shift his attitude quickly. We were shocked that he wouldn¡¯t tell us what had happened to him and Eleanor that day, but we wouldn¡¯t push anymore. Something about what happened had set him off. But why had it happened then, and not when he first came back?

    After that unfortunate meeting, I didn¡¯t see him again. It was weeks before Martin told me that Sam had been basically living out of his bar. More often than not, he¡¯d pass out from all the blazingstar powder Martin was giving him. From what Martin told me, Sam was not in a good place. Martin also told me that Sam had been sporadically staying in his safehouse we built for him a few years back. I knew exactly where he might be the whole time, but I didn¡¯t go to him. I never told Eleanor or Autumn either. If Eleanor knew where he was, I know she would have gone to him on her own. If Autumn knew¡­ well, I don¡¯t know what she would have done. I think in the beginning she had hoped that she could salvage some kind of relationship with him, even though I didn¡¯t like the idea of them being close again. But now I wasn¡¯t sure what she felt. There was a definitive line between us now. I felt it, and I know Sam had to feel it.

    Shortly after that, Martin told me what happened the last time he saw Sam. From what Martin described, Sam went into some kind of trance for a few moments. He said it was quick, but when he came out of it¡­ he said it was like Sam was a whole other person. He never said a word. He never even looked at Martin¡­ it was like he wasn¡¯t even there. Then he disappeared.

    After that, I was honest with the girls about what I knew. I told Eleanor and Autumn everything Martin had told me. They were both pissed, understandably. They both said they would have gone to him, but that¡¯s exactly why I didn¡¯t want them to know. Now they couldn¡¯t talk to him, he was gone. We all wondered where he went¡­ what he really was¡­ I wondered if I¡¯d ever see him again. The girls were both hurting for a long time. We didn¡¯t tell anyone else that we knew where he had been, but we did tell everyone he was gone.

    We spoke about him often, called him here and there, but eventually time wore on. Life continued, and work needed to be done. The city had been in a state of quietness the last little while, our hunts very few and far between while Sam was around. Now that he was gone, and not even Martin knew where he was, it was like the creatures returned to the city. The tempo started to pick back up.

    As the month¡¯s past, Autumn started off quiet and secluded in her room, but most nights, she stayed inside of her dorm. The longer Sam was gone, the harder she dove back into school and spent time with her friends. At one point, she had gone out with some friends and even brought Patrick Wicklow along, which was strange to me since I knew she wasn¡¯t happy with him in the past. I think she still thought of him as just a friend, but I knew he didn¡¯t. I just hoped she wasn¡¯t acting out and doing things she¡¯d regret later. She honestly seemed kind of cold whenever the subject of Sam came up. Part of me was happy with that. I knew she had real feelings for Sam, but she was my daughter. I had to protect her from the things in this world, even if we thought Sam was safe to be around. He would never be normal; he wasn¡¯t able to give Autumn something real. Not like she could have with a¡­ human. It pained me to think these things after all he had done for us. After giving me my wife back. But it was a truth I couldn¡¯t ignore, especially when it came to Autumn. I loved her too much to let her go off with some murderous goliath.

    Winter crept by, but not a single day of it passed without Eleanor waiting outside on the back patio, staring into the woods. It turned into her morning routine; brew some coffee, grab a crossword, and just sit out on the back patio. She rarely completed the puzzles. She was waiting for something¡­ or someone. She¡¯d never really talk about it. I¡¯d ask, but she¡¯d just brush it off. She¡¯d assure me she was just clearing her head. She worried me.

    We were still unsure exactly how Sam had brought her back. The Wicklows made it abundantly clear that even with necromancy, you can never fully return someone from the dead. However, Eleanor was here like nothing had happened to her. She was excellent, obviously affected by something, but it was her. This made all our desires to know more about Sam intensify. The Wicklows couldn¡¯t explain it. They knew nothing that could explain how she was brought back from death¡¯s door.

    Martin kept his feelers out for me, notifying me anytime he thought he might have heard even a whisper of something that sounded like it could be Sam.

    I felt sorry for Sam more and more as the time passed. Martin said he drank himself into a hole every single night he was at his bar, spiraling down into darkness. Martin said he could see the sadness in Sam, but he could never get him to open up about anything. Martin told me he could hear him talking to himself at times. I wished I knew where he was.

    Then one night, I was lying in bed next to Eleanor, dead asleep. Suddenly, Eleanor yelled out for me in tears.

    ¡°Carter!¡±

    It was almost a whimpering cry like she had been punched in the gut. As soon as her scream reverberated throughout the room. I jumped from the sudden scream, instantly awake.

    ¡°El¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡± I asked, confused, trying to reach over to her and calm her. I hit the lamp on her bedside table.

    She was burning up, sweating feverishly. She sat up in our bed, crying uncontrollably. She was sobbing like someone had just died. I hadn¡¯t seen her this emotional since the day we found out about what happened to Allen.

    I spoke up again, ¡°Eleanor, what is it?¡±

    Autumn came running from down the hall. She heard the scream and shot up from bed immediately. She busted into the room only moments after I was up. The fear of losing her mother again remained ever-present in the back of her mind.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Eleanor tried to speak through the raw emotion that was choking her up.

    ¡°Mom, what¡¯s wrong? What happened?¡± Autumn asked anxiously as she stood in the dark beside our bed.

    ¡°It¡¯s Sam¡­¡± Eleanor stuttered.

    ¡°What about him?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Where is he?¡± my wife cried, wiping the tears from her eyes.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, sweetie,¡± I answered.

    El was crying, like she was talking to him, ¡°Sam¡­ I am so sorry¡­¡±

    ¡°What about him, Mom? What¡¯s happening?¡± I heard the emotion in Autumn as she joined her mom in tears. Eleanor¡¯s anguish filled the room, confusing and scaring us both.

    Eleanor¡¯s watery eyes looked straight into mine, ¡°Carter¡­ I remember everything.¡±

    In the dark of the room, I saw right into her eyes. She did know. She remembered everything that happened to them in that other place. Even though Elanor was crying her eyes out, I knew that she finally had peace about what happened there. But something about it tore at her from the inside.

    We had spent most of the night trying to console Eleanor and calm her down. Eleanor hadn¡¯t fully explained what she meant earlier in the night; everything she was remembering had her crying in fits every few minutes at first, then every hour or so. After few hours of this, it was just a few stray tears that would trickle past her eyelids.

    Until she was ready, Eleanor just sat on the back patio, just as she had for the past six months, curled up in a large lawn chair as she gathered her thoughts. I called everybody.

    Slowly throughout the morning, everyone had gathered at our large house for the first time since the day Eleanor had died. We had all converged on our house after we fled from the immortals, Mercy, and Phineas.

    The Wicklows: Bartley, Shelta, Sarah, Patrick, and Annabelle had all arrived. This was the first time I had seen Shelta in a while. She had been absent from almost all our dealings with Sam, but her family kept her well informed. Clara, Wayland, Delilah, Frank, and Jane all arrived as quickly as they could. None of the other Talbots had come, however. Jane was their matriarch, and she¡¯d pass along the information to them as she saw necessary.

    I called Martin as soon as things calmed down in the middle of the night. He rushed over while the sun was still down, very much wanting to hear what Eleanor had to say. He stayed with us, sticking to the shadows after the sun breached the horizon.

    We were all outside, quietly waiting around the covered patio as we gave Eleanor some space. She had moved her padded wicker chair away from the covered area and sat it in the grass as she stared into the trees, gathering her thoughts. Her makeup had run down from her eyes, but she didn¡¯t care. Whatever she had seen ripped everything else away, filling her mind for the time being.

    ¡°How long has she been like this?¡± Sarah, Bartley Wicklow¡¯s wife asked. She and Eleanor we¡¯re friends, but she hadn¡¯t spent much time with her after everything that had happened. I could tell that Sarah was worried for her.

    ¡°Off and on¡­ ever since she woke up last night,¡± I answered.

    After a few minutes of everyone standing around the patio waiting, Eleanor stood from her chair. She walked back over to the rest of us, pacing through the chill of the backyard with nothing but her light clothing she awoke in. She dabbed the corners of her eyes as she took a seat next to Annabelle, who reached over and patted her crooked hand on my wife¡¯s shoulder.

    The eldest Wicklow had so much knowledge, experience, and wisdom. But right now, she didn¡¯t know what to do to help.

    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready, dear,¡± Annabelle reassured.

    She took a deep breath, and then began, ¡°I remember everything.¡± She took another second or two. ¡°I remember being on the couch,¡± she pointed to the inside of the house, ¡°falling asleep. I was¡­ tired. Then, the next thing I remember was standing in that place beside Sam.¡±

    ¡°Just like before?¡± Bartley double-checked.

    ¡°Yes. Everything I remember did happen, but now I can see all of those gaps and missing pieces. It¡¯s like everything is back in focus,¡± she explained.

    ¡°What happened El,¡± Frank nudged her to continue.

    ¡°When I was¡­ aware again, and I saw where I was¡­ I was confused. I saw Sam¡­ he said, ¡®You¡¯re alive, I knew it.¡¯ He knew he could bring me back, or at least he sounded pretty sure he could.¡± She played out her memories carefully. She stared into the distance as she focused inwards, towards her memories as she recalled them. ¡°I told him we were all sorry for what happened, and that Autumn,¡± she motioned to our daughter, ¡°didn¡¯t mean to shoot him that night when we found out he wasn¡¯t human. Then he told me that I had gotten hurt, and I started to remember everything. I realized that I had died. I was scared for all of you¡­ and what you¡¯d have to do without me here.¡± Eleanor began getting emotional again. ¡°I just didn¡¯t want to leave all of you¡­ my family.¡±

    I rushed over to her side, putting my arm around her, ¡°El, it is okay. You¡¯re here now. You¡¯re safe. We all are.¡±

    She breathed deeply to calm herself enough to continue as fresh tears spilled over her eyelids.

    ¡°There was another man there. His name was Jon. Sam was talking to him, asking him to bring me back. He blamed himself for Phineas killing me, and he kept saying that he ¡®wouldn¡¯t do it anymore,¡¯ if they didn¡¯t bring me back.¡± She actually raised her hands and quoted with her fingers.

    ¡°They?¡± Annabelle asked curiously.

    ¡°There was another out there with us, besides Jon and Sam. He came after. First, Jon told him that they couldn¡¯t just send me back,¡± she explained. ¡°That¡¯s when Sam kind of lost it. He started screaming at Jon, saying he had already lost too much. He¡¯d given up his family, he said he had a twin brother, a wife, and a daughter¡­¡± She began sobbing through her words, ¡°He wanted me to tell you he was sorry, Carter. He said he was sorry he didn¡¯t tell you the truth.¡±

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    I clenched my jaw. That felt like a punch to the gut. After everything I thought about him. How I felt about him being close with Autumn. He cared about me, and what I thought¡­. It made me feel horrible. Like I was looking into a mirror and seeing all the wrong thoughts and choices that spawned from me. I had gotten close to Sam¡­ thought of him as family. He was family, and I was the main reason we came at him so fiercely in the beginning. I should have treated him better.

    Then Eleanor turned to Autumn, ¡°Sweetie, he said he really cared for you. He never lied about that.¡±

    I felt a knot start to lump up in my throat. We were all more affected than I think any of us thought we would be. Wayland had a visible reaction when Eleanor said he had a daughter. None of us saw that coming. I glanced over at Autumn, who was staring down at Eleanor¡¯s feet as she spoke. She was lost in her head as these new revelations were uncovered. She tried to maintain her composure in front of us, but I knew that on the inside Autumn was falling apart. I could see her hand shaking as she wiped the mist from the corners of her eyes.

    ¡°He thought he lost us¡­ he thought of us as his new family,¡± Eleanor continued. ¡°Then, Jon said that he could send me back if Sam traded his life for me. I think Sam thought he was killed when he was changed into¡­ whatever he is, but Jon said he never really died¡­ I think. He could have gone back to his normal life if he wanted. Jon acted like he had some kind of choice about being that thing he turns into.¡± She took a few moments to remember the events clearly. ¡°Then, Sam looked at me and said I was going back. That¡¯s when the other started to show up. There was a feeling out in that place that was like nothing I have ever felt before. It was overwhelming, like a pressure pushing down on my whole body.¡±

    ¡°Who was it?¡± Bartley asked.

    ¡°They never said a name or anything, but Jon kept saying that ¡®He¡¯ will make the trade. Whoever, or whatever it was, had power like I¡¯ve never felt before. Like nothing we have ever faced. I wasn¡¯t there much longer after that. Once Sam had decided, it was only another minute I was there. I remember everything, but it was mostly panic at that point. The fear of the third person that was approaching us clouded my mind. It was hard to think clearly. Then, I was in the water, swimming to the top for air. That¡¯s when you found me,¡± she looked to Annabelle.

    We all spoke at length about everything Eleanor had said she remembered from her time in that other place. None of us could make heads or tails of where, or who the others were. We were only sure of one thing; Sam had sacrificed much more for our family than we ever knew. I think that¡¯s why he had acted the way he did¡­ it had to be. He had given up his chance to be human again and return to his own family. He chose to save my wife and stay as that thing; the ruthless killer that claimed countless lives since it entered the city limits of St. Louis. The one thing I learned about Sam through all of this was that¡­ he didn¡¯t want to be that thing.

    ¡°There was one other thing that stuck out while I was there,¡± Eleanor said, regaining our attention. ¡°Just before Jon spoke about Sam¡¯s chance to go back to his life, or trade his for mine, he was talking about Mucia. Wasn¡¯t that the name you said he spoke to the witch, Mercy?¡± she asked Annabelle.

    ¡°Yes¡­ it was,¡± Annabelle perked up, looking very intrigued at this piece of information.

    ¡°Jon told Sam that the other thing was willing to make the deal for him since he had brought ¡®Mucia¡¯ to her final rest. They talked about her more but¡­ everything was too intense.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Martin said from underneath the shadows of the awning.

    ¡°Very,¡± Bartley agreed.

    ¡°He still hasn¡¯t shown back up?¡± Wayland asked Martin.

    ¡°No,¡± Martin replied. ¡°He was going to come with me that night¡­ ready to talk. I think he was finally ready to be honest about what happened. But whatever happened to him that night in the bar¡­ when he locked up like that¡­ I can¡¯t explain it. It was like he wasn¡¯t even there. But it changed everything that night.¡±

    <hr>

    Life continued, and a long time passed after Eleanor had recovered her memory. Sam was still a ghost. He never revisited the bar, nor did he return to the safe house that he was borrowing from our mutual vampire friend. We even went back to the old, dilapidated factory, but there was nothing. Jane sniffed the whole place out. She said nobody had been in there in a while. We were in the dark. We couldn¡¯t do anything to find him.

    Sometimes when I thought about everything that Sam had done for us, I¡¯d get choked up and to the point of tears. I picture myself in his shoes, living his life after losing my family like he did. It was¡­ rough to even pretend about. It felt like he was another son¡­ and I lost him just like Allen. He fit in so well with us, and he was willing to do things for this family that none had ever done before. But Sam was dealing with the loss of his life, again. He had been in hiding since he was transformed, and now he lost the chance to go back. I could understand why he was so angry before. He was trying to deal with it all, and we were just prying for answers. We didn¡¯t even ask how he was. I just hoped that wherever he was¡­ he was okay. And, I hoped he would come back¡­ back home.

    We carried on with life, waiting to see Sam turn a dark corner at any moment. Yet, as time passed, we never saw him. Everything was entirely as normal as it usually was with our joint hunting families. That is, until I got a call that would change everything.

    I was sitting inside my office on the second floor of my house, trying to get some work done for the company. We had a remodel contract for a series of buildings in the downtown area. It was a lot of work for the company, with the other projects we had going on, but it was a perfect placement to expand a section of warding in the city if we employed our silver alloy in the work. It would connect two different sections of warding that would now overlap and close a four-block gap that would lock creatures into a greater area and keep them in a weakened state. This would be a boon for hunting beyond anything we had done in the last few years. We bid real low on the contract with the city to ensure we got it. We may have lost money in the long run, but we would gain a massive advantage when out on hunts, fighting and making escapes.

    I felt the buzzing inside my pocket. I pulled out my phone to see Frank was calling me.

    ¡°Frank, what¡¯s going on?¡± I asked my brother, assuming business was the reason.

    ¡°Carter,¡± he said very delicately over the speaker.

    I shot out of my seat in a cold sweat at the sound of his tone. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± His tone was unlike him.

    ¡°Carter¡­ I need you to listen to me. Don¡¯t panic¡­ nothing is wrong, but I need you to get Eleanor and Autumn, and come out to Jane¡¯s house right now,¡± he slowly explained. I had heard Frank this serious only few times before. Something was definitely wrong.

    ¡°Frank, what¡¯s happening?¡± I urged him to tell me. ¡°You¡¯re freaking me out? Is it Sam?¡±

    ¡°No, Carter. Just do what I ask¡­ please. Come out here, now. It¡¯s nothing bad¡­ or dangerous¡­ you just have to see this for yourself.¡±

    I wanted him to just tell me over the phone. Part of me was angry with him, but I knew that whatever he was doing was what he thought was right. I just didn¡¯t like the stress of his voice¡­ something was¡­ I don¡¯t know.

    I wrangled El and Autumn together in about five minutes, and we were out the door.

    ¡°Carter, what did he say?¡± Eleanor asked.

    ¡°Is it something about Sam?¡± Autumn spoke from the back seat.

    ¡°No¡­ I don¡¯t know, really. Frank didn¡¯t say what it was¡­ he just said we had to see this for ourselves,¡± I explained to them.

    What could be so bad that he couldn¡¯t explain over the phone?

    It was a short drive to the werewolf encampment, but it seemed like an eternity. There were not that many cars around the single level house like there usually was. The only vehicles I saw were Frank¡¯s, Jane¡¯s, and one other I didn¡¯t recognize. It was probably Bran. He was Jane¡¯s second in line to lead. She trusted him and usually had him around for things.

    We all bailed out of the Suburban and began walking to the door, anxious for whatever Frank thought he needed to show us. His urgency worried me. He was never this high strung. We stopped as we saw Frank step out of the front door and put his hands up to us to ease our approach. My big brother paced out, red hair still framing his head in that stupid mullet he sported. He did it only to antagonize me at work, but it just made him look more foolish in this serious situation.

    ¡°Carter¡­ I need you to listen to me,¡± Frank grabbed my attention. ¡°This is going to be a shock for everyone. It¡¯s going to be hard to believe¡­ but it¡¯s true.¡± Frank teared up as he spoke.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Frank? What happened?¡± I begged my brother for an answer. He was visibly moved by something, but I couldn¡¯t tell what it was.

    ¡°Frank¡­ you¡¯re starting to scare me,¡± Eleanor¡¯s voice cracked at the sight of Frank''s emotion.

    ¡°Just trust me, El¡­¡± Frank asserted. ¡°I need you all to meet someone.¡± He reached back, motioning with his left hand back to the door.

    We all three looked back to the door behind him to see Jane¡¯s large muscular frame stepping out with someone in tow. Once her dark hair swung out and away from the door, we could see him. At first, I thought it was another one of her family, but this guy looked a little different¡­ familiar. His hair was long blonde and tied behind his head. The man stepped out from around Jane and revealed his face to us.

    When I saw his face, I had a moment where I didn¡¯t recognize the eyes looking back, but then I saw him. Behind the scruff, behind the more weathered and hardened look, was a familiar face. It didn¡¯t make sense¡­ but I knew who was looking back at me. It was¡­ Allen. It was my son¡­ my boy.

    The knot in my throat choked me as I stumbled forward. My feet felt like weights as I tried to move to him, ¡°Allen,¡± I barely got out before my knees gave a little, almost dropping me to the ground.

    ¡°Dad¡­¡± he spoke to me, through strained emotion, for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime.

    He ran forward, past Jane, and crashed into me. We collided into a strong hug. Eleanor was already streaming tears out of her face and had run as fast as she could to us. She clawed past me to her firstborn, scrambling to touch him again. She was crying all over Allen, smashing her face into the side of his; trying to feel him and make sure he was real. I didn¡¯t think she had any tears left after everything that had been going on, but she did. We all did.

    Autumn took a second or two longer to register what was happening, and who was standing in front of her. Then she realized it. This was her brother.

    In Jane¡¯s yard, our family was reunited again. We all fell to our knees and just sat down in the blooming spring yard. We were all crying. I fought it, but I couldn¡¯t hold it back any longer. My boy was alive. I had a million questions, but none of them really mattered. He was alive, and he was safe.

    Clara and Wayland eventually arrived to find us all still in the yard. They both had their own tearful reunion with Allen. The entire family was there, and we were whole again.

    ¡°Allen¡­ how is this possible. We thought you were gone, sweetie,¡± Clara asked.

    ¡°It is a very long story, Aunt Clara. But,¡± he said, ¡°it is one that I need to tell you all.¡± Allen¡¯s voice changed to a more stable and severe tone. He looked behind him to the front porch of the Talbot residence. He motioned to an unfamiliar looking girl. She had very dark skin and hair to match. Her eyes looked cautious but happy. She walked over to us at Allen¡¯s request, nervously holding her hands together in front of her.

    ¡°Hello,¡± the girl spoke to us all, slowly. A thick accent choked her words.

    ¡°Mom, Dad, this is Eloise. She¡¯s a werewolf¡­ like Jane,¡± Allen informed. ¡°Her family was killed by the same pack that got me. Then, she was cursed to become a werewolf and join the same pack.¡±

    ¡°You were cursed?¡± I asked. ¡°How did they do that?¡±

    ¡°Oui¡­¡± she answered in French. ¡°I mean¡­ yes,¡± she repeated herself in English.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know how exactly, but it wasn¡¯t any of the actual pack that did it to us,¡± Allen¡¯s response was subtle but earthshattering.

    ¡°Us?¡± Eleanor asked, eyes wide and blank.

    Allen was silent for a moment as he gazed at all of us with fear, ¡°Yes. I didn¡¯t die out on that hunt¡­ I was cursed.¡± He waited for our minds to finish racing before he continued. ¡°I¡¯m a werewolf now¡­ Mom.¡±

    Eleanor was frozen like a rock. Her tears began to flow again before she grabbed Allen¡¯s arms in a panic, scared for him, ¡°Allen, are you okay?¡± She worried.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mom, really. I¡¯ve been like this ever since I went missing from that hunt with our cousins. Whoever it was that cursed me did it right after our hunt went bad. I¡¯ve had enough time to adjust and learn how to live with it.¡±

    Eleanor cried for Allen. She didn¡¯t care that he was a werewolf, she just hated that he now had to live like that for the rest of his life. He wouldn¡¯t have a normal life or the close substitute that we lived with.

    Eloise spoke up, ¡°Allen saved me from the alpha many times. He is a good man.¡± Her English was strained, but you could tell she was learning. She sounded like she talked straight out of a text book, not a syllable of slang anywhere in her words.

    ¡°Son, how¡¯d this happen? Where¡¯ve you been this whole time?¡± I asked.

    ¡°France, but we never stayed in one place too long; our pack was nomadic. Eloise and I, and a couple others, we tried to escape a few times. It was useless. When we could get away from the pack, they¡¯d always find us. We¡¯d never get far before they¡¯d track and drag us back. The punishments for running were¡­ severe,¡± he almost winced as he remembered. ¡°We just kind of gave up after they caught us trying to run in Paris. We¡¯ve been with the pack ever since.¡±

    ¡°How did you get away?¡± Autumn asked. ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll find you all the way here in America?¡±

    ¡°No. They are not coming¡­¡± Eloise softly spoke.

    ¡°They¡¯re all dead,¡± Allen added.

    Jane cut in, ¡°What about the one that cursed you? Did they die too?¡±

    ¡°No, we don¡¯t know who they were, but we always knew that it wasn¡¯t anyone from our pack. It was someone else. Darry, our alpha, he¡¯d make contact with them when he had taken someone as a prisoner to be turned. He¡¯d do that from time to time when we lost someone, or he felt like the pack needed to be stronger. For them it was common. They had a link with someone that knew exactly how to do it.¡±

    ¡°How did they do it?¡± Jane asked. She seemed very interested in the cursing process.

    ¡°We don¡¯t really know,¡± Allen answered. ¡°I was cursed after I had been attacked on the hunt. I was barely alive when it happened. Once I was a werewolf, I healed from my injuries and never saw another ritual.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I too do not remember. I was very young when it happened,¡± Eloise answered apologetically.

    I walked past everyone to Allen and pulled him in again, ¡°It¡¯s okay, son. I don¡¯t care. You¡¯re still my son, and I love you. We¡¯re not going to lose you again¡­ we¡¯ve lost too many people.¡± I started to get choked up as I remembered the day, I got the call about Allen¡¯s hunt going bad. I remembered the way Eleanor looked on that couch when the lights faded from her eyes as the chimera¡¯s venom spread throughout her body. We had been through hell, but now we had been given a gift. Nobody else needed to say it, but we were all on the same page. Allen was still Allen, and we¡¯d protect him just like any other member of our family.

    ¡°So how did you escape, Allen? What did you two do to get out of there?¡± Wayland asked, still trying to figure out the details.

    Eloise and Allen looked to each other cautiously. Eloise tilted her head slightly, unsure of what to say. They looked like they were scared of something.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t do anything,¡± Allen answered slowly. ¡°It was something else. It killed everyone. When it was all over, there wasn¡¯t a single member of the pack left standing¡­ except for us.¡±

    Jane jumped in, ¡°What? How could something do that? What was it?¡± A small hint of fear for her own family piqued her curiosity.

    ¡°How did you get away, sweetie?¡± Eleanor asked next.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what or who it was¡­ but¡­¡± Allen looked like he was struggling to speak the words. He looked back to Eloise.

    Eloise was afraid. Her jaw clenched in fear. She was shaking her head to Allen, begging him to stop.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked them both, seeing the fear in Allen now as well.

    ¡°Nothing¡­ we don¡¯t know what it was,¡± Allen cut me off bluntly. He didn¡¯t seem like he wanted to talk about it.

    ¡°But how did you get away when no one else did? Wayland asked. ¡°How did you get back here?

    ¡°We had¡­¡± Allen struggled to find words. He didn¡¯t seem like he wanted to talk about specifics for some reason.

    Eloise was gripping his arm tightly, trying to gain his attention.

    ¡°I can¡¯t talk about it¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I know you¡¯re all just trying to understand but¡­ I can¡¯t¡­¡± Allen admitted defeatedly.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay sweety,¡± Eleanor assured. ¡°We don¡¯t have to talk about this right now.¡±

    Allen nodded nervously, visibly shaken by what he had going on in his mind. I watched him reach back and grab Eloise¡¯s hand slightly like he was trying to calm her down. They were both scared of something. Something bad had happened to them over there.

    ¡°All that matters is you¡¯re here now. Everything that happened, whatever you had to do, you got away. Your safe now,¡± I assured them. ¡°We can deal with anything else later.¡±

    After a while of reunions in the front yard of the Talbot property, we all went inside. I followed everyone in, but I lingered on the porch for a moment. I looked out into the blue sky above the trees, thankful for all that I had been gifted with. I took a moment to thank God for this miracle. Then, I prayed for the one person I knew needed it. We were here all together while Sam was out there somewhere¡­ alone. I prayed for Sam to be okay.

 Chapter 36 - The Call

    I was in a grocery store, of all places. Funny enough, I was looking for scissors and a pack of razors. It almost felt like an old errand Vicky would have sent me on. Just a quick trip to the store. I had spent so much time on the road that maintaining my hair wasn¡¯t a concern. When I was living in the factory, I had basic necessities to keep my hygiene decent while I went out in public. Now I had no such need. I was a caveman living on the go. Haircuts and clean shaves weren¡¯t a priority for me. I took what I called a shower or bath pretty frequently. I had to swim or find some kind of water to clean the blood from myself after I had slaughtered a target. It wasn¡¯t what the rest of the world considered a bath, or clean, but it was all I allowed myself. I couldn¡¯t just look like a bloody psychopath walking around in broad daylight.

    The visions returned almost immediately as soon as I left Allen and Eloise that night. I left St. Louis almost as fast as I had come back in with the two werewolves in tow. It had been another four months since I had stepped foot in St. Louis. I was a force of nature; a storm that destroyed anything in its path. When the visions showed me where I was needed, I was unleashed. Chaos and destruction stayed behind me.

    Roughly ten months had passed since I saw them. Ten months¡­ almost a year. It was hard when I thought about it too long. In the few moments I¡¯d think about what it would be like to go back, I¡¯d feel a glimpse of happiness. But then I realized I¡¯d be a stranger to them. They wouldn¡¯t know me anymore. Now that my life was the monster¡¯s, I lived and breathed chaos. I was standing on a knifes edge, and either way I fell, I would end up destroying something¡­ or someone. Part of me thought I wouldn¡¯t feel normal around them either, no matter how much I wanted to be with them. I had to remember the numbness I taught myself in the first few years of this life. It was a way to just shut things out and just focus on small goals in my present. Things like walking, breathing, and in my case currently, walking out of the store with my hair trimmers quietly.

    I grabbed my razors, scissors, and a bag of candy at the register. Impulse buy I know, but I loved things that were really sweet or sour. Luckily this bag of gummy worms was both. I paid with the little bit of money I had come across in my travels. I never needed anything that often, so money wasn¡¯t a big concern for me. I paid the nice lady at the checkout, completely unaware of anything strange, and headed out the front door.

    The massive glowing sign lit up the darkened parking lot around me. ¡®Aberdeen Grocery¡¯ was the name that hung across the sign. That was the town I was in; I had seen the name many times as I passed through the lightly populated area into town. I couldn¡¯t tell you for sure what state I was in. Somewhere north of Virginia¡­ maybe.

    I was halfway through the parking lot of the grocery store when I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. It shocked me. Surely that thing should be dead by now. I hadn¡¯t charged it in two days. I laid outside a Burger King, back by the dumpsters, to charge my phone. This kind of thing became commonplace. I¡¯d wait until some business was closed so I could sneak in during the dark hours, and siphon off some of that sweet sweet juice so I could keep my phone on. Just in case I was needed¡­ I wanted to be needed by someone. I wanted to have a purpose other than being an executioner.

    For a second, I froze in the flickering light of the parking lot lamps. What if it was Carter¡­ Autumn, or Eleanor? What if they were still trying to reach me? They had my number, but their calls faded long ago.

    I was too nervous to look at the screen when I pulled it out. Would I even answer if it was one of them? What would I even say? When I turned the cell phone to where I could see the display, I was let down. It was a number I didn¡¯t have saved or recognize.

    ¡°Fucking telemarketers!¡± I huffed, screening the call and sending it straight to voicemail. ¡°How do they do that? No one even has this number¡­¡± I pushed the cell phone back into my pocket. My imaginings gone in an instant.

    I kept walking, making headway towards the railroad tracks I¡¯d follow until I met a train. About an hour later, I found a nice little place to sit while I cut my hair and shaved the stubble from my face. I had actually become quite a competent barber. I did pretty good work for it being pitch black in the middle of nowhere, with only the reflection from stagnant puddles of rainwater.

    When I was just finishing up brushing the hair off of myself, my phone rang again.

    ¡°Seriously, what is going on?¡± I spoke to myself.

    That thing stayed dead most of the time, and when it was charged it never rang anymore. I felt like I was getting blown up like when my brother used to send me stupid jokes or funny things he found on the internet. I tossed my stuff on the ground and pulled my phone out again. I looked at the number and quickly realized it was the same number calling from before. I actually accepted the call and put the phone to my ear. I was about to lose my cool on someone if they were going to try and sell me a new homeowners insurance package that bundled home and auto.

    ¡°Hello?¡± I answered. ¡°Who is this¡­ how¡¯d you get this number?¡± I bombarded the caller with questions.

    ¡°Hello¡­¡± the voice spoke hesitantly through the speaker.

    ¡°Who is this? What do you want?¡± I asked, annoyed. I was ready to tell this dumbass all about how I didn¡¯t need extended warranties or to switch providers.

    ¡°I was given this phone number¡­ and told never to call it¡­¡± he said.

    It hit me instantly. My heart thudded hard in my chest. My memories returning from that night in the woods just outside Jane¡¯s house. It had been months, but I had only ever given my number out like that in one situation¡­ to one person. He was my last-ditch effort to still keep ties on the Chasse family. His call worried me. I thought I put the fear of God in him that night, to never call unless someone was going to die. He hadn¡¯t called the number for four months. But now¡­ here he was.

    ¡°Allen?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s me. Look, I know you said never to call you, but something is happening? I think I need your help¡­¡± he sounded apologetic and unsure. I think he was already second guessing the call. Maybe it was the fear in his voice.

    ¡°Who knows you called me? Did you tell them about me?¡± I asked, adrenaline shooting my pulse to the roof. I could feel the blood rushing through my face.

    ¡°No, I promise. No one knows about you. Eloise doesn¡¯t even know I¡¯m calling,¡± Allen assured.

    ¡°What is it? I told you, only call me if its life or death¡­¡± I started pacing back and forth around my railroad barbershop.

    ¡°Look, I know what you said, but I think something is about to happen¡­ I can just feel it. I can¡¯t explain it, but my family¡¯s getting ready for a hunt, but something doesn¡¯t feel right. Eloise feels it too, it¡¯s hard to explain. Something bad is going to happen¡­ I know it!¡± He breathed heavy like he was really going through something. ¡°They won¡¯t listen to me. I keep trying to talk them out of it, but they don¡¯t understand.¡±

    I could hear the stress in his words. This was his last rope; I could tell he didn¡¯t want to call me¡­ but he was scared.

    ¡°I¡¯m not running halfway across the country for maybe¡¯s¡­¡± he actually cut me off.

    ¡°Please¡­ whoever you are, please help me. I keep telling them not to go through with it, but they won¡¯t listen. We have other family here¡­ they¡¯re pushing everything forward too fast. It¡¯s happening tomorrow night¡­ I need your help. Everyone is going to be there, and¡­ if they don¡¯t stop, I don¡¯t think any of them will make it out alive.¡±

    I didn¡¯t believe his words; they didn¡¯t make sense. But I believed his fear. I could hear the panic in his voice. From all I knew about the life he lived with the pack in France, it would take something seriously bad to have him shaking like this.

    ¡°Where are they going?¡± I asked quickly.

    ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯ll come?¡± he asked, uncertainly.

    ¡°Where?¡± I ordered, trying to maintain my own worries that started building.

    ¡°It¡¯s just outside the city. I don¡¯t know the exact address, but I can get it. I¡¯ll text it to you,¡± he offered.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming your way now! Text me everything you can find out,¡± I spoke quick and serious as I bounded into a sprint. I grabbed all my new stuff, and my candy from the ground as I ran. I felt a force pushing me faster. It was a drive I hadn¡¯t felt in a long time. I had to protect my friends.

    ¡°Allen,¡± I spoke one last thing before I hung up the phone.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he answered attentively.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone I¡¯m coming!¡±

    My body violently shifted from human to the larger monstrosity that could move much faster. My strides were so much greater in my alternate form. My clothes tore and slowly fell away from where they hung on my frame. The cloth rags were eventually ripped from my body as I passed through the wilderness in a dead sprint. I clutched the now small bag of mementos in my gruesome hand as I rushed towards St. Louis.

    It would be nighttime for a few more hours, and I could run unhinged like this until the sun came up. Then I¡¯d turn back human, get clothes, hop a train, or maybe steal a car or something. But I¡¯d make it¡­ I wouldn¡¯t let anything happen to them.

    <hr>

    ¡°Allen, I told you, I know where moving fast but we have to do something. Three people have already gone missing near the cave. We have to stop it before it hurts anyone else,¡± I tried to talk some sense into my son.

    ¡°Dad¡­ I know it sounds weird, but I¡¯m telling you, I feel something. I can¡¯t shake it¡­¡± he urged. ¡°Eloise feels it too,¡± he added.

    ¡°Look son, I know things have been different since you¡¯ve been back, but it¡¯s just going to take some more time for you to adjust. I¡¯ve spoken with Jane; she doesn¡¯t sense anything like what you¡¯re talking about.¡± I walked across the front living room to the fireplace where my son was standing. I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, ¡°Look, I know this is faster than we usually move. You know your cousins¡­ they do things a little different than us. But we have to be there to help protect them, as well as civilians that might run into this thing.¡±

    Allen nodded hesitantly; his long blonde hair tied back in a short ponytail. He had his cell phone out, starring at it with a clenched jaw. He almost looked like he¡¯d crush it in his rigid grasp.

    ¡°If this thing really is what we think it is, are you sure we can kill it?¡± he asked again.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have more than enough firepower to put it down. The bestiaries have many different accounts from the generations of Olitiau sightings. We¡¯re packing enough supplies to take down something bigger than even the largest one that was mentioned in the book. Just to be safe,¡± I assured him. He really seemed nervous about everything.

    Just then, Autumn came up from the basement, ¡°How much time until we leave?¡±

    ¡°An hour. Jane and Bran will be here in thirty minutes, we¡¯ll go through the plan one more time with everyone here, and then well head out. We should reach the cave entrance around midnight,¡± I said, turning as I finished speaking.

    Eleanor came in from the garage with Clara. They finished loading their weapons and gear into the back of the suburban.

    ¡°This should be fun,¡± Eleanor let out a quick deep breath, obviously trying to make light of the situation. ¡°I¡¯ve never killed an Olitiau before.¡±

    Clara snickered beside her as they walked into the living room with us. ¡°None of us have.¡±

    Frank stumbled out of the kitchen with a sandwich in hand, meat spilling out of the bread, ¡°Nope, not you. I got dibs on the kill shot.¡± He stuffed almost half the sandwich in his mouth, mustard squeezed out of the sloppy build and fell all over the M4 that was hung down his front.

    ¡°Geez, Frank, watch it. Your about to jam your shit up with all that mustard, and get yourself killed when your gun wont fire,¡± I warned.

    ¡°Nah,¡± Frank talked through his full mouth of food. ¡°Mustard wont jam guns. I¡¯ve got firsthand knowledge on that,¡± he laughed confidently.

    Frank had been way more relaxed, thinking himself the family comedian these last few months. Now that he and Jane were back together full force it seemed like nothing got to him anymore. It was annoying. I didn¡¯t want him to get himself killed.

    ¡°Why you look so on edge?¡± Frank asked Allen.

    I looked back to my son, who was still staring at his phone.

    ¡°If you want Eloise to stay back before we get moving, I¡¯d tell her now,¡± I offered him. ¡°If you think you need to stay with her, Allen, we have more than enough people to kill this thing¡­¡± I barely got out before Allen snapped out of his trance.

    ¡°No!¡± he barked. ¡°I can¡¯t let you go by yourselves. I have to be there¡­¡±

    ¡°Allen,¡± Eleanor walked over to our son, pulling him in for a light hug. ¡°What¡¯s got into you?¡±

    Autumn chimed in, ¡°Allen, seriously, I know things are different now but think about it. This isn¡¯t a humanoid creature; it wasn¡¯t ever human before. This is just a really big animal. It¡¯s not going to be able to outthink us. We¡¯ve got the edge in this fight¡­ don¡¯t worry so much,¡± she tried to lay it all out for Allen. She knew, as did the rest of us, that things had been hard for Allen to adjust back to since returning with his curse. ¡°Plus, you¡¯ve got the best of both worlds. We were both raise and trained together. You¡¯re a hunter¡­ and you have the power of a werewolf. This thing doesn¡¯t stand a chance.¡± She walked up behind him and slapped his back, a little too hard. She was picking up old habits of her uncle, Frank.

    Allen, thankfully calmed a little, ¡°Thanks, Auti.¡±

    Autumn gave her brother a hug, knowing he was still going through hard times with his transformations every month.

    ¡°Come on, Eloise is still trying to load all the extra magazines,¡± Autumn laughed. ¡°She insisted on doing it herself.¡±

    Allen laughed along with his sister, returning down into the basement to Eloise and our cousins.

    In just a few more minutes, Jane and Bran had arrived. Frank let them in, and then we all joined up in the basement.

    Introductions were in order for Bran. He had never met our cousins, nor they him. They knew he was with the Talbot pack, but Bran wasn¡¯t really family. He was a very old friend that had been around since he was a boy, becoming cursed in a separate manor than the Talbots. Nonetheless, they were welcoming enough for the time being.

    My cousins, Zeke, Arthur, and Kayla. Kayla was Zeke¡¯s daughter, just as trained and deadly as Autumn. They were the same age, growing up around each other for many years of their young lives, before our cousins moved off from St. Louis years back.

    Zeke and Arthur¡¯s side of the family were different than our own. We watched and planned far more than our familial counterparts. Zeke was the son of my father¡¯s brother. They were much more aggressive than us. Frank, Clara, and I were taught differently by our father. Zeke and Arthur¡¯s father taught them to be the way they were. This is one of the main reasons they had moved off. Zeke and Arthur were the only two left, along with Kayla. Their hunting style was more attack than planning or anything else, but they had gotten better over the years. Losing a vast majority of their side of the family made them wake up and hunt smarter.

    They arrived in town after Allen returned to us. They knew something had also happened to El, so when Allen returned, they had to come see us. They¡¯d been staying on the guest side of the house for a few weeks now. However, we hadn¡¯t told them everything yet. Eleanor¡¯s situation was ¡­ fragile. It was hard to just explain away since we still didn¡¯t have the answers to what exactly happened. But it was nice to have them with us, even if they were pushing this hunt forward a little faster than I¡¯d like. But I had to admit, with so many of us on a hunt, I was pushing things faster too. No one really seemed worried that we were moving a little faster on something than we usually would. Except for Allen and Eloise of course. I don¡¯t know what that was about.

    We all talked about the plan down in the basement. We had maps that Frank¡¯s buddy down at city hall got us. They were old geological survey maps of Cliff Cave. This cave was a sprawling system beneath a southern part of St. Louis. We used these maps to plan our attack and go over positions and tactics. All of my family, except for Allen, would be boots on the ground in our typical formation. The only difference was that we¡¯d have no close-range fighters. Frank, Clara, and Arthur would stay back with the rest of us. Jane, Bran, Eloise, and Allen would be our runners. They were fast enough to go out on foot and light the fires at the other known entrances, and then make it back to the rest of us. We were going to smoke this thing out and push it to meet us all on our chosen fighting ground.

    Wayland and I went out to the barred off cave entrance the day before to get a game plan. Wayland came up with the plan himself, strategically thinking of the best way to come out on top in any fight we were in. He wasn¡¯t raised in this like the rest of us. He joined up when he met my sister, but sometimes I swear¡­ Wayland was made for this life.

    An Olitiau was a giant bat-like creature that dwelled in caves all over the world at one time. Our family had never run into one in our generation, but older Chasse¡¯s had in the past. We had more than enough on it within our bestiaries. Silver was out, but fire was in. We always used silver, so not bringing it as the main weapon to have as our prey¡¯s weakness was very different from how we usually worked. We had incendiary rounds with us, not many, but a few clips full that a couple of us could put into that thing once we found it within the cave. Some accounts had this thing with a wingspan around ten to twelve feet and teeth around two to four inches long. This thing was a beast¡­ literally. A big difference from the things we usually faced. Part of me was excited to fight something new. There was this feeling of adventure and a thrill that came with this hunt.

    Three people had gone missing over the last few weeks. All of them vanished within a hundred-yard radius from various entrances to a cave system. A fourth was attacked by something one night while he was doing some ¡°recreational activities¡± and said it was a flying demon. Luckily the young man escaped and called police, but no one believed him. He was high on drugs when he gave his statement, but we took it seriously. He said as soon as he broke the tree line it retreated into the cave, like it knew not to be seen. Most of the police force laughed him out of the building, all except for one officer; Detective Ames, our police informant that kept us in the loop on strange things that society could not explain.

    It took talking with Martin and exploring the area during daylight hours to come to our conclusion. We were certain it was an Olitiau. Evidence around the area pointed right to it; high tree branches all around the cave system were snapped from something heavy, droppings in certain areas of the local forest, and animal carcasses half eaten around the woods. These were all signs the bestiary warned about.

    Once we spoke at length about the plan, we all piled in our vehicles and headed out. We only had about a half-hour drive to Cliff Cave down south of the city. That¡¯s where this thing had roosted. Cliff Cave stretched underground for quite a way. Some of the tunnels were very small and we didn¡¯t think we¡¯d need to pay attention to those. If this thing was as big as we thought it was, it would have nowhere to go except straight for us.

    Once on location and our gear equipped, the plan was in motion.

    ¡°You guys take off. Light your fires, and then haul ass back here. We¡¯ll need everyone just in case we have to leave quickly. The fires might draw outside attention. We need to kill this thing quick, burn it, and get the hell out of here,¡± I spoke to everyone. It was a small army out in those woods near an entrance close to the Mississippi River.

    I looked around to everyone, knowing we¡¯d all be okay. I was sure that this plan would work, and Allen would have worried for nothing. Allen, Eloise, Jane, and Bran all took off in their own directions as they made their way to light their fires. Arthur, Zeke, Kayla, Frank, Clara, Wayland, Eleanor and Autumn all stood with me down in the mouth of the cave. We had the numbers.

    A stench was wafting out from the depths. Rotting flesh was the only thing I could compare it to; most likely from the poor hikers that walked the trails too late in the evening. I imagined how many bones might lie on the cave floor beneath that thing, wherever it called home in the blackness of those rocky caverns. How many people hadn¡¯t been reported missing yet?

    We set up in the cave entrance, spreading out spotlights and torches to give us ample visibility in the darkness of the night. Once everything was in place, we all spread ourselves out to have multiple lines of fire over whatever came running to escape the suffocating smoke. Within minutes, all the wolves checked in. The fires were lit, and now it was just a waiting game.

    Everyone was back as a single unit, strategically placed to light this fucker up with everything we had. As we waited, tucked behind rocks and debris that littered the cave mouth, I looked to Allen. He looked nervous, still obviously feeling something within himself. I watched him pull out his phone twice and check something, like he was waiting on someone to call.

    ¡°Allen,¡± I whispered, knowing his enhanced ears could hear me.

    He looked up quickly, connecting eyes with me.

    ¡°Focus,¡± I pointed towards the cave.

    Allen thrust his phone back into his pocket quickly, regaining his aim on the dark hole in front of us.

    Slowly, a rattling of small stones sounded in area inside the cave. Movement was vibrating the walls of the cavern. Something was moving, stumbling, and scattering loose and breaking rock from the cave walls.

    ¡°Here it comes,¡± Zeke said, confidently over our earpieces.

    I high pitched screech came from the dark tunnel, accompanied by heavy footsteps and scratching that clawed against the stone walls of the dark.

    ¡°It¡¯s here,¡± Jane said only seconds before it appeared in the beams of the spotlights.

    It had black spikes coming out of its spine. Its body was brown and leathery, with massive wings. The blood flowing through its veins gave the tight transparent wings a dark crimson hue. It screeched again once it came into the blinding spotlights. It didn¡¯t like the light, stumbling back towards the way it had come. The earsplitting noise blared through our earpieces, stunning us. I didn¡¯t expect that.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Team 1!¡± I yelled though the demon¡¯s shrill cries.

    Zeke, Arthur, Clara, and Wayland pumped it full of normal lead bullets. Their silenced M4¡¯s chirping in a semi-automatic pattern, echoing down the tunnels within the caves. The hot lead shredded the creature, ripping its wings to pieces like they were made of toilet paper.

    The creature roared a louder, deeper cry. This was different than its first scream. This was from pain. It fell back on its spines, but only momentarily. It flipped back over and thrust upwards with its long upper arms that also held out the edge of its wings. It looked like it tried to flap and get airborne, but it fell back to the stone below.

    ¡°Team 2!¡± I yelled next after the first team had finished their burst of fire.

    Autumn, Eleanor, and I unleashed on the grounded devil. Our rounds traced through the air, burning with every bullet that penetrated this things skin. The incendiary rounds glowing red hot within the beast''s body, cooking him from the inside.

    It lurched forward at us, trying to take one last swing before its fiery death. It didn¡¯t get close, falling short of us by ten feet or so. A powerful thud resounded as it planted into the rocks.

    Me and the rest of Team 2 finished pumping the clips of incendiary rounds into it before stopping. Once the silenced chirps of gunfire ended, we all stood in silence as the creature melted from within.

    ¡°Well, that was,¡± the sound of Frank¡¯s massive handgun choked my words.

    Frank shot one silver round right into the thing¡¯s skull, ¡°Kill shot!¡±

    ¡°Frank, stop fucking around,¡± Zeke yelled at my brother. ¡°Your gun isn¡¯t even silenced, and you just wasted good silver. You¡¯re going to draw too much attention.¡±

    One of the few times I actually agreed with my cousin.

    I just shook my head to my older brother, ¡°Go get the gas.¡±

    ¡°Geez I was just kidding,¡± Frank huffed as he walked back to the cars.

    Allen and Eloise came up to stand beside me.

    ¡°See, Allen. Nothing to worry about. It¡¯s over,¡± I assured him again. He still looked thrown.

    Allen shook his head, ¡°I still feel something¡­ I can¡¯t explain it.¡± He looked to Eloise.

    Eloise only nodded. She still felt it too.

    Frank and Bran stood in the mouth of the cave, dousing the monster in gasoline while our cousins collected all of the spotlights and torches from the cave entrance. All we had to do was light the trail of gas and get out of dodge.

    ¡°Bran,¡± Frank called out to his new buddy as he walked over to Jane, ¡°you want to do the honors?¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah,¡± Bran said excitedly. Bran had helped us out a few times now, and he seemed to like hunting down other monsters with us. I think he felt a different kind of comradery with us that he didn¡¯t in the pack.

    ¡°Frank,¡± I heard Jane say over the radio.

    ¡°What¡¯s up,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong¡­¡± she said.

    ¡°What?¡± Allen and Eloise simultaneously barked to her.

    I felt a chill across my skin. Jane already sprinted towards us.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You feel it now, too?¡± Allen asked.

    ¡°Its¡­¡± she closed her eyes, focusing on something. ¡°It¡¯s not what you described. This is something else.¡± Jane looked around feverishly in every direction in the dark woods. She sniffed a couple quick samples of the ambient humid air in the trees.

    I heard something flapping above me that almost made me jump out of my skin. I looked up sharply, expecting to see the bat-like creature in the air above me. Thankfully, it was just a black bird.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Arthur spoke slowly, one of the few times of the day.

    Everyone looked over to him, and he was staring straight up. We all mirrored his pose, looking above our area. Black birds, crows maybe, were littered throughout the branches above us. They were just sitting there¡­ watching. It was a massive hoard of them, just flapping around between branches, and watching us down below.

    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± Zeke said out loud.

    ¡°Dad¡­ this is weird,¡± Kayla said.

    ¡°Yeah, I can agree with that,¡± Autumn seconded.

    ¡°Something is definitely wrong, Carter,¡± Jane spoke directly to me. ¡°There is something here¡­¡±

    Bran, who was still focused on his task with the gasoline was out of the loop. He was still in the mouth of the cave, just finished with covering the beast¡¯s carcass with accelerant. He formed a nice flammable trail a few yards away from the body where he stood with his lighter. The flame of his lighter was the only thing that alerted me to his presence as he worked in the dark.

    ¡°Bran!¡± Jane yelled across the distance to her second in command.

    It was too late; he lit the trail of gas, and it lit up the Olitiau¡¯s body. That¡¯s when I saw it. The larger fire lit up the cave again, and we were all witness to what Jane saw with her beastly eyes.

    The fire roared upwards, lighting the cave to show a form behind Bran. Instantly, a screeching roar tore through the woods around us, stunning Bran at point blank range. Behind Bran, stood another Olitiau. Only, it was massive. No one saw it, no one heard it¡­ It got the jump on us. The one we killed wasn¡¯t the only one, nor was it the threat. The first was a baby¡­ this was the mother.

    It all happened so fast, no one could react. Bran was reeling from his sensitivity to the powerful calls of the Olitiau. He was knocked to the ground, unable to take his hands off his ears.

    ¡°Bran! Get out of there!¡± Frank yelled as he lunged forward to get to him.

    Everyone else was reaching for weapons again, trying to just do something. It was no use.

    The behemoth reached down in a flash, crushing its massive claws into Bran¡¯s chest, lifting him high into the air. Its claws were almost a foot long, and they stabbed straight through Bran¡¯s chest¡­ all the way through.

    Bran screamed as he hung in the air within the beast¡¯s grasp.

    ¡°Bran!¡± Jane yelped in a twisted groan.

    The fire was spreading. The creature knocked over one of the cans of gas, spilling all across the hard rocky surface of the cave mouth. Flames lapped it up, spreading out all across the entrance, revealing more of the darkened area, and more of this monstrous creature. Bran was cut off from our reach. Frank was the closest, but the flames spread too quickly; they grew too tall. Frank shielded his arms in front of his face as he tried to get to and save his friend.

    ¡°Bran!¡± Frank yelled. ¡°Bran, just hang on.¡±

    ¡°PLEASE! HELP ME!¡± Bran¡¯s cries were shrill and earsplitting. He was struggling for his life.

    None of us could do anything. We couldn¡¯t even shoot at the beast for fear of killing Bran ourselves. That¡¯s when I realized¡­ we weren¡¯t going to save him, and someone needed to show him the only mercy we could.

    The Olitiau roared again as it held Bran, almost like it was toying with us, trying to trick us into getting closer. Was it that smart? How could it be¡­ it was just a beast, wasn¡¯t it?

    Blood was pouring out of Bran¡¯s ears now from the intensity of the pitch right in his face. His torso was shredded¡­ he started to slow and wasn¡¯t moving as much in this things grip. He was suffering until the very end. He¡¯d suffer as that thing ate him¡­

    I raised my rifle, put a bead right on Bran¡¯s forehead, then I hesitated. What if there was another way¡­ what if¡­

    ¡°PLEASE¡­Please¡­¡± Bran was begging now. ¡°Help me¡­¡± His voice defeated.

    I knew what Bran was asking for.

    I raised my sights back up, put them on his forehead and clenched my teeth, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I pulled the trigger. The silenced pop was nothing compared to the noise and chaos of the raging fire and the screeching roars, but it was powerful enough to stop everything for a second. Even the creature huffed and puffed in a different manner than it had before. It knew its prey was dead.

    ¡°Bran, no!¡± Jane cried as she stumbled forward to her close friend. But he was gone.

    Frank pulled her back away from the flames, ¡°No Jane, we have to go!¡±

    ¡°Everyone¡­ shoot that fucking thing!¡± I ordered. We had more than enough incendiary rounds. We planned on the unexpected. Now this thing would die.

    We were all armed again, and in one instant we were about to shoot flaming hot lead into this bat and send it straight back to hell, where it belonged.

    Clicks and snaps sounded off all around us. The weapons in our hands misfired¡­ every single one of them. Ten of us were aiming down on that thing, and all ten guns locked up, jammed, or misfired.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Zeke yelped, flipping his rifle back and forth trying to clear the jam. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±

    We all fumbled around with our weapons quickly, trying to regain our firepower. The slide on my M4 was solid, almost welded shut.

    The beast stepped loudly through the flames, making its way towards us. It cast Bran¡¯s lifeless body down into the raging inferno beneath it¡¯s feat.

    ¡°Back to the cars!¡± I yelled. ¡°NOW!¡±

    Everyone was running. No one understood what had happened. Was this what Allen and Eloise had sensed? Stop thinking Carter¡­ just run.

    I looked to everyone as we ran over the hill to the cars on the other side. I made sure that no one was left behind. I could see the outline of the massive beast still standing near the entrance of the cave, just outside of the flames. Maybe it stopped. I focused my vision, trying to make out what it was doing. It looked like it was kneeling down to a¡­ to a man. There was someone down there with that fucking thing. The beast was letting out quieter, more bearable screeches down by the cave. The person was facing away from me, all I could see was their back in the twisting light of the licking flames. But then, they turned around and looked right at me. Glowing green eyes stared at me through the darkness of the woods. It was looking right at me as I stared down from the top of the hill. The Olitiau stood back up from its knelt position, like it was listening to whoever that was down there. The green eyes looked back to the towering bat, and pointed up the hill, through the trees right at me. The beast screeched louder, thudding steps forward as it obeyed. We had to keep running.

    We ran so fast down the other side of the hill that a few of us almost ate it on the way down. Thank the Lord we didn¡¯t. We were there. We all made it to the cars. They were just were we parked them. Yet, before we could touch them, flames erupted in-between us and our escape. The fire literally sprung up from the ground, creating a barrier of heat between the vehicles.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Zeke yelled back to everyone as he was the closest to become a pile of cinders. He threw his arms out to catch his daughter from barreling into the wall of flames after picking up too much speed from coming down the hill.

    Then there was a voice in the woods. It was laughing¡­ It sounded like it was coming from every direction out in those woods. It was shrill and maniacal, and it was directed at us. ¡°Die¡­ die¡­¡± It repeated this as we looked around in panic. It almost whispered the words to us.

    ¡°Dad¡­ what do we do?¡± Autumn asked quickly from behind me as I looked back up the hill.

    ¡°This is it!¡± Allen shuttered from beside Eloise.

    ¡°I feel it too,¡± Eloise agreed. Allen grabbed her tightly and kissed her right in front of the flames that blocked our vehicles.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I should have called sooner. I thought he¡¯d make it¡­¡± Allen apologized feverishly to Eloise.

    ¡°What¡­¡± Eloise was confused.

    The laughter and whispers continued. I didn¡¯t need to see them, because I knew it was the voice of the green eye thing on the other side of the hill. They had powers¡­ like the Wicklows; like Mercy, more accurately. It was another gypsy, witch¡­ or something else. Something worse.

    ¡°Oh shit, here it comes!¡± Clara turned back looking up the hill we had just run down. ¡°We need to keep running¡­ get out he woods. It won¡¯t follow!¡±

    The winged beast smashed between trees as it fought its way to us, too big to fit easily between the multitude of trunks so tightly grown together. The fires behind it spreading from the mouth of the cave. The flames were coming with the creature; coming to consume us alongside the beast.

    Warbling snarls and screeches broke the plain of the hilltop as the things head came into view. It was lumbering up the last few yards to the top of the hill. It had us here¡­ we were done unless we kept running. If we kept running, we would have more time, but if we abandoned our cars here then we¡¯d be committed to staying on foot. If it didn¡¯t stop at the tree line and it followed us beyond it, we¡¯d be fucked. It could get airborne once out of the trees and wipe us all out in seconds.

    Then, the laugh started to fade, and was replaced by another sound that seemed to be everywhere in the surrounding forest. A hoard of intermittent cawing repeated all around us from the tree branches. I looked around, up, across, and in every direction. I saw the crows from before. Only now there were even more. They watched on¡­ like they were waiting for something.

    I heard a whisper in the shadows of the woods. It was the laughing voice of the glowing green eyes from over the hill, only he wasn¡¯t laughing anymore, ¡°No!¡± The voice was angry, yet passive. ¡°No¡­ no¡­¡± It quickly faded away, and I never heard it again.

    Just then, the Olitiau stumbled forward, falling over on the hilltop. It fell completely down to the ground, vibrating a thud all throughout the area. Its upper wing arms reached out to lift its massive frame. It looked to us at the bottom of the hill, still trapped by flames. It roared at us again, but was interrupted.

    Suddenly, it was yanked backwards violently. Vicious grunts and snarls lashed out over the hill with every yank of the Olitiau¡¯s body. It looked like something had ahold of its leg, pulling it back down the hill. A painful cry barked and squealed from its fanged face as it clawed against the hill, trying to get away from whatever had ahold of it. Another noise roared out from the other side of the hill. This was different. I felt my whole body shake from the reverberation of the deep growl. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and an itching tingle spread across my skin as the noise tore through the chaos.

    I could feel the heat on my back fading as the demonic bat fought against something else. I turned to see the flames that separated us from the car were just barely at ground level. Whatever had been happening was over, the focus shifting.

    I shot my eyes around to everyone behind me. I connected eyes with Eleanor, Frank, and Zeke.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Zeke choked out through the chaos.

    ¡°GET IN!¡± I screamed at everyone.

    Once everyone realized the barrier of flames was gone, we all piled inside every vehicle we¡¯d brought to Cliff Cave. I put my seatbelt on as fast as possible, only out of habit, and started the car. That¡¯s when I noticed Allen and Eloise still outside, watching. They both looked frozen in fear, even though the Olitiau was not coming for us anymore, something had gripped them tightly. The fire was still creeping up from the cave mouth, glowing over the edge of the hill. The fire was growing louder with each passing minute, tearing the forest apart.

    ¡°Allen! Eloise, get in the truck!¡± Jane yelled from Frank¡¯s truck.

    Allen and Eloise were both stepping backwards now, still eyeing the hilltop where the surges of guttural rips and snarls were still coming from. I could still hear them from inside our SUV.

    They got in with Frank and Jane. Everyone was safe. Everyone¡­ except Bran.

    ¡°Dad!¡± Autumn yelled from the backseat as I pulled out quickly. ¡°Look!¡±

    ¡°Oh my¡­¡± Eleanor breathed heavily as she too looked out the window to the hilltop. ¡°What¡¯s happening¡­¡± She had her hand on her chest, barely able to speak through whatever was going on.

    I looked up and the fires had reached the top of the hill, raging and burning the trees all throughout the Cliff Cave forest. The hoard of black birds shot skywards in a violent tornado of feathers to escape the flames and chaos that was taking over the area. The trees were only skeletons of what they once were, skinny trunks engulfed in flames. But, within the flames at the top¡­ we all saw something. It only looked like a shadow within the fire, but I saw it moving. It was the outline of¡­ something. Something else was there in the inferno. I didn¡¯t think it was the same green-eyed thing from before, but I wasn¡¯t sure. It moved slowly through the flames, watching our every move as we raced away from the location.

    <hr>

    It was silent in the house, except for the sound of Jane shedding tears. Bran¡¯s death had torn her up. It hit all of us, but none harder than Jane. He was her second in command for years. They had been friends for even longer. He was an outsider looking for help all those years ago, and Jane¡¯s father took him in. Jane had just lost family¡­

    Frank stayed right beside her, letting her cry all over him. He didn¡¯t say anything, he just stayed there with her.

    Arthur and Zeke came back to the living room after getting cleaned up on the guest side of the house.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Zeke asked me, sitting down on the couch across from me.

    I shook my head, trying to speak quietly so Jane could still mourn her friend, ¡°I don¡¯t know. That thing I saw¡­ with the green eyes, it had powers. That¡¯s the only explanation for what all happened out there. It looked like it was controlling the Olitiau somehow.¡±

    ¡°If it was controlling that thing, then why did it kill the bat?¡± Wayland struggled to understand.

    We all thought hard, trying to make sense of what happened. Eleanor sat right beside me, her hand still placed over her upper chest. She was feeling something; maybe it was how closely we got away. We were only seconds from death. I think it brought up old memories¡­ from before.

    I looked to Allen and Eloise, who were sitting separately from the rest of us. Allen looked like he was talking quietly to her, trying to explain something. She was shaking her head in disbelief. I called out to him.

    ¡°Allen,¡± I said to him. He looked over to me and I motioned to them. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we didn¡¯t listen to you, son. I should have listened to you.¡±

    Allen shook his head, ¡°It¡¯s okay Dad. I didn¡¯t know what was going to happen.¡± Allen looked back to Eloise. ¡°I think I know what I was feeling¡­ both of us.¡±

    ¡°What was it?¡± Autumn asked from beside the couch.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t the bat, but the voice out there. It brought out something in me, and Eloise. I don¡¯t know why, or who that was, but for some reason we both felt something that reminded us of the pack, from France. Its¡­ hard to explain,¡± he admitted.

    ¡°What about those birds?¡± Arthur asked the group. ¡°What was that about? And what about what was on the other side, there at the end? It was like something was coming after the bat. It was killing it.¡±

    ¡°I assumed it was that green eyed devil¡­ whatever it was¡­¡± Wayland made his thought known.

    Kayla nodded with a blank stare, ¡°What could do that? That monster was huge, but whatever was over there manhandled that thing. I could hear its screams dying out, and I could hear the other thing¡­ like grunting and roaring as it killed it¡­ you could hear its flesh being¡­ ripped open. I heard bones breaking¡­¡± she was completely shaken.

    I kept shaking my head, unsure of what to make of it. I needed Bartley. I called him as soon as we got home. I needed his expertise on what had happened. Maybe he could help us understand what that green-eyed thing was, and how it controlled the flames, and our weapons; then killed the bat¡­ it didn¡¯t make sense to me.

    Eleanor was staring as blankly as Kayla, lost in some thought about it all. Her hand was still lightly on her chest.  I rubbed the back of her neck, trying to sooth her a little.

    A light chirp from a cell phone sounded out in the mostly quiet living room. It was so distinct that it made everyone look up.

    Allen had that cell phone out again, but Eloise was pushing it down, trying to make him put it away. She was shaking her head in fear, uncertain about something.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± she asked fanatically. ¡°You didn¡¯t¡­¡± she looked taken aback.

    The look on both their faces told a strange story. Something had them shaking in fear. They both looked mortified as they gazed upon the bright screen, and the words it displayed. They both looked like they were almost right back in those woods near the mouth of the cave.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Jane asked them both as we all watched the tension build between my son and his companion.

    Allen and Eloise both calmed quickly, trying to brush it off like it wasn¡¯t anything.

    ¡°Nothing, just a misunderstanding¡­¡± Allen tried, but didn¡¯t convince anyone.

    Eloise stared at the floor, struggling to regain her composure. She was very quiet most of the time. She had been that way since she arrived here with Allen. But I could tell, ever since she got here, that there was something they were hiding. Allen was better at keeping the clues of their secrecy under wraps, but it was present on them now. They couldn¡¯t deny it any longer.

    Jane could sense something off about them, more so than usual. She could smell their fear, and she wanted to know why. I think we all did, especially why in this moment, after everything that just happened. Jane shot up out of her seat beside Frank and powered over to them. ¡°What is it?¡± she ordered, looking down at Allen¡¯s phone.

    Obviously, whatever it was had them both equally as worried and anxious as the situation we had just gotten out of. But what could be so bad?

    ¡°Nothing, Jane¡­¡± Allen barely got out.

    Janes eyes turned yellowish orange, and a strange sound came out in her voice with every word, ¡°Tell me what it is! Right now!¡±

    Something was happening between the three werewolves. At Jane¡¯s words, Allen and Eloise cringed backward in the living room, physically affected by the words she spoke to them. Jane wasn¡¯t playing. After what happened to Bran, she wanted to know everything about what had happened out there.

    Allen struggled to remain silent, while Eloise cracked almost instantly to whatever supernatural coercion Jane was performing on them.

    ¡°We¡¯re not supposed to talk about it¡­¡± she tried to stop talking.

    ¡°What? Talk about what?¡± her voice still as deep and warped as before. Jane continued, ¡°You will tell me!¡±

    ¡°I called someone!¡± Allen admitted after physically trying to keep his mouth shut. Whatever Jane was doing worked quickly, and as soon as Allen said the words, his will was broken.

    ¡°Who did you call?¡± Jane asked in a more natural voice. Her eyes returned to look human again.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Allen said.

    I thought Jane was about to urge him in that strange manner again, but she believed him. ¡°Who texted you?¡±

    Eloise spoke next, I think she was trying to take some of the blame also. ¡°We never knew his name.¡± She shuttered slightly, ¡°It was the one who killed our pack. He told us never to talk about what happened or tell anyone about him.¡±

    Allen and Eloise didn¡¯t talk much about what ultimately happened over there with their pack. They spoke only briefly about it when they first got here, obviously affected by everything they went through, so we didn¡¯t push them. It seemed to us that whatever happened was just the thing they needed to escape that life. We tried to give them space, hoping they¡¯d let us in eventually and tell us what really happened over there. I had a theory that they killed them all together. Maybe while the others slept or something. They were both keeping a secret about it together, and they never let anyone in; not when it came to this.

    Everyone realized this was what we had been waiting for from Allen and Eloise for a long time. It was the truth of what really happened that night of the full moon. But how was it tied to what happened here to us at the cave.

    ¡°The thing I¡¯ve been feeling,¡± Allen looked to Eloise. ¡°The thing we¡¯ve both been feeling. We can¡¯t explain it, but it feels like what I remember about being cursed. We¡¯ve been talking the last couple days and we just couldn¡¯t shake the feeling. It was so familiar, like I was back there¡­ in that ritual.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Eloise agreed feverishly. ¡°Whatever else was there¡­ that voice¡­ the laughing¡­¡± she struggled at the memory.

    ¡°When I felt that, I knew that something bad was going to happen. No one would listen to me. I kept trying to talk you all out of it.¡± Allen looked to Jane, ¡°Even you, Jane. But nobody listened. I didn¡¯t know what else to do. So I¡­¡± Allen looked back down to his phone. ¡°I called someone.¡±

    ¡°He was the one that killed the pack. He got us out that night,¡± Eloise stared emptily at the wall as she remembered things about that night.

    ¡°So how did you escape, Allen? Why did it let you both get away and kill everyone else?¡± Wayland asked, still trying to figure out the details.

    Eloise and Allen looked to each other cautiously. Eloise nodded her head slightly in agreement. They truly looked scared of something.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t do anything,¡± Allen answered, still unsure if he was making the right choice in telling us all this secret.

    ¡°How did you get away, sweetie?¡± Eleanor asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Allen.¡± I tried to assure him that it would be okay, breaking my silence. Honestly, I was trying not to talk. I felt like a piece of shit father. I should have listened to my son. I should have been more sensitive to the things going on around me than just pushing forward to the hunt because Zeke wanted to.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what or who he was. He never told us his name¡­ but he knew things,¡± Allen spoke slowly.

    ¡°What happened,¡± Autumn asked him to explain.

    ¡°I was drinking at this bar one night¡­ before the full moon, to prepare for the transformation. We always did that, me and a few others. I was sitting by myself when this guy just walked up and sat at my table. Just out of nowhere. He was there before we were, like he knew I¡¯d show up or something. He started talking to me, asking me what I would do if I could get away from the pack,¡± Allen explained. ¡°He told me he could get me out of there. That I could come home. I was scared. I just thought it was some hunter that found the pack and thought he could kill them. But our pack was strong, and I thought he¡¯d get me in trouble with the alpha, Darry.¡±

    ¡°Why did you think he was a hunter?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He showed me his silver blade,¡± Allen responded. ¡°He told me to just sit back, and he¡¯d do the rest. The next night, he showed up to where we had set up our camp. He came down in that valley¡­ alone. I don¡¯t know how he tracked us; we were very careful. He gave everyone a chance to leave peacefully before he started, if they wanted to. Eloise and I chained ourselves up to some trees before the transformation started to take hold, but we were the only ones. Then¡­ he killed them all.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Jane asked eagerly. ¡°He killed your whole pack¡­ on a full moon?¡± She still couldn¡¯t believe it.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allen told Jane. ¡°I¡¯m not sure exactly what he did after we started to turn, but before we chained ourselves up, he killed a woman in our pack with his blade. He threw it so fast that I couldn¡¯t even see it before it killed her. He killed a werewolf with a knife, without even moving from his place.¡±

    ¡°Everything else was a blur, as Allen and I had already begun the change, but there was a big fight. I remember seeing all of the werewolves, fully transformed, swarming something. But, when we awoke the next morning, they were all dead, and the man was still alive. He was wearing different clothes, but it was him,¡± Eloise retold the flashes of images as she recalled them.

    ¡°That¡¯s more than I remember,¡± Allen said. ¡°Eloise has been cursed longer than me, so she keeps more of her mind than I do when we transform. I don¡¯t have as much control as her, yet.¡±

    ¡°Why did he come to you?¡± Clara asked.

    ¡°It was like he knew me. He told me that you all would want me back even if I was a werewolf,¡± Allen said. ¡°Looks like he was right. He had a ride on a plane already arranged for us. We were stowaways, but it got us here. We left immediately to make it to this plane that was leaving France the next night, and heading straight to Norfolk, Virginia. Once we were back in the country, we hopped on and off of trains, riding all the way back to St. Louis. Then he walked us all the way to your house,¡± Allen told Jane. ¡°He was right there with us, in the trees. He told me to trust you. He said that you were all tied in together more now than you ever were.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s when he gave us a number. He told us never to call it for anything other than life or death situations. That¡¯s when he told us not to ever mention him. That¡¯s why we¡¯ve kept it a secret all this time. He was¡­ He was very convincing that it would not be good to oppose him,¡± Eloise nervously explained.

    ¡°He knew us?¡± Eleanor asked, getting up quickly from the couch.

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember him from anything before you were turned? Maybe you¡¯d seen him with the family somewhere? Another hunter we¡¯d worked with in the past, maybe?¡± Clara tried to give him ideas.

    We were all trying to make heads or tails of their story, but it was not what any of us expected. Who was it, how did they know who we all were? It was a hunter, obviously since he had the silver blade. Yet, Allen said he took on his whole pack and killed them all by himself. No hunter could have done that alone. It would have had to be something else, another creature. Still, no supernatural creature can hold a silver blade, let alone take on a whole pack of fully transformed werewolves on the night of the full moon¡­

    ¡°What did he look like?¡± I barked to Allen, taking everyone by surprise.

    Eleanor looked to me as I stood beside her now, realizing I was connecting similar dots to her.

    ¡°Um¡­ he was big, real muscular underneath his clothes. He wore a hood a lot of the time, so we didn¡¯t see his face a lot.¡±

    ¡°Dad¡­ you don¡¯t think¡­¡± Autumn started to understand.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ but maybe.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Allen asked nervously. He gritted his teeth as the truth unfolded before us all.

    I reached out to Allen, pulling my own phone from my pocket, ¡°What was the number?¡±

    Allen handed me his phone and showed me his text messages. I put my phone up beside his and saw the numbers. They matched.

    I looked around to all of my family that circled Allen and Eloise and nodded. Everyone except Zeke, Arthur, and Kayla were all in the same thought process. We were all nodding to each other in agreement. It was him. But¡­ how did he do it? How did he know Allen was alive? How did he find him? Nothing made sense. It had been so long without a word from him after everything that happened. Almost a full year.

    ¡°A lot happened while you were gone. We haven¡¯t really told you this yet, but I guess we have a secret of our own we need to share with you.¡± I looked to my cousins. ¡°With all of you. There is a lot more to the story than we originally told you about what happened with Eleanor¡­ and with someone we met.¡±

    They all looked wary, and a little uneasy about the fact that we hadn¡¯t been fully honest with them about something that seemed important enough for us to act the way we were.

    ¡°Now, let us tell you a story,¡± Eleanor began.

    Allen and Eloise took a seat, as did our cousins, and we started to tell them the story of every encounter we had with our lost friend, Sam.

 Chapter 37 - Reaching Out

    I saw everything that happened at the cave mouth, but I was just too late to help Bran. It was strange finding his body there charred by the flames. I knew it was him, but he was almost unrecognizable. I put him aside for a few moments while I took care of things at the cave. I took some time and I finished dismembering that fucking bat. That thing was huge. I¡¯d never seen anything like that in person¡­ ever. I have to say that thing was weirder than me. How had it gotten inside such a populated area near St. Louis without being seen?

    My memory was a little fuzzy, but I think I might have seen a hand drawing of something like that creature, or something similar, in one of Carter¡¯s bestiaries. I made sure to rip it up into small enough pieces and shove it back down a small dark section of the cave and set it on fire. It burned quickly, almost like it was flammable itself. Once I was done, there wasn¡¯t a remnant left of the baby or the hulking mama-bat.

    I kept working during the dark hours of the night, to clean up the clues of the supernatural world. I had to, now that I knew not to make waves like I did in the beginning. I wouldn¡¯t leave a trace of anything supernatural there. I finished cleaning the blood off in the river before taking Bran¡¯s body to his home. I knew they¡¯d want to bury him. I didn¡¯t linger in Jane¡¯s territory long, only enough time to dig a small grave to keep the animals from getting what was left of him. It was shallow enough that the other werewolves would smell him. They¡¯d know it was Bran, and they¡¯d come for him.

    The fire had grown to massive proportions. I could smell the smoke from across town in the early morning hours after I left Bran and made my way to the Martin¡¯s old safehouse. Emergency vehicles were making their way to Cliff Cave to deal with the spreading fire.

    Allen¡¯s call was right. If I hadn¡¯t come, they wouldn¡¯t have made it. Something had gone wrong, but I was unsure what it was. They were on the backfoot, running from the bat as it lumbered after them. I did feel something in those woods¡­ a presence of some kind. However, my friends were safe¡­ for the time being. I texted Allen at one point just to make sure they all made it. He hadn¡¯t replied yet, so I needed to wait in town before I left. I had to know everyone was alright before I hit the road again.

    After a very long time of hunting and killing; tearing back and forth across the country¡­ it was time for a little break. If I didn¡¯t get any names or visions¡­ obviously. I was back in my borrowed house. Well, Martin¡¯s house¡­ but it was mine now. I don¡¯t think he¡¯d fight me for it. I still had the key, so I felt I still had a small claim on the place. I might want to check in with Martin, though. Just to let him know I was going to be around, and to not let anyone else come out this way. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I¡¯d be staying.

    I knew the Chasses; they were smart and it would only be a matter of time before they figured it out; or at least had an idea that it might have been me there. They¡¯d realize it was me if Allen told them about the call he made. I had never told Allen, or Eloise, my name or who I was while I was with them. Yet, my methods were one of a kind and unmistakable. Not many things had my level of strength and brutality. Maybe he¡¯d remain as silent as he had been, and they wouldn¡¯t figure it out. I knew I¡¯d have to leave again eventually, so my rational mind didn¡¯t want to stay long. At least¡­ that was my plan. I wanted other things.

    When I finally settled back at my borrowed home, I had showered and changed out of the rags of clothes that were left on me. I laid out across the slightly dusty bed and closed my eyes.

    It had been a few days since I laid down, really cutting that groove into the mattress. I didn¡¯t need the sleep, but just to be able to lay down and close my eyes¡­ it was heaven. An escape from this life, even a brief one, was more than welcomed in my eyes. Plus, that bed, even dusty, was so damn comfortable.

    The bat-outa-hell had been dealt with for about four days before I heard the sound of tires crunching around the corner of my road. Even while sleeping, my senses stayed on alert. The hum of the engine turning off the highway, about a mile and a half up the road, woke me from my slumber. The longer I listened to it the more I realized that someone was coming to the safehouse.

    My eyes creaked open and I felt like Dracula waking from his coffin. Since I didn¡¯t think anyone would take me too seriously in my human nudity, I decided to put on the clothes I had stashed here before I started getting hammered with visions. They were coming up fast, and I didn¡¯t have time to pick out the cleanest set of clothes.

    Like a shadow, I vanished from the small abode, disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding wilderness. I was above the house, out of sight in the branches of an overgrown oak tree. My senses peaked, and I observed the area as the vehicle approached. I couldn¡¯t see through the branches but I could hear them for now. I¡¯d adjust as I needed.

    The large vehicle came to a crunchy stop right off the small road to what could be considered my driveway. I heard two sets of feet hop out, one only stepped forward toward my home a few feet, but the other shuffled around the vehicle to meet the other pair. Once together, they both walked up to my door without hesitation. The dirt and dried leaves crunched beneath the intruders. They paced up to the front door with calm but steadfast determination. Nothing was stopping them. A stern knock vibrated the front door ever so slightly. I curiously adjusted myself in the branches to get a look at their faces. However, their scents already told me who they were. The prey stood right outside of the predator¡¯s door, waiting to be snatched inside to their death. At least¡­ this is what Carter might have felt like.

    My eyes adjusted quickly to see very familiar and unexpected faces. It was Carter and Eleanor. There they stood on Martin¡¯s front porch. Eleanor looked at the door expectantly, ready to see me again, but I could tell she was trying to hold back¡­ uncertain after so much time had passed. She had on a light black jacket with a hood hanging out of the back. Her clothes reminded me of how I usually skulked the shadows. I smirked at the thought.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± was all she said as they opened the door and searched for my presence.

    After ten months¡­ it felt right. I missed the bond I had with them, and it felt like it had never been tried by time. It was like it was only yesterday that I had spoken with them last.

    But it was too unexpected. I wasn¡¯t ready. I froze for a moment in those trees. Should I drop down and see them again? Should I let them search the house and find nothing? I knew it was better for them if they didn¡¯t mingle with me too much. Like Carter had once said before¡­ I was a magnet for dangerous shit.

    Too many questions were invading my mind. What did they want? I think I started to look like a deer in headlights when I didn¡¯t move up there. I just stared at them for a few seconds.

    I dropped from the branches of the tree, plummeting about forty feet to the earth below. My powerful landing made the two seasoned hunters spin on their heels quickly to see what was behind them. A small cloud of dust kicked up from the ground as my weight impacted. I connected my eyes with them, and the fright of something getting the literal drop on them passed after a few seconds. Recognition took over and they saw me for the first time.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± Carter breathed quickly, calming shortly after. His hand was reaching back behind his light coat, gripping a silver loaded revolver. He let it go quickly.

    ¡°We thought you might be here,¡± Eleanor smiled as she spoke. It was almost a smirk.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I apologized. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure who it was, so I made myself scarce.¡± I stopped speaking.

    We all just stared at each other for a few moments. Unsure of how to take the next steps. I wanted to ease their minds.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you both,¡± I started.

    ¡°Its good to see you, Sam. You look good¡­ safe.¡± Eleanor looked a little relieved.

    ¡°I hope this is alright,¡± Carter said. ¡°We were afraid if we called that you wouldn¡¯t want to meet.¡±

    Carter was exactly like I remembered him to be up close. I had spent so much time away from all of them over the last ten months that I started to forget the little things about them. It was all coming back quickly, however.

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s fine. I¡¯m just¡­ surprised is all,¡± I tried to adjust myself there in the overgrown brush to act and seem more normal. Nothing about the scene was normal.

    ¡°Can we come in?¡± Eleanor asked seriously, motioning into the darkness of the safehouse behind them.

    I laughed a little, pointing ahead for them to go on. ¡°Yes, please¡­¡± waiving them inside.

    Eleanor offered a thankful smile and walked into the structure. She wasn¡¯t afraid of me at all. Carter however seemed more alert, guard up a little higher than Eleanor. Yet, I could tell he wanted this to be a good meeting.

    I took a deep breath outside in the woods. This was okay¡­ for now. I had to remain in control, and not get too close again. I followed them in, walking into the familiar scent that lingered behind their backs. It was the aroma that filled their house, stained into the fabric of their clothes. I loved it. It reminded me of a better time.

    I closed the door behind me as I stepped through the passageway. They were entirely alone with me, totally cut off from the world and any help it had to offer. I just looked at them for a moment as I tried to prepare myself for what they might say. How would I explain myself? The anger of that night, the unwillingness to help Eleanor, the outward flair of the monster creeping through, and my absolute absence from their lives for the past ten months. So much had happened, and so much time had passed.

    Carter laughed, ¡°Do you have any lights?¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit,¡± I said under my breath as I reached for the switch by the door. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    The room was lit up, and they could see me as much as I could already see them. Eleanor¡¯s dark hair flowed out from around her neck, swept over her left shoulder. She was still smiling at me softly. I could tell she had a lot she wanted to say.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need the lights to see, do you?¡± Carter asked curiously.

    I stuttered in my response from all the years of hiding my true nature, ¡°No¡­ I can see in the dark just as good the light.¡± I looked up, motioning towards the incandescent bulbs.

    ¡°What else can you do?¡± Eleanor asked innocently.

    I wasn¡¯t sure how to start the list, ¡°A lot.¡±

    She nodded slowly like she was adding things to the list of oddities about me.

    ¡°This seems pretty different compared to your last place¡­¡± Carter noticed, looking around the lightly dusty and empty place. He had seen the filthy condemned factory where I used to live.

    ¡°Yeah, it is. It¡¯s nice to have somewhere to relax that isn¡¯t filthy and made of stone. Martin was pretty generous when he let me stay here before.¡± I spoke casually.

    ¡°No, he¡¯s not,¡± Carter snorted. ¡°If you saw where he actually lives, you¡¯d think he¡¯s been holding out on you.¡±

    ¡°Inside of his bar?¡± I questioned.

    ¡°No,¡± he shook his head informatively. ¡°That¡¯s where he wants you to think he lives, just in case the wrong people come looking for him. His real place is much nicer than this. Not many people know about it.¡±

    I let out a smirk, ¡°I see. Well, I guess I¡¯m squatting now. It was a long time ago that he let me come out here. I haven¡¯t talked to him since I¡¯ve been back in town.¡±

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    We all stood in silence for a moment. I think they were trying to figure out what to say, or maybe just how to start. I think they were still trying to gauge my presence and how to approach a conversation with me now that they knew the truth¡­ well, partly.

    ¡°How did you find me?¡± I asked. ¡°Allen?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Carter answered, his eyebrows rising as he let out a sigh. ¡°I knew where you were before. Once Allen told us he reached out to you, we figured you might still be around.¡±

    Eleanor had a look on her face that made me realize that not all had been made aware of my location, or status when I was still here. She looked like she was still angry with him about it, but she hid it well. Carter must have been withholding information from everyone else, keeping tabs in secret just to have as much information as possible without raising any unwanted attention my way.

    I wanted to thank him for that. I didn¡¯t want to see anyone during those few dark weeks, before the visions took over. I wanted to be alone.

    ¡°So, why did you come?¡± I asked, hoping they didn¡¯t take my question the wrong way, but I had to know what they came looking for.

    Eleanor stared right into my eyes, ¡°I know what you did.¡±

    I nodded, expecting this to come from them eventually. It was only a matter of time before I spoke to at least one of them. ¡°I¡¯m glad I could help bring your family back together. Allen was caught up with some bad people over there.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t even begin to describe what it felt like to see him again. His being alive wasn¡¯t ever a thought in my mind. I never expected to have my boy back,¡± Eleanor spoke with eyes that began to glisten. ¡°We have a lot of questions about how you found him,¡± she spoke from the heart, ¡°but, that¡¯s not what I meant.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I know what you did for me. I remember¡­ everything,¡± she stopped there, waiting for my response.

    ¡°Everything?¡± I asked. I felt a nervous tickle inside my stomach.

    Eleanor just nodded. Then, she began to cry. She wrapped her arms around my neck so fast that I had no time to brace myself. She was squeezing my neck so hard that I thought she was trying to incapacitate me.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Sam,¡± Eleanor kept saying to me over and over again, almost a whisper. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    Carter stepped closer to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He didn¡¯t show emotion like Eleanor, but I could sense what he felt. On the inside, he was just as torn up as his wife.

    We were silent again while we thought about what to say. In that moment of quiet grief¡­ I felt a speck of happiness. I felt like I had a family that cared for me, and what I was going through.

    ¡°You could have returned to your human life,¡± Eleanor said. ¡°Is that true?¡±

    I only nodded. I couldn¡¯t speak the words.

    ¡°Your family before¡­ Autumn said that you told her they thought you were dead?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Why haven¡¯t you gone back to them?¡± Eleanor asked. Then she slowly added, ¡°Is it because of your daughter?¡±

    My jaw visibly clenched at the words. They knew my deepest darkest secret. It was the one thing I had hoped to keep from the entire world, but they knew.

    ¡°Listen to me,¡± I stepped forward to them. ¡°No one can know about Caydee. I¡¯ve stayed away this long so she can have a normal life¡­ a family. I can¡¯t go back, and I have to keep her a secret. All of my family¡­ they can¡¯t be tied to me. If the wrong person finds out about them, they¡¯d be in danger,¡± I urgently explained.

    Once I stopped speaking, I realized that I had paced over to Eleanor and grabbed her by the arm slightly. She wasn¡¯t alarmed by my closeness, but I could tell she felt what I was feeling. Carter was subtly cautious but understanding of my worries. I wasn¡¯t grabbing Eleanor in a threatening way. I was pleading with them to keep my loved ones a secret.

    ¡°We¡¯d never tell anyone,¡± Eleanor honestly admitted. ¡°You can trust us, Sam.¡±

    I let her go and stepped away.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, taking a deep breath.

    ¡°If you think keeping them in the dark about you is best, then we won¡¯t say a word. We can keep them a secret if that¡¯s what you want,¡± Carter said.

    I took another deep breath, sitting down on the couch in the middle of the living room. Eleanor and Carter took a seat across the small living room from me.

    ¡°What about your wife?¡± Carter asked.

    I was silent. I wanted just to tell the truth, but I felt the same urge of secrecy pinning me down like it always had since I began this life. However, my new circumstances won out, and it was for the better.

    ¡°What do you want to know about her?¡±

    They were surprised at my openness.

    ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡± Eleanor asked.

    ¡°Vicky,¡± I told her.

    ¡°Vicky,¡± she paused, thinking about the name. ¡°Do you ever think about going back?¡±

    ¡°I used to in the very beginning¡­ but there were obvious complications.¡±

    ¡°She has no clue about you?¡± Carter asked.

    ¡°No. As soon as I realized what I was, I knew I couldn¡¯t stay. I had this moment,¡± I paused at the shame. I stared at the floor, shaking my head at the memory.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Eleanor asked. ¡°You can tell us.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°I felt the urge to kill my whole family: Vicky, my parents, my sisters, even my twin brother. I could barely control myself¡­ Once I broke myself free, I knew I had to leave. It was the only way I knew I could keep them safe. Now, too much time has passed. She¡¯s got someone else now, helping raise Caydee. They¡¯ve all moved forward.¡±

    They accepted my answer, staying silent again for a few more moments before speaking again.

    ¡°You have a twin?¡± Eleanor asked, shocked again.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ Seth.¡±

    ¡°Seth,¡± she thought about it. ¡°Sam and Seth.¡±

    ¡°I miss him,¡± I openly spoke. ¡°I miss them all. It¡¯s been hard¡­ alone. I¡¯ve just always been scared that when the time comes, I won¡¯t be able to stop myself.¡±

    ¡°When the time comes?¡± Carter asked at my wording.

    ¡°When the need gets too strong, and I have to hunt.¡±

    ¡°To feed¡­¡± Carter nodded, thinking they understood. They must have all thought that I fed on my victims from before in a way that they had never seen. The bodies I left in my wake were mutilated but not fed on visibly. They must have thought I was still feeding in some other way. Maybe they were right¡­ or maybe I was just a killer. They were hunters, and they were always trying to understand creatures, especially new ones they have never seen.

    ¡°I¡¯m not feeding,¡± I assured. ¡°I don¡¯t feed on anyone I hunt. I find them¡­ and I kill them. I¡¯m not a monster that hunts and kills to survive. I hunt and kill. I don¡¯t do it for survival. I do it because I feel a pull inside of myself, from the beast¡­ this thing I have inside of me. I¡¯m not sure where one ends, and the other begins anymore. But I have to kill¡­ it''s only a matter of time.¡±

    Carter¡¯s body language changed to a more defensive pose as I spoke. Eleanor pulled a leg up into her chest as she sat back on the couch across from me, her arms wrapped around her knee.

    My statements threw off their questioning. I don¡¯t know if they were fully ready for that much honesty yet, but they needed to hear it.

    ¡°Those men you killed a while back, the night with that van full of missing people. They were human,¡± Carter remembered.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve killed humans a lot longer than I¡¯ve killed monsters,¡± I said.

    Carter nodded, accepting my truth, ¡°But, they were monsters.¡±

    I cocked my head to the side, unsure at his words.

    ¡°You forget a lot, don¡¯t you,¡± he smirked. ¡°Monsters come in all different forms. It¡¯s not your existence that determines what you are; it¡¯s your actions.¡±

    ¡°I remember,¡± I said, recalling the very same words that Autumn had spoken to me all those months ago.

    ¡°Those men that night were monsters. Some of my family might disagree with your methods, but we can all agree that there are human beings in this world that are far more evil than the monsters we hunt. I don¡¯t want to just let humans off the hook because they¡¯re not supernatural. Martin and Jane would never do anything like what those three men were doing, but if they did, we¡¯d hunt them with no question. If you wouldn¡¯t have stepped in that night, then those kids might not have survived.¡± Carter seemed to have really thought about it before.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re okay with what I am¡­ with what I do?¡± I asked them both. If either of them said yes, then I¡¯d think that they were either drunk or crazy.

    Neither answered right away. Eleanor looking down into the floor. She didn¡¯t move a muscle as she finally spoke, ¡°That thing we saw you turn into, that night at the Wicklow¡¯s¡­ That was the scariest and most powerful thing I¡¯ve ever seen. Just hearing you on the other side of that hill the other night, killing that Olitiau the other night at the cave¡­ I can¡¯t explain or understand it, but you¡¯re something different. None of us know how to categorize you,¡± Eleanor said motioning towards Carter. ¡°Your other half is¡­ uniquely terrifying.¡±

    Silence fell after her words.

    ¡°So, where does that leave us?¡± I asked, cutting to the chase.

    ¡°We can¡¯t act like you don¡¯t scare the shit out of us, because you do. But¡­ we want you close to us,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve done things for me, and my family, that wouldn¡¯t have been possible for anyone else. I can¡¯t ignore that,¡± she said, checking the boxes in her mind as she explained. She sounded like she had said these things to herself before. ¡°I cannot speak for everyone, not even Carter,¡± Eleanor looked back to her husband again, ¡°but I need you close. I feel this connection to you¡­ it¡¯s hard to explain. I feel like you¡¯re another one of my kids that I need to protect¡­¡± She shook her head as she tried to put her thoughts into words. ¡°I know you don¡¯t literally need my protection, but I know what you had to give up¡­ and I don¡¯t want you to have to give up anything else. You don¡¯t have to stay alone like this.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Carter added. ¡°I know all you¡¯ve done for us too, and I know that you¡¯ve never done anything to directly hurt the family. I still consider you just as much a part of us as I ever have. Honestly, I feel like I¡¯m having D¨¦j¨¤ vu, because I know we¡¯ve had this same conversation before. That night in my backyard.¡±

    I nodded, trying to push the knot in my throat back down before I spoke.

    ¡°But you have questions,¡± I recognized.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Carter added, ¡°We all do.¡±

    ¡°Ask away,¡± I offered.

    ¡°Why have you stayed away for so long?¡± Eleanor asked.

    ¡°I think it has always just been easy for me to disappear. Once I left my whole family behind, it became easier to just abandon everything and live in the shadows,¡± I admitted to her.

    ¡°Are you going to do that again?¡± Eleanor asked.

    I looked up and her eyes were sharply trained on me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t want you to either,¡± she agreed. ¡°So, stay¡­ here with us. I¡¯ll be here for you whenever you are ready to talk.¡±

    I nodded without speaking.

    Carter piped up unexpectedly, ¡°We worried about you every night since we last saw you. I had Martin keeping an eye out for you to make sure we¡¯d know when you came back. We weren¡¯t sure what was happening with you, but we wanted to give you space. Then¡­ we never saw you again.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to just stay away again,¡± I assured. ¡°I¡¯ll try to answer your questions, but there might be some things I don¡¯t know, or I can¡¯t tell you¡­¡± I warned them, hoping they¡¯d take that well.

    ¡°Why are there things you can¡¯t tell us?¡± Carter was confused.

    ¡°There are others I¡¯ve met, I think they were meant to help me, but I still don¡¯t fully trust them or what they said. They said that I could tell those closest to me about my true nature, but it might be better to keep them in the dark. To keep them safe.¡±

    Eleanor¡¯s eyes were a mix of intrigue and fear, ¡°Is that something you¡¯ll tell us?¡±

    I sat across from her in that chair, begging for a reason to pop into my mind. Yet, the words kept coming out. I just hoped I wouldn¡¯t come to regret this.

    ¡°Sometimes¡­ I see things that are sent from someone else. I¡¯m given like¡­ these visions and the name of the person the visions are about. It¡¯s a target¡­ someone that needs to be killed. When that happens, it''s like¡­ I want to do it. I can feel how evil and wrong the person is. I can¡¯t tell if it''s actually me feeling these things, or the one that is putting these thoughts in my mind. Long story short, if I get a name¡­ they¡¯re dead.¡±

    Carter and Eleanor were quiet for a good minute or two, scared to ask anything else. I think he thought I was being controlled by someone else, and it was only a matter of time before I was sent for his own family for some fucked up reason. That¡¯s what I would probably think if the roles were reversed.

    ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation, that¡¯s the main reason I¡¯ve been gone. I had only ever gotten two before I disappeared. They were both witches that were nothing but pure evil; Mucia and her servant Charlotte Gunderson. They killed innocent people to prolong their own lives and give them more power. They were the definition of evil,¡± I explained it pretty one-sided, hoping they¡¯d have the same thoughts I did. I felt like I was getting them back, and I didn¡¯t want to lose them again. ¡°Then, one night at Martin¡¯s, a vision hit me out of nowhere. I left town, and when it was done, I got another, then another. It just kept going.¡±

    More silence fell between us.

    ¡°Where do the visions come from?¡± Eleanor asked. ¡°Jon?¡±

    ¡°How do you know that name?¡±

    ¡°I remembered it from when I was with you in that other place. You were talking to him like you knew him,¡± she informed. ¡°You called him Jon.¡±

    ¡°Jon was¡­¡± I gathered myself, ¡°he was a monster like me. He was kind of preparing me, I guess. He was teaching me, but the visions don¡¯t come from him.¡±

    ¡°Then where?¡± Carter asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s another¡­ person,¡± I struggled to explain the entity, ¡°in that place. I¡¯ve never really gotten a good look at them up close, but they¡¯ve been around me since the night I was killed. They¡¯ve been behind everything that has happened to me since I became this¡­ thing,¡± I relived my time around the being. ¡°I have absolutely no idea who or what he is, but it¡¯s more powerful than anything else I¡¯ve met.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Carter was perplexed. Obvious questions went unasked in his mind.

    No one said anything right after, breaking the pace of our conversation. This opened a new door for them. The knowledge that there were even greater threats than my looming monstrosity that erupted from within. Things that they knew nothing about.

    ¡°If this is too much¡­ I¡¯ll understand if you want me to leave. I won¡¯t argue it,¡± I offered.

    Eleanor¡¯s eyes glanced up at me after I spoke, squinting at me like she thought I couldn¡¯t understand something.

    ¡°You think you can scare us off that easily?¡± she joked.

    Carter joined with a laugh, ¡°You definitely have more to your story than I think either of us realized,¡± he motioned to Eleanor, ¡°but we¡¯re not going anywhere. We want to know whatever you¡¯ll tell us.¡±

    I felt relief pass across my stressing mind. This was going much better than I had ever imagined it would. Then I remembered something I needed to do.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for before,¡± I apologized to them. ¡°When I snapped at you in your house. I wasn¡¯t feeling myself that night, but I¡¯m okay now. I¡¯m not really sure what was going on with me.¡±                ¡°I¡¯m sorry too. I felt like I had something glazed over my mind ever since we came back from that other place, and I couldn¡¯t remember anything. That¡¯s why we had so many questions. It cleared randomly one night. That¡¯s when I remembered what happened in that other place,¡± Eleanor told me.

    ¡°The fields. That¡¯s what Jon called it.¡±

    ¡°The fields,¡± Eleanor and Carter both muttered to themselves.

    Their demeanors looked like they were ready for more information. I started into more of my past history. I wanted to tell them about my life, and the hand I had been dealt over the last few years.

 Chapter 38 - Crows

    It was late in the evening, the hours slipping by unnoticed as Carter and Eleanor lingered, listening intently as I unraveled the story of my life. The parts I didn¡¯t want to keep secret, at least. We had spent most of the day in the living room, piecing together the fragments of the last ten months. We spoke about the time before, and everything that came after the transformation that had turned me into the killer I had become. I watched their faces closely, half-expecting the unease to surface, but they kept their expressions measured, cautious, as if testing the weight of every word I spoke.

    Carter nodded occasionally, his eyes flickering with a restrained uncertainty, but it was Eleanor who surprised me most. She absorbed every detail, her gaze soft yet searching, like she was trying to reconcile the person she knew with the twisted reality before her. I could see the concern etched into her features, the way she clung to the idea that I was still someone to be protected, not feared. It was as if her motherly instincts refused to let go, wrapping around me tightly, trying to shield me from a world that now recoiled at the mere thought of what I had become. But beneath her accepting exterior, I sensed her apprehension¡­ an unspoken fear of what I was tied to, and of the power she knew I wielded. And yet, she held on, teetering between the urge to protect and the quiet dread of what protecting me really meant.

    ¡°What did you do for those two years in between?¡± Eleanor asked. ¡°Until you met us.¡±

    ¡°I stayed in the factory most of the time. I¡¯d only ever go out if I needed to kill. I always stuck to the parts of town that had the most nightlife, but it always worried me. I was always so scared I wouldn¡¯t be able to control it, and I¡¯d kill an innocent person. So, I¡¯d find someone that met my¡­ standards. Then, I¡¯d take them.¡±

    ¡°They had to have killed someone¡­¡± Carter remembered from earlier in the day.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I answered. However, I left out the part about me being guided to those people by the cloaked Being that had been orchestrating my life. For good or¡­ something else. I was worried the thought of the being would be the tipping point. I left out a lot about him¡­ it, or whatever the fuck that thing was.

    ¡°When you¡¯re¡­¡± Eleanor struggled to come up with a name, ¡°that thing, do you remember anything? Are you in control at all?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m in control, but...¡± I added, ¡°sometimes I feel like the monster takes over my mind and makes me think I want to do those things. Maybe I already do¡­ I don¡¯t know. Sometimes I picture it like a separate entity altogether. Like¡­ I¡¯m still me, and that thing is something else. Over the past few months though¡­ I feel like that thought is slipping. Maybe it¡¯s just me.¡± I fell silent for a second. ¡°All I know for sure is that, when I find someone who has done things that bring them to my attention, I feel no remorse.¡±

    ¡°Are you scared that it is just you?¡±

    ¡°All the time. Sometimes I worry that it¡¯s getting easier to accept, or justify it to myself,¡± I answered. ¡°People like them need to be stopped, but I never wanted to be a killer. But¡­ I just can¡¯t seem to stop¡­¡±

    ¡°And you have to kill¡­¡± Carter said, going over what we talked about earlier.

    ¡°Yes. The only thing I can control is the small window of time I can hold out until I do.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re afraid that if you wait too long, then you might kill someone who doesn¡¯t deserve it?¡± Eleanor asked.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± I said.

    They took everything pretty well, but I could tell they still had questions. They both knew I killed humans as well as monsters. They didn¡¯t justify it to themselves as anything else. Still, they had a similar outlook on the evilest of human beings the world could spit out. Carter and Eleanor knew they needed to be stopped, but the way I did it was¡­ unsettling; I could see it in their eyes.

    ¡°If you see it again,¡± I said, speaking of my other half, ¡°do you think you¡¯ll look at me the same?¡± I asked them both.

    Eleanor didn¡¯t answer right away. She actually thought about it, ¡°I don¡¯t remember a lot of detail about that night, because of the venom. But as I laid in the dirt¡­ seeing all the fire and chaos already¡­¡± she tried to get her thoughts out. ¡°I can¡¯t describe what I felt when I saw you for the first time.¡± She reiterated, ¡°The thing you turn into¡­ I¡¯m sure I¡¯d be just as shocked and scared initially¡­ but knowing it¡¯s you behind that thing¡­¡± she nodded to herself. ¡°That might make it easier.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to say something, and I don¡¯t want you to take it the wrong way,¡± I tried to prepare them for my statement.

    They were both silently waiting for my words.

    I knew all too well that the force driving me could pull me into far darker depths than I¡¯d yet seen, and I couldn¡¯t let my friends be dragged into that abyss. I had to ensure that, if the shadows around me loomed too close again, they had a way to cut me loose. A chance to turn away if they needed, without hesitation or guilt. I wasn¡¯t running from family or friends anymore, not when they¡¯d become the anchor to what little humanity I still clung to.

    I think it was getting harder and harder for me to tell where normal human beings shouldn¡¯t be, where the human world and the unknown should divide to not bring down irreversible consequences. There had to be a line in the sand, and I didn¡¯t think it was me that should decide where it was.

    ¡°I know what I am now, and what I¡¯ll have to do when those times come. That won¡¯t change. With that being said, I know who you guys are. If at any point you want to separate your family from me¡­ do it. Don¡¯t be afraid of what I¡¯ll do, or what I¡¯ll think. I¡¯ll understand, and I won¡¯t stop you from protecting your family from a threat.¡±

    The seriousness and fear from their memories of me as the monster, and of our extensive conversation made them both take what I said very seriously. Carter actually nodded as he understood exactly what I was saying. Eleanor didn¡¯t say a word. I could tell she didn¡¯t like the idea, but she knew I just wanted to keep their family safe. She didn¡¯t challenge my words like I thought she would.

    They both sat in silence, looking at each other for a few moments like they were having some kind of internal dialogue. I said nothing, letting my words sink in.

    ¡°Speaking of threats¡­ there¡¯s another reason we hoped to find you,¡± Carter¡¯s voice broke through, low and weighted. ¡°It¡¯s not just about reconnecting.¡± He paused, a shadow crossing his expression. ¡°What did you see that night at Cliff Cave? Did you notice anything¡­ anyone¡­ with glowing green eyes?¡±

    I squinted, thrown by the sudden shift in his tone. ¡°No. Should I have?¡±

    Carter¡¯s gaze darkened, and Eleanor looked away, her face tight with unease. ¡°There was something out there,¡± Carter said slowly, like every word tasted bitter. ¡°Someone was controlling the bat. The Olitiau¡­ it obeyed, like it was bound to some will stronger than its own. We all heard it¡­ a voice from the woods, laughing, mocking us.¡±

    A chill ran down my spine as I searched my memory. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t hear any voice. But¡­¡± The memory resurfaced, a faint flicker of something I¡¯d dismissed. ¡°There was this¡­ presence. It felt like eyes on my back, something lurking in the shadows, watching. But I didn¡¯t think much of it. I was too focused on the attack.¡± My voice trailed off, tinged with uncertainty. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Carter admitted, his frustration barely contained. ¡°But Allen and Eloise¡­ they¡¯ve been on edge ever since. They¡¯ve got this¡­ feeling. They say it reminds them of France, back when the curse first took hold.¡±

    Eleanor cut in; her voice edged with worry. ¡°Bartley and Annabelle are looking into it, trying to dig up anything they can. But whatever it is¡­ it¡¯s not something we¡¯re used to facing.¡±

    Carter¡¯s jaw clenched, his voice hardening. ¡°We deal with flesh and blood threats. But this? This feels different. Something twisted. It¡¯s like it¡¯s crawling out of a nightmare, keeping us looking over our shoulders.¡±

    Eleanor leaned closer, her voice almost a whisper. ¡°We want you to come to the house, meet with everyone. We need you with us if this thing makes a move on us again.¡±

    I could feel the weight of their fear, the unspoken dread hovering between us. ¡°Allen and Eloise think something followed them,¡± Eleanor said, hesitant. ¡°From France.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± I snapped, though even as the words left my mouth, doubt crept in. ¡°Nothing could¡¯ve followed us the way we left...¡±

    Carter¡¯s eyes were cold, unblinking. ¡°This thing¡­ whatever it is, it¡¯s like Annabelle. Maybe worse. It completely negated our weapons in seconds; took away our escape. But¡­ it didn¡¯t strike directly. It used the bat. That means it¡¯s afraid to face us head-on.¡±

    I looked between them, feeling the pull of old loyalties and new fears. ¡°So, you want me back in, to hunt this thing down?¡±

    Eleanor opened her mouth to speak, but Carter¡¯s voice cut through. ¡°We need you. This isn¡¯t just a threat¡­it¡¯s the first warning. It wants us to know it sees us.¡±

    Eleanor cut in after a moment, ¡°But that¡¯s not the only reason, Sam. We do want you back, in whatever way this new dynamic will work.¡±

    Carter nodded, his expression shifting suddenly as if he¡¯d remembered something urgent. He glanced at his phone, his jaw tightening. ¡°Damn¡­ we¡¯ve gotta wrap this up soon. We can¡¯t stay here much longer.¡±

    I furrowed my brow, sensing the tension in his voice. ¡°Why? What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Oh no,¡± Eleanor muttered, her own eyes glued to her screen. She looked visibly tense, her movements quick and anxious. ¡°We¡¯ve really got to get back. We told everyone we were meeting a new supplier out of town for the company. They think we¡¯re on a business trip¡­ if we don¡¯t show up soon, they¡¯ll start asking questions.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re hiding this meeting from them?¡± I asked, the realization dawning on me.

    Eleanor¡¯s eyes darted up to meet mine, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. ¡°No, it¡¯s not like that. It¡¯s just¡­¡± She took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. ¡°We need to be careful about how we handle this. Things have been¡­ complicated these past few months. Everyone¡¯s been on edge. I just don¡¯t know if they¡¯re ready for your return yet.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s everyone?¡± I pressed, sensing there was more to her hesitation.

    Carter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°We¡¯ve had some family in and out of town lately. Our cousins showed up right after the whole thing with Eloise¡­ the scare. We may have portrayed it more a s a near death scenario. When Allen¡¯s situation popped up, they rushed back. And now, we¡¯ve got them constantly hovering, trying to ¡®help¡¯ with the aftermath.¡±

    Eleanor nodded, frustration seeping into her voice. ¡°Annabelle¡¯s been particularly insistent about giving you space. She doesn¡¯t want to overwhelm you like last time. She¡¯s trying to be careful, but she doesn¡¯t know we¡¯re here. Or maybe she does. It¡¯s hard to tell with her¡­ You know how she is, always three steps ahead of the rest of us, whether we like it or not.¡±

    Carter shot a weary glance at Eleanor, then back to me. ¡°It¡¯s not just about hiding you. It¡¯s about managing the chaos. Everyone¡¯s on edge, and we¡¯re trying to keep things from boiling over within the family.¡±

    We stepped outside, weaving through the thick underbrush that concealed Martin¡¯s safe house. Poison ivy and tangled vines clung to the entrance, and I held back the branches, clearing the way as we moved toward their black Suburban. The sky was painted in the fading hues of twilight, a thin line of light still lingering on the horizon.

    Carter paused by the car, his shoulders sagging as he turned back to me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we have to cut this short. Honestly, it¡¯s been¡­ good, talking with you. I¡¯ve wanted to catch up for a while now, ever since the first night.¡± He chuckled softly, though it was tinged with a hint of regret. ¡°I just¡­ I hope we get more time. There¡¯s a lot we still need to figure out.¡± His words hung in the air, a question wrapped in a hope, and I could feel the weight of what wasn¡¯t being said. There was more to come, but nothing about it was going to be easy.

    ¡°Oh, Sam¡¯s not going anywhere,¡± Eleanor smiled as she reached up to hug my neck again like she had in the morning. ¡°Are you Sam?¡± she asked almost with a threatening tone that made me laugh.

    ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± I played like her threat actually scared me. ¡°At least, not of my own choice. If it calls me¡­ I can¡¯t stop the visions.¡±

    ¡°Do what you have to, Sam. Once you¡¯re done, come back,¡± Carter offered.

    Eleanor patted my back, ¡°Just give us some time and we¡¯ll work everything out with the rest of the family. Once we figure something out, we¡¯ll reach out.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Sorry again that we have to leave so quick, Sam,¡± Carter said. ¡°If you go out around town, keep your ear to the ground. Let us know if you find anything out about the Olitiau, or the other person out there. There¡¯s always talk, maybe seek out Martin, and his place.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I assured them. ¡°Do what you have to; don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯ll be here, or somewhere in the city. I¡¯ll see what I can find out.¡±

    Eleanor nodded, unfortunately. Then, they both got inside the SUV and buckled up for their drive home. I stood beside the passenger door and Eleanor rolled down her window.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure when we¡¯ll be able to get away again, now that our cousins know, but we¡¯ll try,¡± she said as they slowly pulled away from me.

    ¡°No worries. I¡¯ll be standing by,¡± I smiled. ¡°My schedule is wide open.¡±

    She rolled her window up with a light grin as they backed out onto the small road. In only a few moments they were on their way home, and I was alone again.

    When they were out of sight, I turned and walked back to the front door. As I turned the knob, I heard the caw of a bird. I turned slightly as I opened the door and saw a black bird sitting on a tree branch in the darkening sky. It seemed like it was looking right at me.

    I paced back inside of the house, smelling the Chasses scents all throughout like they were still there. I hoped it would last for a while since I wasn¡¯t sure when I¡¯d actually see them again.

    I walked back into my bedroom to find some clothes for an outing into the city. I liked the way my hoodie concealed my face in the dark of the night when I lurked through the shadows. No matter how much the Chasses knew about me, I still had to hide from the rest of the world. After all, I was supposed to be dead.

    I took my old, stashed clothes to the small laundry machine that was tucked away in a back closet of the small house. They sat in this place for so long they all accumulated a good layer of dust. I got a load going and let the machine do its thing. It was funny how little chores like laundry or dishes brought back memories of my old life.

    I pictured myself back in my first house with Vicky: doing the laundry, the dishes, folding clothes, and all manner of household chores. I started to think about what Carter and Eleanor had asked me again. Would I ever go back? I wanted to believe I never would, but I wasn¡¯t so sure, especially after my last trip home.

    When I saw the picture of Allen and knew he was alive, I had formulated a plan that required me to go home, back to Dallas. It was there that I saw my family again. I visited Vicky, Ben, and little Caydee that day, from the shadows of the surrounding woods. They were happy, and they seemed totally fine in life. I remember the relief I felt. It was everything I wanted for them to have after I had been ripped from my normal life. I stayed there for a long time, not wanting to leave, but knowing I couldn¡¯t stay. I wouldn¡¯t fit in their lives. I watched Vicky and Ben taking care of little Caydee for most of the early evening I was there.

    After that, I went to my parents¡¯ house and looked in on them. They were exactly as I remembered them. They sat in their living room, watching a game show and swiping through different apps on a tablet. At one point, Dad saw something hilarious, a real knee slapper that made him cackle out like a hyena. He was laughing so loud that Mom cut her eyes over at him and told him to shut up. They were just the same as I remembered, and I missed them. It was getting harder to leave each house as the night went on.

    I saw both sisters and their families. My oldest sister had another baby, and I had another nephew. They were all asleep, but from my sleuthing outside, I came to the conclusion that his name was Gage. Big colorful letters on the nursery wall gave it away. He looked exactly like pictures of my sister from when she was a baby. A lot had happened since I had been gone from their lives.

    Then, I made the trip to my brother¡¯s house. I had to linger in the trees about a half mile from his home. I waited there until it was late enough, and most of the neighborhood was asleep. I was like a cat burglar, in and out without ever making a sound. I was there for one thing, Seth¡¯s passport. I needed it if I wanted to make my way in and out of the country, and seeing as I was dead, I was just going to have to impersonate my twin brother.

    I looked in on him while he slept in his bed beside his wife, Sheila. He looked exactly the same, just like me. I had a lot more solid compacted muscle than he did, but he was always bigger than me when I was a human. He lifted weights a lot more than I did, and I always liked to tell him that his extra size and muscle was just his baby fat that stayed around too long, but he really was a lot stronger than me back then. Now¡­ not so much.

    Seeing him again was¡­ hard, to say the least. I missed him so much. I think I had just gotten so good at going numb and not thinking about the hard things, that I never confronted the feelings of not being around my twin brother anymore. I wondered what it was like for him. I could catch a glimpse of what I¡¯d feel when I thought about it a little, so I quickly put the wall back up. If he felt what I tucked away¡­ I couldn¡¯t think about him being in so much silent agony. I know he¡¯d never show it to anyone. I was just glad he had the rest of our family to be with him in the hard times.

    Sometimes, one of the best ways for me to continue on after losing everything I had, was to realize that at least it didn¡¯t happen to Seth. If he had to go through all this¡­ I don¡¯t know how I¡¯d be able to handle that. Just the thought of him out here in the supernatural world¡­ all alone. It was one of the reasons I thought it best for them all to think I was dead. I was at peace, in my final rest. The pain of the truth would be worse. The lie¡­ it was a mercy. At least that¡¯s what I told myself.

    After I collected myself in Seth¡¯s house, I grabbed the passport out of his drawer where I knew he kept his most important items and headed out. This wasn¡¯t the hardest time I had to leave my family, but it rocked me more than I expected it to.

    It wasn¡¯t long before I found myself boarding a flight in Texas, hitting multiple layovers until I was on a plane soaring across the ocean to France. I used Seth¡¯s passport with no issue, paying cash for my ticket. I had to give an address for some reason, even though I gave cash. I think they were trying to get me signed up for frequent flyer bullshit. The lady at the ticket counter seemed new, or maybe she was just petrified by the feeling she got from looking me in the face. I almost froze up when she asked, but suddenly I remembered the Chasses address. I put it down instantly, not overthinking it. It shouldn¡¯t have been an issue.

    It wasn¡¯t until I found Allen, and watched him for a few days, that I discovered he was a werewolf. This changed my plan on how to get him back to America. While I studied his movements, I searched the web for ways back home. Then luckily, I found the cargo plane that was due to fly across to Norfolk. I did a lot of my signature detective work, listening in on conversations, sneaking into where I didn¡¯t belong and stuff. Commercial cargo was lightly secured. It was a fast and loose plan, so I was playing most of it by the hour, but somehow everything panned out exactly the way I needed them to. We all snuck onto the plane, so I didn¡¯t have to use the passport again. The plane was massive and lightly manned, making it easy to monitor and elude the few workers that roamed the aircraft in flight. I noted this option just in case the need to cross the sea ever presented itself to me again.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Strangely, pretending to be my twin brother made me feel oddly close to him. I still had his passport in my new hideout. I was going to give it back eventually since he might need it, but I was honestly scared to go back. I didn¡¯t want to see them again. It made me have thoughts of the possibilities if I went back. I couldn¡¯t do that. I had made the decision, and I had to stay away. Just thinking those thoughts made me feel like a piece of shit.

    After having those moments of memories in Martin¡¯s place, I shut the door behind me, locking the deadbolt until my return. I was going to get out and roam the city. I needed to go see Martin and let him know I was back, if the Chasses hadn¡¯t already done so.

    When I turned from the door, I looked upon a startling sight; and that¡¯s saying something since most things didn¡¯t scare me anymore. No longer was one crow watching me there in the trees. A murder of crows was lingering in-between the branches as I stepped out of the house. I looked outside of my property and saw nothing else like this in the surrounding area. They were in my trees and even spaced out across the roof of the house. These crows had all congregated in my area and swarmed my house. They weren¡¯t doing anything except watching me. Randomly, one of the various birds would call out across the area in a series of harsh caws, followed by another crow repeating the same series of noises.

    This was probably one of the strangest things I had ever seen to date. It wasn¡¯t normal. I started to wonder if they were being drawn to me for some reason.

    ¡°Not a single one of you better take a shit right now,¡± I said out loud to them. I couldn¡¯t even imagine the mess.

    Then, as soon as I stepped off the porch stair, they all shot out of the trees in a tornado of wings and shrill cries, all of them now cawing as they dispersed. In a few short moments of the black whirlwind, they were gone. I didn¡¯t know what to make of it.

    I came to my new motorcycle, which was thankfully free of any bird shit. I stole it from a small town just outside of Indianapolis after I bailed off a train. I felt bad about it, but my need was more urgent than the poor guy I stole it from. When I plucked him from the bike, I did toss him into some lush bushes. It looked soft enough and he shot right up, screaming at me as I rode away. I¡¯m sure it was all very confusing for him. I ditched it here once I made it to St. Louis so I could make a stealthier approach. I couldn¡¯t just ride up on the Chasses while they battled a gigantic bat monster. Although, as I thought about it, that would have looked pretty cool¡­ talk about an entrance.

    One single crow was sitting there, perched upon one of the handlebars. His talons clacking across the metal of the bike as he hopped across the different perch points. As I came closer to the bike, he flew off and into the street. I got on my motorcycle and started the engine, the roar splitting across the area so loud that the crow flew off a little further down the road. I revved the engine and pulled out onto the road right as the black bird flew off quickly down the street a bit further again. As I made my way out of the twisting roads to the main highway, the crow flew in front of me every straight and turn until we got out of the trees. It was weird, like he was going everywhere I was going to go. Once we were on the highway, he could have gone in any direction. He had three hundred and sixty degrees to choose from, yet he flew down the road in the same direction I was going. He rose higher and higher into the night sky, always staying in front of me as I rode into the city.

    Once I was back into the city limits, I hit a four-way stop, and that fucking crow landed right on top of the stop sign beside me. It cawed at me so loud I could hear it over the rumble of my motorcycle. It took off fast, flying away rapidly down a street. For some reason, I thought it wanted me to follow it, and at this point, it had done things that would qualify for a circus act, so I chased after it. I followed it steadily through the night city for about an hour. We made it to the far side of town, opposite where the Chasses lived, closer to where my old factory was seated.

    The crow never touched the ground as I followed it all the way to the river. The road we were on was vacant and hardly used anymore. This was a once industrial area that had been mostly abandoned by previous businesses. It was only used now as storage for trucks and heavy equipment that looked like they hadn¡¯t been used in years. It was well past business hours for any kind of normal company, so I didn¡¯t need to worry about any prying eyes.

    The single crow landed in a tree at the edge of some dark woods, bordering the Mississippi River. I pulled to a stop and let the motorcycle continue its rumble as the crow perched upon the branch watching me. We sat there for a moment staring back at one another. It lasted for a few minutes.

    ¡°What the fuck am I doing?¡± I huffed out loud. I revved the engine, about to turn back onto the road and leave all of this nonsense behind.

    Then, the bird flew down out of the tree to the ground. It flapped off of the ground for a few seconds, then it would land, and then flutter only a foot or so off of the ground again. It looked like it was trying to get my attention.

    I was taken aback. ¡°Huh,¡± I let out a curious sigh.

    I flipped out the kickstand on the side of that empty road and killed the engine. I walked out to the tree line that cloaked the river. As soon as I came within ten feet of the black bird, he took off into the sparse trees. He stayed low, guiding me every few feet to a new location in the random path we were on. We didn¡¯t follow straight lines; we jaggedly made our way to a very isolated riverbank of the Mississippi. It didn¡¯t take long before I smelled it. That same smell that stayed in my mind, the one I knew all too well. It was the smell of death.

    I followed the stench, each step pulling me closer to something I already knew would haunt me. It led me to a small patch of shrubs on the water¡¯s edge, half-hidden beneath a tangle of green. I pushed through the branches, my heart thundering, and that¡¯s when I saw him¡ªa little boy lying lifeless among the leaves. The sight hit me like a freight train, stealing the breath from my lungs. He couldn¡¯t have been more than five or six, his small frame swallowed up by the oversized red St. Louis Cardinals shirt and worn blue jean shorts. His black hair, neatly braided into cornrows, told a story of someone who had cared for him, once. Now, he was just here, alone.

    My knees buckled, and I stumbled on the gravel, barely catching myself as I dropped to the ground beside him. I couldn¡¯t process it; couldn¡¯t make sense of this tiny, snuffed-out life lying in front of me. It was like the world around me had collapsed into a muffled hum; every detail burned into my mind with cruel clarity. The way his hand was curled, as if still holding onto something, the stillness that clung to him like a shadow. I felt my throat tighten, a hard, unrelenting knot of grief that I couldn¡¯t swallow.

    I reached out with trembling hands, pulling back the tangled branches that hid him from view. I didn¡¯t touch him¡­ I couldn¡¯t, not yet. But I couldn¡¯t bear to see him covered up, forgotten in the dirt. As I sat there, staring at his small, lifeless body, thoughts of Caydee crashed over me, sharp and unforgiving. What if this had been her? What if Caydee, so full of life, ended up lost and alone like this, her laughter silenced, and her bright eyes closed forever? I pictured Vicky¡¯s face, her agony, and it tore through me like a blade. I could barely stand the image of my daughter, of any child, abandoned to the cold and the dark. The thought of it made my chest feel like it was caving in.

    I felt the weight of the actions that took place to make this happen. It was someone sick¡­ someone I should have stopped. I should have been there to stop this before it ever began. Instead, I was just another person arriving too late for this little boy. The knot in my throat grew tighter, jagged and painful, until I thought it would choke me.

    A crow landed beside me, its harsh caw breaking the suffocating silence. It stared at the boy, its black eyes reflecting the same cold indifference as the world around us, and I felt a sudden, overwhelming rage at how everything could keep moving forward when this small life had been cut short.

    I wanted to scream, to tear the murderer open and demand an answer. But there was only the soft rustle of the river and the boy¡¯s stillness, a reminder that no matter what I did now, it would change nothing.

    It was a good while that I sat out there under the rising moon. I just looked at his face and thought about this innocent boy¡¯s life, his parents, and what he could have been. Everything he could have had or experienced was just ripped away from him. Who could do this to a child?

    I had no words. I just sat in silence.

    Then, I was up, and I was moving. My eyes pulsed to black in the muggy air of the summer night. There was no wind blowing, making the scents settle in place becoming stronger with time. My senses picked up to higher levels as I called upon the parts of the beast that I needed. I stalked around the scene as I looked for clues. My voided eyes examined every surface of every small stone beneath my feet. My nose studied and memorized every scent and trail that I picked up around him. I smelled a faint hint of gunpowder. As my enhanced optics adjusted into the deepest versions of the monster¡¯s eyes, I noticed the almost invisible markings of gunpowder on the back of the boy¡¯s shirt. It would be impossible for the human eye to see it, but I could. There was a single hole in his shirt where a bullet tore through him. As the monster¡¯s eyes examined and memorized every detail, my human side let a few tears drip out and down my face. This little boy¡­ he deserved so much more than this. He deserved everything¡­ the whole world. He was pure and innocent.

    Then, I looked at the crow. It cawed two times, looking straight at me, and then flew away. It disappeared over the trees within seconds, and he was finally gone.

    Somebody shot this little boy in the back. That¡¯s as cold-blooded as you can get. Thinking about his little feet standing where I stood, waiting in the rocks with a gun trained on him set me into a rage like I¡¯ve rarely felt in this monstrous life.

    I felt the shift happening, my body yearning to let him out. The monster in me wanted to rip forth and hunt down this gunman and tear him limb from limb. I stumbled around the area, trying to contain it from getting out. Even though it was already nighttime, I couldn¡¯t just go rampaging through town as the behemoth. I had to be in control. I fought and struggled with the urges to kill. My black talons already slicing their way out of my fingertips. I was bulky and disproportionate in this weird half transformational state I was fighting off.

    ¡°No,¡± I yelled. ¡°I¡¯m in control,¡± I assured myself, but I also said it more like a command for the monster to get back inside of its cage.

    Slowly, the urge eased off, and I fell back into my normal proportionally human form. I breathed easy, long, and slow, as I retraced the area for clues. Then, only moments after regaining control, I caught a scent. It was over by the last tree that grew the closest to the river. Somebody had leaned on it, rubbing their skin against the bark. The oils of their skin had been absorbed into the organic matter and was so faint any other creature was sure to have missed it out there in the wilderness. I stepped up to it, literally touching my nose to the bark, and sucked in the deepest breath I could take. I analyzed and memorized it as the most critical thing in my life at the moment. I¡¯d find them¡­ and I¡¯d kill them.

    This person wasn¡¯t going to face justice. They were going to meet my wrath. I had my lead, but I didn¡¯t know what to do. I knew that this boy¡¯s parents would want to have peace. They¡¯d want to know their child¡¯s ultimate fate, bad or worse. Just knowing that he wasn¡¯t out there somewhere still suffering might give them some sort of peace.

    So, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and made the call. It was only three rings until I heard the familiar voice I had spoken to only a little bit earlier.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Carter answered like he was around other people, pretending it was the first time we¡¯d spoke. He sounded worried, ¡°How are you?¡±

    ¡°Carter¡­¡± I said, trying to find the words. ¡°I need help.¡±

    Everything happened over the phone pretty quickly, but Carter would call his contact inside of the police department and give him the location I described to him over the phone. Detective Ames, the officer that had seen glimpses of the supernatural world, would make sure that the right people found out where the missing boy was. Carter had questions, of course.

    ¡°Sam¡­ are you alright? You sound different?¡± he asked hesitantly, hearing the struggle for control in my voice.

    ¡°No,¡± I answered simply. ¡°I¡¯m going to find the person that did this, and I¡¯m going to kill them. Not the monster¡­ ME!¡± I hung up after that, unable to control myself.

    He tried to speak again, but his voice was cut out as I hung up. I think he wanted to calm me down, but I had to go. I had to find this killer and make them feel fear like this little boy felt. I was going to kill them.

    <hr>

    It had been two whole days of searching. I walked every street and skulked every alley until I found it. The scent I had memorized from the horrific scene had once again touched my senses. It was probably about ten o¡¯clock, and the sky had blackened the city, giving me endless shadows to meld in and out of as I searched for the killer.

    Carter called me multiple times after I had reached out; he had questions. Eleanor called as well after Carter had told her of our conversation. She was worried. They both were. I couldn¡¯t text or call back at all. I was so focused on the search for those two days that I never stepped away from the hunt. I had to find this guy.

    I was standing amongst a few sparse trees in the green expanse of the Gateway Arch National Park. There were only a few souls that lingered past sunset after the monument closed. I looked up at the massive metal arch, remembering something Carter had told me once. Their family company, CWT Construction, had modified the monument with silver many years ago to act as a massive deterrent to supernatural creatures over the years. Nobody knew it, but the city had a massive object that basically set off creatures'' sense of self-preservation. It told them to stay away. They wouldn¡¯t know what it was, but they¡¯d feel weaker near the structure, but I felt fine. In fact, it was right beneath the structure where I found the scent of the killer.

    I actually began to wonder; if the arch wasn¡¯t a deterrent, how many supernatural creatures would be in the city? What were other massive cities like that didn¡¯t have something like the arch, or a family of hunters working day and night to quell the numbers of dark predators? I bet I wouldn¡¯t have an issue finding kills in a place like that, if I stayed long enough.

    I followed the trail from the park through the nightlife of Laclede¡¯s Landing, down sidewalks, through parking garages, and finally to a large coffee shop on the corner of St. Charles and 10th street. The path was winding and incoherent. The scent didn¡¯t seem to be following any kind of agenda. It was a winding walk that seemed to just spread throughout the area like they were searching for something. The fear hit me when I thought that the person was hunting for more children.

    I waited at the top level of the Convention Center Hotel Garage, watching the front door of the coffee place. A storm was approaching. I could smell the rain coming. At about eleven-thirty, I caught the scent of my target on the move. I looked down at the closing doors and saw a man standing in the entry, lighting up a cigarette down on the lightly populated sidewalk. He wore a jacket too heavy for the current weather. It was probably to conceal the weapons I knew he had hidden. He began pacing away from the place as he smoked his cancer stick.

    He looked like something I expected; worn from a harder life, yet unapologetic about his actions or decisions. He seemed like the type that didn¡¯t accept the responsibility of his own actions and wanted to blame someone else for where he was in life. Although, this was my own mind wandering down roads and possibilities that I didn¡¯t know for certain yet. However, I was usually pretty good at figuring people out. He was probably late twenties, early thirties, with haggard brown hair that hadn¡¯t been cut or maintained in a while. It wasn¡¯t long, but uneven and rough enough to know he didn¡¯t take care of himself. The scent rolled off him and onto the night breeze that blew past my face. It was him; I was certain. This was the man that leaned against the tree at the scene of the small boy¡¯s murder.

    I jumped from the parking garage where I watched, to the lower level of the next building. Then, I quickly leaped over the street to the top of the little bistro he passed in his meandering. I was just above his head¡­ death waiting to pluck him from the earth. But¡­ not here. Still too many people.

    It seemed like he was walking the city on this random path. I was ready to make a move as I soon realized he was on the hunt for something. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what he was doing, but I had this feeling like he was looking for more kids. I couldn¡¯t let anyone else¡¯s children become a victim of this piece of shit.

    I followed him well into the night, waiting for the people of the city to go to fucking sleep so I could slaughter his ass in seclusion. Our path came to an end in a street-level parking lot that was dead empty at three in the morning. There literally wasn¡¯t a single car in the parking lot beside the one that this asshole was unlocking. As he scraped around the door searching for the lock, my feet entered the parking lot. It was time.

    I stepped loud and heavy to alert him to my presence. I wanted the fear to crawl up his back in the night that surrounded him. Every placement of my feet was purposefully loud and heavier than usual. I saw his head cock back to see where the noise was originating. He saw a figure behind him a good distance away. He wasn¡¯t too worried, not yet. So, I walked straight to him¡­ slowly. My feet thudded against the pavement as I stepped closer and closer to him. He turned his head again, looking for my position. His hands jingled the keys more frantically, searching for the lock. He was scared, but he didn¡¯t want to look over quickly and overreact¡­ not yet. Plus, he was a tough guy, he couldn¡¯t bitch out in front of anyone. He couldn¡¯t look weak.

    The black bird appeared above him, on top of the tall light that brightened up the area. Its shrill caw agreed with the man I identified as the child¡¯s killer. I stepped right behind him, and he knew I was there. It was a split second before he turned around to my presence.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t find anyone tonight, could you?¡± I asked as he started to shake subtly with fear. ¡°No little kids out late tonight? No one to take, none to kill?¡±

    He spun around quickly and planted a knife right into my left oblique, no warning. The knife seared its way into me with his thrust, sending pain and fire through my nervous system. I looked down at his hands and then back to his face, unmoved.

    ¡°What are you going to do now?¡± I asked.

    I grabbed his skull with one hand and lifted his feet from the ground, slamming his face into his own windshield before throwing him across the parking lot. The windshield spiderwebbed, and then every little crack in the glass was filled with blood. His body slid across the coarse asphalt, ripping his clothes and shredding his skin. He was panicking after the assault, trying to just breathe through the stress that came with it all. The blood coming from his forehead was running into his eyes, causing more panic and fear.

    Lightning crashed in the distance as I slowly stepped towards this fucking monster. It felt like the whole world was going to explode as I taunted and horrified this creep. I could smell his scent. There was no mistaking him. He was the one who had been leaning against the tree the same day that the little boy was killed. I needed no other proof.

    ¡°Wait,¡± he begged from underneath his cowering fear. ¡°Please, don¡¯t kill me!¡±

    I just paced over to him and picked him up by the neck, lifting him above my face.

    ¡°Why? Why should I give you a chance when you didn¡¯t give him one?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± he asked, petrified and bleeding.

    ¡°That little boy,¡± I said. ¡°Down on the river.¡±

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he exclaimed. ¡°How do you know about that?¡± He was stressed to the extreme. ¡°Look, I didn¡¯t want to do that, he made me. The kid¡­ he was chosen. I was just there¡­ I.¡±

    His explanation had me interested. It almost seemed like he meant someone put him up to it. Someone wanted the little boy for a reason. I had to figure it out. If it meant saving other little children like the boy on the river, then I¡¯d do it.

    ¡°Who?¡± I asked plainly.

    ¡°Who?¡± he asked back. ¡°Don¡¯t you realize that if I tell you, he¡¯ll kill me too,¡± the struggling dipshit tried to bargain.

    I reached down and pulled the blade from my stomach. It came out very slow, to show him he had no power to harm or stop me. He knew the knife meant nothing to me.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t tell me who, then I won¡¯t kill you,¡± I told him. Then I explained, ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill¡­ I¡¯m going to maim you¡­ change you¡­ forever. There is going to be a point very early on that you¡¯re going to wish I¡¯d just kill you, but I won¡¯t. I¡¯m going to keep you alive so you can live on after I¡¯m done.¡± I added, ¡°you won¡¯t ever be the same after that. You¡¯re going to pray for death, but it won¡¯t come.¡± My eyes pulsed to the blackest voids possible.

    His eyes were so full of fear that I actually wondered if he would die of a heart attack. His panic was so thick that he actually couldn¡¯t put the words together once he decided to talk. He couldn¡¯t speak quickly enough.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just trafficking anymore,¡± he exclaimed. ¡°They¡¯re not just taking kids. We¡¯re taking anyone we can for them. It¡¯s not like it used to be. The one in control now don¡¯t sell people like we used to. We take more and more by the week, and they all end up dead in a ditch somewhere. He kills them for something¡­ I¡¯m not sure what. He¡¯s¡­ not human.¡± He told me, looking down at my stab wound. ¡°He¡¯s like you.¡±

    ¡°I doubt that,¡± I sincerely told him. ¡°Where?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m just for this side of town,¡± he explained. ¡°There are other people spread out around the city. They find people, the younger the better, and they take them for him.¡±

    ¡°Where do they take them?¡± I closed my fist around his windpipe.

    He struggled under pressure, ¡°Warehouses¡­ around the city.¡± I backed off my grip. He choked out in a cough. ¡°Then, they take them underground somewhere, deep beneath the city. After that, they¡¯re gone. If they show up again after that¡­ it¡¯s only as a body.¡±

    ¡°Why did you shoot that boy?¡± I asked with blackened eyes.

    ¡°He made me do it. He needed me to do it for some reason¡­ I think he got something out of it, but he couldn¡¯t do it directly,¡± he explained.

    ¡°So, you just killed him?¡± my question laced by the inhuman sound of my changing voice. I tightened my grip.

    ¡°I¡­I couldn¡¯t¡­let him go¡­ even if I wanted to¡­¡± my grip was killing him. He couldn¡¯t breathe.

    ¡°Who is it?¡± I asked. ¡°Who wants the kids?¡± I had many more questions.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know a name. If I did, I¡¯d tell you. I swear,¡± he choked out. ¡°But I do know he has powers. He can do things¡­ things that¡­ you wouldn¡¯t believe.¡±

    A lot had been revealed to me in the short expanse of time, but the main goal had been sorted. I found the killer, and I even figured out why he did it. I eased off of my grip, setting the bloodied man down to his feet. He stumbled and slumped over on the hood of his car. He coughed and choked the blood out of his throat, realizing that he was alive and would see another day. He was wrong. I just wanted this cold-blooded killer to feel hope before I ripped it away. This wasn¡¯t mercy¡­ this was vengeance for the little boy. I was here to balance the scales.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said as he fumbled towards the door of his car.

    ¡°No,¡± I said, ¡°thank you.¡±

    Then, a wave of wrath overflowed from me. My questions didn¡¯t matter as much as the vengeance that was demanded for the little boy. I tore into him with the knife he had stabbed me with. I put that thing into his chest repeatedly. Then I stuck it into the top of his skull, slumping him to his knees. He made a sound on the second stab, but then he fell silent as I continued my assault. I¡¯m not sure at what point he died¡­ I was lost in fury.

    He wasn¡¯t moving¡­ he was dead. The crow flapped from the top of the light and landed on top of the man¡¯s fresh corpse. It cried out in the night only once, and then vanished into the black sky. The sound of the crow¡¯s wings was in my ears longer than I could see it. Its presence was strange and otherworldly. It was like it had thoughts¡­ guiding me somehow. Or something else was guiding it. Was it the Entity?

    The monster took in a deep breath and almost let out a sigh from within the walls of my human frame. The satisfaction from the kill was legendary compared to the previous kills in my life. This hunt felt different too. Righting this wrong, balancing this scale after it had been tilted by such a vain and inhuman act felt indescribable.

    Lightning roared overhead, cracking, and arcing across the night sky of St. Louis. I felt all of the needs subside from my immediate mind, and I was okay again. It felt as if the world around me was as charged as I was on the inside. The thunderous crashes of power in the sky mirrored the rage and dominating power I let out in a short glimpse to the world.

    I left the corpse leaning against his car for the authorities to find. Once found, word would eventually spread of the brutal killing of this man. I left him as a warning to whoever he spoke about. I wanted the fear to build. They¡¯d wonder who got to one of their guys. It would grow until I found them. Whoever it was, whoever ¡°he¡± was would meet his end by me, powers or not.

    I wandered the streets of the early morning, searching for where I had left my motorcycle, so I could go home. I needed to shower, and clean the blood off me. More so, I wanted to escape the world for a while.

    After seeing the little boy lying there the way he was¡­ I couldn¡¯t think clearly; not after finally completing this hunt. I wanted to see the Chasses again¡­ I wanted Autumn to be there this time. I wished I could have them right in that moment so I could talk to someone about what I saw. The image of that boy¡¯s body was hard to shake. But I didn¡¯t have them back yet¡­ not fully. I still didn¡¯t know how right it was. Until then, I¡¯d head back, clean up, and escape to the unconscious realm. I could find peace in sleep¡­ I hoped.

 Chapter 39 - Strained Return (Carter)

    The boy¡¯s name was Calvin. Detective Ames told me who he was after they discovered the body. Without Sam, Calvin probably would have never been found. I did some research the next day on missing kids in St. Louis. Calvin had been missing for six days, and his parents had been searching the city fiercely. They had been scared that he was another victim of the human trafficking that had been on the rise in the past months. Calvin¡¯s parents had now been notified that their son was found, and their searching could end. Their world fell apart in a single trip to answer the door. Their hope was crushed. Calvin was at rest, and their question had been answered; but that would never make it any better.

    The police scanned the area for clues, but they didn¡¯t find much. It didn¡¯t look good, but they still started the investigation into his death. Even with the evidence they had uncovered, they¡¯d never find the killer. I knew that it had done something to Sam, seeing Calvin like that. He wouldn¡¯t stay on the phone long enough for me to calm him down. It was like he was just passing the information and continuing with whatever he planned to do about it. I worried about him¡­ and what he was going to do. He sounded shaky and uncertain. I had never heard him like that.

    Eleanor and I hadn¡¯t told anyone about our meeting with Sam, not even Autumn. Especially not Autumn. At first, we convinced ourselves it was for the best, that it wasn¡¯t the right time to say anything. When we saw him, we told Sam we¡¯d work things out and then call him, but after we started talking on the drive home, things changed slightly. We didn¡¯t want to rush into this; didn¡¯t want to stir up the past. Clara and Wayland specifically were very apprehensive about having Sam back around the family. They worried for their daughter, Delilah, obviously. But once Sam found Calvin, things changed. We had to fill the rest of the family in¡­ at least partially. We explained how we¡¯d spoken with Sam over the phone, then how we helped Detective Ames track down the missing boy. We left out the deeper truths, and the visit to see Sam in person. We definitely withheld how much Sam had told us, and how much more we now knew about him. We kept Autumn out of these conversations.

    Telling Autumn about any of it felt impossible. We didn¡¯t know how she¡¯d handle it, and that uncertainty gnawed at us. It was more than just shielding her; it was this constant, heavy feeling that we were trying to hold together something fragile. We couldn¡¯t bring ourselves to open that door again, not after everything. She had been so close to him once, closer than we were comfortable with, now that we knew what we knew. It scared us to think of her drifting back into his orbit like that again.

    The truth was, we were caught in the middle, stuck between what we knew and what we feared. There was a bond with Sam that we couldn¡¯t ignore. Eleanor felt it even more deeply than I did. He wasn¡¯t just some monster lurking in the shadows¡­ he was real, he was human, his actions proved that. We knew he¡¯d never willingly hurt us. But Autumn was still our daughter, our only daughter; and Sam was¡­ he was darkness¡­ destruction; death incarnate.

    Fortunately, Autumn was busy with Kayla and Patrick, wrapped up in things that kept her far from the edges of Sam¡¯s presence. It was easier to delay, to keep pushing the truth further out of reach, hoping that time would make it less painful to tell. As long as she stayed preoccupied, we could keep this secret a little longer. A few more days, a few more chances to figure out how to say it without breaking everything apart. She knew he was around and was in the loop with everyone else up to this point¡­ but we kept it that way.

    The family had arrived sporadically throughout the late afternoon. The temperature had dropped a little in the last few days and there was a good breezing passing by, so we decided to have a small fire out back and cook some burgers for everyone. El and I wanted to try and butter everyone up before we attempted to tell them what we did. We wouldn¡¯t spill all the truth he had given us, but we wanted to start the conversation. I worried how Arthur and Zeke would take it. They didn¡¯t speak much about Sam, just listening to the stories we told them. His presence around the family might create complications.

    Allen and Eloise were the last two to arrive. They were connected at all times, never leaving each other¡¯s sides. They calmed eventually after they told us the truth about meeting Sam, even though they didn¡¯t know who he was. I think they thought he disappeared after saving all our lives at the cave.

    ¡°How did he sound, Carter? Do you think he¡¯s okay?¡± Frank asked as he sipped his beer on the back patio.

    ¡°He sounded¡­ stressed. He was okay, but he was frantic,¡± I said, opening the grill. ¡°He wanted to make sure the boy was found, but he knew he couldn¡¯t call it in. I tried to talk to him, but he hung up too fast.¡±

    Frank shook his head, ¡°That poor boy. Who could do that?¡±

    ¡°It makes me sick,¡± Clara was emotional. Seeing the boy¡¯s picture and family on the news was gut-wrenching for her. It made her scared for Delilah, worried that she¡¯d be taken at any minute. Wayland kept his arm around my sister as we spoke, supporting her while maintaining his own composure.

    ¡°I just wish we knew where he was,¡± Frank sighed, thinking of Sam. ¡°He¡¯s been alone too long, and he¡¯s still out there by himself, seeing things like this¡­¡±

    ¡°Are we going to tell Autumn?¡± Clara asked as she wiped her eye.

    ¡°When the time is right,¡± I answered. ¡°She seems like she¡¯s in a good place right now. She¡¯s seemed happy the last few months, I don¡¯t want to bring her down with this, especially with how hard she took everything with Sam before.¡±

    They all nodded, agreeing with my thoughts.

    ¡°However,¡± I prepared myself, ¡°there is something that Eleanor and I want to speak with you all about.¡±

    Frank, Wayland, Clara, Arthur, Zeke, Allen, and Eloise all looked up to us. They could tell something was unusual. I think Eloise could only tell something was amiss due to everyone else¡¯s body language. They all knew something was up, and it showed.

    ¡°This wasn¡¯t the first time we¡¯ve spoken with Sam,¡± Eleanor chimed in.

    Wayland cocked his head up quickly from the patio table, ¡°What? What do you mean?¡±

    El and I both glanced at each other quickly, nodding in assurance. We knew we had to tell them.

    ¡°The other day we,¡± my words were cut off at the sound of people coming out of the back door of the house. My heart jumped in my chest as I recognized the voices.

    Autumn, Kayla, and Patrick stepped out of the back door onto the patio. They had six packs of different drinks for what looked like a night of drinking.

    They all looked up at the gathered crowd of family. It was an obvious awkward moment, the two groups having separate secret agendas. Patrick seemed unassuming, but Autumn quickly realized something was going on. Kayla joined her dad and uncle, never picking up that something was wrong. She looked like it was just a happy accident.

    ¡°Hey,¡± my daughter greeted cheerfully. ¡°What¡¯s everyone doing here?¡±

    No one answered her, they all just looked back to Eleanor and I. Autumn¡¯s gaze followed everyone¡¯s to me. I could tell she was connecting dots in her mind. She didn¡¯t know anything specific, but she realized she was being kept out of the loop on something.

    ¡°Why¡¯s everyone here? I never got a call?¡± she asked, the edge in her voice sharpening.

    ¡°Apparently, Sam reached out about a body he found on the river. It was a little kid. He called it in to Carter, so he¡¯d be found,¡± Frank explained gracefully.

    ¡°Sam called?¡± Autumn asked quickly. ¡°When?¡± she demanded.

    Patrick seemed shocked by her quick reaction to the news. He didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be this moved by the information. Even Kayla looked stunned.

    ¡°Yeah, but your parents were just explaining that this wasn¡¯t the first time they¡¯ve spoken with him?¡± Wayland turned the attention back to me. He wanted to hear what we hadn¡¯t told them yet.

    ¡°Mom¡­ Dad, what¡¯s going on?¡± Autumn asked, her anger gaining momentum.

    Patrick just stood there beside her, waiting to hear the news. As far as the Wicklows were concerned, Sam was gone. But how much they really knew, I wasn¡¯t sure. They had their ways, and they might be just as up to speed as I was. Patrick seemed unaware, however. I didn¡¯t need to assume; I knew that Patrick would not like the idea of Sam being back around us. Sam and Autumn¡¯s past relationship was a threat to him. I didn¡¯t want that for my daughter, but I knew as soon as Sam came back around, things would get complicated. Sam and Autumn really seemed to connect in ways she didn¡¯t with other guys, even though he was¡­ something not totally human anymore.

    ¡°We did speak with Sam the other day¡­ for a while,¡± Eleanor offered to everyone in the back yard. ¡°After the hunt at Cliff Cave, and what Allen told us about France, Carter and I decided it was time to find him.¡± Then Eleanor looked at me.

    Keeping secrets within the family was not something we took lightly, and I was about to admit it to everyone. Things were going to get intense.

    I had to tell the truth, ¡°I already knew where he would probably be if he was still in town. I knew where he was before he disappeared from Martin¡¯s bar, but I didn¡¯t tell anyone.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Clara snapped. ¡°What do you mean? How?¡±

    ¡°Martin came to me shortly after that night Sam left here in a rage. He told me he was going to his bar a lot. Martin gave him a place to stay, that old safehouse we built for him a while back.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where Sam has been this whole time?¡± Frank was honestly shocked.

    ¡°No, he hasn¡¯t been there the whole time. He only recently came back,¡± Eleanor pointed to Allen, ¡°After Allen called him, he rushed back to St. Louis to help us¡­ if we needed it.¡±

    ¡°WHY DIDN¡¯T YOU TELL US?¡± Clara roared. ¡°We could have helped you, or at least watched your backs. I cannot believe either of you would risk yourselves to go talk to him without warning any of us,¡± Clara was angry. She felt betrayed by her own family. She was standing, pacing around the grass surrounding the patio.

    Clara and Wayland were very wary of the idea of Sam¡¯s return. They both worried for Delilah more than anything, Wayland probably more than Clara. However, Clara did not like being lied to, especially by family.

    Allen spoke up for the first time, ¡°Mom¡­ Dad¡± my son looked to me. ¡°He¡¯s dangerous. You can¡¯t put yourselves around him¡­¡± he remembered the vague flashes of the short glimpse he saw of our ominous friend. He worried for us.

    ¡°I know you are all going to be upset with us for not telling you, but we cannot just act like he doesn¡¯t exist,¡± Eleanor said, taking over the conversation. She spoke with conviction, begging someone to challenge her words. ¡°Look around at the people sitting in this patio. How many of us would be dead right now if it wasn¡¯t for Sam?¡± Eleanor¡¯s eyes burned with conviction. ¡°I know I¡¯d be¡­ Autumn too.¡±

    Autumn stood there rigid as we spoke. Her eyes looked like they were getting glassy, mostly from the anger of us keeping something from her, but now her mother¡¯s words were hitting her. She clenched her jaw as everyone spoke.

    ¡°The chimera, and that witch would have killed us all if it wasn¡¯t for Sam. So now, tell me, what has he done to us that should make us turn away from him now?¡± El stopped talking, making everyone sit in silence and actually think about what she was saying.

    No one said anything, they all started analyzing her words and weighing them.

    ¡°I for one cannot ignore what he¡¯s done. The only reason I can even stand in front of you all like this is because he traded his own life for mine. I have his life inside of me¡­ I should be dead. He should be human again, back with his own family¡­ but he¡¯s not. He gave up everything for me¡­ for this family and his own,¡± El started crying through her words, but she kept going. ¡°Allen, and Eloise, are here only because of Sam. None of us ever had a clue that Allen was alive. Sam went on his own without any of our knowledge and brought him back to us. It is because of what Sam is, that he was able to do that. He took on an entire pack of werewolves to get us our son back¡­¡±

    Eleanor was too worked up to continue. She was steaming. She got up and knocked her chair over as she stood up. She paced out into the backyard, putting some distance between everyone. Honestly her reaction and burst of input took even me by surprise.

    A minute later, Frank asked, ¡°Can you tell us everything? I want to be up to speed on everything you guys know if he is going to be coming back around.¡± Frank spoke softly, ready to move forward.

    Autumn spun on her heels quickly, not saying a word to anyone else. She left us all in the backyard and slammed the door behind her. Patrick didn¡¯t know how to react to that, let alone everything else that was going on. He looked overwhelmed, and slightly angry. Only a few seconds passed before he followed Autumn inside.

    Autumn had a lot more going on inside of her than anyone else realized. I knew she still felt something for Sam, and my decision to keep her in the dark was not something she appreciated. I knew she¡¯d be okay with time, but I¡¯d let her be mad at me for now. I knew my daughter, and she¡¯d be fighting with herself over what she felt now that Sam might be around again. Not to mention she had been spending more time with Patrick again. The complications for her were stacking up.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said to Frank, my voice heavy with resignation. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what happened.¡± I glanced over at Eleanor, who was pacing, her movements restless, almost frantic. When she finally turned to face me, her eyes were tired, worn down by the backlash of emotions from telling a glimpse of the truth we¡¯d tried to hide.

    ¡°Everything,¡± she said, her tone clipped but resolute. Those few words were all I needed to hear. All the apprehension, the careful planning, the fear of what might happen if we told the truth; it all fell away in that moment. We couldn¡¯t keep lying to our family anymore. I had tried so hard to protect them, to protect Autumn. The looks on everyone¡¯s faces, the frustration, the mistrust¡­ it was proof that the secrets were ultimately a bad idea in the long term. We couldn¡¯t keep going like this.

    So, Eleanor and I told them. We laid it all out, every detail of what Sam had shared with us, every piece we¡¯d kept hidden for the little bit of time we carried it. There was no more room for half-truths or omissions. The time for hiding was over.

    <hr>

    The following day, I received a call that had my elusive friend''s name assigned on the screen. ¡°Sam,¡± I answered while sitting at my office desk.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Sam responded. ¡°Thanks for the help.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sam. You gave that family a little bit of peace when you found their son,¡± I told him.

    ¡°I hope so,¡± he brooded. ¡°I wish I could have saved him¡­¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t be everywhere at once, Sam. It¡¯s not your fault. You helped in this terrible situation, and now the police have a place to start,¡± I assured. ¡°Detective Ames told me they found some evidence out near the body that they were looking into. They¡¯ll find who did it.¡±

    ¡°I doubt that.¡± Sam said subtly. ¡°Listen, I need to talk with you all. I learned something that you guys need to know.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked curiously.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather tell you in person. Would it be alright if we met?¡± he inquired.

    ¡°Um,¡± I thought. ¡°That might be a little difficult right now. Our family is still staying with us, and they just became fully aware of your presence around us again. I¡¯m not sure how they¡¯ll take you right in front of their eyes. But,¡± I thought out load, ¡°I¡¯ll talk with everyone and make sure they are okay with it before I have you show up and scare the shit out of them.¡± I snickered to myself at the thought. ¡°Would you be willing to meet some of our cousins?¡±

    ¡°I can do that,¡± he assured calmly. ¡°Plus, I was hoping to see Frank again. If that¡¯s okay,¡± he added.

    ¡°Yeah, I think he¡¯d like that,¡± I told him. I wanted to see him too. ¡°We had a sit down with everyone yesterday and told them about our meeting. IT was rough¡­ but everyone is in the loop.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ you did?¡± Sam asked. I think he was curious how everyone took it. I suspected he wanted to know how Autumn responded. I couldn¡¯t tell him that since it wasn¡¯t a great reaction, and she actually left before we got to the good stuff.

    ¡°It was¡­ hard. They were pretty upset that I had been keeping things from them, but we talked for quite a while about everything. I think having you over would be a good¡­ next step. Some of them might be pretty cautious around you at first but¡­ give it time.¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Sam was silent, not responding.

    ¡°Let me see if I can work something out for tonight,¡± I said knowing our cousins would be there at some point. ¡°We¡¯ll make dinner and introduce you to the family. Then you can tell us all what you¡¯ve found. Just remember,¡± I reminded, ¡°we¡¯ll have to ease our cousins into everything. I¡¯ll guide the conversation, you just have to act as normal as you can, okay?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Sam actually laughed.

    ¡°Just, as human as possible. I feel bad saying that to you, but they know you¡¯re something¡­ other than human. I just don¡¯t want them to get spooked. Our family is very important to us, and we want them to see you like we do. It will just take time.¡±

    ¡°I can do that,¡± he assured.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let everyone else know, so they¡¯re all on the same page. I apologize for having to ask that of you, but our relatives might not understand everything right up front. We can hit them with the truth as we go; ease them into everything. We can¡¯t have them telling others in our family that might not be as understanding,¡± I explained. ¡°They might not feel comfortable with a creature like you around if we hit them with everything all at once. They don¡¯t even really know how involved Martin is with our family.¡±

    Sam agreed to everything, and it was set. This would be the first real meeting with Sam, and our whole family. Part of me was a little nervous. I wanted things to go well. I really did, but I worried about how Clara and Wayland would react¡­ if they even came. I also worried that if someone had a bad reaction, Sam might not take it well. I began to worry.

    I told Autumn and Eleanor first, trying to regain the little bit of trust that might have been tarnished before. I didn¡¯t want to keep anything from my two most important women. However, I did worry about how Autumn would react. Yet, when I told her she seemed¡­ quiet. She had no reaction initially. She actually went upstairs to her room and shut the door for a while. Eleanor and I worried about her, but then she came out a little over an hour later. She had changed clothes, gotten ready and actually seemed in a better mood. She was still amiable, but something in her face seemed distant. I think she really wanted to see Sam, but she had complications. I think she still felt many things for Sam, but she couldn¡¯t admit that out load to everyone. I was still unsure what all she had, currently, with Patrick.

    I worried about how Autumn would take Sam¡¯s return in the long term. She hung around with Patrick, even going out on double dates with him, Kayla, and some guy Kayla had met while in town. A part of me thought she was stringing him along. I think she was looking for an escape from what she was feeling in the beginning after Sam left. I didn¡¯t want Sam¡¯s return to throw her back into the spiral she seemed to be caught in the first few months. She was subtly acting out in her own ways, going out to bars with friends all the time, leading Patrick along, for better or worse, and she just had this look sometimes¡­ It worried me. I hoped this wouldn¡¯t make things worse.

    Sam was a strong-willed character. He did things, made sacrifices that changed his entire world to help us, and protect others. Behind that terrifyingly unstoppable beast, he was a good person. I wanted to know more about him and what he indeed was. Maybe then I wouldn¡¯t have so many fears for my daughter.

    As early evening approached, most of the family had made their way over to meet with Sam. We all talked as we waited, and everyone had their own opinions about the situation.

    ¡°If he¡¯s going to be here, then Delilah won¡¯t be,¡± Wayland explained.

    ¡°Wayland, you know what he did for El and Allen. He¡¯s not here to hurt any of us,¡± Frank tried to ease Wayland down out of the fear for his daughter.

    ¡°Look, if we want to have him around, that¡¯s fine, but I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever be comfortable with Delilah being around him. If he¡¯s going to be around, then we¡¯ll just make arrangements with my parents,¡± Wayland said, ending the matter.

    Clara didn¡¯t argue, she just sat in silence. She knew that her husband just wanted to protect their daughter. She wanted to protect Delilah as well, but I think deep down she was starting to realize that Sam was doing things to protect us. She knew Delilah would be safe around him just as much as she would be with Jane. She just let Wayland have this one, knowing he¡¯d eventually relax his stance on Sam.

    ¡°When¡¯s he going to be here?¡± Allen asked.

    Eloise sat next to him on the sofa, looking just as nervous in the eyes as Allen did.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be here soon. I told him to get here before dinner so we could iron out any more details if needed, before everyone else shows up,¡± I told Allen. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, son. Sam¡¯s one of us¡­ I promise. Think of him like Martin.¡±

    ¡°I get it, Dad, I really do, but you didn¡¯t see what we saw.¡± More flashes of their memories had returned from the time since Sam had slaughtered their pack, and it terrified them even more. ¡°The way he moved and killed the werewolves we knew over there¡­ he was different. And,¡± he added, ¡°silver won¡¯t hurt him. We have no way to stop him if we wanted to. Why would we put ourselves in that position if we don¡¯t have to?¡±

    El chimed in, ¡°Allen¡­ it¡¯s okay.¡± She didn¡¯t say anything else. She just assured him everything would work out.

    We had all made our way out to the back patio, looking towards the woods as the time came. Out in the tree line I saw a few stray birds swooping in and out of trees. They flapped happily as they would on any day, circling overhead. They floated about the highest point of the trees in this specific area.

    Eleanor and I sat in the chairs closest to the edge of the covered area. We were looking out to the woods expectantly. Eleanor wanted to see him badly. She wanted to check on him. She knew that no words could ever repay what he did, but she knew she had to make sure he was take care of.

    Then, after about ten minutes of waiting, the birds that flapped along the edge of the trees scattered into the wind. They bolted like there was something dangerous near them, scaring them away.

    ¡°Dad,¡± Allen said, ¡°he¡¯s here.¡± He heard Sam stepping through the last few feet of trees with his supernaturally enhanced hearing that came with the curse of the werewolf.

    Eloise gripped Allen¡¯s arm tightly as they sat together in a large patio chair. They both looked in fear towards the woods, awaiting the unknown. Allen placed his hand over hers, trying to calm her. They both looked more worried than the rest of us. I wished I could have seen what they saw. Sam was still such a mystery. Eloise had a fear in her eyes that I couldn¡¯t describe.

    Then, a figure walked out of the trees, revealing himself to us. Sam came out of the woods with his hood up over his head, pacing across the grass in a steady stride.

    Eleanor got up almost immediately after seeing him. She ambled to him, and I followed. Autumn looked hesitant as we walked out to meet him, then stepping out behind me as I passed. She looked like she was nervous to talk to him for the first time.

    ¡°Autumn¡­¡± Allen was shocked at his sister. ¡°You need to be careful. You don¡¯t know what he can do.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Allen¡­¡± Autumn tried to assure him. She didn¡¯t fear what Sam could do.

    I actually partly agreed with Allen. I thought Autumn should stay back, but I didn¡¯t want to make things more stressful for anyone in this already high-tension moment. The rest of our family stayed back and waited under the covered patio, sitting randomly at the table and chairs. This was their first-time seeing Sam after everything, and they all had a lot of questions about what happened, and what he was.

    Sam and Eleanor¡¯s steps slowed as they reached one another. Autumn and I were only a few steps behind them as they met.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Eleanor spoke out to him as they met. She closed the distance to him and wrapped her arms around his sizeable, hooded frame. Sam gently hugged my wife, slowly patting the back of her shoulder blades.

    Autumn and I stepped right up to them, watching and waiting as Eleanor kept him trapped in a tight embrace; she wasn¡¯t letting go. She had wanted to see him so badly since the other day when we talked for all those hours.

    ¡°It¡¯s so good to see you again Sam,¡± Eleanor said. ¡°How are you doing after everything¡­ with the boy, Calvin?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± Sam assured her, using his free hand to lower his hood.

    I could see a smile slowly working its way up the corners of his mouth as Eleanor wouldn¡¯t let him go. He looked up to me, through his hood, and nodded thankfully. He was happy to be back with us. I could see Autumn¡¯s emotion begin to surface as she witnessed her mother¡¯s reaction to Sam.

    Eleanor pulled away from him long enough for me to step in. I reached in and pulled Sam to me. He was hard to move, but I reeled him in for a tight squeeze. I tried to keep my own emotions in check in front of my immediate family. Everything we spoke about the other day weighing on my mind heavily. How much loss and pain he had to endure¡­ it was hard looking at him, knowing everything he told us.

    ¡°Thanks for coming, Sam.¡± I pulled back, patting Sam¡¯s rock-solid shoulder. I planned to talk more with Sam when it was just the two of us. ¡°Everyone¡¯s here and ready to talk.¡±

    When I stepped back, surprisingly, Autumn stepped up quietly.

    Autumn and Sam just looked at each other for a moment. Neither of them said a word, they both just offered a welcoming smile. I think they both had things they wanted to say, but neither were sure if they should.

    Autumn went in for a hug suddenly without saying anything to him. Sam wrapped one of his arms around her, not wanting to worry me. I saw him shoot a glance my way as my daughter touched him for the first time since that night in our back yard, when he first returned to us after saving Eleanor. I knew he didn¡¯t want me to worry that he¡¯d hurt her. I knew he wouldn¡¯t purposefully, but accidents never happen intentionally. I was still worried about Autumn with him, however thankful I was.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you came,¡± was all Autumn said.

    ¡°Me too¡­¡± he tried to find words.

    Autumn nodded in understanding, letting him know he didn¡¯t need to explain. They separated themselves quickly. We all three looked to Sam and then back to everyone under the patio.

    Eleanor asked, ¡°Are you ready to see everyone again?¡±

    Sam nodded, ¡°You think it¡¯s a good idea?¡±

    ¡°They want to see you, but it may take time for some of them. Allen and Eloise were the most¡­ fearful,¡± I told him.

    He just nodded, ¡°Makes sense. I wasn¡¯t very informative with them.¡±

    We walked through the grass expanse between the trees and our home. As we approached, I noticed Frank already had a drink in his hand. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was the stress of everything, or if he was just celebrating.

    As soon as we made our way under the large patio canopy, Frank had already made his way over.

    ¡°Sam,¡± he said, pulling him in for a joyful hug, slapping his back like he always did. ¡°Where¡¯ve you been?¡±

    Sam just smiled, ¡°Around¡­¡±

    I saw Allen and Eloise eyes bug out a little at Frank¡¯s quick action.

    Clara was next in line behind Frank. She took her turn, carefully giving him a welcoming hug. I saw Wayland tense up right behind her, worried for his wife. ¡°Thank you for everything you did for Eleanor, I hope one day we can repay you.¡± I was surprised at my sister¡¯s words. They were a big leap from the other day.

    ¡°It¡¯s just nice to be back,¡± Sam said.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we sit down,¡± I suggested. ¡°We have a lot to talk about.¡±

    Eleanor pushed Sam down into a chair, not taking no for an answer. He let her win, sitting in place between her and I. Autumn sat just beside El as we readied to speak at length about whatever it was that brought Sam back to us. Her eyes rarely left Sam as he sat with us.

    Allen and Eloise stayed in the large padded chair just a few feet from the outdoor table. They saw how much we trusted Sam and heard the stories of what he did for us. They knew what he had done for them, personally, however, they couldn¡¯t un-see whatever they witnessed. They still feared our friend, but they were willing to give him a chance.

    ¡°Before we start,¡± Wayland interjected, ¡°how did you find that little boy out there on the river?¡±

    We were all thinking the same thing, but we didn¡¯t want to push him yet. I tried to hold back their questions at first, but Sam actually took it well.

    ¡°It¡¯s actually kind of¡­ strange. I don¡¯t fully understand it, really,¡± he said as he stared into the table, thinking deeply about it.

    ¡°Only if you want to tell us, Sam,¡± Eleanor insisted, placing her hand on his arm.

    He nodded, taking a breath as he prepared to share his story.

    ¡°It was the other day, after you guys left,¡± he motioned to El and I. ¡°I had just come back outside of my house, well, Martin¡¯s safehouse. There were crows¡­ everywhere. They were swarming the place. When I stepped out, they all scattered, except for one.¡±

    ¡°There were crows that night at the cave too,¡± Autumn mentioned.

    ¡°That¡¯s right¡­ I remember that. Right before you showed up, Sam, there was a bunch of them above us¡­ it was weird,¡± I remembered.

    ¡°This might sound weird too, but I followed one. I felt like it was staying with me, trying to get my attention. It was leading me somewhere. I followed it all the way to the boy¡­ Calvin.¡±

    Sam¡¯s jaw clenched as he said his name. He was still visibly moved by what he saw that day. He looked like he was clenching down so hard his teeth would crack.

    Eleanor reached up in a smooth rush and patted his hand.

    ¡°That¡¯s when you called Carter?¡± Wayland pieced together.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sam looked to him as he answered.

    ¡°Crows¡­¡± Frank thought out loud. ¡°That¡¯s fuckin¡¯ weird. You said there were a lot of them at your place too?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like a couple hundred. They were surrounding the house¡­ or me, maybe.¡±

    ¡°The ones we saw at the cave were like a swarm, just cawing above us,¡± Clara added.

    ¡°Do you think it has anything to do with¡­ him?¡± Eleanor asked of that thing from that other place.

    ¡°No,¡± Sam quickly responded. ¡°This was something different. It wasn¡¯t like what I feel when he¡¯s around, that¡¯s why it was so confusing. I don¡¯t know how those birds were doing it, or why they came to me,¡± he said.

    ¡°Crows are messengers of the dead,¡± Allen spoke out suddenly.

    There was a pause as everyone looked to Allen.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Autumn spoke after the quick silence between us all.

    Allen explained, ¡°That¡¯s just what I learned over there with the pack. Darry, our packs alpha, always said that they couldn¡¯t leave too many bodies of people they killed. He always said that the crows would see. I always thought it was just some old superstition he¡¯d mention as a joke, but maybe it was more. One time, I heard him talking around the campfire about it,¡± Allen said.

    Eloise nodded, ¡°He did speak of that often, almost like he was afraid of what would happen.¡±

    Allen continued, ¡°Some elders in our pack would say, crows are messengers of the dead. Crows eat carrion, dead flesh of animals. If they come across a body of someone that was killed in cold blood, they won¡¯t eat them, but they¡¯ll carry their message. I thought it was just superstition, I never actually believed him¡­ but¡­¡± Allen looked up to Sam. ¡°If it¡¯s true¡­ why would they come to you?¡±

    Sam looked troubled and deep in thought as he stared into the patio table. I could tell he was really thinking about what this meant. He was just as curious as the rest of us, if not more so. He really didn¡¯t have the answers to a lot of his own questions.

    ¡°I just hope they find whoever did it,¡± Clara spoke out.

    Sam cut his eyes up from the table slowly, a little coldness in them, ¡°They already did.¡±

    I was scared to ask, but I had to, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    He was silent for a moment with a hard and relentless look in his eyes, ¡°I already found him.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯d you do?¡± Autumn asked, fearful at the answer she knew was coming.

    Sam didn¡¯t look at her, he didn¡¯t look at anyone as he spoke. He looked into himself, at the memories of the act, ¡°I killed him in a parking lot.¡±

    Nobody said anything for a minute or so. I could feel the tension in the patio. Allen and Eloise went rigid at his admittance. They knew what he could do to us all at a moment¡¯s notice if he wanted to. We all did.

    Wayland spoke first, and what he said shocked me.

    ¡°Whoever killed that little boy¡­ was a monster. You hunted another monster, just like we do. If I had the chance¡­¡± Wayland trailed off at his own internal admittance, shaking his head at the thought. ¡°I can¡¯t fault you for what I might have done myself, if given the opportunity.¡±

    Clara leaned over and patted her husband¡¯s chest, and whispered ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it, sweetie.¡±

    The tension was cut immediately. Everyone looked like they could breathe again.

    ¡°That was last night,¡± Sam admitted. ¡°Before I killed him,¡± I saw Autumn almost flinch at his words, ¡°he told me something that worried me. I knew I had to tell you guys.¡±

    ¡°What is it, Sam?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He was tied in with more of the human trafficking within the city. He said that they weren¡¯t kidnapping people and selling them off. He said that when they take someone now, they normally end up ¡®dead in a ditch.¡¯ Those were his words. He said that someone is in control now, and they¡¯re like me. Supernatural¡­ I think he meant. But he said they had powers; that they could do things I wouldn¡¯t believe.¡± He explained, ¡°He said that after he stabbed me and realized I wasn¡¯t normal. I think somewhere in the city, somebody is taking kids for some kind of ritual or something. Calvin was a part of it. That¡¯s why he killed him.¡± Sam shook his head, ¡°The guy told me that the one who wanted Calvin, couldn¡¯t kill the boy himself. He had to have the guy do it, but he still got something from his death¡­¡±

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Frank said what we were all thinking.

    The thought scared and shook me to my core. All of the people¡¯s faces that were shown across the news for the last few months could possibly have been abducted to become food for someone or something. We had never faced anything like this before. It almost seemed¡­ organized.

    ¡°But you killed others before,¡± Frank remembered when Sam had saved that van full of missing kids. Three men died that night. ¡°How many more could there be?¡±

    ¡°He said he was just for that side of town. There are others,¡± Sam knew it to be true. He looked worried about it. ¡°Have you ever faced humans that have done the bidding of monsters?¡±

    We all looked around to each other, remembering past scenarios that we tried to keep hidden from the world.

    I took the lead, ¡°There have been times when we¡¯ve come into contact with a person, or people that align themselves with vampires. They want that power, and they¡¯ll do anything to get it. When someone knows that much about the supernatural world and knows the things that they could have¡­ they won¡¯t stop. We¡¯ve had to put an end to that before¡­¡± I told him. None of us were proud of it, but it had to be done. ¡°Those are some of the darkest times in our family''s hunting history. In our generation, at least.¡±

    ¡°We might need to talk with Annabelle about this,¡± Clara spoke.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Frank said.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Wayland also spoke.

    Eleanor and I looked to each other, nodding in concurrence.

    ¡°Everyone else will be here soon,¡± Eleanor warned as she looked at the time on her phone.

    ¡°Wait a minute¡­ that place we built down Allenton Road?¡± Frank asked. ¡°You¡¯ve been staying there this whole time?¡± It finally clicked in Frank''s mind about where Sam had been staying after he left that old factory behind.

    Sam actually smiled, thankful for the break from the serious talk. ¡°Martin let me borrow it for the time being, and yeah, that¡¯s where I¡¯ve been, some of the time. I¡¯ve had to come and go a few times. But I¡¯ve been on the road for a while,¡± he cut his eyes over to Allen and Eloise.

    Eloise was a generally gentle girl in her human form. She was very quiet ever since she had come back with our son. She was very unique compared to the rest of us. We were all light featured and as American as they come. But she was French, very dark-featured, and had an outlook on the world that was more grim and damaged than most I had met in this life. It was because of what had happened to her and her family. I could tell that she cared very deeply for Allen and would stick with us as long as Allen wanted her around. From what I could say about Allen, he wanted her to stay by his side no matter what. Whatever happened to them in that pack had bound the two together by something far greater and more powerful than just a physical attraction. She didn¡¯t speak up about much, letting Allen talk for her most times, but she cut in.

    ¡°Sam,¡± her accent weighed heavily on her words as she spoke our foreign language. ¡°Thank you¡­ for setting us free¡­¡± she looked like her words would bounce back and destroy her. Even though she saw how we all treated Sam, she still feared him. They both did.

    ¡°Yeah, thank you¡­¡± Allen reverberated the gratefulness, yet held the caution about his distanced stance.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to thank me,¡± Sam guaranteed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t a little more open with you before, when it was all happening. I just wanted to get you out of there and back here as fast and safe as possible. I didn¡¯t think you needed to know that much about me yet. I was still dealing with some things. I didn¡¯t know if I was coming back, and I didn¡¯t want everyone to know I was around.¡± Sam motioned to us all.

    Allen and Eloise eased out of their constant rigidness around Sam, ever so slightly. They would get there eventually. They all would.

    ¡°Well,¡± Eleanor got up from the table, ¡°how about we get inside and get everything ready. They¡¯ll be here soon, and we need to make everything as normal as possible.¡±

    Frank stood up, reaching down beside his chair to grab another unseen beer he had already grabbed. It was a Corona, and he walked it right over to Sam, ¡°I knew if you stayed, you¡¯d need some of that nasty shit you brought the last time.¡±

    Sam grinned, actually letting out a laugh, ¡°Thanks.¡±

    We all stood from our seats and headed in. Eleanor stayed close to Sam, never letting him get too far away. I knew that she felt so connected with him, thinking of him as a second son in a way. We still had no idea what he was, but for the time being¡­ that was okay.

    Autumn still held her silence as we paced inside. I could sense something between them again from the moment they reconnected in the yard. It was unspoken but to me it was plain as day. It worried me to see it. I just wanted my daughter to have a full life, and it pained me to think it, but Sam could not give her that.

    All I hoped now was that we could keep our cousins in good standing about Sam¡¯s status. They¡¯d be in the same room with him soon, and I had to make sure we could maintain their inclination to keeping him a secret. We had other family out in the far reaches of the world that were not as understanding. Branches of the Chasse family that lived differently than my immediate family did. If Zeke and Arthur did not see Sam as we did, we could have a very big problem.

 Chapter 40 - Stepping Inside

    I was standing in the kitchen beside Eleanor. Her dark hair lay over her right shoulder as she poured a few glasses of wine for her family. She wouldn¡¯t let me out of her sight since I had arrived at their home. She wanted to make sure I was alright. She wouldn¡¯t stop thanking me for what I did for her, and Allen. Bringing them back to their lives and family. Every few minutes she¡¯d say it.

    ¡°Sam, truly, thank you for all that you¡¯ve done for us,¡± Eleanor would say. ¡°Without you¡­ our family would be in shambles.¡±

    I understood how important it all was for them. They had family returning from death. They were feeling things much differently than I was; I went numb to most things that others felt so strongly about. It was easier for me since I had so much taken at once. When most others lingered in the emotions afterwards, I was already back to a calmed state.

    I kept telling her she didn¡¯t have to thank me, and that I just wanted to help when I could. I threatened her if she kept saying thank you that I¡¯d leave. She smiled but had a hint in her eye that she¡¯d try and stop me from leaving.

    I sipped the beer beside the kitchen counter with Frank, even though it didn¡¯t do anything to me, but I kept up appearances like it did. I needed some more of the blazingstar if I wanted to actually feel it. It had been a while since I had some, but that was probably for the best.

    Then, I started to wonder why the yellow herb affected me at all when silver didn¡¯t. It made me start to think harder on the subject of weaknesses. Why did one thing have an effect, and another didn¡¯t. Who made these rules, and why was I such an oddball compared to the rest of the hidden world?

    I wanted to keep Autumn right beside me as I sat in her family¡¯s home, but we hadn¡¯t seen each other in months. As far as I knew, she didn¡¯t feel the same anymore. I missed her. As Frank talked to me at the counter, I kept her movement across the second floor closely tracked in my mind.

    Allen and Eloise had left for the night. They had been staying with Jane at the Talbot property. They stayed with the pack most nights so far. They would up until their first full year with Jane, especially now that they were away from everything they had known before. Jane wanted to see how they behaved on full moons. She¡¯d work with them and teach them how to be like the Talbots. She had to know it was safe for them to be out and about, and they had to be ready for the approaching day, so they left for the Rockwoods Reservation.

    The two werewolves acknowledged me as they prepared to leave but kept a safe distance. I think that even still through all of the conversation with the family they had reservations about me. They knew the small flashes and images they saw while transformed were real. The few moments of absolute carnage they witnessed was hard to forget, and even harder to understand. I knew it would take time.

    Eleanor patted my arm as she walked Allen and Eloise out, assuring me she would be back. She also wanted to make sure I knew I couldn¡¯t escape and disappear again. I think they all thought I¡¯d vanish again.

    Then, when no one else was around the immediate vicinity, Frank asked, ¡°Sam, tell me¡­¡± He turned in his chair as everyone vacated the area in preparation for the cousins¡¯ arrival. ¡°Why did you do it?¡± he asked. ¡°Eleanor said you had the chance to be human again, but you gave it away to save her¡­¡± he thought about what she had told him. ¡°Why did you do it?¡± Frank asked, seeming very emotional on the subject.

    I formulated the words before I tried to say anything I didn¡¯t mean. Frank, behind the jokes and light-heartedness, seemed like he thought very deeply about things.

    ¡°I knew what I had become since I was transformed into¡­ this. Not literally, I still don¡¯t fully know what I am. But I knew what I had been doing since I was turned, and what I felt inside. I gave up everything I had to keep my family safe. They moved on and continued living. I spent the next two years alone. I had no one until the night I met all of you. I grew a lot closer than I ever meant to with your family. When I knew Eleanor died¡­ all I could think about was protecting the people I cared about, again. I had to get her back, and when they told me I could trade my life¡­ I just did it. I had thought for so long that I was already dead, so when they dangled that in front of me¡­ I just gave it right back.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Frank didn¡¯t have the words ready to speak. He didn¡¯t know what to say. This was one of the few rare times I saw Frank visibly emotional.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot more to the story. What I am¡­ what I¡¯m supposed to do¡­ I don¡¯t know. Honestly, I don¡¯t know if I believe it all one hundred percent yet. I¡¯m still trying to figure it out.¡±

    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t speak for the rest of my family, but I can speak for myself,¡± Frank added. ¡°As long as you want to stick around, you¡¯ll always be welcome with me.¡± Frank clinked his beer into mine after he finished talking. He spun to face forward at the counter, ¡°And don¡¯t worry about Wayland. He¡¯s a good dude. He just knows what his number one priority is: that¡¯s Delilah. He¡¯ll do anything to protect her, even if it doesn¡¯t agree with everyone else.¡±

    I nodded because I understood. I thought I would be the same with Caydee. I hoped I would¡­

    ¡°They''re here,¡± Carter said as he came around the corner into the kitchen. ¡°Sam, you and Frank head into the dining room and wait. I¡¯ll bring them all in there for dinner, and we¡¯ll make introductions.¡± It was all very orchestrated.

    ¡°Can do,¡± I said, getting up from my chair and heading to the familiar, massive oak table just a few feet away in the dining room.

    Frank followed me into the low-lit dining room, where I was first introduced to the joined family. That was the night my second life changed.

    After a few minutes of waiting, Autumn appeared in the entryway of the dining room. My entire body went into a rigid shock at the sight of her. Just seeing her so frequently throughout a day was too much to handle after being away from her for so long. I felt the monster inside pushing me forward to her. I felt my hands pushing myself out of the chair, my feet taking my weight to stand. The monster wanted control. I quickly snapped out of it once I realized what I was subconsciously doing.

    As soon as Frank saw her, he asked, ¡°Hey, can you stick with Sam? I need to hit the bathroom and then get us another drink.¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± she answered quickly, and unemotionally as she paced over to us.

    Frank rounded the corner, and Autumn and I were alone. She stared at me for a minute, and I stared back. I don¡¯t think either of us knew what to say.

    ¡°Autumn¡­¡± I started.

    She just eyed me intently, unsure of how we were supposed to act around each other now.

    ¡°I¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know what was best. I tried to think of something to say without sounding like I was making excuses.

    We stood there for a minute, both of us trying to figure out how this was supposed to work. Part of me wondered if I hadn¡¯t done what I did for her mom, if she would even want to be around me?

    I could hear everything. Every little sound she made, from the beating of her heart to the hum of voices throughout every corner of the house. Even her breathing seemed louder, catching slightly as she got closer. Her scent was a mix of flowers and something sharper; it filled the air between us, making it impossible not to notice how close she was. My heart was pounding faster now, a nervous, uneasy beat as I tried to brace myself for whatever she might say.

    She moved slowly, making her way around the table, trailing her fingers along the edge. I could hear the squeak it made as it glided across the polished finish. I watched her, caught between wanting to hear what was on her mind and dreading it at the same time. She finally reached my side, and when she pulled out the chair beside me, the loud scrape of the dark chair against the hardwood floor made me flinch. She turned her chair to face me, her eyes flicking up to meet mine for a second before she glanced away, like she wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted to look at me or not.

    The silence was starting to get to me, stretching out awkward and tense. I couldn¡¯t read her at all. Was she nervous, upset¡­ angry? My mind raced, running through all the things she could be thinking, none of them good. I opened my mouth, ready to say something, anything, just to break the silence, but she spoke first, her voice soft and unsure.

    She hesitated before speaking, her voice coming out soft, almost shaky. ¡°Do you think¡­ we could talk? Sometime soon, maybe¡­¡±

    Her words hung between us, and my mind scrambled to keep up. I¡¯d dreamed about reconnecting with her, hoping for a moment like this as I bounded between kills across the country. But now that it was happening, all I could feel was a twisting, nervous fear; something I never felt while I was on the hunt. I nodded automatically, not fully processing, my mind still caught on everything she wasn¡¯t saying.

    I couldn¡¯t believe she was asking me this¡­ it was everything I¡¯d wanted, everything I¡¯d hoped she might want, too. My voice came out too fast, almost stumbling over the words. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d like that.¡±

    She hesitated, then reached over and placed her hand on mine, her touch tentative, almost fragile. The warmth of her skin seeped into me, and I could feel her pulse thrumming through her fingers, quick and nervous, matching the erratic beat of her heart. I could hear it, feel it¡ªher adrenaline pumping, her skin flushed with the anxiety she was trying so hard to hide. To anyone else, she might¡¯ve seemed calm, collected even, but I could sense every little crack in her composure.

    ¡°You still¡­ feel human to me¡­¡± she said, more inwardly to herself. It was like she was touching me to see if I was real; or maybe to see if I felt cold and dead, or inhuman in some way.

    Her eyes met mine, dark and familiar, and I was struck by how much she was still the same, yet somehow different. Her dark brown hair was shorter now, just past her shoulders, and it took me a moment to realize how much I¡¯d missed these details, how they all seemed to blur together in my memories until now. Her scent filled the space between us, fogging my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else but her. It was overwhelming, being this close to her again¡­ was almost too much to handle.

    ¡°Mom and Dad told me everything you talked about with them,¡± she started, her voice faltering slightly, her eyes searching mine. ¡°But I feel like¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­¡± She trailed off, struggling to find the right words, her feelings clearly bottled up, hidden just beneath the surface. ¡°I feel like we were so close before, and I just want to hear certain things directly from you. If that¡¯s okay¡­¡±

    I swallowed, nodding quickly, desperate to give her whatever she needed. ¡°Whatever you want¡­ I¡¯ll do it. Everyone¡¯s here now, so when do you think we can talk?¡±

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted, her voice quiet, almost drowned out by the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready, just tell me. I can come to you¡­¡±

    She glanced up suddenly, her attention snapping toward the entrance of the dining room, her expression shifting as she picked up on something I couldn¡¯t quite sense yet. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming.¡±

    The moment shattered, the fragile connection between us fraying as the weight of reality crashed back in.

    She snapped up out of her chair, and the closeness we had for a moment, as Frank rounded the corner. She paced back around to the other side of the table to let Frank have his seat beside me. I didn¡¯t even hear him coming I was so distracted by Autumn¡¯s closeness.

    ¡°They¡¯re almost here,¡± he warned.

    I eased back into my chair as Autumn found a seat adjacent to me. The oak slab separated us, but my eyes were trained on her as she calmed herself. She couldn¡¯t let her family see the break in her demeanor.

    She looked back over at me once she gathered herself. Our close intimacy had been interrupted, and for the time being, was gone. She half smiled and nodded a few times, assuring me we¡¯d work something out where we could talk¡­ alone.

    The monster was thrilled inside his cage. Prying on the walls of its cell. It felt like it was reaching for the wheel. It wanted control.

    I breathed long and slow as I readied myself for dinner.

    Only moments later, Eleanor walked in, eyes wide as she prepared mentally. She sat down as the family was transiting through the house. Only a moment or two later, Carter and Wayland were passing into the entry of the dining room with many different people.

    ¡°Hey,¡± everyone let out in unison as soon as they were in sight. They had all seen each just a few hours earlier, as they were staying in the guest wing. Still, I could tell they must be close at their jovial reaction to everyone coming back to the house after only leaving for the day.

    It made me wonder; was being around them going to cause a problem within their family. I didn¡¯t want to be a problem for them.

    ¡°How was it?¡± Frank asked from beside me.

    ¡°Good,¡± the eldest man answered as he walked up to a chair on the other side. ¡°We visited a few friends in the area and even met up with Bartley.¡±

    Just then, Bartley, his wife Sarah, Patrick, and the elusive Shelta appeared behind them in the dining room. They all walked inside of the low-lit room in good spirits as they reunited with their extended family. They all hugged and greeted one another as they entered. It took a few moments for Bartley, and the rest of the Wicklows, to realize I was sitting smack dab in the middle of the table. I sat casually, leaning on the left armrest as everyone greeted one another. I just waited, tried to blend into the environment, and most importantly stayed calm. Act as human as possible, like Carter wanted.

    Bartley¡¯s face almost went white as he saw me, ¡°Sam!¡± He maintained his composure pretty well at the sight of me. ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡±

    The uncertainty was apparent on his face as we looked eye to eye. I could only imagine the things he thought as he saw me for the first time, especially after Annabelle relayed all of the things she felt about my existence. I was probably the biggest mystery that any of them had ever come across. It surprised me that they had no idea I¡¯d be here. Or, maybe Annabelle sensed the void in her sight that I created but felt safe about it. She was odd.

    I could see the looks the Wicklows were passing between themselves as they knew Carter needed them to just play it casual. They quickly joined in with the ploy, acting as natural as possible. No lies, we just weren¡¯t spilling all of the beans. Not yet.

    Patrick seemed more distressed than the rest of them about it. I didn¡¯t have to guess why. He was worried Autumn wouldn¡¯t give him the attention he¡¯d had recently, now that I was back.

    The Wicklows all looked the same since the last time I had seen them, Except for Shelta. I hadn¡¯t seen her in a very long time, but I could tell she seemed different somehow. Her black hair was longer than before, and it was impossibly straight. She had a more modern look to herself than the rest of her family. Her face looked strained, and her eyes were far off like before¡­ but something was different. She looked livelier, more assertive than what I remembered of my short interactions with her before. She spoke when needed during greetings but turned silent most of the time. Even compared to Annabelle, Shelta was the strangest of her family, and I hadn¡¯t even seen what she was capable of yet.

    Patrick got his long dark hair cut as well. No longer was he that ponytail wearing asshole. Now his hair was shaved on the sides and swept towards the back. It still looked ridiculous. I really wanted to slap the shit out of him.

    ¡°So, this is Sam,¡± the unknown man said as he looked to me blankly. ¡°That was you¡­ the other night.¡± His eyes looked like he didn¡¯t believe the lone person looking back at him murdered that gigantic demon-bat from the cave.

    The crowd of people all took a seat at the slam packed dining room table. Total, there were fifteen of us sitting around the table, after Allen and Eloise left. I didn¡¯t recognize a few faces, so Carter made some introductions.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said simply, trying not to talk too much.

    ¡°And you killed that Olitiau?¡± a rougher man behind the first said.

    ¡°The what¡­¡± I was confused.

    ¡°The bat; that thing at the cave. That¡¯s what it was called,¡± Carter quickly explained.

    ¡°Oh... yeah, it¡¯s dead,¡± I admitted.

    They all looked at me, waiting for more information. They wanted details; how I did it, was it hard, what was it like? It didn¡¯t seem like my answers where what they wanted.

    Carter cut in, ¡°Sam, this is my cousin Zeke.¡±

    Zeke reached his older muscular arm out across the wooden table, shaking my hand with a firm grip. He tried to seem unafraid.

    ¡°Nice grip,¡± he smiled. ¡°I guess Carter wasn¡¯t exaggerating.¡±

    Zeke was a little older than Carter, closer to Frank¡¯s age, but he had a few grey hairs tracing out the sides of his head. He seemed like he had been seasoned by hunting. Seen more death and tragedies than most, just like his family. He was almost as tall as I was, leaning all the way across the table as we shook hands.

    He had a weird look on his face as he spoke, like he was sizing me up. He looked like he had questions, but he seemed to be holding back. I think Carter front loaded him, told him to be calm. This was definitely just a meet and greet.

    I just nodded, unsure of how Carter wanted me to respond.

    ¡°I¡¯m Zeke, nice to meet you, Sam,¡± he eventually continued. ¡°This is my daughter Kayla,¡± he motioned over towards a girl with blonde hair that reminded me of Vicky. She was just as physically honed as the rest of the hunters. She looked about the same age as Autumn and Patrick. They were all three sitting in a row, with Autumn sandwiched between them. Kayla looked like she kept eyeing Patrick, picking at him in various ways. I could tell that they all had known each other for a very long time.

    She was taller than Autumn, not by much, but I could see the similarities as Kayla plopped down beside her. She whispered something in Autumn¡¯s ear as she sat, making Autumn smile and blush. Kayla let out a soft laugh at her cousin¡¯s embarrassment, shooting a glance my way. I wished I would have tuned into what they were saying, but Zeke kept talking.

    ¡°This is my brother, Arthur,¡± Zeke waved towards a man with a similar build to Frank, but he never said a word.

    He had black hair and a scar that traced around the outside of his left eye. His look was accompanied by a ¡°do not fuck with me¡± attitude. He just sat in his chair and nodded as his name came up. He seemed rougher than the rest, and very serious. He didn¡¯t look like he took too much bullshit. Yet, for some reason I liked him the most. Maybe because he didn¡¯t talk too much, and he didn¡¯t seem like he liked people that did.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you all,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sounds like everyone has high hopes for you to stick around?¡± Zeke asked, having no time or patience for anyone beating around the bush. He seemed pretty outspoken and firm in his personal beliefs. The way he said it let me know he wasn¡¯t of the same opinion as everyone else; not yet.

    I didn¡¯t say anything, just stared aback at him.

    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll just have to see¡­¡± Zeke said roughly. ¡°It¡¯s a hard life what we do. You think you¡¯d stick around if you were human?¡± He was brutally honest, and I don¡¯t think he thought I¡¯d make it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°If you didn¡¯t have all that strength, you think you would¡¯ve fought that bat?¡± he asked, seeming like he was trying to let me know he didn¡¯t think I was worth a shit¡­ or something like that.

    ¡°Probably not.¡±

    ¡°So why should we let you join our family now?¡± He asked, creating more and more tension with every word.

    I had done a fairly good job of not giving him much to this point, so I figured I¡¯d just keep that going. If nothing more than to just get under his skin. I¡¯m not sure if this is what Carter had planned, but ole¡¯ Zeke was really starting to piss me off.

    He was blunt and unapologetic. It made me want to let the monster rattle its cage a little, pumping out the dominating presence that made grown men shit themselves. Then we¡¯d see if he thought I¡¯d make it as a human in his world.

    Maybe that¡¯s what he was doing. Was he trying to see if he could rile me up? Maybe he wanted to see if I was a threat¡­ if he could get me to show my dark side here at the dinner table, maybe that was all the ammunition he needed to make things hard for Carter with the rest of their family.

    ¡°I think I know what you want me to say,¡± I told Zeke.

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± he said. ¡°Tell me. What is it that you think I want to hear,¡± he smirked, cockiness in his voice.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± I said bluntly.

    His eyes bugged out a little, ¡°Excuse me.¡± He didn¡¯t like that.

    I explained calmly, not even looking at him anymore, ¡°If I didn''t show up when I did, you, and all of your family would be dead.¡± I left it at that.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Zeke stood there for a moment, frozen at my words. I think he partly didn¡¯t like the way I talked to him, and also realized what I said was true.

    He smirked, and then sat down.

    The rest of the evening passed in a strained calm. My friends tiptoed around the topics, and I kept my head down, letting the family steer the conversation. It was obvious they were sizing me up, eager to see the person from all the stories, trying to judge for themselves. This whole thing seemed like more of a ¡°let me get a look at this fucking guy¡± kind of deal. I added my voice here and there, but it was all things everyone already knew, at least on the surface. Some details were new to the cousins and maybe even the Wicklows.

    It felt like they¡¯d discussed it all before, just going over facts and filling in blanks about what happened when I first roamed St. Louis months ago. They mentioned the three immortals and Eleanor being hurt by the chimera, Phineas. I clenched my teeth when they talked about that, twisting the truth into some vague poison when it was the manticore venom that really killed her. Those truths were still buried. Secrets they weren¡¯t ready to reveal yet.

    Autumn looked to me periodically as they all spoke, hoping I was doing alright after what happened with Zeke. I think she worried about me as I sat silently for most of the night. I know I probably seemed cold in the moment, but I thought what I said was best. Zeke was a bully, and he thought he knew best. I will say though, he had some balls talking to me that way; knowing what I did to that Olitiau¡­ or whatever that thing was called.

    Sitting there, listening to them all talk about my dark side. The part of me that killed relentlessly for the last two and a half years, made Autumn and Eleanor worry. I never looked up to them when I could feel their gaze on me. I think they thought I¡¯d get upset or something if I heard them talking about some of the things I had done¡­ at least that¡¯s what it felt like. I think it might be more upsetting for them.

    ¡°I really wish you¡¯d introduce me to Martin,¡± Zeke told Carter. ¡°I¡¯m honestly interested in meeting him. None of us have ever met a friendly vampire before.¡± Zeke seemed serious with what he was saying. ¡°Only ever the ones at the end of our blades.¡±

    I was curious if Martin would even go for something like that. I still hadn¡¯t talked to Martin yet. I needed to stop by, seeing as I might be around, visions pending. Now that I was more out in the open, part of me had been thinking about dipping my feet into the supernatural world. See what the real night life was like, if only to see some possibilities¡­ for when the time came. Autumn surprised me at dinner. She was either a really good actress, or it was real. You could tell there was something between her and Patrick. Nothing out in the open, but it was subtle little cues that tipped me off. Was it real, and I had no future chance with her? Or was it a distraction that would easily pass if I reestablished myself in her life? Then I wondered¡­ should I? Was it right?

    I could tell by Patrick¡¯s body language that he felt like he had a claim on her. I felt the monster boil underneath my skin as I watched him inch in towards her. It roared and thrashed in its cage. Autumn would shoot a few glances my way as she tried to act normal, I assumed. She kept enough distance for me to think she was trying to keep him at bay. However, she was close enough that he, and everyone else didn¡¯t suspect anything unusual. His shoulder leaning into hers as he sat slightly angled beside her. They all thought that whatever was going on with us before was over. I think that she had been genuinely reconnecting with him after I just ghosted her and the family. She probably never thought she¡¯d see me again and tried to move forward. Then I showed up again. Here to fuck shit up¡­ I guess.

    I wondered¡­ should I have come back? Would she be better off with him instead? He could offer her things I couldn¡¯t. He could give her life, when all I brought was death. I never really liked Patrick, but at that moment, I felt a slight gratitude for what he could do if she did want something¡­ human, a normal life. He would be there as an option to make her happy. I hated even thinking it, but I couldn¡¯t deny the thoughts. Just looking at Autumn all night made me realize¡­ I wanted her to be happy. In this life they lived, this hunter¡¯s life¡­ she deserved it. Just looking at her, across the table, she seemed like she was happy. In a way.

    I shook my thoughts clear and tried to focus.

    Thankfully, I had made it through dinner and was standing at the door with Frank. He offered me a ride like multiple times in the late evening and eventually just said yes. I think for some reason it meant a lot to him. I liked Frank, and honestly, I was ready to go. Things were happening inside of me, and it was all new again. Ten months on my own again was a long time to be away. All this was a little much for me, if I was honest with myself.

    I took a deep breath as Frank and I left the house, saying goodbye to all of the family. Autumn had just gone upstairs with Kayla to show her something, and Patrick followed right behind them. I wasn''t sure what to think but, in any case, I left with Frank.

    Carter and Eleanor told me goodbye and said they¡¯d let Autumn know I had left. Eleanor was afraid in her eyes like she wouldn¡¯t see me again.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be at the safe house?¡± Eleanor spoke softly as I inched out the door.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I promised. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere, yet.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± she accepted, letting go of my arm after she had grabbed me at the door. ¡°If you need something or anything changes, let me know,¡± Eleanor urged. ¡°You still have our numbers?¡±

    ¡°I do, and I will,¡± I smiled as I answered her many questions.

    She treated me like a mother would a son. I loved it.

    Then, Frank and I headed out. We paced through the yard to his big rusty truck, ¡°Hop on in there, Sam. Let¡¯s get the hell out of here.¡±

    ¡°You alright to drive?¡± I slightly chuckled.

    He let out a snort, ¡°Yeah, I think I''m alright. I only had enough to distract myself from Zeke. He¡¯s hard to listen to,¡± Frank admitted.

    I closed the door to Frank''s rickety truck, shutting myself inside with him. The old rust bucket sprang to life shockingly fast, and very loud.

    ¡°You don¡¯t like Zeke?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Zeke¡¯s family,¡± Frank admitted, ¡°but he can be an asshole. He doesn¡¯t like the idea of Jane and I, and he¡¯s very opinionated. So, he¡¯ll let me know what he thinks every chance he gets.¡±

    I realized something, ¡°Is that why everyone is¡­¡± I tried to figure out how to word what was going on.

    ¡°Pretending like you¡¯re a harmless rabbit?¡± Frank asked.

    ¡°More or less,¡± I chuckled.

    ¡°There are a few other aspects to it. Autumn¡¯s one of them.¡±

    ¡°Autumn?¡± I spoke out in the rumbling shake of the truck as we cruised away from their house. I thought about it for a minute as I rested my head against the rumbling glass in the door. ¡°If they knew she was with someone like me before you all knew the truth, they¡¯d react badly, wouldn¡¯t they?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They would,¡± Frank admitted.

    ¡°So that¡¯s the reason you¡¯re not laying everything out for them?¡± I said out loud.

    Frank spoke truthfully, ¡°The Wicklows¡­ yes. The rest of us¡­ no. Eleanor has made it adamantly clear that you¡¯re with us from now until she says otherwise. The Wicklows are protecting Autumn and Eleanor by keeping your secrets too. We don¡¯t know how the rest of the family would react to knowing about you with Autumn or bringing El back to life. It¡¯s just too hard to explain. Hell! We don¡¯t even know how you did it.¡± Frank laughed loudly in the truck, definitely still a little buzzed. ¡°So, for now, we are all keeping certain things under wraps.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± I understood.

    ¡°Our family is very close, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed. We take secrets and lies very seriously. But sometimes, you need to filter the truth, so it doesn¡¯t hit all at once. That¡¯s how we do it with new hunters. We can¡¯t just dump a truckload of scary shit on them at once. They¡¯d run for the hills. Even with our extended family we don¡¯t see that often, we have to restrict the flow of information to them.¡± Frank sighed as he breathed between his words. ¡°We all want what¡¯s best for one another with this life we lead, but not all of them might be okay with you¡­ not at first anyway. Don¡¯t get me wrong, though, Sam. We do want you around. You grew into this family by the things you did for us. We are keeping your secret so we can keep you with us.¡±

    I nodded at his honesty, and a peek behind the curtain to his family. I was happy with what he said, but it was still my usual story, just staying on the outer fringe of everything and everyone as they all lived their lives. I was meant for things other than a typical family and a normal life, even though that is what I still craved more than the kills of the monster.

    We were silent in the truck as we bounced down a bumpy, low-lit road.

    ¡°What would happen if they didn¡¯t agree? If they thought I was too dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Ultimately,¡± Frank thought for a moment. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t change us. We¡¯d still have you around. But¡­¡± his next words were measured carefully. ¡°There are other parts of our family that have spread out across the country. If they found out about you¡­ we¡¯d have more of them coming down here. They may come to hunt¡­¡±

    I actually smiled, ¡°Me?¡±

    Frank looked at me and grinned, ¡°I know. It wouldn¡¯t work obviously. They¡¯d have no way to kill you. But it would create rifts, between us and family branches, maybe even with you.¡± Frank said truthfully. ¡°Things would get¡­ complicated. Very complicated. We¡¯re trying as hard as we can to not let that happen with Zeke and Arthur. One word from them¡­ and others will come.¡±

    I thought long and hard about what he said. It made me worried about the situation my presence alone put the Chasses in. It was a lot I didn¡¯t know was going on. We sat in silence for a while.

    ¡°You can let me out here,¡± I offered in the silence of the night.

    ¡°You sure?¡± Frank asked as he slowed down on the side of the highway.

    ¡°Yeah, you don¡¯t have to go all the way out there. I can walk the rest of the way,¡± I assured him.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t mind,¡± Frank asserted. He could tell I was having some kind of emotional crack rip through my usually thick wall.

    ¡°Yeah. I need the walk,¡± I told him as I thought about Autumn, and the possibility of not having the same closeness I once did with her. Then the potential I had to crack the Chasse family apart. It started building on me.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he agreed as his tires came fully to a stop.

    I opened the door and started preparing to leave him in the middle of that dark road. His cab light was the only luminance out there, lighting our conversation up for a moment on the side of secluded shoulder.

    ¡°If you ever just want to get out of there and meet up, call me. You can come over anytime. I¡¯ll always have a few of those nasty Coronas for you,¡± Frank smiled. ¡°You don¡¯t have to stay alone all the time.¡±

    I stopped my exit from his truck, looking back to him. I hoped I wouldn¡¯t regret what I was about to say, ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯d like that.¡±

    ¡°Well, hop back in, kid,¡± Frank said enthusiastically. ¡°We can head back to my place and have a few more beers. The night¡¯s still young.¡±

    I had a moment where I just stood there, almost swimming in self-pity. The thoughts of everything I had and was scared to lose weighted heavy on me. Then, I took the offer without thinking. I just wanted to be close with the family, no matter what that looked like. Then, I got back in the old truck.

    The tires skidded through gravel as we took back off. I pushed the fears of what I was doing to them down, and out of sight.

    It was only another couple of minutes after Frank dropped his truck down into the grassy median and busted a U-turn, illegally. Then, we were at his house. He didn¡¯t really live that far from Carter, or me. He was actually kind of smack dab in the middle of our two houses. I never realized he lived that close to my new hideout, once I had started living there. The one time I had come before, I wasn¡¯t that well oriented with the safehouse.

    We stepped out of the creaking, rust-bitten pickup, the old engine wheezing its final breaths as we made our way across the dusty, uneven yard toward Frank¡¯s front door. His place was tucked away in a thin slice of woods, where the trees thinned just enough to let in slivers of fading moonlight, casting long, dappled shadows across the ground. The front yard was a rough patchwork of grass, more dirt than green, worn down by time and frequent footsteps. It felt secluded, forgotten, and yet somehow lived in. A hidden corner of the world that Frank had carved out for himself.

    Near the center, a makeshift fire pit sat on a bed of dry earth, surrounded by a ring of scorched stones that had seen countless flames. The grass around it was trampled to bare dirt, a clear sign that this was more than just a fire pit. This was a gathering place, a spot where Frank must¡¯ve spent his nights, maybe with company, maybe alone. Charred bits of wood and ash spilled over the edges.

    An axe was sunk deep into a weathered tree stump nearby, the handle splintered and worn from use. Around it, stacks of neatly chopped firewood were piled up. The stump¡¯s surface was pitted and scarred, evidence of relentless chopping, each mark a story of Frank¡¯s routine. The whole place felt raw and practical. It was built for function, not appearance. It held the faint, lingering scent of smoke and pine hanging in the air.

    Frank¡¯s house itself was modest, almost blending into the landscape. It was a small, weathered structure with a sagging porch and faded paint that peeled away in patches, exposing the bare wood beneath. It looked like it had been standing there forever, stubbornly resisting the creeping decay of time. A couple of mismatched chairs sat haphazardly on the porch, one missing a leg, the other tipped back against the wall. A pile of old boots and tools gathered in one corner, left behind like forgotten relics of work done long ago.

    It was a humble, unpretentious place, built for a man who lived simply and without frills. Frank¡¯s world was here, out in the woods, where the noise of the world fell away, replaced by the quiet crackle of a campfire and the steady rhythm of a life lived on one¡¯s own terms.

    ¡°Have a seat,¡± Frank offered, pointing to a large section of a felled tree. There were four of them equally spaced around the firepit. ¡°I¡¯ll run in and get some drinks.¡±

    I sat on the log and looked up into the abyss above as Frank disappeared into the house. I thought about what was happening to me lately. Just talking to Zeke had the monster infect my mind, making me more mentally resistant. It didn¡¯t want me to play human. It wanted me to run wild. It was subtle but I had been feeling things different lately. Ever since my return to St. Louis.

    Frank arrived again with a metal bucket that was full of ice and assorted beer.

    ¡°Take your pick,¡± he offered.

    I stayed there with Frank for about two hours. We just talked. I felt like I was sitting with an old friend, reliving old times. He talked a lot about Jane, some about Carter, Autumn, and Eleanor, and towards the end he bad-mouthed Zeke again. He didn¡¯t dig too deep into my strange situation. I could tell he wanted to, but he wouldn¡¯t ask.

    It was easy with Frank. It felt like I was with an old friend. Sometimes we would just laugh, and he¡¯d tell me funny shit that cracked him up over the last few weeks. It wasn¡¯t always serious. We could both just relax and slip away from everything.

    I started to think though. If Frank was the oldest, why was he here? This seemed like a far cry from the Chasse family home. Why was he living here? From the looks of it, he had been here for a very long time. I thought they all lived on the same road, right near Carter and Eleanor back when we first met. They spoke like they did, but I guess this place still wasn¡¯t that far away.

    I glanced around the quiet yard, taking in the solitude of Frank¡¯s place. It was a stark contrast to the Chasse family house, that sprawling mansion full of space, voices, and constant closeness of the hunting family. Out here, it was just Frank, the trees, and the occasional crackle of a campfire. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder¡­ why did he chose this? Why had he left all that behind for a life that seemed so solitary? Their company had money, so it wasn¡¯t like he had to stay here.

    As we drank in the moonlight, I finally broke the silence. ¡°Frank, why¡¯d you come out here? You¡¯ve got that big family house, everyone there¡­ Why live all the way out here by yourself?¡±

    Frank paused, small twigs creaking beneath his boots. He looked up from the ground to me, his expression clouded, as if my question had touched on something he¡¯d tried to bury. He set his beer in the dirt and rubbed his hands together, eyes drifting over the yard like he was searching for the right words in the dirt and leaves.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t really about the house, or the family,¡± he said, his voice low and rough, tinged with an undercurrent of regret. ¡°I love the family more than anything¡­ I just needed some space. After Jane turned¡­ it was like everything changed overnight. One minute, she¡¯s my one and only. I would have died for her¡­ my best friend. Then the next¡­ she¡¯s something else entirely.¡±

    ¡°A werewolf,¡± I said, knowing what he meant.

    ¡°No,¡± Frank said, ¡°distant. Disconnected from me. She acted like I didn¡¯t exist. Like nothing we ever had was real.¡± He leaned against a tree that his log bench was sat in front of, looking out into the darkness of the surrounding woods. ¡°It got hard, being around everyone. I wasn¡¯t¡­ me anymore. When I¡¯d force my way out there to the Talbot¡¯s¡­ she wasn¡¯t Jane anymore either. Not the way I knew her. She was this¡­ force, unpredictable and dangerous. It felt like every day was about managing her image to my family, protecting her, trying to keep things from falling apart. But all she did was push me away.¡± He shook his head at the thoughts. ¡°I couldn¡¯t handle it. It felt like she threw me away, and my life would never get better. I didn¡¯t feel like I could stay around everyone back then, not in the same space where we¡¯d all grown up. Not where every corner reminded me of how things used to be.¡±

    Frank¡¯s gaze dropped, his fingers tracing a knot in the log he sat on. ¡°I loved her, still do obviously, but I couldn¡¯t stay there and pretend for everyone. It hurt too much, and I didn¡¯t know how to deal with it. The family tried to keep it together, but I needed to get out. Being in that house, it felt like I was suffocating under all those memories and the constant fear of what my family thought.¡±

    He gestured toward the fire pit, the stacks of wood, the little corner of the world he¡¯d carved out for himself. ¡°So, I came out here. Built something that was just mine, away from all those memories. It was quiet, peaceful. Out here, I didn¡¯t have to think about any of it. I can just¡­ exist, without all the noise.¡±

    Frank¡¯s voice softened, carrying a mix of sorrow and resolve. ¡°It took a while, but I went back when they needed me. But I never thought about leaving here.¡± Frank looked around at all his land and took a great breath. ¡°Out here, I¡¯m just¡­ Frank. And that¡¯s enough.¡±

    He looked at me, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words, a flicker of something fragile but fiercely held onto. ¡°It might seem lonely, but it was better than drowning in what was left of the past.¡±

    I could hear footsteps at one point in the night that were approaching through the woods. It shot me into an alerted state, but then I caught the scent that flowed past my nose. It was Jane.

    Jane had dark, wild hair that fell around her face in straight lines, contrasting sharply with her tanned skin. Her presence was powerful, intimidating for a human. She commanded every space she entered with an undeniable, primal energy. Even in human form, she moved with quiet power and grace. An underlying threat of the werewolf she had become, her sharp eyes always scanning, always aware.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize we were going to have company,¡± Jane¡¯s voice appeared behind me, transiting the darkened forests barefoot.

    Frank shifted out of his reminiscent tone, shedding the slight sadness that crept into his voice and put on his jovial tone.

    ¡°Jane¡­ honey bunch,¡± Frank teased like they were the average suburban couple. He attempted to jump up, stumbling a little from the alcohol.

    ¡°Frank, how much have you had to drink?¡± Jane asked with concern, then eyeing me intently. My initial thought was that she didn¡¯t like the thought of Frank alone with me. But¡­ I think she liked me more than I realized.

    ¡°He¡¯s had almost all of them,¡± I motioned over to the empty beers we had tossed into the dirt. ¡°They don¡¯t really affect me by themselves, so I¡¯m drinking slowly,¡± I grinned. ¡°No need to waste them. I¡¯m only on my second.¡±

    ¡°I drank all of those,¡± he laughed, looking at the pile of empties in the dirt. ¡°You asshole.¡±

    I laughed out loud, just a little. ¡°Sorry, I thought you realized. No reason for me to drink too fast. I need that yellow dust Martin has if I actually want to feel it.¡±

    ¡°Blazingstar has an effect on you?¡± Jane asked as she steadied the stumbling Frank, taking a seat beside him.

    ¡°Yeah. Martin gave me some a while back and I hit it pretty hard for a while,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°We all do¡­ at times,¡± Jane said, hinting at her own internal struggles. ¡°It is interesting though.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, especially since silver doesn¡¯t do anything to you¡­¡± Frank spoke next.

    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late,¡± Jane looked to Frank intently.

    ¡°Better late than never,¡± Frank smiled.

    They leaned in and kissed each other quickly. They actually looked very happy with each other. I could tell that they both had wanted this for a very long time. Now that they had it, they were enjoying every second of it. They weren¡¯t taking anything for granted.

    ¡°Thank you, Sam. What you did for Bran, bringing him back like that¡­ I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d get to bury him. Really, thank you.¡± Jane spoke very seriously.

    I nodded to her, unsure what to say. It was always weird for me when people thanked me. I felt like I didn¡¯t deserve thanks after all the killing. Sometimes I thought the good things I did were so outweighed by the murders that I could never break even.

    ¡°Can I ask you two a question?¡± I interrupted.

    ¡°Shoot, buddy,¡± Frank quickly agreed.

    ¡°What do you think about me?¡± I asked. ¡°Be as brutally honest as you can!¡± I wanted his real truth, and not some sugar-coated version to spare my feelings, or keep me calm.

    They both looked to each other on their side of the fire, curious why I asked such a thing out of the blue. I waited for their responses. They took deep breaths as they prepared their thoughts for my serious question.

    Frank began, ¡°I think you¡¯re a threat to everything we know. The rules don¡¯t apply to you like other creatures, and you¡¯ve done things that no one else can¡­¡± Frank was looking into his mind as he spoke, remembering everything about me that made him say these things. ¡°If I had to say one thing to describe you, it would be that,¡± I braced myself for his opinion, ¡°you¡¯re a good soul.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t expecting that after his initial blasts.

    ¡°I agree,¡± Jane nodded. ¡°In the end¡­ you don¡¯t kill and end the good in the world. That¡¯s what monsters do. They live for themselves¡­ you don¡¯t seem to.¡±

    ¡°When El told us what happened, once she remembered, it shook me hard, man,¡± Frank spoke openly. ¡°When she told us that you gave up your own life so she could come back¡­¡± he just shook his head. ¡°Then, she said you had a family¡­ a kid?¡±

    I nodded at the ground, never speaking as they talked.

    ¡°Could you have gone back, really?¡± Jane asked.

    I nodded again, taking a sip of the beer to take my eyes off of them. I felt exposed as we talked about these things so honestly. It was more of an anxious tick.

    ¡°A monster wouldn¡¯t do that, Sam.¡± Frank said it slowly, really wanting me to understand how he thought. ¡°I know that¡¯s why you¡¯ve been gone all this time. You think you¡¯re a monster, and you don¡¯t know how to be around us. But you were with us before and I felt like, even though you weren¡¯t honest about what you really were, that person we knew back then was you. Now, we only see glimpses of that guy.¡±

    I nodded again, more to myself this time. ¡°It¡¯s hard not to think about the cards I¡¯ve been dealt, and the things I feel inside of me, what it wants me to do. A lot of the time I wonder if I¡¯m doing the right thing. Should I even be around you guys¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, you should,¡± Jane answered shockingly. ¡°Just the fact that you have saved their lives. Autumn, Eleanor, Allen, and Eloise; these are lives you have saved for the family. If you weren¡¯t around you wouldn¡¯t have been able to do that. If you leave, you won¡¯t be able to protect them, and continue to do that.¡± Jane explained bluntly, ¡°I¡¯ve met my share of monsters, Sam. They¡¯re cruel, selfish, and evil. That¡¯s not you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re something, Sam, something we don¡¯t know or understand. There are fears about what you could turn out to be, and what it could mean someday¡­ but to me, to Carter and our family, you¡¯re one of us.¡±

    They stopped talking, and I stopped talking. We all three just sat in the flickering light of the campfire and listened to the crickets play their songs.

    ¡°What about Autumn?¡± I asked. As soon as I said the words, I felt like it was a mistake. But there was no taking it back.

    Frank looked back up to me, ¡°Autumn is my niece. I love her like my own, and I want only two things for her; to be safe and happy. If you can give her those things¡­ then I have no problem with that¡­¡± Frank¡¯s opinion soothed a hardened part of my soul that kept me away. ¡°Now, others will have other opinions¡­ like Zeke.¡± He looked to Jane, kissing her lips one more time, ¡°But like me¡­ I don¡¯t give a fuck what he thinks.¡±

    Jane smiled. I could see that it made her very happy that Frank didn¡¯t care that others did not approve of her. His acceptance of her, no matter what other people thought, made Jane latch onto Frank emotionally like she needed him for air. I could see it in her eyes as he spoke.

    ¡°But¡­¡± Frank added, ¡°Autumn has to make that decision for herself. I don¡¯t know how to read her lately, and she was pretty torn up after everything that happened after we found out about you. She won¡¯t admit it, but she blamed herself for El dying, for you making the trade, and then leaving for all those months. She took everything really hard,¡± Frank said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s doing with Patrick, but we think it¡¯s all bullshit.¡±

    Jane admitted, ¡°It is very out of character for Autumn. She¡¯s been different these last few months.¡±

    I¡¯d never really thought about how everything had affected her. I was so focused on my own sacrifices, on what I¡¯d lost, that I¡¯d shut out everything else. Every time I saw Autumn after the trade, she carried this weight, like she felt responsible for what had happened¡­ for all the fallout. I hadn¡¯t realized it until now.

    In that moment, it was like I was seeing her in a different light. I couldn¡¯t understand how she could possibly blame herself for any of it. It was my choices that set everything in motion, my lies, my actions. She had no control over that, and yet, she was carrying it as if she did. I wanted to reach out; to tell her it wasn¡¯t her fault, that she didn¡¯t have to bear this guilt. More than anything, I just wanted to talk to her, to let her know it was okay. I just had to find a way to make that happen. It was a conversation we both needed.

    It was almost daylight, we three had been sitting out at the dwindling fire all night as we talked about the recent events. Jane and Frank asked about the specifics of my trip to get Allen, how I knew he was alive, and where he was. I told them I didn¡¯t know how it worked, I just saw his picture and could feel he was alive, and I just followed that feeling in my mind until I saw him.

    The being from the fields came up in conversation, but I kept that part light. He was still such a mystery to me that I didn¡¯t want to tell them much, since I didn¡¯t know jack shit, in all reality.

    ¡°I guess I should head out,¡± I said, brushing the dirt off of my pants as I stood.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Frank said as well, ¡°I should probably get some rest, too. Carter¡¯s going to want me functional at work, and at this point I¡¯m thinking about calling in. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll fire me,¡± he laughed.

    Jane stood with Frank and surprisingly she came in to give me a light hug.

    ¡°Thanks for everything, Sam. We really can¡¯t say it enough,¡± Jane smiled. ¡°Allen and Eloise are doing good with us so far. They¡¯re still a bit wilder than most of my family, but we¡¯ll get them adjusted to our pack. They¡¯ll be just fine.¡±

    Frank grabbed me tight, ¡°Come over again, kid. Anytime you want, just text me so I know to be here.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± I patted his back. ¡°Thanks for the talk. I feel better about things than I did before. ¡°

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Sam,¡± Frank said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you guys later,¡± I waved.

    I was through the small trees and at a road. When no cars were blazing past, I bounded across the multiple lanes of highway to the other side of the road where the thick trees encompassed me all the way to my new home.

    I walked back to my house slowly. I took my time, thinking about my night with all of them, and of what I had felt and spoke.

    I paced the woods as I stayed inside my thoughts. I felt a buzz in my pocket earlier in the night and had never checked it. As soon as I was stepping over some protruding roots at the base of a tree, I looked to see Autumn¡¯s name appear on my screen. It was a text message.

    ¡®Hey, I didn¡¯t get to say goodbye.¡¯ Autumn texted me once she had realized I was gone and got a free minute from Patrick and Kayla.

    I wanted to text her back, but I couldn¡¯t. The next time I spoke to her, I wanted it to be in person. I had to look her in the eyes when I told her that she had no blame for what had happened to her mother, me, or my decisions. It was all on me, and me alone.

    In the shadows of the woods, in the cold of the early morning, I had so many questions. There were many things I needed answered. What was the right thing to do? Should I be putting myself back around the Chasse family?

    Everything boiled down to one question that I still needed an answer to. It was an answer I needed to know the consequences for the things I was doing. It was the same question that seared itself into my thoughts since the very moment I first opened my eyes to this new life¡­

    ¡°What am I?¡± I asked myself.

 Chapter 41 - Hunters

    I was running, barreling crudely through the darkened streets of St. Louis. As I navigated to Martin''s location, I sprinted in human form over the blacktops and between buildings. I felt the drive inside me, willing my legs to go faster and faster, fueled by the panic in my mind. I felt the monster waiting behind my eyes, right at the door, ready to take over as soon as my will broke. Once my hold for control failed¡­ it would take over.

    In these last few days, I started to think of it as a separate entity altogether. When things got me worked up and emotional, I felt it struggling against me. I could feel the monster stirring every moment of every day since I last saw my friends. It tried putting its hands on the wheel when I was so wrapped up with Autumn before dinner. Anger tried to crawl across my mind at the dining room table; the anger towards Zeke for questioning me. It was subtle but there. Something had changed within me slightly, but why? The beast in me was growing in some form. Pushing against the walls of its invisible cage. If I hadn¡¯t slowed down from the killing lately¡­ I might not have noticed it. It was pushing now¡­

    Just a few minutes earlier in the night, Martin called me. I was shocked at the appearance of his name on my cell phone, especially since I hadn¡¯t spoken with him yet. I answered it curiously. It was a conversation that lasted only a minute or two, but it had me bounding across the city in a controlled fury. I was running to meet up with him. We had to get to a location he knew the Chasses would be.

    Our conversation wasn¡¯t about catching up at his bar, it was a more dire situation. The other Chasses I had met at Carter¡¯s home were a different breed of hunters. This branch of the family didn¡¯t fight as strategically or preplanned as my friends did. Autumn, Carter, and many others had said they never got into a fight they knew they couldn¡¯t win. They plan, they prepare, and they hunt. Zeke, Arthur, and Kayla were way more aggressive. Once Carter and Zeke spoke more in-depth about the man I killed and the details I had learned, they felt they had to act.

    That¡¯s when our current predicament was born. They formulated a plan quickly, not well planned, and loaded out to go on a patrol. Martin told me over the phone that they had found a place they thought people were being held. Martin had contacts in the supernatural world who had heard eerie stories of a place where people had been being taken. So naturally, Martin had already been keeping tabs on the same site. When Carter had told him what they were planning, Martin panicked. That¡¯s when he called me, asking for help.

    The more I learned about the Chasse family, specifically Carter, the more I understood the direct relationship with Martin. Carter and Martin talked often¡­ very often. There probably wasn¡¯t a day that went by that they didn¡¯t exchange information in some way. Carter always had an ace in the hole with his vampire friend. When they went out on any kind of hunt that seemed to be more than anything Carter was comfortable with, he¡¯d notify Martin to have him in the area as backup. Martin was a very old vampire, and his strength, speed, and various skills from his long life would be waiting somewhere very near when Carter called for him. I did not think that all of the Chasse family knew about the frequency of Martin¡¯s presence on their hunts. Carter was a planner, and his backup plans had backup plans. When all else failed they¡¯d have a supernatural creature swoop out from the shadows as the final redundancy, if needed.

    In my vicious sprint through the darkened city, I came upon a compound of buildings that were all closely smashed together, except for a few that traced a further edge of the area. A tower shot out into the sky of one of the structures. There was a name written across the brick. Then I realized where I was; the Lemp Brewery. It was a very old set of buildings that looked more akin to some sort of castle than a modern brewery.

    I planted my legs into the earth as I stopped, shoving off the ground explosively to propel myself vertically. I clawed and scaled up the old bricks of the tallest tower, ascending higher into the night sky. A shadow that scrambled up the red bricks. Once atop the structure, I saw a dark silhouette staring off the other side. Martin was there¡­ watching. He stood across at the far edge, eyeing the area below.

    It had been a long time since I¡¯d seen Martin, but he looked the same as he always did, never aging. The black hair that outlined his unchanging face was accented greatly by the pulsing red eyes. He glowered down to the scene below.

    ¡°Martin,¡± I spoke as soon as I flung myself over the edge to the roof. ¡°Where are they?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± Martin answered. ¡°They¡¯re alright for now. They¡¯re just circling the place.¡± Martin turned to look at me, ¡°It¡¯s very good to see you again, Sam. It¡¯s been too long.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the call,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Oh please, thank you for showing up. I will take all the help I can get to keep my family safe,¡± the old vampire¡¯s claim on the Chasses was present in his words. ¡°Perhaps, we can catch up after this is done.¡±

    I nodded as he turned back to gaze over the side of the roof, ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve been meaning to come talk to you.¡±

    Then, I heard the crumbling bricks at the edge start to grind against a pressing force. I shot a quick and defensive look over at the edge, willing to kill anything that I thought would threaten the Chasses.

    Red hair and tattoos scaled the bricks just behind me. ¡°I hope I¡¯m not too late,¡± Alex spoke to us as soon as her feet were planted on the roof. ¡°I¡¯d hate to miss out on a fight if this turns out to be vampires.¡± She didn¡¯t look like she was ready for a fight, only wearing some extremely short jean cutoffs and a white tank top. She looked like she had literally just run out from behind the bar, where she tried to lure in unsuspecting new-blooded vampires.

    ¡°Thank you for coming, Alex,¡± Martin greeted his friend.

    ¡°Can you trust her around them?¡± I asked Martin quickly, slightly angry at her presence.

    I felt it beneath my mind¡­ trying to rip out. I fought the monster back for the moment, begging to stay in control. It was getting worse. I was actively concentrating on keeping my human form, much more than I usually had to.

    ¡°You¡¯ve killed more humans than she has, Sam.¡± Martin seemed stressed, actually taking an attitude with me. ¡°We¡¯re all here to step in if needed, don¡¯t forget that.¡± He spoke to both of us.

    ¡°So, it turns out you are much more than just some guy,¡± Alex started talking to me on the roof. ¡°How many people have you killed?¡± She asked like she was writing me down as a possible kill of her own, now that she knew I wasn¡¯t human. Her red eyes pulsed and began to match the shade of her blood-hued hair. She flexed her power throughout her body, letting me know she would kill me if needed. She¡¯d try.

    ¡°Only ones that deserve it¡­¡± I barely offered; still focusing on remaining human. I felt the pressure beneath my skin.

    What was happening?

    ¡°What are you?¡± she asked, intrigue filling her words, but hunger in her eyes.

    This anthropophagous vampire, as Martin had called her, was a killer of killers like me. Martin said she was strong. Maybe in a previous time in my life, I would have wanted to test my strength against her, hoping she¡¯d end me¡­ but not anymore.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to find out,¡± I threatened, my eyes slightly darkening staring through her.

    She smirked at the sight of my unusual black eyes, ¡°Neat trick¡­¡±

    ¡°Both of you,¡± Martin looked back to us angrily, ¡°enough! They¡¯re out.¡±

    I quickly stepped up to the edge, looking down at the vast expanse below us. Just at the side of one of the other buildings was the familiar suburban. There was another SUV that pulled up right behind them. All of the Chasses stepped out of their vehicle at the same time Zeke, Kayla, and Arthur got out to meet them. Then, I saw another person walking around the silver SUV. It was Patrick. He was with them on a hunt.

    A little rage swelled in me again. Why was he there? He hadn¡¯t been on a hunt with them like this. Autumn once told me he always stayed within the realm of his own family, all the Wicklows did. Now he was with them¡­ with her. It must have started throughout the past year.

    I stepped back from the roof edge in a grunting pain. I felt my insides start to twist and flex while I watched from above. The monster inside of me wanted out, and it was going to torture me until it got time out under the night sky. It wanted to kill. It hungered for death.

    I knelt as I breathed through the pain. I felt my eyes already shift completely while my talons were actively piercing through.

    ¡°SHIT,¡± I gritted my teeth through the pain, trying to lock my arms and legs in position. I could feel them trying to move without my command. The beast was trying to make a move.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Martin spoke urgently on the roof. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±

    I just shook my head, going down to both knees. My black talons had pushed out on their own, against my will. I gripped my fingers into the surface of the roof beneath me, locking my razors into the hard roof material.

    I spoke out loud through my teeth, rage, and venom spilling out, ¡°YOU¡¯RE NOT FUCKING COMING OUT!¡± I flexed and strained every muscle I still had control over, trapping the relentless beast within my mind once more. It was getting worse¡­ much worse.

    Thankfully, after about thirty seconds of continued struggle, it stopped. It felt longer, but I was glad it was finally over. It took everything I had to stay locked in place.

    I breathed more relaxed as I stood, Martin and Alex looking at me with concern.

    ¡°And you thought I was a problem?¡± Alex scoffed.

    ¡°Are you going to be able to continue?¡± Martin asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± was all I said as I stepped slowly back up to the edge.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Martin asked with concern.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted. ¡°It¡¯s been happening lately. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s setting it off.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Martin filed it away in his thoughts. I knew he¡¯d bring it up again later. ¡°I need you here for this. Are you going to be able to control yourself around them?¡± Martin doubted the safety of the Chasse family after witnessing my lack of control.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine! I have it under control,¡± I assured him.

    Then, all of the Chasse family, and Patrick, moved into various positions around one of the buildings on the other side of the compound. They entered the building at different points, spreading out in three different attack squads.

    ¡°Why are they going so fast?¡± I asked. ¡°They never rush into anything like this.¡± I knew their tactics.

    ¡°They¡¯re protecting the others. Zeke wanted to go hunt immediately. Nothing would stop him, and they were going on the hunt. They wouldn¡¯t be reasoned with, so Carter and everyone else felt like they had to accompany them to keep them safe. They shouldn¡¯t be here,¡± Martin explained.

    ¡°Why are they so aggressive as humans?¡± Alex asked. ¡°If they get in a situation where they are outnumbered, then all of those guns won¡¯t matter. Vampires will just swarm them.¡±

    They all entered a blocky building with many levels of windows. They were out of sight, and I couldn¡¯t protect them from the roof.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Martin agreed.

    We all ran and jumped in different strides, rocketing to the next closest roof, and leapfrogging over the gaps as we closed in on the hunter-filled structure. We were on an adjacent roof, hiding our forms behind the cover of an exhaust vent as we watched through windows for our friends. That¡¯s when I saw them.

    There inside of the expansive fourth story was a group of what smelled to be vampires. There were so many of them, and they were surrounding a group of only four young human kids who were blindfolded, crying, and helpless. All this¡­ for four? It couldn¡¯t be just to feed¡­

    They were all spread out sporadically throughout the level, surrounding the bound children. They all looked dirty like they had been crawling across the city, down every alley from where they had been taken from. There were two girls and two boys in the middle of the red-eyed demons. They needed help.

    In only moments, the hunters exploded into the vampire-infested level. This wasn¡¯t like any hunt I had ever seen with them. The hunters broke through doors in waves. The first group that came through was Frank, Clara, and Arthur. They had knives and machetes in their hands, all silver. They rushed over to the alert and now feral vampires that were keen on protecting their captive food.

    Then, right before the three close combat hunters met with the closest of the inhuman creatures, Eleanor, Kayla, Patrick, and Autumn all blasted through a door on the far side of the room. They came in hot, sending some kind of projectile into the central area of the massive enclosure.

    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± Martin said quickly.

    I only squinted as the flare went off. It was a bright burning pyrotechnic that was putting off some kind of smoke throughout the room.

    ¡°Is that silver?¡± Alex asked Martin in true surprise.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he answered. ¡°The Chasse family is very well equipped, and they have many ways to fight our kind. However, it appears that if we go in to help them, then we too will be weakened.¡±

    Not me. I wouldn¡¯t be affected. I was still ready and willing to send myself flying through the windows.

    The burning light flared, and smoke curled like toxic tendrils in the enclosed room, thick and suffocating. The vampires stumbled back, hissing and shielding their eyes, their once fluid movements now reduced to frantic flails. That¡¯s when the third group breached. Carter, Wayland, and Zeke stormed in with brutal efficiency, their mid-range firepower cutting through the haze as they picked off stragglers with sharp bursts, aiming for the heart, the head, and anything that would send these creatures back to the dark.

    But the first team was already deep in carnage. Frank and Arthur tore into the leeches without hesitation, their eyes blazing with a vicious, reckless fury. They looked like they¡¯d stepped straight out of a grimy eighty¡¯s slasher flick, wielding machetes with ruthless abandon. The sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone echoed violently, vampires howling as limbs were severed, and torsos split open. Blood sprayed across the walls, dark and thick, as Frank¡¯s blade ripped through a vampire¡¯s spine, sending its body convulsing to the ground. Arthur swung wide, his machete cleaving through the neck of another, the head rolling away in a mess of tangled hair and crimson.

    Clara was a force of her own, a powerhouse of muscle and precision that moved with calculated flow and efficiency. Her large, muscular frame twisted and struck with ferocity, taking down nearly as many vampires as the two men combined. She fought with a vicious rhythm, her silver knife gleaming as it plunged into undead flesh, tearing through hearts and skulls in quick, brutal succession. She dispatched one vampire with a savage twist, its eyes wide in stunned horror as she sent it to its second grave. Then she seamlessly moved to the next, a whirlwind of raw power and relentless aggression. She was a fighter born for this; ruthless, efficient, and utterly unstoppable in the face of the undead. All three of them fought without hesitation or fear.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Carter, Zeke, and Wayland all had silenced weapons that I knew were loaded with silver hollow points. They weren¡¯t there for anything other than to kill vampires. Martin was right¡­ this hunt was more aggressive compared to the usual calculated hunt.

    A few panicked vampires tore away from the bloodbath, limbs flailing as they scrambled for the exit near Autumn and Eleanor. One snarl cut through the chaos as a vampire, eyes wild and feral, leaped toward them, its claws bared and thirsting for blood. It was barely ten feet away when Autumn pulled the trigger of her silenced rifle. The bullet punched through the vampire¡¯s skull with a sickening crack, blood and brain matter splattering the walls as it collapsed in a twitching heap.

    But the chaos only intensified. More vampires rushed at her in a rabid frenzy, a blur of teeth and claws that filled the air with desperate, inhuman screeches. Autumn, Eleanor, and Kayla moved with cold precision, their shots chirping in quick, rhythmic bursts. Each bullet found its mark, tearing through flesh, shattering bones, and painting the walls and floor with a fresh coat of crimson. They moved like a well-oiled machine, each shot timed perfectly, flowing with the brutal dance of combat. But Patrick lagged, his shots erratic and frantic. His aim was shaky, bullets ricocheting off walls and sending splinters of wood and concrete flying. He was hitting the targets¡­ most of the time, but his shots lacked the deadly finesse of the hunters. It was painfully clear they were covering his mistakes, dragging him along in the bloody whirlwind.

    Then, three vampires charged Autumn at once, their faces twisted in fury and hunger. Her rifle clicked, jamming at the worst possible moment. Panic flickered across her face as her mother and cousin¡¯s bullets whizzed past, blowing the brains out of two of the assailants. One vampire¡¯s head exploded like a ripe melon, chunks of flesh and shards of bone spraying across the room. The other fell with a shriek, its skull caving under the relentless barrage of gunfire.

    But the third vampire was too fast. Patrick fired wildly, his bullets tearing through the rafters above in a spray of wood and sparks, missing the mark entirely. The vampire lunged, closing the distance in a flash, claws slashing toward Autumn.

    I jerked forward to run, sprinting like a fucking wild man across the roof. I was going in, and I was going to rip that vampire into two separate pieces. Yet, as soon as I took a few steps, the monster squeezed my insides. It brought me to my knees again, my momentum slamming and dragging my face across the graveled roof.

    I pried my face up from the hard surface to see Autumn. In an instant, Autumn tossed her rifle as she sidestepped the incoming supernatural, pulling a more extended version of her normal silver blade from her side. She sliced through the vampire¡¯s neck with a flash of skill, silver glinting as the blade followed through to the end of her swing. It fell to its knees as soon as she recovered from her swipe, its head flopping off backward to hang from the body. Only a few strands of flesh kept it from totally falling off. Blood ran down its torso before falling over completely, painting itself in death.

    As I lay on the roof in sheer agony, my insides twisting and contorting as I truly saw them for the first time. Everything I had seen and learned from the hunters up until that point was merely stories and theory. I had never been on a true hunt with them¡­ not like this.

    The only time I had ever seen the Chasses hunt any kind of creature was the first night I met them, and when they were surprised by Mercy. I had never seen them in their prime of battle. But this¡­ this was something else altogether. They moved with precision, they never slowed, and they took no prisoners.

    Autumn had said it once before¡­ a long time ago, ¡®We don¡¯t leave any survivors.¡¯

    The Chasses were more than I thought. They were far more than hunters picking off stragglers in the dark. They were a force against them. It was more than I had ever seen normal humans to be. It was probably one of the most shocking things I had discovered in this new life.

    The night they went to fight Mercy and Phineas, they were ambushed and taken out before a fight could even happen. I began to wonder¡­ did Mercy fear them? At their full strength, using all their skills, techniques, and weapons¡­ could they have fought Phineas and won? I started to think it might have been possible. Why else would Mercy have frozen them in place as she did?

    After witnessing the slaughter by my adoptive family, I realized something. The Chasse family was not as helpless as I had always worried. They were trained killers, every single one of them. Even Autumn¡­ even Eleanor.

    I pulled myself from the ground, Martin steadying me with a grip. The beast relinquished its control for the moment.

    ¡°Sam, what is going on? Is something happening to you?¡± Martin asked urgently.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I shook my head, calming myself once Arthur had slung his machete right into the skull of the last moving vampire.

    Frank and Arthur were grinning at each other as they claimed victory. They raised their bloodied fists and bumped them together. All of the combatants that went hand to hand were drenched in blood from the slaughter. Everyone else was clean, except for Autumn. She had a spray of blood that stained her shirt from the vampire that got too close. Patrick was dirty, but only because he tripped over backward as he fired into the creatures of the night. Kayla was laughing at him, lending him a helping hand. She said something to him that I didn¡¯t catch, and then she slapped his ass aggressively.

    ¡°Kayla!¡± he yelled at her, annoyed that she was always pestering him. He was a little embarrassed at his inept skill, especially in front of, and compared to, Autumn.

    Kayla laughed in his face, while Autumn hid her smile from the entertainment of his clumsy awkwardness in a fight.

    If I could describe my new friends in one word, it would be¡­ deadly. The speed, the coordination, the skill¡­ they were trained to the highest degree. I thought of them differently now. Stronger. It made me feel like I didn¡¯t have to worry so much about their safety.

    I was monitoring them all carefully, scanning the floor for any movement from a vampire that clung to life. I was so focused on their safety, and distracted by my internal issues, that I didn¡¯t sense anything else.

    ¡°Something else is coming,¡± Alex warned.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Martin spat, repositioning himself on the roof. ¡°There are sublevels that lead to caves right beneath this place. That¡¯s how they¡¯re getting in.¡±

    ¡°What,¡± my attention shot back to Martin. ¡°Where? Who¡¯s getting in?¡±

    Alex and Martin were bounding to the other side of the roof, ¡°I don¡¯t know who, or what they are, but they¡¯re not friendly. If I remember right, this brewery is positioned right on top of a cave system that is very close to a tunnel. That tunnel goes into the pits.¡±

    ¡°The pits?¡± I asked quickly as I chased them to the other side of the roof. ¡°Like where Mercy and Phineas came from?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Martin answered stressfully. ¡°Alex, we¡¯ve got to get in there. We¡¯ll need your help. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s coming, but you¡¯ll tip the odds.¡±

    We looked into the fourth floor, where the family was untying the captured human souls. They were trying to calm and lead the kids to safety. They had no idea what was coming.

    ¡°We can get to the base level and head them off there,¡± Martin said as he took a few steps back, preparing to leap from the roof to the ground floor.

    Alex and I mirrored his movements, ready to dive down from the great height and kill the beasts that clawed up from the pits. I had many questions, like why were these people being held here? For what reason? Who was behind it, and why were they taking so many people, especially kids?

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I urged. None of the Chasses knew what was coming. An unknown threat was rapidly climbing toward them from below, and they weren¡¯t ready. They were occupied with the children they had just saved. They were so small, cold, and shaking on the dark and bloody floor.

    I took a step forward, ready to make the jump with the two vampires, and then I felt my legs give out. I fell forward into the rough surface of the roof, scraping some skin from my face as I skidded to a stop. The pain twisted and flexed my body into strange positions as the monster tortured me from within. This was the worst pain yet.

    They both stopped abruptly as I faceplanted in agony.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Martin said hurriedly, feeling the pressure of the incoming threat closing in on our friends below.

    ¡°Martin, what¡¯s wrong with him,¡± Alex asked with slight concern as I twisted in pain on the roof.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said, torn with what to do.

    I couldn¡¯t think straight as I writhed in pain. The monster took control of my voice and lungs, keeping me silent and unable to breathe. I twisted and flexed on the ground as Martin and Alex watched, unable to help me.

    ¡°Alex, come on. We¡¯ll leave him for now. We have to get down there,¡± Martin said as he stood from his crouching position above me.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she agreed, but she had questions. Martin still hadn¡¯t told her everything about me, and this only added to the oddities of my existence in her mind.

    I saw them run and leap from the side of the roof while I painfully gritted my teeth, feeling the burning of my lungs as they begged for oxygen. The two vampires fell below my line of sight and were gone.

    I was alone on the roof. The intensity of the pain never relented, actually growing in its potency. I felt like the monster would literally rip me to pieces as it fought for a way out. I just lay in the dark, unable to move. Unable to break free. All I could do was be still and endure the fire burning me from within.

    Then, I felt a pulse of something else. It was far more potent than the pain and torment that imprisoned me inside of my body. The force that was pinning me to the ground was blasted away like dust in the wind. As soon as the pain was gone, I heard the voice.

    ¡°Fall,¡± it was the being¡­ speaking to me. This wasn¡¯t a vision.

    The night sky vanished, and I was ripped from the world of the living.

    <hr>

    ¡°Wake up,¡± I heard a monotone voice order me from my sleep.

    My eyes shot open at the same time I sucked in a sharp breath, ready to bolt from the roof and save my friends from the incoming assault. Then, I realized I was somewhere else. I was in a dark forest, the sky completely blacked out from the canopy above. The leaves were only at the top of long trunks of ancient growths, grey and thick. These trees formed a forest of what resembled bones protruding from the earth. The leaves were almost black, with maybe the tiniest hint of purple in those shadows. A light fog floated a few inches from the leafy forest floor. The only light that penetrated the depths of this place came from somewhere far in the distance, between the great trees. Shadows hung so densely in that place that I could almost feel them.

    I jumped from the ground, looking for anything that made sense. I turned and saw someone that scared the shit out of me. Once I saw his face, I knew what this was. A few feet away from me, standing against a tree, was Jon.

    ¡°Jon,¡± I said perplexed. ¡°I thought you were¡­ how are you¡­¡± I had too many questions, and everything was confusing. ¡°What is this place? Where am I?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re in the fields, just beyond the place you¡¯ve seen. This is where you were changed.¡± Jon spoke strangely, different than the last time I saw him.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°I was in Texas when it happened¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you were taken. I brought you here to give you my power. This is where the beast in you was first created,¡± Jon spoke calmly, but something was different. ¡°That¡¯s why you woke up in a different place. When I sent you back after the transition was complete, I sent you far away. It was far enough that you¡¯d have time to undergo your first transformation without consequences.¡±

    I was unsure what his words meant at that moment, but I was frantic. ¡°Why am I here? I need to get back¡­ my friends are in trouble. I was about to help them, but then,¡± I remembered the agony on the roof. ¡°Something is happening to me. I don¡¯t know what, or why it¡¯s happening now, but I¡¯m losing control. The monster keeps trying to come out, and it¡¯s getting stronger. I can barely keep it inside.¡±

    ¡°You are getting stronger, but that¡¯s not the reason for what is happening to you. Someone is trying to kill you, or at least disable you when needed. They are poking and prodding the monster as they try and figure out a way that will work. They are trying to figure out what you are. The beast is getting agitated, lashing out at the unseen forces that are attacking it. They are getting closer to a power that will work against you. They most likely think that they succeeded tonight. You have to figure out who it is and stop them before they get too powerful,¡± Jon spoke plainly. ¡°This is why I pulled you here fully, not just your mind. This person thinks they know how strong you are and is trying to take you out before they are revealed.¡±

    ¡°Fully?¡± I asked, latching onto a small detail in his words.

    ¡°This is only the second time you have been here. I had to bring you here physically to change you, and now to cut you off from the power that was binding you. All the other times I have merely pulled your mind to this place,¡± Jon explained. ¡°Your attacker is growing powerful¡­ tied in with something¡­ old.¡±

    I had many questions about what he had just revealed, and this location, but I knew more important things were afoot. ¡°Who is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re hidden, cloaked behind the power that they¡¯re channeling,¡± Jon seemed different as he continued. Then I noticed his eyes, they were different than the last time I saw him; darker, and cold with no emotion.

    ¡°Jon¡­ what happened to you? I thought you got to pass on and be with your family,¡± I said as I remembered the last time I saw him. He was walking off into the horizon with the cloaked figure that commanded us both.

    He looked at me for a few seconds, silently. He never blinked the entire time I had been speaking with him. ¡°I am not Jon.¡±

    As soon as he said the words, his eyes went entirely black. I felt a tingle spread through my face as I realized what it meant. Then, something from within him was unfurled and spread out in the forest like it was the air itself. There was a ringing in my ears that was deafening, and it made everything go hazy. My vision blurred as the vibrating hum shook my organs and cells. It felt like an eternity would pass as I was trapped in his will. I was locked in place by the dominating power, or maybe it was fear¡­

    Then, it stopped. His eyes returned to the previous cold version, and the power was tucked away from where it came. I stood in silence once I could think straight and see clearly.

    ¡°I chose this form since it is familiar to you, in this place. I cannot present myself to you yet, you¡¯re not ready. This is just what I am allowing you to see, so we can communicate in a way you can understand.¡±

    I had so many questions¡­ where did I start?

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked eagerly.

    ¡°No,¡± was all he said. ¡°You¡¯re not ready for that.¡±

    ¡°What am I?¡± I asked next.

    ¡°You have to figure that out for yourself. When you make it there on your own, you will be able to accept what that is, and what it means,¡± he said.

    ¡°Why? Why can¡¯t you just tell me?¡± I asked. Then I was scared I was getting too comfortable in my speaking with him. I felt what he could do to me if he wanted.

    ¡°I know how it happens. I¡¯ve seen it countless times. Jon asked the same questions¡­ as did the ones before. I give the same answers. This is how it has to be for you to become what you¡¯re meant for,¡± he spoke with no leniency. The words he spoke might as well have been etched into stone. There was only one way. He did give me a little more. "We are restricted by binding. Rules were placed long ago. Things must be done a certain way."

    I was silent for a moment, thinking about all the questions I had, and which ones he was more likely to answer.

    ¡°Is everything Jon told me true, or was it a lie to get me to take this¡­ life?¡± I asked.

    His look never changed, and neither did his monotonous voice, ¡°You had the choice, and you made it yourself. Whether I saw that or not, changed nothing. You are what you are because I chose you, you survived, and then you decided to remain. Every person before you was given the same path. Some chose to return to their lives; others chose death.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s Jon?¡± I asked, worried for my predecessor. Where had he gone?

    ¡°He has moved on. He is at peace.¡±

    I nodded, thankfully. I had a surprising worry and protectiveness for the real Jon. The short time I knew him I must have gotten attached. I think living this life for the time I had, gave me a glimpse into what his long centuries were like, and I wanted him to have his peace. I was glad he found it. I was hoping I too would one day find what Jon had gained. I wanted to be with my family¡­ all of them. Maybe one day, when I got to rest, both of my families could meet each other. Vicky and Autumn could meet, Carter and Eleanor could meet my parents, and I could be reunited with my brother, Seth. Maybe¡­ I could see Caydee. We¡¯d be happy.

    ¡°What should I call you?¡± I asked, knowing my time in the shadowed forest was coming to an end.

    ¡°For now, call me Jon. This is how I will appear to you,¡± he informed. Then he reminded me, ¡°This isn¡¯t like when I show you a vision and give you the name. I cannot see the person that is doing this to you. They have yet to tip the balance, and they are being hidden by something much older than anything you have learned of yet. They are using powers from another place. Powers that can only be gained by acts that will throw off the balance eventually. You are on the right track with this your friends, stay on this trail,¡± he spoke hard. ¡°And Sam,¡± he stepped forward, ¡°there are powers in this world that you wouldn¡¯t believe. Both natural and unnatural powers that defy human logic. Watch out for them. Some can trap you in ways you couldn¡¯t imagine. There are places like the fields, other planes, or dimensions that you can be lost to, and since you cannot die, it would be perpetual torment. I cannot step in and save you all the time. You must continue to grow in strength. Be on guard and keep your secret close.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°I will.¡± But then I had another question present itself in my thoughts. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you given me anyone? It was nonstop for a long time, but now¡­ nothing?¡±

    The being disguised as Jon stared at me blankly before answering, ¡°You are where I need you. Breaking Allen Chasse away from the power that cursed him started what is happening now. We are making moves, we are hunting. Only, this is prey that has remained hidden from the world for a very long time. This will take time. You are just now feeling the first tendrils of its power.¡±

    In those few moments in the forest just beyond the Fields, I felt new confusion and a feeling of powerlessness from the entity¡­ Jon, I guess I¡¯d call him. Before, I felt like I was being lied to, and played like a fiddle. Now, I knew that this was just absolutely beyond my scope of understanding. I was a part of something¡­ something I still didn¡¯t have a single fucking clue about. Even when I thought I was free, between the names and visions, I was exactly where it wanted me. Now there was some other thing. Something that my entity was hunting; something so old that the world had forgotten it¡­

    What the fuck was I supposed to do?

    ¡°You¡¯ll return right where I took you. You will find the one that¡¯s attacking you,¡± he told me as fact. ¡°You¡¯ll have to be fast if you want to catch them before they disappear again. The power they have been granted will allow for many new things you have yet to experience.¡±

    I just listened and nodded into his powerful gaze.

    ¡°Trust the power I have given you. It will protect the things you hold dear and guide you to where you need to go¡­ as it did with Allen,¡± Jon said, giving me an insight into what I was capable of. ¡°Now, prepare yourself.¡± He closed the distance between us in the skeleton-like trees of the forest, his eyes blackened, his power unrestrained, shaking the very shadows of the forest.

    ¡°Rise.¡±

    White light overtook my vision, and I was gone.

 Chapter 42 - Trap (Carter)

    Getting the kids out of the building took priority. They were in shock. Whatever happened to them since they¡¯d been taken, and our abrupt entrance of gunfire and slaughter put all four of them into a state. We carefully, but hurriedly got them away from the gore that filled the room.

    We made a call to Detective Ames and hid them outside of the bloodied area. We left them with Patrick since he wasn¡¯t too keen on returning inside with the rest of us. Plus, we couldn¡¯t leave the kids alone. We figured all the fighting was over and the rest would just be clean up. Patrick didn¡¯t have the stomach for that. The rest of us regrouped to deal with the bodies and see what we could find while we waited for Ames to show up. We should have moved quicker.

    They were on us almost as soon as we had finished piling the bodies. They came from somewhere within the building. I wasn¡¯t sure how they had gotten the jump on us so quickly. Two figures entered the bloodied floor in a vicious and wild manner, seeming more animal than anything else. They were naked humanoid beings of flesh and blood, but their skin looked like it was made of white ash. They had no hair to speak of only bald pasty bodies. Their blood-red eyes contrasted greatly with their skin. They appeared in a doorway across from me in the dark room, about twenty yards away.

    ¡°Arthur¡­ Frank,¡± I yelled for assistance. These two vampires were foreign to me. I¡¯d never seen or read about anything like them. Their eyes were the only clue to what they were. Where had they come from?

    My brother and cousin ran up behind me, dropping the shredded body of a dead vampire as soon as they saw what had arrived.

    ¡°Regroup!¡± I ordered, slightly pressing my earpiece.

    It was only moments before we were all back in our tight unit, waiting for the unexpected attack.

    One of the sheet white beings stepped forward to us slowly. It had jaggs of yellowish teeth that snarled and hissed as it approached. It sniffed the air in sharp gasps, jerking its head in strange directions as it inspected the area. Its head snapped back and forth, taking stock of every human in the vicinity. It was coming for one thing¡­ to kill us all.

    The first ashen beast took off towards us in a blur. Luckily, Kayla had already hurled a packet of silver particulate into the highest reaches of the rafters, between us and the monsters. The silver dust sprinkled down into the air as an unescapable poison for the creatures. When the pale-skinned creature hit the cloud of silver, it was like his legs turned to noodles. The silver had a tremendous effect on him, much more powerful than the usual reaction of a typical vampire. Hisses and squeals painfully escaped the once-human creature as it flopped around on the hard floor. Its agony was so unbearable to watch that Arthur only let it go for about three seconds.

    Arthur pulled the silver-loaded revolver from his hip and pointed it right at the thing¡¯s skull. He looked at it for a moment, comparing it to his vast knowledge base, and then committing it to memory for future study. Arthur pulled the trigger mercilessly. The blast was deafening inside of the well-contained room. The gunfire reverberated around the area with concussive force. Blood and brain matter spread out in an instant across the floor, back towards the other pale figure.

    The second foul beast snarled through the millions of dust particles, baring his teeth at us. It was angry and hungry, ready to attack and consume every beating heart in the room. It had no sympathy for its fellow creature, only riled up from the additional fresh blood that just spilled across the floor. It was crouching, ready to explode from its stance and close the distance on us.

    Then, the glass windows beside the beast were destroyed as two figures came onto the scene in a blur. One silhouette had red hair and very little in the way of clothing. She pinned the pasty creature to the wall in a thunderous crash and sunk her teeth in. They fought and struggled up against the wall, battling for dominance as the flowing red hair sucked the life from this unnamed creature.

    The second shadow that came crashing through the glass had a familiar face. He stopped right beside me, halting my gun as it rose to a point in his face. He was lucky he was faster than me since my trigger finger was already primed from these two strange creatures.

    ¡°Hold on, Carter,¡± Martin spoke in a rush. ¡°We¡¯re here to help.¡±

    ¡°For fucks sake, Martin,¡± Frank exhaled the stress of the moment, lowering his raised machete. ¡°Who is that?¡± he asked, pointing his bloodied blade towards the one still pinning the pale-skinned creature to the wall.

    ¡°Alex?¡± I assumed.

    ¡°Correct,¡± Martin nodded. ¡°We were monitoring you from outside and could hear these two coming.¡±

    ¡°Is she gonna be okay?¡± I asked, eyeing the mysterious Alex I had heard so little about.

    Martin spoke of Alex to me before, assuring me it would be safe with her around. I eyed her curiously as she still pinned the unknown creature to the blood-stained wall by its neck, sucking the life force from the struggling creature. I eased the hammer of my pistol.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine around all of you. It¡¯s easy for her to resist humans. She only craves one thing.¡± He looked back to his fellow vampire as she continued to overpower this strange breed with her superior strength.

    ¡°So, this is Martin,¡± Zeke said as he cautiously walked up to my old friend.

    ¡°You must be Zeke,¡± Martin returned. ¡°Carter has spoken very highly of you.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t, Martin was just playing the game. Trying to ease the situation wherever possible. He knew Zeke had pretty solid boundaries when it came to monsters. He barely tolerated Frank and Jane, and the Talbots have been with our family for generations.

    ¡°So, you don¡¯t kill humans, huh?¡± Zeke prodded him. Arthur even looked intrigued from back behind Frank.

    ¡°No. However, now isn¡¯t the time for introductions.¡± Martin looked back to his vampire companion. ¡°Alex, enough. I can hear more coming.¡±

    Alex pulled off from the white-skinned creature slowly, dropping him from her grasp. She had pinned him to the wall with his feet off the ground. When she let go, his body dropped straight to the ground like a crumpled bag of sticks. Whatever it was¡­ it was dead. Alex pulled back to face us. Her entire face, from the tip of her nose down, was covered in blood. The crimson fluid trailed down her chest, creeping over the plunging neckline to a point near the middle of her shirt. Her eyes were a deeper red version of the average vampire.

    ¡°Did she just feed¡­ off of another creature?¡± Arthur spoke aloud.

    ¡°Yes, but as I said, more are coming. We don¡¯t have the time,¡± Martin reiterated. He seemed to panic. What could he sense?

    Feet were moving in all directions. I started to hear the sound of people¡­ or things running around the floors above and below us.

    ¡°Carter¡­¡± Eleanor urged me, ¡°We need to move!¡±

    ¡°We fuckin¡¯ fight,¡± Zeke exclaimed.

    ¡°We need a plan, Zeke. If we stay, we could get overwhelmed. We didn¡¯t plan for this; ten vampires tops, that¡¯s what we agreed on. If it was anything more, we said we¡¯d bail,¡± I urged my cousin to reconsider. He had to stop. We all knew it was suicide to stay and fight when we were surrounded from above and below. In that moment, part of me wished we wouldn¡¯t have come to protect them.

    It was too late. The commotion I heard from the floor below us had found the stairs and made it through the entry to our location. Six more bloodthirsty vampires had made their way to us from somewhere in the depths of the old brewery. They were not like the two pasty bastards that we had just seen destroyed. These were your run-of-the-mill fledglings. They were newly made and inexperienced, so we had an advantage. We were running low on ammo, silver flares, packets, and all our tools to even the playing field.

    I wasn¡¯t sure what happened with the commotion from above. Whatever was moving up there had stopped.

    When it started, Martin and Alex became blurs of blood, slashing and biting through a vampire each, taking two bloodsuckers from the equation. Martin smacked his target into a wall with tremendous power, while Alex leaped on her prey in a vicious feeding frenzy. This was the first time I had seen her in action. I knew she was an anthropophagous vampire, but I had never seen one active, in person like this. There wasn¡¯t much written about them in our bestiaries either.

    The rest of us started firing. Clara, Frank, and Arthur were already primed for battle, still covered in blood from the slaughter before. They jumped back into the mix as soon as it kicked off again. Unfortunately, most of the silver dust had settled on the concrete floor and wasn¡¯t as effective for this wave. Even with these vampires being only fractionally weakened, they all three held their own. Their thirst for battle fueled them to keep going, even when exhausted. We called them our ¡°berserkers.¡± Fear and doubt never clouded their minds when they fought like this. Frank and Clara both achieved this ability when we were younger, being able to maintain a sense of calm in the face of impending doom; to fight smarter, harder, and longer than the rest of us. I could never quiet my mind like they could. We weren¡¯t all like that, but I was glad we had three family members who found that iron-like will for situations just like this.

    Once it kicked off, we couldn¡¯t fire our guns to just mow them down since our family members were intertwined with the creatures. Yet, Autumn was a crack shot and put the sixth one into the ground with a headshot from her rifle. I thought she had tossed it earlier, but she was a warrior, and she knew her weapons well. She must have retrieved it in the battle and cleared the jam already. She was trained well.

    Even without our usual preparedness, in only minutes, we had dispatched the six vampires that had rushed us on the fourth floor. Clara, Frank, and Arthur breathed heavily as they put the last of their vampires into an eternal dirt nap. They were tired and worn out from fighting and defending against the superior strength and speed of the creatures. If they didn¡¯t have their silver blades, then we surely would have been in trouble. Their clothes, arms, and bladed weapons were slick with the inhuman blood of the vampires. Clara and Arthur took a knee outside of a growing pool of crimson blood. Frank sat against the wall at the edge of the room as he tried to catch his breath.

    Zeke let out a laugh in the settling carnage, ¡°Nothing like a good fight to clear the senses.¡± He applauded us, too cocky and overconfident, in my opinion. His attitude was reckless and dangerous. If it wasn¡¯t for Martin and Alex, he¡¯d probably be one of these vampire¡¯s fucking juice box right now.

    I clenched my fist and walked over to him; I had it cocked and ready to lay his ass out. He forced our hand to come here and protect him, his daughter, and his brother whom he endangered continuously.

    Right as I stepped up to shatter his fucking glass jaw, there was a loud crash above us. It shook the entire ceiling, rattling dust from overhead. Then, the feet started moving again. We all shot our eyes to the sky, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, and then prepare for the next wave.

    A roar broke out across the fifth floor that shook the windows of the fourth. It was a loud earsplitting growl that took the originator''s full breath. It wasn¡¯t a threat, or for a show, it was made from rage. The feet scurried faster and harder across the floor. We could hear them running in furious patterns above us. I didn¡¯t know what to make of it. Then a wet thud shook the whole ceiling above our heads, then another, and a third. I could feel the vibrations of the thunderous crashes on the floor of our level. It was powerful. The third crash cracked the dividing material that was our ceiling, and the floor of the next level. A crack of light peered through the gap for only a moment, and then it was replaced with oozing blood. It dripped to our floor ominously.

    ¡°What was going on up there?¡± Kayla asked shakily, trying to maintain her composure.

    The feet had been running down the ladder well across the room from us. That¡¯s when we decided to bolt.

    ¡°This place is much more than it appears,¡± Martin thought aloud as he guarded our flank.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I ordered. ¡°Other side, other side,¡± I urged my family to follow me down away from the substantial threat above. There were two ladder wells on each side of this part of the building, and we all ran into the safe side¡¯s exit.

    Nobody argued, not even Martin or Alex, they all fell in line to fight with us until we got to safety. Then I realized our problem; all the kidnapped children were just outside, still waiting to be rescued. It had only been a few minutes since we had left them with Patrick. We couldn¡¯t let them be exposed to whatever was coming for us. We had to face them; otherwise, the kids outside wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    When we hit the first floor, we turned inside the building and charged forward to the exit. As soon as we came to the ground level, all the vampires came pouring out of the other side. They were wild and chaotic, sprinting straight at us in the large section of the first level. They were hard to predict, but we had to kill them before they found their captives just outside. It was going to be a bloodbath.

    Then, something strange happened. The vampires tried to keep running past us. When I met with the first vampire, he saw me coming and ducked my swinging blade, dodging the attack and leaving me wide open. The weird part was, when he could have counterattacked, he just kept running. None of them were attacking us¡­ they were only running. Then I noticed the fear in their eyes¡­ every single one of them. They weren¡¯t running to kill the humans we saved, or us¡­ they were fleeing.

    Even though they tried to evade our attacks, we didn¡¯t let them just escape. As their crowd interlaced with our own, we cut them down as fast as we could. There were only four of them stomping through the brewery, but their speed and strength made it sound like a lot more. Two were taken out; one by Eleanor¡¯s rifle, and the other by the swing of Arthur¡¯s machete. Two down two to go.

    Then, down the shadowy corridors of the first floor, more vampires erupted out of a hole in the cement floor. It was carved out, leading straight into the black void beneath the earth. There were probably ten more of them, all red-eyed and gnashing teeth. What had we stumbled upon? Why were there so many here around these human captives?

    One of them got the jump on Clara. It sped up to her so fast that she had no time to react as we entered the space. The beast had her by the neck and was holding her feet off of the ground. He had dark brown hair and looked to be in his late twenties. However, he was probably much older than that, being a vampire.

    ¡°Back the fuck up,¡± he spat at us, squeezing Clara¡¯s throat with increasing pressure.

    Everyone stopped fighting. The vampires that still lived rushed to the other side of the building to their leader who held Clara. We all froze in place also.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Wayland barked at him. ¡°Just wait.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, hunter. None of you will make it out of here,¡± he squeezed harder again. Clara¡¯s legs kicked as she squealed, gasping for air under the grip of the vampire.

    I didn¡¯t know what to do. I locked up¡­ frozen. I looked around to see my whole family, still ready to fight and save my sister, but we wouldn¡¯t be fast enough. We were outmatched and outnumbered. We had no more silver bombs.

    Wayland choked out, ¡°Clara!¡± He stepped towards the vampire, feeling the adrenaline surging.

    ¡°Fitz! Is that you?¡± Martin yelled at the creature.

    ¡°Martin?¡± the vampire loosened his claws around Clara¡¯s neck, just barely. ¡°What are you doing here? Did he contact you?¡± Then, his eyes peered through the darkness of the area to our group. When his sight passed over the strange vampire positioned with us, he eyed Alex intently.

    ¡°Fitz, we have to leave¡­¡± a young vampire urged. Trying to get the attention of the one holding Clara¡¯s life in his hand.

    ¡°Silence!¡± Fitz spat at the cowering fledgling. The younger vampire obeyed his order.

    ¡°Listen to me, Fitz. You don¡¯t understand what¡¯s going on here, old friend. I need you to set her down¡­ NOW!¡± Martin tried to command this old acquaintance.

    Fitz¡¯s red eyes grew irritated, ¡°No one sent for you¡­ did they?¡± He looked around to his horde of vampires. ¡°It¡¯s been a while, Martin, but I remember your weakness from before. You''re protecting these humans, aren¡¯t you¡­ both of you?¡± He eyed Alex as he bared his teeth at us.

    ¡°Fitz¡­¡± another newborn tried to signal their leader.

    ¡°I said, SILENCE!¡± Fitz berated the vampires. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with you a lot after this is over.¡± He shook his head at his cohorts, ¡°Running from hunters¡­ how pathetic. Get up, and prepare yourselves,¡± he ordered.

    Then, Fitz looked down like he heard something beside him. He looked to his side slightly and then back to us.

    ¡°Bring me the one outside¡­ the Wicklow,¡± Fitz motioned to the door of our intended escape. ¡°He won¡¯t die yet¡­ we¡¯ll take him someplace special.¡±

    In only a few moments, a vampire ripped the exterior doors open, bringing in a yelping Patrick. He held him in his grip, Patrick¡¯s toes barely scraping the ground as the bloodsucker manhandled him. Where were the kids? What the fuck happened out there? Were they still alive? It felt like a rock plummeted to the bottom of my stomach as I thought about their fate.

    I looked over to Patrick, who looked like he¡¯d gone numb to his situation, staring blankly into the air in front of him. I saw him swallow hard as he struggled in fear. Autumn and Kayla half raised their weapons, unsure of what to do.

    Wayland, however, took steps towards Fitz, alongside Martin and Alex. They were prepared to move on him, quickly. They knew Clara didn¡¯t have much more time, being held by the neck as she was. She couldn¡¯t breathe, and she was struggling.

    ¡°Enough,¡± a calm voice spoke through the darkness, followed by the sound of approaching feet.

    We all investigated the shadows behind Fitz to see a man walking up from the darkness. He walked slowly and confidently as his figure eased into the little light there was inside the building. The vampires around that side of the building moved and kept their distance from him as he paced nearer. They seemed¡­ afraid of the newcomer.

    When the man came into the light, I saw his face. I had never seen him before¡­ and he looked human. He had straight black hair that was parted perfectly in a line on his left side. He appeared very well-groomed and was dressed in a plain-looking suit that didn¡¯t look very expensive. His tall and lanky form stepped up beside Fitz, staring at us all wide-eyed and excited. Something wasn¡¯t right about him.

    ¡°You all might want to listen to Fitz here if you want this beautiful young lady to still have a throat to breathe out of,¡± he smiled as he spoke. ¡°She is quite the physical specimen, isn¡¯t she,¡± he eyed Clara with a disgusting smile as she struggled to breathe, ¡°Strong!¡± He looked at Martin and Alex as they stood in front of our family like supernatural guardians. ¡°Ah¡­ it seems he is finally taken care of!¡± He was happy about something.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Eleanor asked in disgust, her eyes darting back and forth between the creepy man and Clara. ¡°What are you doing with all of these people? Why are you taking them?¡±

    He smiled through his perfectly straight white teeth, ¡°Don¡¯t hate what you don¡¯t understand. I needed them for something. But you took them from me. Maybe I should just take all of you instead. An even trade¡­¡± he grinned devilishly at his own words. ¡°This will be¡­ very poetic,¡± he smiled. ¡°You really can¡¯t write this stuff. It¡¯s like fate has presented your family to me on a silver platter.¡±

    Wayland had tears running down his face as he yelled at them, ¡°Please¡­ put her down.¡± He was shaking with anger¡­ and fear of losing his wife.

    ¡°You heard the man, Fitz. Put¡­ her¡­ down,¡± he urged, insinuating something much more sinister.

    Fitz¡¯s eyes grew hungry, eyeing Clara¡¯s neck as she faded in and out of consciousness from his ironlike grip. His eyes pulsed blood into his irises right as his fangs lengthened.

    Alex and Martin roared and snarled as we stood surrounded. They wanted to fight but knew if they left their posts in front of us, we¡¯d be swarmed by these lesser vampires. They¡¯d overrun us in an instant. We were too tired, out of equipment, and shaken by the fear of losing Clara and Patrick like this. We had no way out. I looked at Clara as she struggled, it hurt me to see her like that. I wanted to do something at that moment¡­ but I didn¡¯t know what I could do. I looked at Eleanor and my sweet Autumn. I was sorry that we all came here to protect Zeke and his family. I should have let them die on their own.

    ¡°Fitz¡­ NO!¡± Martin barked at him as he readied to drink the life from my sister.

    A low growl escaped his throat as he reared his head back¡­

    A massive crash sounded through the first floor and was followed immediately by the scream of an unseen vampire. One of the younger vampires on the outer edge of the hoard was pulled into the darkness of the vacant structure, vanishing from the crowd of killers. He screamed in an unseen part of the brewery. It was terrifying screams of agony and fear. Horror gripped the few vampires that lingered closest to the exit, the ones that tried to warn Fitz earlier.

    Fitz stopped before he bit into Clara¡¯s jugular. He still held her unconscious body in his grasp but turned his attention to the haunting screams and wails from the darkness. The sound of bones snapping, flesh ripping, and blood being cast onto hard surfaces echoed between us all.

    ¡°Fitz¡­¡± the tall, dark-haired man looked to his subordinate. ¡°One of yours?¡±

    Fitz looked like he saw something in the shadows, something that the other man couldn¡¯t see with his human eyes. The look in his red eyes was something I hadn¡¯t ever seen on a vampire until tonight. If I had to describe it, I¡¯d say it was fear. Not just any fear¡­ fear of something unknown. His look had questions, uncertainty, and impending doom. His grip loosened on Clara, dropping her body to the floor in front of him. He looked into the shadows at something, trembling as he stepped back. That¡¯s when I noticed all of the vampires started slowly stepping away. Martin and Alex were keeping their eyes trained on the hoard, not looking at anything else. I wondered; did they already know what it was?

    A deep throaty exhale sounded throughout the level from where they were looking. The shadows were thick in that area, cloaking whatever had pulled the vampire to its death. Yet, heavy feet thudded and scratched with each step. Claws drug across the hardened concrete floors of the brewery as this threat inched out of the shrouding shadows. Only one more sound came from the darkness, and it was right as the size and shape of this creature presented itself. It was a sharp and guttural snarl that was directed across the room to the vampires.

    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± the man with the parted hair and cheap suit seemed irritated. ¡°It seems you aren¡¯t taken care of after all. No matter¡­¡± he was cut off, literally.

    As the creepy tall man spoke into the shadows in front of him, a burst of rage shot out from the darkness. In only a second, a massive beast ripped from the cover of black to the man in the middle of the room. It was a behemoth that was wrapped in dark greyish skin. It stood almost twice as tall as me, and probably four times as large. Its massive black talons ripped through the gut of the fancy man in an instant, spilling out his insides. He dropped to the ground as the lights had already left his eyes. But he was still met with the dominating force of the monster¡¯s large muscular arms. It smashed and crushed every bone inside of his body, turning his insides to dust and goo. It hit him over and over, smashing him into the hard floor as the terrorized vampires watched on in horror.

    The panic and the fear of losing Clara blocked my brain from connecting the dots at first. I thought this thing was something else that crawled out of that subterranean hole in the Lemp Brewery, but now I saw it. I saw him. It was Sam¡­ that thing he turned into all those months ago. For the second time in my life, I saw the unexplainable power and mystery of what he had inside of him. Even still¡­ I didn¡¯t know for certain if that thing would turn on us next.

    The vampire holding Patrick let go of his grip as it stared in surprise and terror. Patrick slowly backed away from the carnage that was growing from the body of the creepy man. He backed all the way to us, hiding behind us, safe from his captors.

    Everything that happened next erupted from a maelstrom of destruction too ferocious and chaotic to even comprehend. The sheer volume of the noise made it hard to do anything other than recoil. The beast¡­ Sam¡­ moved with murderous intent, his colossal form a blur of savagery as he obliterated the first floor. Like a relentless predator, he pursued each vampire with single-minded fury, his senses honed to locate and exterminate them one by one. Each swipe of his razor-edged talons was a brutal symphony of annihilation, tearing through flesh, splintering bones, and rending the very supports of the building. He was a cataclysmic storm of violence, a juggernaut of death that showed no regard for the devastation he wrought.

    The structural supports, unable to withstand the onslaught, gave way to a catastrophic collapse. The ceiling crumbled in a thunderous cacophony, showering the floor below with debris and chaos. The deafening roar of destruction filled the air as the first floor imploded, its once-sturdy bones now reduced to a tangled mess of ruin.

    My family and I recoiled instinctively, horror-stricken as the mayhem unfolded. The dust billowed and swirled, obscuring the wreckage as it settled. We stood paralyzed, separated from the vampires and the impending threat they embodied. Yet amidst the wreckage and the ceaseless noise, one piercing reality remained: Clara was trapped with them, clinging to life amid the carnage.

    ¡°Get out now, while you can,¡± Martin ordered us all.

    ¡°No,¡± Wayland pushed past him in an instant, already trying to wedge himself between the rubble that separated him from his wife.

    ¡°Wayland!¡± Martin barked. ¡°You need to leave¡­ I don¡¯t know if Sam can control himself around you when he¡¯s like that.¡±

    The twisting metal and falling debris were still settling, making it loud and hard to hear each other, not to mention all the screaming from the other side.

    Wayland ripped stones and metal from the mound of debris as Martin tried to reason with him. He was in a frenzied panic.

    Autumn, Eleanor, and Frank came to my side as we watched in terror at the sight of a frantic Wayland. He never lost his cool like this. Ever since Wayland had met our family, when Clara first started bringing him around, he was always quiet and collected. When he found out about the supernatural world around him and what our family truly did within that world, he was always composed. He never broke that composure the whole time I knew him. He was a silent and deadly warrior, but to see him like this shook us all. On top of that, the fear of what had happened, or would happen, to Clara had us all in a state of panic.

    Alex ran up beside Wayland and snapped him out of his state in an instant, ¡°Hey! Stop and go protect the rest of your family. She¡¯s fine, I can still hear her heart beating on the other side. None of them are focusing on her. That thing¡¯s killing all of them. I¡¯ll get her out of there and bring her back to you.¡± She had placed her hand on his shoulder as she spoke through her bloodied mouth to him.

    ¡°Wayland,¡± Martin sped to his side as well. Before he could speak, his voice was cut off by a thundering shake on the other side of the barrier. Deathly screams for mercy seeped through the cracks of rubble. Martin centered himself, ¡°We¡¯ll get her, and well bring her to safety. Delilah can¡¯t lose you too. Trust me¡­ I¡¯ll get her.¡±

    Wayland looked to both of them, relenting from his initial urge to throw himself into the fray for his wife, ¡°Please¡­ save her.¡± His jaw was clenched hard at the decision to leave his wife¡¯s fate to our inhuman friends. I could see in his eyes that he thought he failed her. Then, he climbed down the hill of debris and met us at the door.

    We all ran, scared for Clara, hoping Alex and Martin could get her back to us safely. We were putting so much trust into them for this, and it was unsettling. However, we couldn¡¯t fight that many creatures the way we were, with no real plan or equipment. So, we ran, smashing through the doors of the ground level and sprinting into the big open space where our vehicles were parked.

    We made it outside of the building. Whatever that fucking asshole with the parted hair had planned was shut down. I just hoped Clara would be fine. We planned for things like this. Every member of the family knew the possibility of death on every hunt. It was always there¡­ but when it had the potential of becoming a reality, it changed everything. But, for the sake of everyone else¡­ we had to run.

    Even though he seemed like a human¡­ I was glad that Sam slaughtered his ass. Sam, our monstrous friend¡­ I hoped he¡¯d end everything that was going on in that building, and below. Ultimately my money was on him to save Clara and put a stop to whatever we had stumbled upon.

    We found our way back to the children, who were hiding behind the side of a building that was about fifty yards away from the place we had left them with Patrick. They had heard the fighting, the commotion of all the vampires, but I think it was the sound of the massive beast ripping people''s screaming heads from their bodies. I turned back after we found the kids, and could still hear the thunderous vibrations ringing out from the building. Whatever Sam was doing to them was still happening. Even though he was a part of our family, and protecting us, seeing him again sent a chill up my spine.

 Chapter 43 - Tied to the Beast

    I stood in my monstrous form, a low warble escaping my clenched fangs. My arms ran slick with crimson life, dripping into puddles beneath me. All around me lay the torn and dismembered bodies of creatures that came from the depths. They were nothing compared to the beast inside of me. Jon, the new Jon, was right. I was getting stronger. I felt faster, able to move in and out of people with my massive body as I exchanged one victim for another. I laid waste to every single one of them. Nothing but carnage lay at my feet.

    I glanced over, under multiple bodies, to the asshole that had been prodding the beast in some unseen way. The human amongst the vampires had been attacking the monster, trying to find a way to take me out. As soon as I set my eyes on him, I knew¡­ it was him. But why? How had he been doing it? It was his last mistake! There was no doubt about his fate¡­ he was fucking dead and buried underneath a mountain of corpses. He didn¡¯t have a single solid bone left.

    I heard voices behind me as I stood in my otherworldly visage. I didn¡¯t turn to look straight at them, I only glanced back to see them in my peripheral vision. Martin and Alex were there, helping Clara sit up and regain consciousness.

    I didn¡¯t want to initially, but I calmed the beast inside of my mind. I could feel all the death that surrounded me as my size and stature returned to normal, making me want to remain as the beast. Tendons and ligaments popped and clicked in and out of place as bones shifted around. I shrunk back to normal proportions in the darkness of the rubble-filled area. I was covered in blood, my arms coated, and face spattered in the drying red substance. When I was completely myself again, I looked up, closing my eyes. I took a long breath as I calmed my mind as much as possible. I could feel the outside influence gone. The anger and agitation of the monster had been nullified. Whoever that asshole was¡­ his effects were no more. Yet, the monster itself remained on my mind like a hand gripped tightly around my brain. I wasn¡¯t in full control, but neither was he. Strangely it was like we were blending, wanting the same things.

    I looked around the bloodied carnage for some semblance of clothing. One of the vampires that was missing its head had taken the least amount of damage compared to the rest of my victims. He had on an average pair of jeans that looked about my size.

    Alex, Martin, and a conscious Clara, all watched me intently as I paced around for clothes, never saying a word. Once I had pants on and was presentable, I eased my way over to them.

    Alex had a look on her bloodied face that seemed like she didn¡¯t know what to think. Martin and Clara¡¯s looks were that of recognition, but slight hesitation.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked Clara.

    She nodded fiercely at my question, ¡°I¡¯m alright. My throat just¡­¡± she shook her head slightly. ¡°It¡¯s hard to breathe.¡±

    ¡°He had his grip around you for so long that it will take time to heal,¡± Martin said.

    She lightly touched the already forming bruises across her neck, gauging the level of pain she was in.

    ¡°Wayland¡­¡± Clara strained to speak. ¡°Is he okay? Where is he?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s alright,¡± Alex smiled. ¡°We had to force him to leave so he wouldn¡¯t get himself killed. He was dead set on getting to you, even if he had to dig his way through that.¡± Alex motioned toward the pile of materials that used to be the ceiling. She almost seemed envious.

    ¡°Where is he?¡± Clara asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re all outside. Carter is on the phone with Detective Ames. They are trying to get the children you found here sorted out and back to their families. There are going to be a lot of questions about what happened here,¡± Martin explained. ¡°I can take you to them. I know they are all worried beyond belief.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± Clara nodded quickly.

    Alex and Martin gingerly helped her to regain her footing. Only her throat was hurt, but the exhaustion that set in from their battling on the other levels of the structure had weakened her. Being choked unconscious right after can¡¯t do the body much good. They started walking out, and then Clara looked back.

    ¡°Sam, aren¡¯t you coming?¡± Clara asked.

    I was shocked at her idea. I couldn¡¯t come out like this. If her family saw me this way, covered in blood after I slaughtered as the monster¡­ How could they see me as anything else?

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°You two get her back with them. I¡¯ll stay here and check out this hole.¡± I motioned back toward the void that ran through the concrete foundation. It led down into a sublevel, and then deeper into the caves beneath the city. With any luck, I might be able to track their path and find others that were tied in with this group of inhuman beasts.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± Clara spoke with a rasp in her voice as she called my name. But then she stopped talking. I think she wanted to say something, but the intensity of what she felt as she looked at me choked her words. I didn¡¯t look human down there in the darkness, surrounded by my carnage.

    I looked straight back to her, still covered in blood, and just nodded.

    I could see the fear in her eyes as she looked at me, remembering the violent flashes of what she did see of my other half.

    ¡°Once I¡¯m done down there, I¡¯ll get myself cleaned up. We need to talk about everything that happened here,¡± I told Martin and Alex. I wanted to pick their brains. I wanted to see how deep Alex¡¯s knowledge went, as well as Martin¡¯s. Maybe they¡¯d know something about the guy I killed. How he was affecting me¡­

    ¡°Alright,¡± Martin agreed quickly, moving Clara towards the bloodied exit that was littered with fleeing bodies that didn¡¯t quite make it.

    My three friends disappeared, exited the building, and were back out under the night sky. Only about a minute later I heard the reunion of Wayland and Clara. I heard tears, promises being made, and embraces that pulled people in close. I wanted to be there. I wanted to feel what they felt. I hoped the rest of them were okay, mentally. Seeing me again, like that¡­ I hoped it didn¡¯t change anything.

    I thought of Autumn. I needed to talk to her about so many things. We needed to talk¡­ I needed to talk. I had so many things I needed to say to her. I had no real hopes of regaining her in my life like before, but miracles did happen. Plus, I needed to tell her that nothing that happened was her fault. I also wanted to see her face after everything I just did. Then I¡¯d be able to tell if she still wanted me around after seeing the ruthless killer again.

    <hr>

    I plunged deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels and caves, the hours bleeding together in a blur of slick stone and the stench of stale water. My legs were soaked to the bone, the cold bite of the flooded pathways gnawing at my flesh as I trudged through the filth of the city''s runoff. Thankfully, it did clean most of the crusted blood from my lower body as I made my way through the darkness. Every step sent ripples through the murky pools. The foul stench of decay clung to the air, a miasma of rot and mold that settled in my lungs with each breath. If I was still human, I¡¯d probably have to set up an appointment to be seen by a doctor immediately.

    I wanted to find some kind of hint at the origin of that group of vampires. They had come from below, and there had to be tracks to lead me to more of them. Martin had sworn there were deeper passageways, hidden routes that led further into the city''s underbelly, but every lead I followed led only to disappointment. I trailed the faintest whiffs of something other than sewage; faint hints of sulfur, damp earth, or the bitter tang of rusted metal. But I was only met with the unyielding face of solid stone, the natural barrier beneath the city mocking my efforts. I forced myself into every crack and crevice. My skin scraped against jagged rocks as I squeezed through spaces barely wide enough to fit my frame. I traced paths worn by time, faint scuff marks of a passing presence, but all they led to were dead ends and forgotten places.

    It felt like there should be some hidden passage, some trick of the rock I hadn¡¯t uncovered. There had to be, that was the only explanation. My black eyes pierced the darkness, cutting through the oppressive void of the caves, every detail of the jagged stone illuminated in sharp, unforgiving clarity. Stalactites hung like the teeth of some colossal beast, dripping with the filth of a forgotten world. Stalagmites jutted up from the ground, slick with grime and as unwelcoming as the tunnels themselves. But for all the clarity my vision offered, it couldn¡¯t show me the way forward. The cave walls were riddled with scars, and fissures that looked promising until you reached their end, realizing it was just another trick of this underground maze.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I had spent the last two years mapping out the subterranean networks, every extension and every bend, convinced I had charted the unknown. But tonight, surrounded by unyielding stone and the echo of my own footsteps, I realized just how little I understood. The passageways were a twisted web of false starts and misdirection, and I was just another lost soul trying to find a way deeper into a darkness that refused to let me in.

    Once I called it quits on the underground hunt, I pushed through a thick steel manhole cover that led me back out into the crisp air of the dawn sky. When I cracked the lid to street level, the rising sun hit me right in the retinas, fading my black eyes to white and blue. It was morning in St. Louis, and the sun slightly peering over the horizon gave me a warm comfort. Knowing that the one who was causing me such internal distress had been dealt with, gave me a new calm. I could maybe have that talk with Autumn, now that the manipulation the entity spoke of had been dealt with.

    The beast and I were becoming one, more so than ever before. I only felt it struggling to get out because of the one Jon told me about. He was doing something to make the beast lash out. I knew I was back to normal now that he was dead.

    Yet, all this didn¡¯t deter me from regaining the relationships I wanted. I didn¡¯t fear for their safety when I thought about it. I wanted to be near so I could keep them safe from things that might be too large for them to handle.

    I returned to Martin¡¯s hideout in the early morning shadows before they had all been cast away by the encroaching sun. I was still sprinkled with blood on most of my upper chest area and flecked randomly all over. I knew the vampire blood would burn off and cause some real nasty discomfort, so I stuck to darkened areas. Plus, I couldn¡¯t be seen by the waking populace. So, I snuck back to my hideaway.

    Once inside of my borrowed home, and away from any prying eyes, I washed my hands for probably thirty minutes. I knelt in front of the sink, placed my arms in, and just scrubbed. I had so much blood on me from the carnage that it was caked and dried into every crevice of my upper body. After I got the majority of the thickly caked red stain off me, I jumped into the shower. I stayed there for even longer. At one point I just sat on the floor of the tiled area and let the water hit me in the back as I stared into the drain; watching light red trails of blood run down. I felt calm.

    For the first time in a while, I felt like I was me again. I had a reprieve from the constant provocation of the beast within. Once I killed that dweeb with the haircut, I felt normal. But¡­ it was more than that. Again, I felt like I was becoming the beast¡­ and the beast was becoming me. I always liked to think of it separately, maybe it helped me process or justify what I had to do, but I was starting to feel differently. Maybe ¡°we¡± didn¡¯t exist¡­ maybe it was all¡­ just me.

    I had a passing thought about Patrick and the man with the slicked black part getting their hair cut by the same person¡­ because they looked ridiculous. Then I was curious, why did he want Patrick? The vampire, I heard Martin call Fitz, called out for him specifically, like that creep was in the shadows whispering that he wanted him. What kind of heinous fate would he have been left to if taken by those from below? Even I had to admit¡­ he didn¡¯t deserve that. I was glad I helped him, too.

    <hr>

    I took the last few steps through the trees to the edge of the Chasse property, listening in to determine what kind of state the family was in after the quick turn of events at the Lemp Brewery. I could hear arguing inside the walls of the sprawling but secluded home. It sounded like it was coming from Carter and Zeke.

    "When are you ever going to learn," Carter yelled through his anger.

    "When are you going to stop treating these monsters like pets and start treating them like what they actually are; the enemy!" Zeke spat back.

    "If it wasn''t for them, we''d all be dead, and we''d be dead because of YOU!" Carter''s words were hard but true. "I never should have put anyone else in danger for you and your ignorant ways. You don''t see the risks; all you see is monsters... and you''ll risk everyone¡­ your brother, even your own daughter, to hunt the way you do. Why do you think our parents took the time to train us when we were kids? They wanted us to survive, not go down in a random bloodbath because we weren''t smart and didn''t use the things they taught us."

    ¡°Maybe the way your father taught you. There¡¯s a reason my dad fuckin¡¯ left! There¡¯s too much talking with you all. We have to FIGHT them! That¡¯s what our dad taught us!¡± Zeke was confident in his words. I couldn¡¯t see them, but I knew he was speaking about Arthur who was probably right behind him.

    ¡°And look where that¡¯s got you,¡± Carter said viciously. ¡°Look around you. How many of your fucking family is left, Zeke? Three¡­¡± There was a pause there, and no one else spoke. ¡°You keep going this way¡­ you¡¯re all fucking dead!¡±

    With that, the whole house fell silent. The silence didn''t last long, but the shock of Carter''s words was powerful amongst the family.

    As the family''s heated exchange continued, I started to realize that neither Martin nor Alex, were there. They must have left once they got everyone back safe. From the sounds of everything, Zeke didn¡¯t approve of their presence.

    I never smelled him as the wind was on my back, but there at the edge of the woods was Wayland. His taller frame sat at the base of a tree, looking out into the woods where I always came from when I arrived on foot. I was too nervous as I approached, scared inside at what they¡¯d think after seeing my true form again. I overlooked him.

    He connected eyes with me, ¡°Sam!¡±

    ¡°Wayland,¡± I responded with an unsure tone.

    He took a deep breath, preparing himself.

    "They''ve been like this since we got back," Wayland''s voice spoke out. He was sitting there like he was waiting for me. He could see that I was listening in to the faint voices he knew were probably still yelling from within the house.

    "I didn''t expect you out here."

    "Yeah I figured you''d come this way," he explained. "I wanted to talk to you before everyone else was around. Plus, I had to get out of there; Zeke''s way too loud."

    I smirked, "I can tell."

    ¡°Listen, Sam," Wayland arose from where he waited, "I haven''t given you a fair shot since we''ve learned that you¡¯re¡­ not human. If I''m being totally honest ... I don¡¯t trust that thing you turn into."

    "Yeah... I don¡¯t know if I do either."

    "It''s not that I''m worried for myself, or even Clara, but I''m worried about my daughter. Delilah means more to me than anything else in this world. Once we found out about you, I just kept picturing you taking her from us, and I¡¯d never see her again."

    I didn''t even have to respond. He knew it was crazy. I just nodded as he spoke, letting him get everything off his chest.

    "I know you¡¯re not the bad guy, Sam. I see that now. When Clara was in that mother fuckers grip..." He shook his head like he was angry and disappointed with himself. "You saved her... not me. If you weren''t what you are, whatever that is, she¡¯d be gone. I wouldn''t have a wife anymore. Delilah would never get to hug her mother again. I can never repay you..." He spoke the most honest words he had.

    "You don''t have to worry about that," I assured him.

    We both stared at the ground for a minute, thinking different things inside our own heads.

    ¡°It''s funny you know¡­¡±

    Wayland perked up quickly, ¡°What is?¡±

    ¡°I feel like it''s so easy to help you¡­ your family, with what I am. But I can¡¯t even fucking help myself.¡±

    I didn¡¯t expect him to say anything, and he didn¡¯t. We just stood there for a few minutes.

    He took a slow refreshing breath, "As far as Clara and I are concerned, you''re one of us.¡± Wayland looked away from me and up into the trees. ¡°You always have been, I''m just sorry it has taken me this long to see that¡¯s never changed."

    "I appreciate that," I said, reaching out to shake his raising hand.

    I liked Wayland. He reminded me of myself, the kind of father and husband I would have been... maybe.

    "I''d say let''s go in, but I think they''re still going at it," the tall hunter said.

    "It''s silent right now," I said as I turned my hearing deeper into the house.

    "I don''t think they''ll be here much longer. After we all got back, Carter pretty much hasn''t stopped laying into Zeke. We''re kind of in the middle of a family argument that''s been brewing for years," Wayland informed.

    "I can tell," I nodded.

    "Carter, Frank, and Clara have always been more careful about hunting. They train, they plan, and they win. That''s how they were taught. Zeke and Arthur train and fight, but they don''t spend much time on preparation or planning.  Zeke''s been that way since they were all younger. Their family has lost a lot over the years. Zeke, Kayla, and Arthur are all that''s left of their family, and Carter doesn''t want that for us," Wayland explained. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want it for them either, obviously, but you can only lead a horse to water¡­¡±

    "Why wouldn''t they want to do things safer?" I asked, truly confused.

    "Their hearts are in the right place; they just think that those kinds of losses come with this life. It¡¯s how they were taught, family death was almost normalized for them growing up. That¡¯s what Clara told me once. I think they would be open to change, but really it''s just a pride thing at this point."

    Wayland and I sat outside for a little while longer, mostly in silence. We talked casually and I could really tell that he saw me in a new light. I was glad because I liked Wayland. In our conversation, his phone started buzzing and lighting up the small area of trees we were in during the early morning hours.

    "What''s going on," Wayland answered.

    I was already tuned in with my senses so hearing his phone call was easy.

    "Hey, where are you at? Things have calmed down a little in here and we want to get everyone back in here to talk," Clara''s raspy voice came through the speaker.

    "I''m outside," Wayland said, looking at me with a question on his mind. He was wondering if I wanted them all to know I was there with him. I shook my head slightly, and he nodded. "I''ll be right in." Then, he flipped his phone closed.

    "I don''t want to make things worse again if they''re calming down. I''ll come back," I offered.

    "That''s probably smart given the state of things here. I''ll let Carter and El know you came by once Zeke is clear. I know they''ll want to see you, Clara, too. She''s very grateful for what you did. She''s embarrassed that she let a vampire get the jump on her, but glad you were there."

    I nodded, "Thanks. I¡¯ll see ya.¡±

    With that, I stepped back into the shadows of the trees and left the family once again.

 Chapter 44 - Wicklow

    Once inside of the borrowed home, I began to think about the man from the brewery. How was he able to affect me the way he was? What exactly was he doing to me? Also, why did he seem like he was running the show, and the vampires were all doing what he said? What were they going to do with those kids? One thing was certain, more and more questions about my dark world began to arise. Whoever he was¡­ he knew about me before I knew about him. That was different.

    I passed through a small section of caves on my way back home, hoping to see¡­ something. I had literally nothing else to do so I figured I¡¯d be productive and search the caves again. Maybe I¡¯d get lucky. Should have known better. I had no such luck through the cold stone passageways. The only thing I found was a foul stench that clung to my clothes. As soon as I got home, I washed my clothes.

    I tilted my head back on the comfy couch. It was relaxing and peaceful. Now that my world had slowed down enough, I began to think about better times. I remembered Autumn¡¯s words. The way she spoke to me at their dining room table. The smell that lingered out from her and found its way into my senses and memory. I wished she was there with me at that moment. I wanted to talk.

    After an unknown amount of time had passed as I sat on the couch, I heard a crash of thunder that snapped my eyes open. I could see the flash of lightning coming through the thick curtains that draped down every window in the place. I got up, feeling the house actually pulse and shake from the winds of the storm. I walked across the plush carpet to the window and pulled back the thick materials to see the rain beating down the earth around my home. The branches in the trees all danced and thrashed overhead, turning the trees from the solid ancient growths into flexible rubberized versions of their usual selves.

    As I glanced outside to catch a quick glimpse of the storm, I saw a car parked on the side of the road. It was unfamiliar to me, but when I blackened my eyes to see through the rain, I recognized the faces that peered through the windshield. Bartley and Annabelle Wicklow were parked right outside.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Annabelle lightly spoke from within the car, ¡°if you can hear me, please come out and speak with us.¡±                That shit was weird. Their status and power were always a big question mark to me. The things they could do were as unexplainable as they were strange.

    I opened the door and stepped out into the storm. The winds raged overhead, pushing and pulling my momentum in different directions. The uncatchable lightning cracked and slithered across the sky too fast to pin down. The storms around the city seemed to be getting worse and worse as my time back lengthened. I jogged over to the Wicklow¡¯s car so I wouldn¡¯t get too wet from the rain. I grabbed the door handle to the small black sedan and pulled the opening clear, stepping into the car quickly as the rain chased me in.

    On the inside of the fancy black car were black leather seats accented by little wooden features that were polished to a mirror reflection. The Wicklows had money, that much was apparent, but they never flaunted it. Annabelle¡¯s house that was burned down in Mercy¡¯s fire was nothing to brag about, but I guess they were tied in with CWT Construction in their own way. Carter¡¯s family had money, so why wouldn¡¯t the Wicklows? I honestly didn¡¯t know that much about the¡­ yet.

    ¡°Sam, it is so good to see you again,¡± Annabelle¡¯s old bones greeted warmly from beside me in the backseat. Her far surpassing age and knowledge were present on her face as she sat there in the back of the car.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Bartley Wicklow spoke more sternly in the front driver seat. He was more serious about all the unknowns I presented him with.

    The entire Wicklow family shared similar features that I had grown accustomed to; Bartley, Patrick, and Shelta¡¯s darker elements were all from the same source. Annabelle shared all of those, only aged to a higher degree, where they had started to lose their similarities to wrinkles and grey. They were all the same blood, except Bartley¡¯s wife Sarah, making them all very distinguishable in the joint family. Sarah was like the Wicklow¡¯s version of Wayland, originating somewhere else, but just as involved as the rest of her family.

    ¡°This is¡­ unexpected,¡± I noted to both of them as I sat in the backseat, slightly wet from the rain.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Annabelle agreed, nodding with a smile. ¡°So was what happened at the Lemp Brewery. We heard that you played a part in keeping Patrick safe from those that presented themselves there.¡±

    ¡°That man, he wanted to take Patrick with him for some reason. I don¡¯t know why, but he picked him out from everyone else. They never touched him though, not like Clara,¡± I assured.

    ¡°We heard,¡± Bartley spoke, half turned in the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°I was sorry to hear that she was hurt on the hunt, but I¡¯m glad to know that she¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m also very appreciative of what you did for Patrick.¡± He looked like he wanted to say more, but he was restraining himself.

    ¡°So am I,¡± Annabelle added. ¡°I cannot see, nor predict you like I can with everyone else. We had no clue what would happen there since you were in the vicinity. I wish Patrick would¡¯ve told us what he was doing, then I could have looked out sooner. I didn¡¯t see the gaps in time until it was too late to adjust events already in motion.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad I made it in time. It was close,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°Those vampires were guarding human kids that were kidnapped from around the city. This wasn¡¯t the first interaction you have had with them, is it?¡± Bartley asked.

    ¡°No, I told Carter what I found out, and they took it from there. Martin was the one who told me where they were going, and they¡¯d probably run into trouble,¡± I explained.

    ¡°The crows led you, didn¡¯t they¡­¡± Annabelle had an understanding look as she spoke.

    ¡°Yes¡­ how did you¡­¡± I thought she couldn¡¯t see me like the others.

    ¡°Carter told me.¡± She smiled. I guess it was much simpler than I thought. ¡°However, I saw what happened to that poor boy, once it was too late. An act that powerful¡­¡± she shook her head in disgust, ¡°that kind of thing makes ripples. I felt it the moment he was killed. I watched the man who did it. I saw the crows around him, accusing him of the act. They don¡¯t make mistakes; they can feel the deed that has been done. When a life is taken like that¡­ they take notice. They won¡¯t eat those who are killed so unjustly, they mourn them. They are nature''s chosen watchers. They sense death itself, and when they see someone taken like Calvin was¡­ it is said that they will watch the accused until justice is found.¡± She eyed me curiously, ¡°Why they came to you, I am not sure.¡± She had questions, just like everyone else.

    ¡°Calvin was a part of something. Human trafficking maybe¡­ except the man I tracked and killed told me that someone else was in control now. He said that ¡°he¡± was taking people, and they wouldn¡¯t be sold like normal. He said they¡¯d all end up dead. Then, there was this man at the brewery. He was¡­ strange. He had slick black hair, parted like a little kid going to get his picture taken. He was tall and thin¡­ and he kept smiling,¡± I described him to the two gypsies. ¡°The strangest part was that it seemed like he knew about me.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Bartley was curious, but his eyes looked like they were searching for something.

    ¡°I¡­ I haven¡¯t felt myself lately. I¡¯ve been¡­ out of control, and the thing inside of me was clawing to get out. It was because someone had been targeting me, and I think it was him. When he saw me, it was like he realized he hadn¡¯t taken me out like he thought he had. He had me all twisted up in pain on a rooftop just across from where everyone was fighting. I think he thought he killed me, but then when I showed up,¡± I remembered his face in that moment. He wasn¡¯t scared at all. Even though he knew I would kill him, it was like he welcomed it. ¡°He was only human, but he wasn¡¯t as scared as those vampires were. They were terrified when they saw me through the shadows.¡±

    The air between Annabelle and Bartley was thick with unspoken understanding, their eyes locking in a silent agreement.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to speak with Shelta,¡± Annabelle said, her voice low but resolute. Bartley didn¡¯t hesitate; his hand flew to the ignition, and the engine roared to life with a sudden, impatient growl.

    ¡°What?¡± I blurted out, my heart kicking up a notch. The urge to bail surged through me, an almost instinctual response. I didn¡¯t trust the Wicklows, didn¡¯t know them well enough to follow wherever this was leading, and my hand tightened around the door latch. I was ready to jump out right there and then. The thought of being dragged along by them was grating on my nerves. They had shown up unannounced, expecting me to fall in line, and the arrogance of it rankled me the more I thought about it. They thought they could control me.

    ¡°Please, Sam,¡± Annabelle said, her tone pleading but with an edge that hinted at desperation. ¡°We understand you don¡¯t know us like you know Carter and Eleanor. But we¡¯re trying to change that, to understand you. You¡¯re special, Sam. We can see that much. Our families have enemies¡­ old, deep-seated grudges that never die. One day, they might come looking for us. For Carter. For Jane. We may need you, Sam. Not just to protect us, but to protect those you care about, too. All we¡¯re asking is that you let us speak with Shelta. She knows more about who we think this man could be. And I promise, Sam, you¡¯ll want to hear what she has to say.¡±

    Annabelle¡¯s words twisted around me, tight and insistent. ¡°You mean who he was,¡± I said, correcting her with a snap.

    Bartley¡¯s voice cut in from behind the wheel, a grim undertone seeping through. ¡°We think he may still be alive. And if he is¡­he won¡¯t stop coming for you.¡±

    I released the latch, but my grip lingered. ¡°No,¡± I said, voice hardening. ¡°I killed him. I turned him to dust that night. There¡¯s no way he could have survived that. Unless he¡¯s squirming around as a pile of slop.¡±

    Annabelle winced. ¡°I hope you¡¯re right, Sam. God, I hope you¡¯re right,¡± Annabelle replied, but there was no confidence in her voice, only the brittle edge of doubt. ¡°And I hope we¡¯re wrong. But we need to know what Shelta thinks. I don¡¯t want it to be him¡­ I dread what it would mean if it is.¡±

    ¡°How would Shelta even know?¡± I asked, eyes narrowing as Bartley turned the car onto the main road, gravel crackling beneath the tires like bones under pressure.

    ¡°Shelta is the most¡­¡± Annabelle paused, searching for the right word, something to capture the strangeness and power of her daughter. ¡°Gifted in our family. She can connect to things most of us can¡¯t even sense. If anyone can trace this man, find out where he came from, it¡¯s her. She¡¯ll surpass me one day, Sam.¡±

    ¡°If she can control it,¡± Bartley muttered, half to himself, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

    ¡°She will,¡± Annabelle countered, though the conviction in her voice wavered ever so slightly. Their family dynamic was raw and splintered. It was a constant push and pull of doubt and belief.

    I sighed, feeling the pull of something far darker than I wanted to admit. ¡°Fine,¡± I said finally, my curiosity winning out over caution. ¡°I¡¯ll talk with her.¡±

    Bartley¡¯s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he nodded, and the car sped up, the landscape blurring past.

    ¡°So¡­ who was he?¡± I asked the question hanging heavy between us as the vehicle barreled into the unknown.

    Annabelle patted my knee from across the back of the car, ¡°I think it¡¯s best if we wait for Shelta. No reason to worry for nothing.¡±

    We rode through the darkened, stormy skies of the city outskirts. Shelta lived somewhere down south of St. Louis, across the river on the eastern side. The lightning cracked back and forth across the city as the wind whipped and tussled the car around.

    ¡°The storms are getting worse,¡± Bartley spoke ominously from the front.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes¡­ they are,¡± Annabelle acknowledged, looking out into the gloomy sky.

    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed that too. What does it mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Things could be happening, someone could be watching, it could mean any number of things. There are many different forces in this world and many different beings that can affect various aspects of this place we live in. It could be nothing more than natural weather at its peak, or it could be something else,¡± she gave me non-answers. Now I knew how that felt.

    ¡°How was I blinded before?¡± I asked, thinking back to the night that the Chasse family had tricked me with some kind of spell or supernatural trick that I assumed was from the Wicklows. They lured me to their warehouse and placed some type of unseen effect on me. It made them completely invisible to me, and then they made the time pass by in an instant while they made their escape. It had always bugged me, and I thought now was a good time to ask.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Bartley asked.

    ¡°When Carter had me go to his main office building, I didn¡¯t see them, and then time got all¡­ distorted. Something happened to me,¡± I said.

    ¡°That was me,¡± Bartley answered. ¡°We knew you weren¡¯t human, but we didn¡¯t know what would work on you since we didn¡¯t know what you were. We performed two rituals; one to keep those hidden from something inhuman, and another to slow the perception of time on any being touched by the supernatural. The first is a simple effect to create; the second, however, is much more difficult. It really tested my abilities,¡± Bartley spoke from the front.

    ¡°How do your abilities work?¡± I asked.

    ¡°How does your power work, Sam?¡± Annabelle asked to more prove a point. ¡°Do you know the specifics? How do you become so large, so strong, or how can you survive hellfire? Some things just can¡¯t be explained. What I can tell you is that we have our own ways apart from the Chasse family. Where they search their bestiaries and train physically, we study our family¡¯s written word and learn the spells and effects that our ancestors developed as they grew in power. Our books are not bestiaries like the Chasses, they are much more than a few notes on strengths and weaknesses. Our bestiaries are more akin to a playbook. Family members that have come before would write what abilities, wards, or other powers derived from the gypsy blood were effective in certain situations or against certain creatures. We develop those abilities over time, so when the need arises, we¡¯ll be ready. Some are born more naturally gifted, while others have to work and learn of those powers.¡±

    ¡°Shelta is a natural?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Annabelle nodded. ¡°But Bartley is much more studied and knowledgeable in our history and effectiveness. Natural abilities cannot be relied on when the time comes, we need training just as much as the Chasses.¡±

    ¡°What can Patrick do?¡± I asked, curious about what Autumn knew of his unusual abilities.

    ¡°Patrick has resisted a lot as he¡¯s grown. If I am candid,¡± Bartley said, ¡°when you first came around, you got Autumn¡¯s attention. Patrick noticed, and he hasn¡¯t paid enough mind to his studies. He¡¯s been far too focused on her. That¡¯s why he went out with them on that hunt the other night. He wants to be more like them. He thinks she¡¯ll like that, and in turn like him as she used to.¡± Bartley shook his head at the thought.

    ¡°Do you not like Autumn,¡± I asked them both.

    ¡°Oh please,¡± Annabelle assured. ¡°Autumn is a powerful warrior and a soft soul at heart. However, she made it clear to Patrick long ago that they should just stay friends. I think you know as well as I, Sam, that Autumn has gone through much in the time since we very first met you. She¡¯s had a hard time and is just looking for something to ease her pain¡­ and Patrick is familiar.¡±

    Bartley joined in, ¡°Patrick has been wrapped in Autumn''s web by his own doing for too long. He should have the eyes to see what is happening with her. I think he keeps hoping she¡¯ll want him back again. I honestly wish he¡¯d see what¡¯s in front of him. Sometimes, young men can be so blind,¡± he meant something that I honestly didn¡¯t understand.

    ¡°Blind?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Kayla,¡± Annabelle answered me. ¡°Kayla has been trying to get that boy''s attention for as long as I can remember, but he¡¯s always been so hung up on Autumn that he can¡¯t see it.¡±

    I was just the same. I hadn¡¯t seen it yet, but I did now. The way Kayla was always picking at him, poking fun at him, slapping his ass after helping him up off the ground that night. She was flirting, in her own monster-hunter way. Having only a hardened father and uncle must have made it hard for her to speak her feelings like she probably could have if her mother was still alive to show her.

    ¡°I see that Autumn will have some time unaccounted for here shortly,¡± Annabelle admitted. ¡°She¡¯ll be safe,¡± she admitted, ¡°I can see her on the other end of the void, but still¡­ you might want to tell Eleanor and Carter about it. I am not sure how they will react, Sam.¡±

    I nodded but didn¡¯t speak a word. What she saw in her supernatural sight shocked me. Autumn was going to come to me. I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t excited about seeing her again¡­ alone.

    ¡°Is she safe¡­ with you?¡± the eldest gypsy asked.

    ¡°She is,¡± I answered. ¡°They all are.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope,¡± she warned. ¡°My allegiance has always been and will always be to the family. Even though we don¡¯t know how to fight against you¡­ I will if I have to¡­ to protect them.¡± Her statement was scathing and unforgiving. She wasn¡¯t scared of me, nor was she afraid to die to protect the ones she loved.

    I nodded to the old woman as I looked into her piercing eyes.

    We pulled into a suburban neighborhood in a town that I didn¡¯t really recognize that well. The houses all looked very similar, the only difference being the flowers and greenery in each of the street-facing gardens. This place was built quickly from previously laid plans like a little treat popping out from beneath the cookie cutter.

    We didn¡¯t even go inside as we saw Shelta on a wooden porch swing that hung from eyebolts beside her front door. She was waiting for us.

    ¡°Hey Mom, hey Bartley,¡± she greeted calmly.

    Shelta¡¯s short haircut swung in the breeze as she lightly swung on her porch. She didn¡¯t look as strained as she always did but still held focus in her eyes. I wondered if it was because of the powers she held from birth. Were the natural gifts she was given too much for her to live with at times?

    ¡°I already know what you¡¯re going to ask,¡± Shelta stopped me in my tracks.

    ¡°You can see that?¡± Annabelle asked curiously. ¡°Even with Sam here?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t see him, but I still see you,¡± she explained. ¡°His aura is¡­ dark, but manageable enough that I can look around it.¡±                ¡°Do you think it¡¯s him, sweetie?¡± the old woman stepped up to her daughter, hugging her neck.

    Bartley mirrored his mother''s actions and stood by his sister. I paced up to the steps of the small porch and waited for an answer.

    ¡°I¡¯ve felt things for a while now, but I didn¡¯t know how far I was reaching out. One night I felt something¡­ and it scared me. Someone was watching me, trying to see what I was doing¡­ what we were all doing,¡± Shelta shook as she thought about whom she spoke of. ¡°The presence is just like I remember¡­ only darker¡­ stronger.¡±

    ¡°Damn it,¡± Bartley admitted his fear.

    ¡°So, it was him,¡± Annabelle sighed.

    ¡°Who?¡± I asked quickly, annoyed that they were leaving me out of their strange unspoken conversation.

    Shelta turned to me and spoke, ¡°I¡¯m not certain, but Peter is who they are talking about; Peter Grimwood. He isn¡¯t like anyone you¡¯ve ever met before.¡±

    Who the hell was Peter Grimwood? Why was he such a big deal, and, if it was him, why was he able to mess with me the way that he was?

    ¡°I think we should step inside and take a seat, Sam,¡± Annabelle suggested. ¡°This is a long story.¡±

    After about half an hour of convoluted explanation, I thought I was finally getting it. I replayed the information to them as we sat on Shelta¡¯s sectional couch inside of the quaint little modern home.

    ¡°So, Peter Grimwood was from the original Grimwoods that was cast out of your collective¡­ family,¡± I searched for the right words.

    ¡°He is a descendent, yes, just like us,¡± Shelta clarified.

    ¡°And you met him ten years ago when you all reached back out to the Grimwood clan when you were trying to break the Talbot curse?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Bartley answered.

    ¡°Why did you want to do that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The Talbots have been through a lot in their time since they were cursed. Their family rises and falls by the curse. They can never have real lives so long as the beast inside rules them. There is no other creature as ferociously vicious as the werewolf on a full moon,¡± Annabelle reminisced. ¡°Except for you, that is,¡± she amended her statement.

    ¡°Long story short,¡± Bartley began to explain, ¡°When Jane was taken by the curse, and we saw the damage it had done to Frank and Jane both, we decided to search. We thought it had been long enough, and that maybe the current Grimwoods wouldn¡¯t have any kind of grudge over what happened in the past with our families. We thought that they might want to help break the curse that their bloodline put on the Talbots. Rejoin the collective clan¡­¡± Bartley huffed, ¡°We were wrong.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± I asked.

    Shelta spoke next, ¡°We met with them, learned from them, and fell in deep with them. They were like new members of the family. They were all more than willing to bury the hatchet until the night we met Peter. Peter was different than the rest of his family. He lived loosely, only coming around when he needed something from his parents. There were previous issues that we were not aware of between the Grimwoods and Peter. He thought our bloodlines should be merged, just like in the past. He didn¡¯t want to help cure the Talbots, he wanted to kill them, and the Chasses. Now that they knew our families still existed, only in America, Peter was hatching a plan. He was sickened by his own family¡¯s willingness to forgive us for casting them out.¡±

    ¡°Why would he think that? It happened so long ago,¡± I asked.

    ¡°Apparently, Peter had a great uncle who was still very old school. He was shunned by most of their family, except for Peter. Peter learned a lot from his great-uncle. He even learned to hate all of our families. His great uncle was a natural, very gifted, and he had decades of knowledge and experience that he passed on to Peter,¡± Bartley explained.

    ¡°Peter used some kind of ability he learned from his uncle to steal all of his family¡¯s power. When he did what he did, they all died. Every single one of them,¡± Shelta began to develop tears in her eyes at the memories, which confused me.

    Her short dark hair hung around her head as she leaned over in tears. Something in her mind was being revealed again after so many years of forgetting it had happened.

    ¡°It was like he sucked the life right out of them. He took on abilities that were not meant for him. He became more powerful than anyone else in our family, even Shelta. That¡¯s why it took all of us to beat him. We all converged on him quickly, unleashing the full power of our family against him. As our family was much stronger back in the old days, so were we on that day. It took everything we had on that dreadful evening, but he was no match for all of us. He was killed and buried with his family,¡± Annabelle said.

    ¡°That was a kindness that he didn¡¯t deserve,¡± Bartley spat at the memory. ¡°Shelta¡¯s power was connected with his for a moment near the end. That¡¯s why we think she¡¯ll be able to tell if it is him or not. A connection like that is not easily forgotten.¡±

    ¡°Patrick was too young to remember Peter from back then, so I don¡¯t think he would have recognized him. But Shelta would,¡± Annabelle suggested. ¡°At first, I thought you might look into Patrick later, to see the man¡¯s face.¡± She looked between Shelta and me. ¡°However¡­ I wonder. Shelta, do you think you could look into Sam¡¯s memories and see his face? If you saw past Sam to us coming here,¡± she thought aloud. ¡°Maybe look around him to what happened there that night.¡±

    It was a good thing they understood each other because I had no clue what the hell they were talking about. Their gypsy ways were foreign to me and didn¡¯t make sense, so I just went with it.

    Shelta nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll give it a try.¡±

    I nodded as well, interested to see what would happen, ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    We rose from the couch in the dim, shadow-filled living room of Shelta¡¯s home, tension thick in the air. Shelta stepped forward, her eyes sharp and unreadable, and without warning, she raised her hand, pressing her palm against the side of my face. The instant her skin met mine, a violent surge of raw power erupted between us. An explosive force detonated like a thunderclap.

    The impact was catastrophic, a shockwave ripping through the room with a ferocity that felt like being hit by a wrecking ball. It blasted us apart, throwing us like ragdolls. I was cast out through the living room window, through the wooden handrail of her front porch, and into her yard. Once my momentum stopped, I was lying in a bed of wood chips and shattered glass. Shelta was flung against her living room wall, knocking the pictures and decorative accents to the ground. Her power was intense.

    ¡°Shelta, are you okay?¡± Bartley came to his sister¡¯s aid in a heartbeat. Annabelle leaned down after the startlement subsided.

    She shook and shivered as she leaned up into her brother''s arms, ¡°It¡¯s him¡­ I saw his face. It was only for a second, but¡­¡± she could barely gather her thoughts as I lay in the grass watching. ¡°Peter¡¯s not dead!¡±

    I stood up from the ground unscathed, but a little fuzzy from the shockwave. I stepped forward toward the front window to look in on the three Wicklows. What did she mean; did he survive back then, or when I killed him at the brewery?

    ¡°No,¡± Shelta barked out fearfully as I stepped forward. She threw her arms up defensively as I approached the window, even though I was still outside. She was terrified of me. What else had she seen? What did she feel when she touched me?

    Annabelle spoke to me as she wobbled to her feet from the kneeling position, ¡°Sam, thank you for what you have done. You¡¯ve helped us discover who was out there taking people. Peter Grimwood was behind this horrid tragedy, and I fear¡­¡± she was looking inward at her own terror, ¡°he may still have survived you, somehow. However,¡± she looked to her petrified daughter, ¡°let us deal with this in our own way. We still do not know much about you, and it seems that there is still much to be discovered about what all this could mean. Thank you for coming with us, but do you think you could make it home on your own?¡±

    I nodded, catching the drift. The reaction from Shelta after she had touched my face to read my memories, wasn¡¯t one they had ever seen before. The look on Bartley and Annabelle¡¯s face said everything to me¡­ I can¡¯t describe what she looked like. Terror wasn¡¯t a powerful enough word for what she had written across her face. It wasn¡¯t Peter Grimwood that she feared¡­ it was me; or what was inside of me.

    I turned instantly, bolting through the rain and into the nearest expanse of trees I could find. I was a long way from home since my ride had just told me to basically kick fucking rocks, but I¡¯d be alright. I¡¯d make it home, only a little wetter than I was planning. So, I ran through the woods as fast as I could under cover of the grey storm clouds. They darkened so much that it was bordering on dusk out across the sky. Only the lightning turned the atmosphere bright with what could almost be a replacement for the sun, in millisecond bursts. As the storm raged outside and within me, I ran.

 Chapter 45 - Not in Control

    The night air clung to the city, damp and cool. A faint mist hung around after the rain. My clothes almost felt moist as I strolled the city streets, lost in thought. The storm had left everything slick, the streets shining under the dim streetlights, a quiet reminder of the downpour that had moved on hours ago. People were back out, hoods up, coats zipped tight, slipping back into their nighttime routines like the storm had never touched them.

    I kept my hood low, blending into the crowd. It was easy to become part of the background here, just another passerby in the city. Some nights, I needed to feel closer to humanity more than I wanted to admit. Usually, it was when I felt like I was slipping away, becoming more monster than man. Tonight especially.

    My time with the Wicklows had gone south¡­ fast! Shelta¡¯s abrupt terror at what had happened was still fresh in my mind. She didn¡¯t just want me to leave, she needed me to go as far from her as possible. Something scared her. Her touch was brief, but it left me wondering, what did she feel? What did she see inside of me when she reached out with her mind? What could have put that look on her face?

    I walked aimlessly, the cool air filling my lungs as I tried to piece it all together. I needed space, some kind of clarity. My thoughts, my doubts, returned. What had I become in her eyes¡­ in all their eyes?

    After the Chasse family had seen me for what I really was again, something deep inside me shifted. Something I couldn¡¯t identify. It was like they weren¡¯t just looking at me anymore¡­ they were seeing the thing inside the cage. The monster. They saw the wreckage I left in my wake, the violence, murder, and death that followed wherever I went. I could feel it in their stares, the way their eyes didn¡¯t just register my face but saw the horror hiding beneath my skin, into the chaos I could unleash. Even with how much Eleanor clung to me, I felt the darkness inside of me making me think of it all in different ways. Maybe Eleanor was staying close to keep her family in my favor? No¡­ that couldn¡¯t be it. I doubted it immediately. Yet¡­ it still lingered. Maybe Frank was so welcoming only to keep me calm and docile? I shook my head, trying to cast the thoughts away. It couldn¡¯t be true.

    And Shelta¡­ the way she looked at me, that mix of fear and disgust, like she¡¯d glimpsed something inside me that I could no longer hide. The hunger for death. The need to kill, kill, and kill again, ever present in the back of my mind. Her power felt like it tore open some part of me I¡¯d been trying to hold together¡­ and maybe she saw that urge¡­ felt it. The darkness I kept buried so deep now clawed its way to the surface, more alive than ever, spreading through me like poison. I felt it in my head, twisting thoughts, causing doubt in everything. I could almost feel it curling around my bones, thickening my blood, turning my thoughts¡­ colder.

    As I walked through the city streets, the night pressing in around me, the distance between me and the people passing by felt wider. The sounds of their voices, the rhythm of their footsteps, it all seemed distant. It was like I wasn¡¯t part of their world anymore. My boots hit the slick pavement, but the city felt less real somehow like I was moving through it without belonging to it.

    I tried to shake it off, to remind myself that I was still me, still human. Nothing had changed, not really. But with each step, that yearning feeling to be human slipped further away, replaced by something else. Something darker, heavier. The part of me that had once clung to my humanity felt frayed like it was unraveling with every second that passed. Maybe I was becoming what they feared. Maybe the part of me that fought to be human was fading away and that guy didn¡¯t exist anymore. After months on the road, hunting down the names I was given, and slaughtering them for the things they had done in those visions, I felt like the beast, and I had begun to mentally blur together. The old me started to slip away.

    I felt it stirring inside me. The beast clawed its way up from the depths where I had buried it. Its sudden, violent push startled me, its presence was too close to the outside, too real. My steps faltered, and I stopped dead in the middle of the street. The cool night air felt like it was pressing in as I struggled to keep control. My breath hitched, and I forced it down. I tried to steady the panic and confusion rising in my mind.

    My grip tightened mentally, and physically, as if I could hold the wheel of my mind steady through sheer will. ¡°No,¡± I whispered, my voice barely audible, more a plea than a command. But I wasn¡¯t sure who I was begging¡­ myself, or the thing inside me.

    The pressure was mounting. Muscles tensed involuntarily like I was fighting a battle within my own skin. The force was strong, stronger than I¡¯d felt before. It pulled at me, yanking my gaze across the street like it knew something I didn¡¯t. My head turned on its own, eyes locking onto something I couldn¡¯t even see, but it could. A convenience store with people inside¡­ A chill ran through me. This wasn¡¯t just a slip in control; the beast was trying to break free, to take over¡­ to kill. And for a moment, I felt my grip loosening, felt myself slipping into the dark pull of it. I almost¡­ wanted to let go¡­

    I couldn¡¯t let it win. I couldn¡¯t. I was the one in control.

    I forced the thoughts down, crushing them beneath my will, and shoved the beast back into its cage harder than ever before. With every ounce of mental fortitude I could muster, I shoved the darkness back into its home. I wouldn¡¯t let it out¡­not now, not ever. I was in control! The darkness that clawed at the edges of my mind was locked away where it belonged. It didn¡¯t control me. I controlled it. Right?

    Maybe the agitation still lingered from my encounter with Peter. I worried it was something deeper, something darker inside me that I didn¡¯t fully understand yet. But I didn¡¯t care. Whatever it was, I wouldn¡¯t let it take hold. Unless I was given a vision, the beast was mine to command, and I would keep it buried until I summoned it. No matter the struggle.

    I steadied myself, pulling in a breath as I shoved everything else aside. The stares from pedestrians, the tension in my body, the beast clawing at my mind, it all fell away. Only one thing was left, my footsteps. One after the other¡­ left then right, left then right. It became the only thing that mattered, the only thing I could focus on. My entire existence narrowed to that simple rhythm.

    Left, right, left, right. The wet pavement glistened under the dim light, my boots hitting it in steady beats. Each step felt heavy, and deliberate, like I was grounding myself with every footfall. I couldn¡¯t think beyond it. I didn¡¯t want to. The world outside blurred, people moving past me like shadows, unimportant, irrelevant. All that mattered was keeping my feet moving, not losing the thread that held me together. I had to go home. It wasn¡¯t safe for me to walk the world with humans right now. I had to get this thing away from innocent people.

    Left, right, left, right. It became my sole purpose, the only thing keeping me tethered to whatever was left of myself. Without it, I didn¡¯t know what would happen. I couldn¡¯t afford to think about the beast, the weight pressing down inside me. I couldn¡¯t afford to let my mind drift. This¡­ this movement¡­ was the only goal I had. If I could just keep walking, I could keep it all at bay. I felt it prying against my very bones, screaming and thrashing to get out of the cage.

    In a sudden, sharp moment, something flipped inside me. Something that had never happened before. I froze up, completely locked in place. Except¡­ my body kept moving. My legs were still carrying me forward, but the terrifying realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I wasn¡¯t the one in control anymore.

    A resolute and unflinching willpower overtook my own, casting me somewhere else within my mind. There was no fight, no resistance I could muster. It stopped playing nice and took what it wanted.

    It was like I¡¯d been yanked out of the driver¡¯s seat, ripped away from everything I knew about myself. Confusion swirled, but beneath that, fear set in fast, like ice in my veins. I wasn¡¯t at the helm anymore. I wasn¡¯t calling the shots. My mind, my consciousness, everything that made me¡­ me, had been shoved into the dark, locked away.

    And then it hit me. I was in the cage. The place where I¡¯d always kept the thing inside me. But now, I was the one trapped, helpless. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t even scream. My body was still moving, but I wasn¡¯t the one telling it to. I could feel every step, the ground beneath my feet, the turning of my head¡­ but none of it was my choice.

    It had always been me turning into the monster. But for the first time¡­ the monster turned into me. He was in my body. Thoughts of Autumn, Eleanor, and Carter flooded my mind. What would they do if they knew that I had lost complete control?

    I watched in horror as I felt myself turn, my legs carrying me back in the direction I¡¯d come from. The pull in my mind was still there, that same pull I¡¯d felt earlier, only now, we were heading straight toward it. And I had no say in the matter.

    I was a passenger, a puppet on strings, being dragged along by the thing inside of me. Terrified, I tried to fight it, tried to take back control, but it was like trying to move through a thick, suffocating fog. I couldn¡¯t do anything but watch as my body moved on without me.

    I felt my hands twitch, adjusting my hood, pulling it up to obscure my face as much as possible. We were approaching a convenience store, following a group of middle-aged people who seemed to be chatting in their own little world. I had no idea what was coming next, but deep down, I knew it wasn¡¯t going to end well.

    I wanted to scream, to warn them to run, to get as far away from this place as they could. But as I tried to yell, no sound came out. Inside the cage of my own mind, my voice, my will, everything was completely muted. My entire being felt like it was trapped, suffocated in isolation.

    The bell above the door rang softly as it yanked open the glass door with my hand. I watched helplessly as my form stepped inside, moving with a purposeful, unyielding stride. It turned right, heading down an aisle stocked with chips and crackers. There was no hesitation, no deviation. I could only feel the relentless forward motion as if my body were on autopilot and I didn¡¯t know how to shut it off.

    Like a predator on a hunt, it knew exactly where to go. Except this wasn¡¯t a scent we were following; it was the dark, ominous pull that guided us. And as I watched from behind the bars of the cage within, all I could do was brace myself for whatever came next, and the consequences that would follow.

    We moved through the convenience store with an unrelenting, cold precision. It passed through to the back storage room and pushed out the heavy, metal backdoor. The alleyway stretched out before us, a narrow, grimy passage cluttered with overflowing dumpsters and scattered debris. The remnants of the storm clung to everything, leaving the ground and trash soaked and leaking. The air was thick with the stench of decaying garbage, a rancid mix of old food and rot that seemed to seep into every breath.

    A man stood fifteen yards away from the backdoor, hunched against the wall of the building, puffing on a cigarette. His figure was slight and weathered, with short, thin, grey hair that clung to the sides of his skull, barely more than a few wisps. His frame was frail, a coarse structure barely concealed beneath a threadbare jacket. As he inhaled, the cigarette flared briefly, casting a small orange glow. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, drifting lazily towards me.

    His eyes were sunken deep into his face, dark and hollow from a life of hard labor. He stared with a vacant, detached look as if he didn¡¯t really see us, or perhaps didn¡¯t care. The smoke mingled with the overpowering odor of the alley, adding another layer to the already oppressive atmosphere. His gaze, lacking recognition or emotion, seemed to slide off us as we moved through the mire, blending seamlessly into the grimy setting.

    My arm extended, groping into the shadowed abyss where a familiar presence lingered. The blade. That ominous supernatural weapon that once held the form of Jon¡¯s rifle. I had no clue what it truly was, but it was as if the monster controlling my body instinctively reached for it. He pulled it from the void with practiced ease. It knew it would be there. In an instant, the air beside us shimmered with a ghostly tremor, and the blade materialized with a cruel, otherworldly aura.

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    The blade felt impossibly heavy in my grip, a weight that seemed to anchor me not just to the earth but to something far darker, far older. Its surface gleamed under the faint light of the alleyway, casting unnatural reflections that danced across the damp walls like specters. The steel itself was cold, almost unnaturally so, and emblazoned with names. There were hundreds maybe¡­ etched in a multitude of scripts and languages I could scarcely begin to understand. The names were like scars on the metal, some worn deep, others barely visible as if the blade had passed through countless hands. My name stuck out as I watched it flip the long knife around in a reverse grip, the blade length running up behind us as we closed the distance to the man.

    Also carved into the length of the blade were intricate designs¡ªsymbols that felt both ancient and alien, belonging to no one culture, but to all. Some were tiny, barely perceptible, thin lines so delicate they seemed to writhe if I stared too long. Others were bold, jagged inscriptions that seemed to pulse with menace, their edges sharp enough to draw blood just by looking.

    Being locked inside the cage, detached from the murderous intent, allowed me to observe the blade differently. I saw more, felt more. The whole thing felt wrong like it didn¡¯t belong in this world at all. It was like the blade itself was a doorway to something unspeakable. It hummed in my hand, a low, vibrating pulse, as if alive¡­ no, not alive¡­ hungry. The air around it seemed to warp, pulling at the edges of reality, a deadly aura that sent a chill crawling up my spine.

    The man before us stood frozen, his mouth hanging open in a grotesque caricature of disbelief. His cigarette tumbled from his lips; his gaze fixed on the unfolding horror. Our form before him¡­ the glinting blade hungry for his life¡­his shock morphed into a palpable, suffocating dread.

    The man stood frozen, his eyes wide with terror, as if some primal part of his brain was screaming at him to run. His body refused to listen. The blade in my hand¡­ no, its hand, began to hum louder, vibrating with an energy that made my skin crawl. I could feel it stirring inside me, the thing that had taken control; its anticipation building like a storm. There was no hesitation in its movements as it shifted its weight, the blade moving effortlessly in the air, cutting through the shadows.

    With a single, swift step, the distance between us and the man disappeared. His eyes flicked down to the blade, and a whimper caught in his throat as he finally realized the danger, but by then it was already too late.

    The blade slashed through the air, faster than I could have ever moved on my own. The steel made a sickening sound as it met flesh, a wet, tearing noise that echoed off the walls of the alley. It planted the blade into his chest with powerful force. Blood sprayed in an arc, splattering across the brick and pooling on the cracked pavement. He tried to scream, but the sound that escaped his lips was nothing more than a gurgling choke as the blade cut deep into his chest. It split him open with terrifying precision. The force of the impact drove open a wedge in his chest cavity.

    His body crumpled, but the thing controlling me wasn¡¯t done. It yanked the blade free, the weight of the man¡¯s blood now coating the steel, dark and thick. I could feel its satisfaction radiating through my limbs, a twisted sense of hunger being fed. Without a shred of mercy, it plunged the blade into the man¡¯s heart, the edge slipping effortlessly between ribs, tearing muscle and bone like paper.

    The man¡¯s eyes were wide, and bloodshot, his mouth hanging open in a grotesque, silent scream. His legs buckled beneath him, collapsing to the ground as his blood pooled around him, darkening the filthy street. Every movement was precise, and calculated, as if the blade had its own will. It ripped through him again and again, every strike filling the alley with the sound of flesh being torn apart, the smell of copper thick in the air.

    He stabbed and stabbed, the wet impacts filling the alleyway behind the convenience store. My body thrashed and fought against my own thoughts. It never stopped. It wanted this guy dead¡­ but why? I had no name¡­ no vision. Why was it doing this?

    Finally, the thing stopped. The man was nothing more than a broken heap, limbs twisted unnaturally, his lifeless eyes staring up at nothing. The blade dripped with blood, its once gleaming surface now slick and dark, stained with his life. A sick, unnatural quiet fell over the alley, save for the slow drip of blood hitting the concrete.

    And I could feel it¡­ the thing inside me¡­ savoring every moment of the slaughter, the power of the blade throbbing in my grip, like a beast well-fed but always hungry for more.

    My breath came in ragged, uneven bursts, but it wasn¡¯t mine. I still wasn¡¯t in control. The thing inside me was still there, its presence pushing against my mind like a suffocating weight.

    Then, there was a sound¡­ a shuffle from the mouth of the alley.

    I froze. My heart, my heart, hammered against my ribs as a figure stepped into the light, their silhouette barely visible in the gloom. A blonde-haired woman, middle-aged, with a crumpled grocery bag in her arms. She had heard something¡­ and had to come to investigate.

    Her eyes scanned the scene, the darkness not quite hiding what had just happened. First, she saw the body. The blood. Her footsteps faltered, the bag slipping from her fingers as cans and produce clattered onto the ground. Her gaze lifted, and then she saw me¡­or rather, the thing that stood in my skin. Pitch-black eyes emptily stared back at her.

    The shock on her face shifted instantly into horror, as she saw my stance over the man, my blade slick with his lifeblood.

    I felt a surge of panic slam into me like a tidal wave, more real than anything I¡¯d felt since this nightmare began. She was seeing me, seeing the moment after the act, the lifeless body at my feet. I could feel the fear was mine, not the monster¡¯s. It had no care for what was happening. I felt it boiling up inside like a cold, crushing hand wrapping around my throat. What had I done?

    Her mouth opened, lips trembling, trying to form words, but nothing came out. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to understand, to process what she was looking at. I could see it, the realization settling in; a man, standing over a dead body, holding a knife slick with blood. And the woman, a helpless witness to it all.

    I wanted to say something, to do something, to tell her it wasn¡¯t me, that I wasn¡¯t the one holding the knife, that I didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone. But my mouth wouldn¡¯t move. The thing inside me was still gripping tight like it was deciding what to do next.

    Her breathing quickened, panic rising as she stumbled backward. The fear in her eyes grew, turning into something wild and animalistic. She knew what I was, what I looked like¡­ a killer, standing in the dark with blood on his hands. Her foot caught on something, a loose piece of trash or a bottle, and she nearly fell.

    I tried to fight it, to stop whatever was about to happen. I could feel the thing stir, its instincts sharpening. My body shifted forward, a subtle movement, but enough to make her flinch, her eyes widening as if she knew I was coming for her next. And then she turned and ran. The sound of her shoes pounding against the wet pavement echoed through the alley, her breath ragged and loud in the night. The panic surged higher inside me; she¡¯d seen everything. She was going to tell someone. They¡¯d know. They¡¯d come looking for me. How much of my face had she seen?

    Suddenly, the thing inside me loosened its grip, and all at once, I was shoved back into the driver¡¯s seat. It felt like surfacing after drowning, lungs gasping for air, my mind scrambling to make sense of the world around me. My body was my own again¡­ finally, but the horror hit me in the gut like a sledgehammer.

    I looked down. My hands, slick with dark, wet blood, trembled uncontrollably in the aftershocks of the thing¡¯s control. It coated my skin, dripping from my fingers like some sick reminder of what I¡¯d done. What it had made me do. The blade still hung in my hand, its cold surface glistening under the streetlight. It felt foreign, wrong¡­ but I couldn¡¯t drop it. I stared at the body crumpled at my feet, the unknown man¡¯s chest ripped open, blood pooling in the cracks of the pavement. His dead, glassy eyes stared up at me, wide with terror even in death.

    I felt bile rise in my throat. My knees almost buckled.

    ¡°What the fuck have I done?¡± I whispered. My voice was strangled and weak. I wanted to scream, to tear my skin off, to undo it all. But there it was¡­ the truth, staring at me in the shape of a mutilated corpse and blood-soaked hands.

    This guy didn¡¯t fit the bill. He wasn¡¯t a possibility. I hadn¡¯t found him through his heinous acts¡­ it just chose him, and I couldn¡¯t stop it.

    The weight of it crushed me. My heart pounded so hard I thought my chest might burst, my heart beating in my ears like a drum. I could still feel the echo of the thing inside me, its sick, twisted satisfaction lingering, feeding off the violence and death. I could feel it satisfied, even now.

    I dropped the blade. It hit the ground with a dull clang, the sound way too loud in the thick silence of the alley. My hands were shaking so badly that I had to clutch my arms to my chest just to stop them from betraying me. But the blood¡­ the blood was everywhere. It stained my shirt and smeared across my arms and face, some of it still warm, seeping into my skin like a curse I couldn¡¯t escape. I felt contaminated, ruined.

    He was just some guy. He could have been completely innocent¡­

    In only moments after I dropped my blade, it vanished from the physical world. It was gone.

    I couldn¡¯t stay there. Someone would come soon. The woman¡­ she would tell someone. The thought of it¡­ the look of pure terror in her eyes made my chest seize. She¡¯d seen everything. She¡¯d seen me standing over the body, the knife still dripping. It was the same look Shelta had in her eyes¡­

    They¡¯d be after me, the police, the witnesses, everyone. They¡¯d take one look and see the blood, see the body. They wouldn¡¯t care about what had taken control of me. They¡¯d see a murderer. Then questions would arise, and consequences could reach back, all the way to my family. I couldn''t let that happen.

    I backed up, my foot slipping in the blood pooling around the dead man. I almost fell, but I caught myself, heart racing, panic clawing at the edges of my vision. My pulse was thundering in my ears, drowning out everything else. I couldn¡¯t think¡­ just move.

    I turned and bolted. Panic and a shaking fear of what had just happened. It wasn¡¯t just the kill of the unknown man, but more so, it was the realization that the monster could reach out and take control¡­ whenever it wanted. It was getting stronger, and I didn¡¯t know what that meant now.

    The alley twisted and turned, the narrow streets closing in on me as I ran, my breath coming in ragged gasps as my mind raced with fear. The cold night air bit at my skin, but it wasn¡¯t enough to numb the guilt gnawing at my insides. Every corner I turned, I half-expected to see someone I cared for, judging me for what I had just done. I could practically feel humanity slipping further from me, the weight of my crime hanging over me like a black cloud. What just happened?

    I didn¡¯t know where I was going¡­ just away. Away from the body, the blood, the sickening reality of what I¡¯d become. Away from the horror of it all. But the guilt followed me like a shadow, creeping into every corner of my mind.

    And as I fled into the night, I knew one thing for certain: there was no outrunning the monster I¡¯d let in. He was there, just behind my eyes¡­ waiting.

    I had to get home, I had to hide from what I¡¯d done. I needed to be alone, to breathe. I couldn¡¯t let them know what I just did. I couldn¡¯t let anyone know. If they found out¡­ everything I built with them would crumble. My doubts from before resurfaced, but this time I didn¡¯t shake them off. I knew that, if they discovered what I had just done, they would be true. They would see the monster in me more than the tiny shred of humanity that I still clung to.

    My path through the woods was completely hidden beneath the dense canopy, the black sky overhead choked with thick, swirling clouds. Branches whipped against me as I stumbled forward, the cold air biting into my skin. Above, the trees were alive with the harsh, unrelenting caws of crows, their black forms littering the skeletal branches like shadows with wings. Their shrill cries cut through the night, echoing around me, unceasing, a chorus of fury that seemed to mock me with every step I took.

    "Shut up!" I roared, my voice raw and desperate, but the crows only answered with more furious cawing, the noise swelling, crashing down on me like a wave. My heart pounded in my chest as I broke into a run, the undergrowth snagging at my boots, but I barely felt it. I didn¡¯t care. I couldn¡¯t.

    I had to get back to my sanctuary, hidden deep within the woods. The place where I could shut out the world and, maybe, what I¡¯d just done. The darkness of the woods seemed to close in tighter, the crows¡¯ cries drowning out even my thoughts. It was like they were welcoming it back to its home, saying hello to the beast inside. They flocked to it, following me everywhere I went.

    I burst through the last line of trees, the small, weathered home looming ahead. It was concealed by the dense woods, nearly invisible unless you knew where to look just off the road that slithered out to it, a shelter built for isolation. I scrambled up the porch, my hands shaking as I grabbed the door. The crows above still cawed with unrelenting fury, their eyes glinting like tiny black stones in the shadows.

    ¡°Leave!¡± I screamed up at them, my voice cracking, fury and panic bleeding together. "Go!" But they didn''t. They did stop cawing, now just watching, silently.

    I couldn¡¯t bear it anymore. I shoved the door open and slammed it behind me, shutting out the world in one violent motion. The air inside the cabin was thick and still, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. My chest heaved as I stood in the darkness, fists clenched, my mind replaying the moment again and again. What I¡¯d done. What I couldn¡¯t take back.

    Outside, the crows began cawing again, their cries piercing through the walls like jagged blades, refusing to leave me alone. It was like they could sense the thing inside me.

    I sat in the suffocating darkness of my home, hidden deep within a forgotten corner of the woods. The air was thick and heavy with the scent of damp earth. Outside, a murder of crows perched in the tangled trees, their black forms blotting out the pale slivers of the night sky like a living shroud. Their presence was oppressive, surrounding me, cloaking my sanctuary in a restless, uneasy gloom. It was like they were hiding the beast from the world. And I was trapped here with it.

 Chapter 46 - Out of Hiding

    Carter had called me unexpectedly. The ring was the thing that pulled me out of my trance-like state. I had been inside the house, just frozen¡­ replaying the event over and over in my head. I feared that, if I left the house, or moved from my position in any way, it might take control again. I just stayed still and tried not to move. I was lying on the floor of Martin''s safe house when the phone rang.

    The call had come, and I winced at the name on the screen. Did he know? Did they find out somehow that I had murdered a man in cold blood? How long had I been in the safe house? Hours¡­ days? I was terrified at what the call would bring¡­ but the tiny shred of humanity that remained needed an anchor to hold onto to survive. I had to answer.

    The call was quick, a request for a meeting. I jumped at the chance, but as soon as I agreed, I regretted it. But I had to see him. I had to feel human again. I needed a human connection. In just a short while, I found myself standing on the small road in front of the overgrown home. I waited amongst the brush as Carter came to pick me up.

    I wasn¡¯t sure what Carter wanted when he called, or what he knew, but I was uneasy at his approach. I worried I might lose the things I had worked so hard to gain again. If they knew¡­ what I¡¯d done¡­ it was over.

    After only twenty minutes of pacing through the leaves and greenery, Carter''s black SUV pulled down the street. He stopped on the road right in front of me. I opened the passenger door to the rumbling vehicle. It was only Carter inside. I figured it¡¯d be just him, but I still eyed the back seats for others.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Carter greeted enthusiastically. His smiling face brought warmth into my soul. It made me start to forget about the weight I was carrying around.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Carter?¡± I asked, stepping into the enclosed cabin with a fa?ade of the old me.

    It felt good to be back with him. It reminded me of simpler times with the family. He seemed in a good mood, so my stress level eased to meet his. I pushed my memories away and tried to forget what I¡¯d done.

    As soon as my door clicked shut, Carter pulled away from my home. We accelerated through the tunnel of trees back towards the highway.

    ¡°I feel like every time I see you, I have to thank you, Sam,¡± Carter smirked. ¡°Clara wouldn¡¯t have made it without your intervention that night.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad I made it. I hope she wasn¡¯t too hurt,¡± I said.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be okay, but really, Sam,¡± he reiterated, ¡°thank you.¡±

    I nodded in the car, not saying anything to ruin the moment he was creating.

    He had spilled out too many emotions with me lately, and it seemed like this time he was trying to maintain his composure. I understood better than he realized. He didn¡¯t need to spill his guts for me to grasp the magnitude of how grateful they were, again.

    ¡°I have a proposition for you,¡± he said as I cruised within the cool enclosure of the vehicle. ¡°Everyone knows about you now. There isn¡¯t any point in hiding you anymore, and with everything that¡¯s going on, we figured you should just come over¡­ openly. Zeke and Arthur know everything now.¡± Carter explained it all. ¡°But don¡¯t worry, we haven¡¯t told them about your family.¡±

    I eased my breath out at his words. He had me coiled in my seat, about to spring out in anxiety.

    ¡°Annabelle and Bartley talk to you?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yep,¡± he answered quickly with a nod. ¡°Shelta came too. We all know what she saw when you went with them.¡±

    I gritted my teeth in preparation.

    ¡°If it¡¯s true, and the Grimwoods are behind everything lately, then we¡¯ll need you, Sam.¡±

    I was shocked¡­ stunned at his words. He glazed over it so seamlessly. Did he really not know? Did the Wicklows¡­ or maybe just Shelta, keep what she had seen inside of me a secret? I shifted focus, forcing myself to stay on the topic at hand.

    ¡°How do they know it was him?¡± I asked, still uncertain about the effectiveness of their abilities.

    ¡°Their ways are hard for even me to understand. In my years, I¡¯ve learned to just trust them. They protect everyone in their own way, and sometimes it¡¯s better to just believe in what they understand,¡± he explained.

    ¡°Even Annabelle seemed pretty sure that it was Peter, even before we went to see Shelta,¡± I told him.

    ¡°Yeah, she told us the same,¡± Carter informed. ¡°They can feel something that reminds them of their time with the Grimwood family. But Peter was different. They say his presence is specific, and they say they can feel glimpses of his presence.¡±

    ¡°Did they say anything else about how he was still alive? Do they still think that he lived through what I did to him?¡± I asked.

    Carter nodded, ¡°They know it was him there at the brewery¡­ and at the cave.¡±

    ¡°The cave? He wasn¡¯t there,¡± I said, pretty sure of myself.

    ¡°He was,¡± Carter assured. ¡°There was this moment when we were running away that I saw something. It was a person down at the cave entrance. They were standing beneath the Olitiau, almost telling it what to do¡­ controlling it. He was in the woods that night, talking to us somehow as we ran. I could hear laughing. The one standing with the creature had these eyes¡­ they were glowing green. It was¡­ weird¡­¡± Carter trailed off in thought.

    ¡°And the Wicklows think that was him?¡± I questioned again.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Carter nodded, ¡°but his current status is still unknown.¡±

    I sighed with worry. I killed evil in the world without hesitation. I always had since I became a monster. But I had never come across someone that wouldn¡¯t stay dead. I was a beast formed and fed by the deaths of others; how was I supposed to fight something that didn¡¯t stay dead? What power did I have against someone like that?

    ¡°Nobody knows anything for sure, but we¡¯re keeping our eyes open. If we hear of any more missing people, then we¡¯ll have Shelta and Annabelle reach out. They¡¯ll be able to see if Peter¡¯s back. Until then¡­ we can¡¯t really do anything?¡± Carter admitted.

    ¡°So¡­ what are we doing?¡± I asked, curious about where he was taking me.

    ¡°Our family¡¯s leaving the area for a little while. It¡¯s kind of last minute, but we wanted to get out and blow off some steam,¡± Carter explained. ¡°Others in our family want to meet also. Word has spread throughout the family we still have that¡¯s scattered across the country. They know about Allen, and they know something happened with Eleanor. They don¡¯t know about you yet, not like Zeke and Arthur, but it¡¯s only a matter of time.¡±

    ¡°How did they take it?¡± I asked about his cousins.

    ¡°Zeke was pissed once he found out the full story about Eleanor. They¡¯re struggling with the specifics, just like the WIcklows did. But, it''s mostly just the fact that I kept the truth from them. Also, it¡¯s hard for him to understand how I tolerate having ¡°monsters¡± like you and Martin around. They don¡¯t know everything¡­ not like I do. Arthur¡­ well, Arthur doesn¡¯t speak his opinions often, so he¡¯s hard to read. I think he¡¯s just observing, waiting to see what happens with you, and Martin.¡± Carter added, ¡°They¡¯re confused. They don¡¯t know what to make of you and what you¡¯re capable of, so that makes things harder for them¡­ considering our occupation.¡±

    Carter seemed stressed as he explained. His heart beat harder as the words were spoken.

    ¡°Where are you going,¡± I asked eagerly.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to the Lake of the Ozarks. We have a house right on the lake that we don¡¯t get to enjoy enough. We figured now was the time to just take off and go. We haven¡¯t had a family reunion like this since Allen and Autumn were kids, and the lake house is big enough for everyone. Plus, Annabelle thinks it would be best if we left the area for a while. Not knowing if Peter is here or not¡­ he could lash out at any moment, and we¡¯d never know. We¡¯re unsure if our barriers would work on him, so if he found out where we live¡­ he could potentially walk right in.¡±

    He was right. Peter could take them at any moment. Eleanor, Autumn, and even Carter would all be taken from my life forever.

    ¡°How long will you be gone?¡± I asked with worry in my heart.

    ¡°That really just depends on the rest of our family. They¡¯re going to have questions, and we¡¯ll have to navigate how to answer them so we can keep your secrets,¡± Carter said as he made a turn at a random stop sign. ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem. However, Zeke and Arthur are the only issues I can foresee. I¡¯m not sure how much they¡¯ll keep a secret for me.¡±

    ¡°Who is this other family? Why haven¡¯t I ever heard you talk about them before?¡± I asked curiously.

    ¡°Well, without getting too deep into our family tree, I¡¯ll tell you a little more about our family. I am one of three siblings, just as my father was one of three siblings. His name was Andrew. Zeke and Arthur had a brother, James. They were the three sons of my uncle, Art. Arthur is the oldest of the three, and his father¡¯s namesake. It is my second uncle¡¯s side of our family that want to meet. There are quite a few of them, unlike Art¡¯s side. My other uncle¡¯s name is Christopher. Those three were the pinnacle of our family when we were all kids. Frank, Clara, and I looked up to Dad, Uncle Art, and Uncle Chris like they were made of steel. They were so strong, so untouchable. They taught us how to fight, how to hunt, and how to survive in this world of monsters. When I was a kid, I thought that they¡¯d live forever.¡±

    Carter seemed to be lost in his mind as he spoke. There was this look in his eyes like he was back in time as a kid again. Then there was a faint hint of sadness. He missed them.

    ¡°Are you happy you¡¯ll get to see your uncle again?¡± I genuinely asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he answered, snapping out of his daze. ¡°Things are different now, unfortunately. Zeke and I are the leaders of our families. Uncle Christopher is much older, not physically hunting as much as he used to. He¡¯s more of a tactician now. He also had three kids, two daughters and one son. He¡¯s harder on us now. Nothing like when we were kids. Ever since my father died, and Zeke¡¯s, Uncle Chris has been different. I honestly don¡¯t know how he¡¯d react to Martin¡¯s involvement, let alone someone we still haven¡¯t identified¡­¡± Carter looked over at me, ¡°you.¡±

    There was a moment of silence in the car as I processed the information Carter had just told me.

    ¡°Lakehouse, huh?¡± I forced a chuckle. ¡°I never knew you guys had anything like that,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, we haven¡¯t been able to get away to it for a while now. We¡¯ve got a boat, a pool, there¡¯s golf¡­ all sorts of things to do. We used to go quite often. To try and reset when hunting was a little heavier. Hunting hasn¡¯t been as heavy these last few years, so we haven¡¯t felt the need to hit our escape.¡± he explained.

    ¡°A pool at the lake?¡± I actually laughed.

    Carter laughed at my question, ¡°Well, sometimes you¡¯ve gotta have a pool, too.¡±

    We both laughed. It was nice being lighthearted and cheery with Carter again. I hadn¡¯t felt this with him in a while. I needed it too¡­ after what I did to that man. The quick thought made my lips seal shut again. I didn¡¯t deserve laughter.

    As the car eased to silence, Carter prepared another question. ¡°Let me ask you something else.¡±

    I nodded to him, prepared for his more serious tone.

    ¡°I¡¯ve asked you this before, but¡­ what do you want from our family?¡± he asked.

    I was taken by surprise, and honestly not sure how to answer. I thought we were past this.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want anything¡­ I told you that before¡­¡± I was unsure where this was coming from.

    ¡°How do you feel about our family?¡± he adjusted his request.

    I took a second to adjust myself in my seat. I wanted to be honest, but I couldn¡¯t say anything that would drive a wedge between me and them. I definitely couldn¡¯t tell him about what had just happened that night behind the convenience store.

    ¡°I just feel¡­ I feel like,¡± I struggled to speak what I felt deep down. ¡°I miss my family,¡± I admitted slowly. ¡°The ones that still live on back home. I had to leave instantly¡­ as soon as I knew. I felt the urges of this thing,¡± I motioned towards myself, ¡°to actually hurt them. I cut myself off and never looked back. I was too scared of what I¡¯d do. Every time I felt like I could go back, I pictured myself killing one of them¡­ all of them. I¡¯ve stayed away because I wanted to protect them. But it¡¯s made me lonely, Carter.¡± I was unapologetically honest. ¡°I¡¯m tired¡­ and I feel alone in a very dark world I¡¯m still getting used to, and my world¡­ seems darker every day.¡± I shook my head slightly. ¡°Once I met all of you¡­ I don¡¯t feel that as much.¡±

    He nodded throughout my slow, thoughtful explanation.

    ¡°What about Autumn?¡± he asked.

    I wasn¡¯t sure if he knew something about our intentions to meet up alone. We hadn¡¯t yet, but maybe he caught wind of something. Maybe Annabelle told him¡­ fucking bitch.

    ¡°I won¡¯t lie to you¡­ I care about her.¡± I paused. ¡°Just saying that out loud feels wrong for me to say. I never thought I¡¯d feel anything like that for someone again, not after I had to abandon my wife. I thought I¡¯d be alone until the day I finally died. Sometimes I don¡¯t think something like me is supposed to have that kind of life anymore. But now¡­ I think about her all the time. I think about all of you constantly.¡± I tried to reign myself back in, ¡°I want to protect all of you as much as I can. The little bit of good I can do with what¡¯s left of this life¡­¡±

    Carter was utterly straight-faced as we rolled towards his property.

    ¡°What is the difference between your family and us?¡± he asked.

    ¡°What do you mean exactly?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Why did you abandon them, but you¡¯re sticking around with us?¡± he clarified.

    I really thought hard about why I had done it. I wasn¡¯t sure if I had ever really put it into words before this point.

    ¡°Ignorance is bliss, right? They know nothing of the real world we live in. You already know everything. It felt easier to stay with you guys since you were already so wrapped up in this world. If I were to go back to my own family¡­ I wouldn¡¯t just be coming alone¡­ with whatever this thing inside me is. I¡¯d be bringing the entire supernatural world with me. I don¡¯t know how to do that¡­ or if I should.¡± I admitted defeatedly.

    I hung my head as we slowly pulled into the driveway of his sprawling home.

    ¡°Well¡­ I think you don¡¯t give yourself enough credit,¡± Carter took me by surprise. ¡°You are you, Sam. That thing you turn into is still you. If it wasn¡¯t, then I don¡¯t think we¡¯d still be here.¡± He looked like he was really thinking about his words. ¡°That part of you still makes me worry, but knowing you¡¯re around keeps me calm. I know you¡¯ll protect everyone better than anyone else. We¡¯ll try to help you in any way we can.¡±

    Carter sounded like Frank.

    I sighed deeply at his words, wishing that it was true. If only he knew what I had just done. The life that was taken by brutal, vicious force in that dark alley. That thing was not a part of me. It was something else¡­ and I was more scared of it, and what it could do, now more than ever.

    We pulled onto the property and the Chasse house came into view. The sun glanced off all the windows on the front of the familiar house. A few cars littered the driveway that wrapped around the side. We rolled into the garage quietly and out of sight of any other family members.

    Carter turned the key to kill the engine. Then he surprised me.

    ¡°We want you with us¡­ you are important to this family. Don¡¯t forget that. We know what you¡¯ve lost, and we won¡¯t forget what you¡¯ve done for us.¡±

    I had trouble maintaining my emotions as we exited the vehicle. I stepped out into the garage, feeling disgusted by his words. Not what he said, but how I was just going along with it. I was playing pretend like I hadn¡¯t just murdered someone.

    ¡°There is something I need from you Sam,¡± Carter added as he rounded the back of the car. ¡°It¡¯s the main reason I brought you here today.¡±

    ¡°Name it,¡± I said without hesitation. What could I refuse from him after his acceptance?

    ¡°I have an idea, but it is a very delicate matter that must be handled strategically. Eleanor, Autumn, and the rest want you to come with us and just face the rest of the family. They think we can keep your family back in Texas a secret while sharing you with the rest of our family,¡± Carter explained.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t see it that way,¡± I assumed.

    ¡°No. Eleanor and Autumn are blinded by their connection with you, Eleanor specifically. She won¡¯t back down when it comes to you, and she thinks she can make my uncle and everyone else see what she sees in you,¡± Carter said.

    I felt something inside my chest when he spoke about Autumn¡¯s connection with me. What had she said? How did she act when it came to me?

    ¡°That won¡¯t happen, will it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I think there will be too many people, and too many questions being asked to maintain your secret. They¡¯re going to ask you to come¡­ but I need you to tell us you can¡¯t. I need you to make an excuse so I can work things out my own way.¡±

    ¡°I understand. I already planned on searching the city for any signs of Peter, or anything else that may be lingering. I was going to do that anyway, so I¡¯ll make it seem like it¡¯s urgent to me¡­ if you think this is best. But why did you bring me here? We could have done this over the phone, especially since anyone could walk around the corner at any moment and hear us talking?¡± I asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s another thing. Besides the fact that I wanted to see you before we left, I wanted Zeke and Arthur to see you one last time before we met with the rest of our family. They barely remember the short time they had with you at our dinner the other night. The most prominent memory they have of you is the moment they saw your other half in the brewery. I don¡¯t want them to meet with the rest of our family, with that being the last thing they remember about you. I think if they can see you in human form again, they may be easier to sway. If we give you an open invitation, and you refuse to stay back and continue the hunt for threats in the city¡­ it just might be what we need. Especially if you¡¯re tracking Peter. It may be the beginning of trust for the rest of them.¡±

    Everything he said made sense. I wanted to help him¡­ if only to gain more trust and a deeper relationship with Carter. I felt a duty to him now. I felt like I was more in the family than ever before, even though most of them weren¡¯t in the loop on this. I owed him this so he could make things right again, and I could continue to protect their family the way I had. I didn¡¯t know how long they¡¯d be gone, or what I¡¯d do until they got back, but I¡¯d do it. I¡¯d miss them all¡­ especially Autumn, and the time I still needed to have with her. But if this would help my situation with everyone¡­

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I said with confidence.

    Carter nodded with a smile, ¡°I knew you would. Still, thank you.¡±

    I nodded.

    Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming into the garage. I turned my head in the direction of the invaders, warning Carter of the intrusion into our privacy. He looked on with me, aware that our conversation had to end.

    Allen and Eloise walked inside the garage from the front yard. They were holding hands as they paced quickly into the open enclosure. They looked unburdened. They were happy¡­ until they connected eyes with me. I don¡¯t think they expected to see me standing there with Carter. As soon as they saw me, they both stopped in their tracks.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Allen stumbled over his words at the sight of me. His face was shaved, but he had kept his hair long and tied back in a ponytail. For some reason, I didn¡¯t think he looked like an asshole like Patrick. I guess that was because I knew Allen wasn¡¯t going for some kind of style.

    ¡°Allen, how¡¯s everything at Jane¡¯s?¡± I asked, honestly curious about how they were adapting.

    He looked hesitant to answer, ¡°It¡¯s good. She¡¯s made us feel at home out there. She says that soon we¡¯ll be able to have our own place. Once she thinks we¡¯re ready, then we¡¯ll only have to go back for the full moons. That way she can maintain everyone when the beast takes over¡­¡± he trailed off, looking to Eloise who was stepping forward to me.

    ¡°Hello, Sam,¡± Eloise stuttered in her English from beside Allen. She was still scared of what she remembered of the night I saved them. It was in her eyes. The beast still haunted her mind. Yet, she looked happier than I remembered her to be as we returned from France. Her dark hair was pulled back to flow down the white shirt she was wearing.

    ¡°Hey, Eloise,¡± I greeted her.

    I could tell it was still hard for them to be around me. They were trying, but they still remembered things.

    Carter waved me forward inside the house as Allen and Eloise packed some items into the back of the car. They both lifted large coolers that were slammed full of ice and drinks. For their size and stature, I could tell that it was their own beasts inside that gave them their strength. They were going to the lake as well. They had time until the next full moon came, and Jane must¡¯ve been comfortable with this trip if they were here. I was curious how the others of the family, this Uncle Chris, would take Allen and Eloise¡¯s as werewolves.

    I stepped inside the house, behind Carter who led me to the kitchen. We came upon Eleanor, who was packing another cooler full of snacks for the getaway. Her long-darkened hair flowed down to the bottom of her shirt, putting off scents similar to Autumn. She was wearing flip-flops and beach clothes over a purple swimsuit. I think they were all dressed and ready to hit the water as soon as they arrived at the lake. It reminded me of trips my family would take to the beach every summer when I was a kid.

    ¡°Sam,¡± she said excitedly as she tossed the items in her hands to the counter and came to hug my neck. ¡°I¡¯m glad you made it. Are you going to come with us?¡± she asked hopefully.

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted. ¡°Carter just told me about it, so I haven¡¯t had much time to think about if it is a good idea for me.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you are comfortable with the idea, you are more than welcome. It will only be our family. I¡¯m sure Carter¡¯s told you about the rest of our family that we¡¯ll be meeting. The Talbots and Wicklows won¡¯t be joining us for this¡­ but it might get a little awkward for a little while if I¡¯m being honest,¡± she said. ¡°We all want you there¡­ even Zeke. Though, I don¡¯t think he¡¯d admit it to you. Even he is thankful for what you did at the brewery. He¡¯s come around these last few days. He¡¯ll need more time to understand though.¡±

    I nodded, not wanting to give her any false hope. Even if I wanted to, I don¡¯t know if I could tame the monster within to take him on a lake trip. I honestly didn¡¯t know if I could pull that off. I doubt the creature inside would allow me to have fun. Or if it would stay inside the cage. I was terrified it might try to take over at any minute.

    Then, as I talked with Eleanor and Carter, Autumn made her way down to the kitchen. She had on a yellow two-piece suit that was barely hidden behind her cutoff shorts. Her hair was twisted around into a dark brown stream that flowed over her right shoulder. The whole upper half of her body was almost completely exposed down in the kitchen. Her dark eyes connected with mine as we saw each other again after just a few hours away. At that moment, I wanted to go to the lake with them. I wanted to abandon my plans with Carter and join them on the spot. Then, as soon as she saw me with her parents, we all four sat in silence.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    The monster stirred beneath the surface, skimming past my eyes. I could feel it pushing me towards Autumn. Not trying to take over, but urging me forward.

    Autumn¡¯s face blushed as she realized I was right there, seeing her that way. She didn¡¯t know anyone else was around, especially me. She was frozen, unsure if she should stay or turn back.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you''re back with us, Sam.¡± Eleanor pulled me in for another hug. ¡°I feel like we¡¯re finally back to where we were before everything happened.¡±

    I agreed, ¡°I know. I never thought it would be this way. It¡¯s nice to have people in my life again.¡±

    Frank came trotting around the corner, ¡°I knew I heard your voice.¡±

    I smirked at his lightheartedness.

    ¡°Neat trick the other night, man. Scary stuff,¡± Frank joked. He walked up and patted my shoulder like he always did. ¡°It¡¯s good to have you back, Sam.¡±

    ¡°No Jane?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Frank replied. ¡°She¡¯s got things to do with the pack. She has things to do after Bran, well¡­ you know. Plus, I¡¯m not sure how Uncle Chris would take her¡­ with everything else.¡±

    I nodded in understanding. Bran was a big part of her life. But he was gone now. However, I didn¡¯t understand one bit when it came to the pack mentality. I wasn¡¯t a part of any pack. I was a loner, and the Talbot dynamic was as foreign to me as Eloise¡¯s primary language.

    ¡°I have to admit,¡± I said, ¡°a trip to the lake sounds nice. But I don¡¯t think I can make it either. I had planned on going back down into the caves to look for signs of Peter¡­ or anything else down there.¡± I tried to be like a cold stone. Solid and unchanging.

    ¡°You really don¡¯t have to do that, Sam,¡± Eleanor urged. ¡°Shelta and Annabelle said that they¡¯d feel him if he did somehow come back again. Now that Shelta knows it could be Peter, she¡¯ll be able to tell if he survived and pops back up. They¡¯ll tell us the instant they think he¡¯s alive, but even they had to admit that they thought those odds were improbable¡­ after what you did to him.¡±

    A grim tone fell over us all in the kitchen. They remembered violent flashes of my monstrous form in the shadows of that crumbling building.

    I nodded, ¡°I know, but I won¡¯t feel comfortable unless I check out everything I can.¡±

    ¡°You sure,¡± Autumn asked in a way that enticed me to abandon my plans. To everyone else in the room, it probably seemed normal. Maybe I was just reading into things too hard, but I felt like I could see what she wanted in her eyes. She had so many plans laid out in her mind, ready to finally get the time alone that we both wanted. We still needed to talk and figure out what our relationship¡­ was. ¡°You might like it¡­¡±

    I felt the monster actually pushing me to go. I wanted her alone again¡­ in that swimsuit. I almost thought my mouth was opening to speak on the monster¡¯s behalf like he was in control again. I had to snap myself out of it.

    Just go numb, go numb.

    ¡°Once I¡¯ve been down all of my paths below, maybe I¡¯ll reach out and see if you¡¯ll still be out there. Maybe you could send me an address¡± I said quickly, cutting my eyes to Carter so he¡¯d know I wasn¡¯t serious.

    ¡°Already sent,¡± Carter answered as he flipped his phone closed. He didn¡¯t send a text.

    Autumn smiled through her hidden sadness. I could tell she never thought of me refusing their offer as a real possibility. However, I was feeling the reality of me surprising her at the lake becoming an actual possibility.

    ¡°This will be perfect, actually,¡± I said to them. ¡°I can run down every inch of the city in the next week to look for any signs of Peter or more missing people. I won¡¯t be able to calm down until I put my eyes everywhere above and below the city.¡±

    ¡°Well, do what you must, Sam.¡± Eleanor patted my arm, ¡°If you decide to come, just head that way. We¡¯d love to spend time with you at the lake¡­ as family.¡±

    I nodded. I couldn¡¯t speak to that. I might let what I was feeling for them crack through. I had to control my emotions because I felt a lot after this unexpected invitation. Even though I had to refuse, the thought of the invite weighed heavy on me.

    They all scattered, rushing to finish their last-minute packing for the trip. But as they drifted away, Autumn¡¯s eyes found mine, a quick flick towards her room.

    At first, I thought I imagined it, a fleeting glance. I hesitated, glancing around, unsure if I was reading too much into it. But then, she did it again, more deliberate this time, her gaze urging me toward the stairs. She wasn¡¯t messing around.

    I swallowed the knot in my throat, nodding with what little calm I could muster, and silently followed her to the upper floor. Every step felt agonizingly slow, the tension heavy between us as we moved through the quiet house. When we reached her room, she closed the door softly, almost too softly, like we both feared the slightest noise would shatter this fragile moment.

    And then, finally, we were alone. Just us.

    She turned back to me slowly, unsure of what to say now that we were in the situation.

    "I really wish you¡¯d come," Autumn said, her voice tight with frustration. "I don¡¯t know if I can wait to see you again. There¡¯s so much I need to ask, so much I want to say. If you came with us¡­ maybe we could find some time alone at the lake.¡±

    I tried to speak, ¡°I know. I want to talk to you too. I just won¡¯t feel like it¡¯s safe for you all to come back until I check things out more.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°But you really don¡¯t have to worry. We¡¯ve been living like this our whole lives. Sometimes you have to just stop and smell the roses,¡± she urged, pushing herself off the door towards me.

    My heart started pounding, beating like it was in overdrive. I tried to remain calm, but the closer she got, the more I felt my blood pressure rise.

    She stepped toward me, slow and deliberate, like she was testing the air with each inch, making sure it was safe to come closer. The space between us felt electric. I could sense everything about her. I felt her pulse flickering beneath her skin, the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breath mixing with the quiet air around us. Her dark brown eyes locked onto mine, intense in the dim light of her room, drawing me in.

    The proximity was overwhelming, her skin exposed in just shorts and a bikini top, every subtle movement magnified in my mind. Her toned muscles flexed and relaxed beneath her flesh. When she finally stood face-to-face with me, her lips brushed against mine, soft and hesitant, like she was feeling her way through the moment. The connection hit me like a shockwave, a surge of something too powerful for such a gentle touch. My insides churned, a mess of confusion and need as if that brief kiss had set everything inside me into a chaotic spin. The monster was pushing for more.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she slowly stepped back, taking away the closeness I wanted so badly. ¡°I don¡¯t know how I¡¯m supposed to feel around you.¡±

    The blood pulsing in my veins barely slowed.

    ¡°I know,¡± I agreed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest. The things I felt before are¡­ still there. I still feel a certain way for you, but I just don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to do,¡± she shook her head as she leaned back against the wall by her door. ¡°What do you feel?¡±

    I took a deep breath, ¡°I¡­¡± I caught myself. I didn¡¯t know if what I wanted to say was what she needed. Maybe she needed something normal, like Patrick; maybe not. ¡°I still think of you the same as I always have. Nothing has changed for me, but I know that might not be true for you. I wasn¡¯t honest with you¡­ you didn¡¯t know me. You still don¡¯t¡­ not fully.¡±

    Autumn nodded, looking strained in her mind.

    I eyed her intently. It was hard not to look at her half-naked body. I found myself looking too much, so I tried to not look directly at her. She noticed.

    Autumn looked down and smirked, ¡°Sorry. This probably isn¡¯t making things easier for you.¡± She walked over to her bed and picked up a white V-neck shirt. She slid it on over herself before returning to me. ¡°As soon we get back, if you can¡¯t make it out there, let¡¯s make the time. While I¡¯m gone, I¡¯ll make sure I know what I want to say to you.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Okay.¡±

    Autumn stepped back up to me, slowly running her hands over my arms and wrapping them around me. She squeezed me tightly, again examining what she felt around me.

    I could feel every contour of her entire body pressing into me with my acute hypersense. I didn¡¯t want it to end. I just wanted to stand there forever. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, taking in her scent as much as I could. It was a little token of her I could hang onto until I saw her again. My heart was pounding again. I didn¡¯t want her to leave.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to hurry. Maybe I really can meet you all out there,¡± I offered, hoping Carter could work his magic and call me unannounced.

    She smiled, ¡°I hope.¡± She pulled away from me, unfortunately, and walked around to grab a few small bags that she¡¯d need for the week. I took the bags from her and followed her out of her room.

    I was sad to leave the very short moment in her room, but we had no time. They were literally about to leave, and every second I was out of sight was another that they knew I might be off somewhere with Autumn. We couldn¡¯t hide in her room for long. Only long enough to get her stuff.

    I took her bags to the garage, where I packed them in behind Eloise and Allen¡¯s stuff.

    Everyone had met up at the house and was ready to head to the Lake of the Ozarks. There was a convoy of vehicles ready to pull out of the driveway. Wayland and Clara walked into the garage with little Delilah, who had goggles and floaties already slid up her tiny arms.

    ¡°Auti-Auti,¡± Delilah squealed as she saw Autumn standing in the garage. ¡°Are you going to go swimming with me?¡±

    She was adorable.

    ¡°Yes, I am,¡± Autumn laughed, hugging her cousin. She tickled her neck as she ran up to her.

    ¡°Is Mr. Sam coming, too?¡± Delilah asked as she looked straight at me.

    It hurt to interact with her. I thought of Caydee¡­ what she¡¯d look like in a few years, and how she¡¯d sound. Delilah still brought out the pain and loss that I tried to keep buried.

    ¡°No, not this time,¡± Autumn answered her as I just smiled at the little girl.

    ¡°That¡¯s okay, Mr. Sam. Sometimes we don¡¯t always get to go swimming,¡± she informed me. ¡°But maybe if you¡¯re a good girl like me, then you can go next time.¡±

    The entirety of the Chasse family looked at me after Delilah¡¯s comment and burst into laughter. I joined them all instantly. The irony of her words and just the tone of what she said was hilarious, considering who she was talking to.

    Wayland stepped up to me as soon as the laughter cleared, ¡°You¡¯re looking into Peter?¡± Wayland was smart.

    I nodded, ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll see what I can find out while you guys are gone.¡±

    Wayland nodded in agreement, ¡°I think that¡¯s a good idea.¡± He looked at Carter and Frank as he spoke to me.

    They all agreed with his statements. We needed to be certain of his whereabouts, just in case we were dealing with someone who couldn¡¯t be killed.

    ¡°We would love it if you found the chance to come,¡± Wayland added. He had come a long way in his opinion of me.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± I said. ¡°But I appreciate the offer.¡±

    He nodded, accepting my thanks.

    Just then, Zeke, Arthur, and Kayla stepped out into the open garage with the rest of us. Zeke and Kayla walked into the lightly chuckling group, unaware of my presence. Arthur seemed aware of me as soon as he walked into the area. Then, Zeke and his daughter realized what was going on as soon as they were fully down in the garage.

    They all walked over, slightly hesitant but calm at the state of everyone else. Carter saw them approach and prepared.

    ¡°I know you¡¯ve all met before, but¡­ obviously, things are a little more out in the open now. Apologies,¡± Carter didn¡¯t like having to keep his family in the dark, but I could I knew they had already spoken about me before.

    ¡°Thanks, Carter. We appreciate it,¡± Zeke warmly accepted Carter¡¯s initiative to tell the truth. ¡°Hello, Sam. It¡¯s nice to meet you again¡­ knowing the full truth.¡± He looked over to Eleanor, ¡°Knowing what you did.¡±

    ¡°Sam,¡± Arthur spoke, actually stepping up and acknowledging me, unlike our first interaction. I shook his hand quickly, but I could tell he was gripping harder than usual, trying to gauge my strength. ¡°Good to see you again.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s strange¡­ to know that was you,¡± Kayla slowly reached out with a quivering hand, ¡°the other night.¡±

    I shook her hand gently, seeing the fear in her blue eyes, and a slight shake in her bones as she made contact with my hand.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re not just some regular monster¡­ are you, Sam?¡± Zeke asked.

    ¡°No,¡± I returned. ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡±

    ¡°That may be true, as are my thoughts on you, Martin, Jane, and this new Alex character,¡± Zeke said out loud. ¡°But I¡¯m starting to see things¡­ differently,¡± Zeke admitted. ¡°If Carter trusts you, then I am trying to keep an open mind.¡±

    ¡°Silver doesn¡¯t affect you, huh?¡± Arthur asked me.

    I shook my head, ¡°Nope.¡±

    Arthur nodded with steady eyes.

    ¡°In any case,¡± the tall Zeke cut in, ¡°you¡¯ve done a lot for our cousins, and we thank you for it. I think we still have a lot to understand first, but I hope we can develop a relationship with you as they have.¡± Zeke seemed sincere in his words; Arthur seemed calmly observing and calculating, and Kayla was fearful at what she saw the other night in the brewery.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said to them all, ¡°don¡¯t let me hold you up. You guys get out of here. I can head back on foot,¡± I offered.

    ¡°Oh no, Sam,¡± Eleanor choked out, ¡°we can take you back.¡±

    ¡°No, really, it''s okay. I¡¯ll start my hunt down in the caves. Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± I assured them.

    After they all said their goodbyes to me, they piled into their vehicles and buckled up. Autumn looked over to me one more time before she got into the Suburban. Then, she joined her mother and father inside the vehicle. I paced towards the woods as the Chasse convoy sped away from the sprawling hunter¡¯s home. I could see Autumn and Eleanor waving to me as their car passed me right at the tree line where I¡¯d disappear into the growth.

    In a quick moment, they were all gone, and I was sprinting through the solitary greenery at breakneck speeds. The Chasse family had left the city, and I was all alone again. I needed to hunt for any sign of Peter.

    <hr>

    It was night again, and the Chasse family had made it to the lake. Autumn had sent me a selfie of her sunbathing on a lounge chair beside their pool. It was very unexpected, and I wasn¡¯t sure what to say back to her.

    She said, ¡®Hope you can make it.¡¯ I could see some sort of drink I knew probably had booze in it. Autumn and Kayla were probably cutting loose with a few drinks by the pool. Her skin already looked darker, with a hint of red. I could see Kayla right beside her in a similar chair. It seemed like they were relaxed and free of the stress their lives carried.

    Maybe she had spilled the beans to Kayla about our moment in her room. I wondered what Autumn said about me.

    I wanted to finish my hunt, call Carter, and cancel the agreement we had so I could be right there beside her. When I was in her room, I wanted to rip that yellow top from her body to expose the rest of her to me. I felt a rush in my mind to get there for her. I wanted to see her. I started feeling my mind abandoning the hunt for Peter.

    The beast was stirring, my teeth were burning through¡­

    Stop¡­ what am I doing? I¡¯m in control!

    I felt the monster trying to shift my mind and subtly make decisions for me. It was using my own memories to entice and move me in the direction it wanted. Was I still being affected? Was the monster about to rip me from my mind from my body? Was it about to take me somewhere and murder again> Or¡­ was Peter still alive, reaching out to me with his unseen power, looking for a crack in the monster¡¯s armor? If he even was alive¡­ how could he be? How could he cheat death¡­ there was supposed to be no way, or I would get the name¡­ from him.

    I doubted the Wicklows. Once, they claimed no one could return from the dead, and I proved them wrong. Now they said death couldn¡¯t hold Peter, and I wasn¡¯t sure. But if it was true, I had to keep hunting him. Jon, the entity, warned me to kill the one provoking the monster inside. Peter could be dangerous for me. I needed control. I had to do this for Carter. He had a plan, and I had to follow it.

    The whole time since they left, I had been underground. I fell beneath the city only minutes after I saw the blacked-out Suburban passing into the cloak of the forest as the rocketed away down the roads out of town. The craggy pathways beneath the city were slick with condensation and moisture. Yet, the deeper I traversed the stable stone caverns, the colder it got. I did what I always did; heightened my senses as far as possible without transforming so I could retain my small size and speed. I wasn¡¯t small myself, but compared to the monster I changed into, I was able to navigate certain areas much easier. Yet, no matter how fast or how far I went, I couldn¡¯t find anyone else. I only ever found traces of scents or footprints that would disperse into the darkness of the caves.

    Just beneath the Lemp Brewery, I caught an odd scent that led me to something unusual in the depths below. The tunnel I followed twisted through the dark, descending into a cavern that was vast at first, with the ceiling lost somewhere high above in the shadows. As I ventured deeper, the space narrowed, the wide void shrinking to a man-sized slit in the stone wall. I had to force my way through, scraping my face and shoulders against the rough, jagged mineral deposits lining the entrance. The rock was cool, gritty, and unforgiving as it pressed against me.

    On the other side, I emerged into an unexpected sight: a hidden river, running fast and deep beneath the city. The cavern opened wide again, forming a cylindrical chamber that stretched in opposite directions as far as I could see. The river sliced through the center of the cave, its waters dark and turbulent, rushing past with a force that echoed through the hollow space. The air was damp, and cool, and carried the unmistakable scent of fresh water and ancient stone. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder where that river came from, or where it was headed, hidden away beneath the city like a secret.

    I waded into the water without a second thought. The current surged with such speed, it had to lead somewhere¡­ maybe straight to the pits. If Peter was down there, lurking in the shadows, I¡¯d find him. And I¡¯d kill him. But it wasn¡¯t just Peter; something else ancient could be waiting, something twisted and dangerous, hidden deep in those forgotten depths. Something had sent Mercy, Phineas, and Charles up from the depths. If I could ever make my way down there, I could slaughter whatever hid beneath the city.

    The water pulled me under before I could dwell on it. My feet lifted from the rocky riverbed, and I was swept away, the current violently dragging me into the unknown, rushing toward whatever waited in the dark below. I smashed my head, back, legs, and arms against rocks and spikes of stone as the river pulled me into darkness at unimaginable speeds.

    I flailed around like a ragdoll underwater, smacking into things way harder than I was. In the middle of getting absolutely pummeled, a scene from an old movie popped into my head. Black Sheep, when Chris Farley is tumbling down that hill, getting the absolute shit beat out of him. Despite getting the snot knocked out of me by boulders and stalagmites, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh, picturing myself as the aquatic version of Farley, just bouncing off everything like it was a slapstick routine.

    Wherever it was taking me, I was going fast. The sound of the rushing water filled my head, only interrupted by the grunts of pain from the brutal ride. I changed directions hard like I was being sucked up into a different path than I started on. Then I changed directions again, and again, smashing into the walls of each tunnel as I went. Suddenly, the pressure I felt from all the rushing and changing water got really tight¡­ and then disappeared. I felt like I was in a new place. I was still underwater, but this was a much slower-moving body of water. I could see a light dimly lit and gleaming off the surface very far above me. I swam up to it.

    My head broke the surface of the water, and I sucked in a sharp breath. It smelled like shit. The foul water covered me in its wretched odor. I looked up at the darkened sky, only seeing the moon¡¯s light breaking through the smog of the city. That was the light that led me up from the bottom. I knew immediately where I was now. I was back above ground, in the Mississippi River.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± I choked out as I swam to the riverbank, still slightly laughing.

    I swam to the edge, clawing my way up through the muck and grime on the side of the river. I was just south of the city, not very far from downtown. If I was human, getting out of all the grime and brush with sopping wet clothing would have been a real bitch. Luckily, I had stamina for days, but even still; I kept tripping over stuff on the side of the river. At one point I actually slipped and fell into the mud on my back. It took me a minute to get out.

    If only the people so afraid of me could see me now.

    I didn¡¯t know what had just happened. I couldn¡¯t explain it. How had I gone from deep underground to being spit out in the river far above? How did that subterranean river flow up to the surface? Where was it fed from?

    The caves beneath the city were beyond me. It was like things were keeping me from finding anyone or anything down there. It seemed like it didn¡¯t matter what I did, I couldn¡¯t find my way into the pits. I was being misdirected and turned around to keep me away.

    I gave up for the night, deciding to head home. The city around me had come alive since I dropped beneath the city surface, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights and neon signs. The nightlife stretched across the streets like a living thing, sprawling through every corner as the younger crowds moved from bar to restaurant, and back to bar again. There was a particular scent on nights like these; part sweat, part food from late-night vendors, mixed with the faint musk of the river nearby. It was the smell of the city pulsing with energy.

    A low hum settled over everything, a constant undercurrent that filled the streets. It wasn¡¯t just noise; it was a combination of voices, laughter, music spilling out from open doors, and the subtle rhythm of footsteps on concrete. It was life, vibrating through the city like an unbroken chain of sound. Everyone seemed to be searching for something, drifting through the night with quiet desperation. Searching maybe¡­ for connection, excitement, or a way to forget. It was always the same; they wandered the streets, chasing a feeling, hoping to find it in the next drink, the next conversation.

    But I wasn¡¯t searching anymore. The restless energy of the night no longer had a pull on me. I had already found what I was looking for. And they¡­ they were all at the lake, waiting.

    Then, for the first time in a little while, I had shameful thoughts about what I was doing. I started to think of Vicky¡­ my wife.

    Thinking of her hurt me, especially when I knew my thoughts and actions regarding Autumn. I abandoned Vicky, and my entire family, after I was transformed. The way I was acting and staying near the Chasse family felt increasingly wrong the more I thought about what I had left behind. I had always felt this way a little, but more so lately after I returned to Chasses after they accepted me as a monster. Who¡¯s to say my own family wouldn¡¯t do the same¡­ What was I doing?

    I know what I said to Carter earlier that very same day, but I couldn¡¯t help but think¡­ was it all just an excuse?

    I started to wonder if Vicky, Seth, and my family knew I was alive and living with another family¡­ what would they feel? What would my parents think? I started feeling a knot in my throat. That¡¯s when I pictured Caydee dressed as silly as Delilah was in her floaties. I pictured sitting at the beach like when I was a kid. Right on the beachfront in one of the rental houses we¡¯d always get for our whole family. I pictured looking out to the ocean in the sand as I watched Caydee and Delilah playing in the shallow water. I imagined both families together in a massive gathering, linked together by an inhuman creature that lurked between them.

    A thought crossed my mind for the first time in my whole life, and it scared the shit out of me. I tried to push it away as soon as I felt it. I tried to convince myself that it was just a passing thought, but I knew deep down that it was already eating away at my resolve to stay true to my decisions. I thought¡­ what if I revealed myself to my parents¡­ Seth, and Vicky. What if I could meet little Caydee in person and hear her, one day, speak to me¡­

    Tears snuck from the corners of my eyes as the knot in my throat tightened even harder. The thoughts came out of nowhere and shook my mind in a way I hadn¡¯t prepared for.

    But what about my most recent kill? What would they think, any of them? My family? The Chasses? If anyone knew that I had lost control, and the thing inside of me just up and decided, ¡°time to die¡± for some random stranger¡­ What would they think?

    Jon, the original Jon, told me that I would live for a long time. He told me I would have hard, dark times. He told Eleanor to stay close to me, to help me in my darkest hours. He had many people he cared about through the years, it seemed, so why couldn¡¯t I? What would I gain if I stayed away from my family for the rest of their lives¡­ just to let them die? Then I¡¯d never have that time again¡­ The thoughts were getting deeper, and hard to process as my mind swam through the chaos of possibilities. I had time to think about them.

    I wasn¡¯t sorry for what I felt for the Chasses or the whole extended family. They were like an addition to my original family. I wasn¡¯t sorry for what I felt with Autumn. The thought of abandoning Vicky, before letting her know what I had become, was what saddened me. I never gave Vicky a chance to see what happened. I never gave any of my real family a chance. I was terrified¡­ of myself. In the beginning, it was impossible, but now the more I knew of my situation, and the acceptance of my true self the more I thought that, if this was possible with the Chasses, why not my real family?

    Of course, there were questions. What if it took over again? Why did it do that? Could I trust it around them, around my family? What would they think when they saw the real me? Would it all be worse than I thought? There were a lot of reasons to hide, to stay away.

    I looked up at the smoggy sky as soon as I saw a flash of lightning. A storm had begun brewing again after I fell beneath the world for a while. When I came back up, it was a distance away, but it seemed like it was raging. I paced through the city towards my hidden home, watching the darkened clouds on the horizon twist and disperse into one another as the bolts of electricity arced and jumped between them.

    I needed to call it a night. Once morning hit, I would reassess my hunt for Peter. After all the searching with no success, I was coming to a quick conclusion that I wouldn¡¯t find anything without someone else¡¯s help. I might have to talk with the Wicklows. Maybe together we could find him.

    I walked slowly towards my home, and in about an hour, I was only another few minutes from my house. I was stepping through an open field that was only fifty yards or so from a highway. The field led into the woods that merged into the greater forest area. Those trees hid my home from the rest of the world. I stepped through the soft, uneven terrain as I made my way beneath the storm.

    I could feel the thunder shaking my bones every few minutes. The lightning would arc across the city, looking like it had originated from somewhere across the world and was merely passing through St. Louis, on its way to the great beyond.

    The storm seemed powerful, and it reminded me of what Annabelle had said. She thought that it could be something¡­ or it could be nothing. However, this storm seemed to be only rising in power and intensity with every step I took.

    I thought I could smell the rain coming as the winds picked up. I was almost to the trees, and I figured there would be an excellent place to hide from the rain so I wouldn¡¯t get drenched. I picked up my stride as I tried to make it to the cover of the forest.

    Then, I saw a flash of light so bright that it reminded me of one of Carter¡¯s silver bombs that deafened and blinded me like they had before. The concussive blast was so powerful that it shook my brain inside my skull. The light was blindingly bright, not just a flash, but a heat that touched the surface of my skin. I stumbled to the ground just out of reach of the woods. I didn¡¯t get struck, but it hit just behind me. It was so close.

    That¡¯s when it happened. I felt another flash. Except, this one hit me where I stood. The lightning strike shot out of the sky from directly above and plowed me into the dirt with unforgiving force. I felt my body turn to jelly as the raw energy collided with me. The thunderous crash that accompanied the painful arc shook every cell in my body. It felt a way that almost reminded me of the being from the fields, but nowhere near as powerful. Just a force of nature.

    The physical pain was so great that my body went numb. This wasn¡¯t like when I did that intentionally to block out my emotions. This was like my body¡¯s defense mechanism to protect my mind from the actual amount of pain. It was all coursing through every fiber and cell of my being. I flopped and writhed in painful agony at the edge of the woods without anyone near me to help. The tree line was distant enough from the highway that even if a passerby had seen the lightning strike, they wouldn¡¯t have bothered to stop. Nobody would stop and get out of their vehicles on a road where seventy miles an hour is the speed limit.

    My inside burned like nothing I had ever felt before. Every time my body convulsed and shook from the discharging power, I felt like every cell in my flesh had a little knife attached to it. They were all stabbing me from within my tissues. This wasn¡¯t like the constant burning of the unquenchable hellfire; this was power so intensified that the English language failed to produce a word strong enough to describe. I was in hell. The pain never stopped, nor did it slow. The ever-present torture burned my body from within as the storm raged directly overhead.

    Then, slowly but surely the pain disappeared. I sucked in a breath as quickly as the agony was gone. I could feel my body stitching itself back together, already healing the damage. I panted heavily in the coarse grass of the untouched field by the highway. I waited patiently as the pain regressed. I breathed slowly, almost starting to laugh.

    ¡°Damn,¡± I spat out in a full breath. I couldn¡¯t believe what I had felt. That wasn¡¯t like anything I had ever experienced in this life. The pain I was being put through wasn¡¯t like any other feeling I had ever experienced before since becoming the monster. Maybe if I got struck by lightning more often, I might be able to feel something. Could it kill me?

    I felt a force behind me, something familiar¡­ and powerful. I couldn¡¯t put it together in my head before I could turn around. Yet, when I did turn around, I saw two figures standing relatively close to me. They were too far away for my eyes to recognize after the lightning strike. My brain was still fuzzy from being cooked by the energy. But I knew I saw them¡­ both of them. I eyed them for a moment before my eyes fully healed themselves, trying to focus. I saw one of them, a shorter framed silhouette, raise a hand in my direction.

    A voice from where they stood yelled out with a scream, straining to put in all the effort they could muster into something. That¡¯s when another lightning strike appeared above me, rocketing down to the earth at my feet in a flash. Everything I had felt before¡­ intensified. It was ten times as bad as the first. The two people standing near me were summoning the power from the sky somehow. They were attacking me with the passing storm¡­ calling out to it somehow.

    I was lying in the dirt after the quick surge of energy that cut through me like a razor. I was numb to the world after the second blast. The only reason I was still conscious and aware was because of the power of the monster. It anchored my physical form to the world, which kept my soul from passing into the next life. The beast would not let me go; he wouldn¡¯t allow me to die.

    As I lay burning, I felt enveloped by some kind of pressure. It opened and swallowed me whole¡­ taking me. The ground on my back was the only thing I had as a reference as my senses had been burned away, but the pressure that surrounded me took me from the ground, moving me somewhere else.

    I couldn¡¯t feel the earth at my back anymore. In an instant, all I felt was a pit in my stomach, like a feeling I remembered as a kid riding a rollercoaster. I was falling¡­ fast. My senses healed and returned to me quickly, only to realize that I was plummeting from the sky, back to the city below. I was rushing through the clouds of the night sky like a meteor crashing into the earth. This was going to hurt.

 Chapter 47 - Powerful

    This was real pain. Pain that I hadn¡¯t felt in a lifetime. This was the kind of power I had been searching for in the early years of this life. This was what I needed to find in those dark days when I wandered aimlessly for a way to end my suffering.

    I hit the ground so hard that my head twisted around sharply, cracking bones within my neck. I breathed rapidly through the pain as my body continued to ragdoll out of the plummeting momentum. I tried to keep my head locked into position as I bounced and bored through the open expanse of farmland where I had come crashing down out of the sky. I must have been released from that strange power at an angle because I moved away from the city in a falling rush. I met the earth again in a more rural area, east of the Mississippi River. Every smash and tumble that my body took snapped bones and ripped flesh from my body. By the time I finally stopped moving¡­ I just wanted to die. So much of me was missing.

    As the motion ended, and my body was finally at rest, I tried to sit up a little from my corpselike position. Once I lifted my head from the dirt, I took a deep breath through wavering lungs. I tried to push myself off the ground.

    ¡°Sh¡­ shit,¡± my bones felt like they were made of glass. Everything hurt.

    I could already feel the monster within healing and repairing my damaged body as I lay in agony, but even that was painful. My eyes blackened fully, and my teeth extended to longer proportions. It was taking over to mend the damage that had been done.

    Then, off in the distance, I could see the city. St. Louis was barely a blip on the edge of the horizon. I had been standing within the city limits, and now I was so far from the place I called home that all I could make out were the tallest buildings.

    ¡°Fuck you, asshole!¡± I spat towards the distant city. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± I wondered aloud through my pain, stumbling around as I continued to heal.

    The remnants of my clothes were not only shredded from my tumble but charred from the blast. The lightning had scorched almost every inch of my clothing. Even my poor little phone was destroyed by the plummeting drop from the sky. I only found pieces crunched up in what was left of a pocket. It was the biggest inconvenience, seeing as I could not contact the Chasses. I couldn¡¯t remember their numbers from memory.

    I stood still in the vacant wilderness as I waited for the next attack. My body was almost fully restored, and I was ready to catch the fuckers and put them in a permanent dirt nap. I waited¡­ but all I heard was silence.

    I started bounding through the unfamiliar area in the direction I knew I needed to go. A little wobbly at first, but I was on the move. I was still heading straight home, and nowhere else. I kept a look over my shoulder the whole way back. What if that person, or people, came back to fight me again? Would they keep up the attack? Who were they, and what the hell did they want?

    I wished they would¡­ I wanted another crack at them. I wanted to go back and beat them to death. See how long they could keep my at bay before I eventually overwhelmed them. But¡­ I had no way to track them. My senses were wiped clean from the surge of power that hit me, plus I didn¡¯t even know if I could find the place I was before they sent me on that little trip.

    After a few dark hours, I sat back in the comfort and seclusion of the safe house. When I was alone, I let the knots and stress fall out of my shoulders. I felt like I had just been hit by a Mack truck. I was confused about what had happened and unsure what the hell I was supposed to do about it. I was jumped by some kind of supernatural assholes and then teleported into the sky to splatter like a bug on a windshield. How¡¯d they do that? I felt like I just got bullied, then I ran home. I shook my head at myself.

    ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡± I said out loud.

    Then, a knock vibrated the door rapidly almost as soon as I had sat down. It annoyed me. Then I wondered if it was them. Maybe the silhouettes that attacked me had followed me home¡­

    When I opened the door, I had my hand clenched and ready to pull them inside to a grizzly end. Yet, I was met by a familiar dark-haired vampire.

    ¡°Sam?¡± Martin spoke as he saw my face through the darkness.

    ¡°Martin,¡± I was surprised. I unclenched my fist and waved him in, ¡°Sorry, I thought you were someone else.¡±

    ¡°And who is that?¡± Alex asked as she appeared out of thin air behind the elder vampire.

    She had on normal-people clothes. Her jeans and t-shirt were a change of pace from her usual attire. Her blood-red hair was tied back into a single ponytail. She didn¡¯t look like she was trying to lure any young vampires in for sustenance.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I asked, almost annoyed that she was standing at my door, asking questions of me.

    Martin smirked, ¡°You forget, Sam, this is still my house. I am merely lending it to you.¡± He could barely contain the smile. ¡°We came to talk.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Who were you expecting?¡± Martin asked. ¡°I know the Chasses are out of town. Who else would be coming to visit you?¡±

    I shook my head at the thought, ¡°It¡¯s confusing¡­ hard to explain. I just had a run-in with someone¡­ something, earlier.¡±

    ¡°Was it Peter?¡± Martin asked hurriedly.

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t get a chance to ask,¡± I said sarcastically.

    ¡°You let them live this time?¡± Alex asked in surprise, as she knew my usual interactions led to death.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t let them do anything,¡± I offered. I didn¡¯t want them to think I was passing out get-out-of-jail-free cards to everyone now that I was back in with the Chasses.

    ¡°What are those markings on you,¡± Martin asked as he reached out to my neck.

    I pulled away from his grasp, slightly readjusting my new shirt to cover the markings. Light traces of electrical burns within my skin remained, although they were slowly fading away.

    ¡°Just one of the places I got hit.¡±

    ¡°What leaves a mark like that?¡± Alex asked as she too investigated the branching electrical burn that was still present.

    ¡°Lightning,¡± Martin said.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°The storm earlier¡­ there were these two people. I couldn¡¯t see them, sense them, nothing. They attacked me somehow, used the storm¡­¡± it sounded crazier the more I tried to explain it. ¡°They moved me somehow too. Dropped me from the sky, outside the city. I landed in some field far out of town,¡± I said. ¡°They were definitely trying to kill me,¡± I actually laughed to myself at the memory of finally being treated like my victims. This was what it felt like to get manhandled. But I knew I¡¯d get the last laugh when we met again.

    They both looked like they had questions and honestly, so did I. I wondered if maybe now that I wasn''t hiding my secret from the whole world, perhaps I could use my two new friends for answers.

    ¡°How about you both have a seat, and I¡¯ll tell you all about it,¡± I offered to the two blood drinkers.

    Alex and Martin entered deeper into my¡­ Martin¡¯s house and sat down to hear a tall tale they probably wouldn¡¯t believe.

    <hr>

    The sun was peeking over the horizon as our talking came to a close. I had told them about everything I experienced in those fast and brutal moments against the silhouettes. We also spoke about the brewery, and my time with the Wicklow family, as well as the elusive Peter Grimwood.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t think he could have survived what you did to him,¡± Alex spoke openly, and with slight abrasiveness. ¡°I¡¯ve seen vampires die from way less damage¡­ but nothing could survive what happened to him. His body would have needed too much repair. If he was alive, he¡¯d be in too much pain and agony to be a threat to us,¡± she thought out loud. Her voice held a tone that almost sounded like an adult talking to a kid like she thought I needed to be spoon-fed.

    ¡°I hope,¡± I agreed, trying to ignore her attitude.

    ¡°Yes, usually,¡± Martin debated. ¡°However, just look at Sam here. We don¡¯t know what Peter might be able to do. Sam breaks all kinds of rules that apply to virtually any other type of monster. If Peter survived, then I fear we haven¡¯t even scratched the surface of what that could mean, or what he is capable of¡­¡± Martin stayed open-minded and aware of any possibility. ¡°He very well could be one of the two that attacked you earlier.¡±

    ¡°So, you believe me?¡± I asked. ¡°How could he do that?¡±

    ¡°It is very rare for someone to be able to do what you are describing. However, that being said, it is not impossible. If Peter can come back from the dead, as the Wicklows suspect, then he could do all manner of things we are not yet privy to.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just hope he¡¯s dead,¡± I said to them both. ¡°Maybe whoever gave me this is someone else.¡± I reached up to the strange markings.

    Alex¡¯s eyes focused on my neck, stepping over to me in a blur. Her eyes were held in a questioning manner, ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡± She quickly realized her closeness and backed away.

    She was right. My monster had finally healed the very last of the damage done by the mystery duo. It had fully restored me to a completely uninjured creature. It was basically like it had never happened. But it took too long. It had never taken that long to heal before. Was it the magnitude of power they wielded? Or something else?

    ¡°Look, Sam, I don¡¯t know how to explain what happened, but whatever it was is over. I think that whoever it was hasn¡¯t been spotted before, so they can¡¯t be as big of a threat as you¡¯re thinking, at least to the family. If someone truly has that much power, they would be able to do anything they wanted, yet they haven¡¯t. They haven¡¯t shown themselves to anyone but you. That has to mean that they came specifically for you. If they think you¡¯re dead, then they might go back wherever they came from.¡±

    ¡°The pits?¡± I wondered out loud. ¡°Another hunting party like before, with Charles and the others.¡±

    Martin¡¯s eyebrows raised, ¡°Possibly¡­¡± he trailed off in thought.

    ¡°And since you can¡¯t be killed,¡± Alex added, ¡°it doesn¡¯t seem like much of a problem to anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Yet,¡± Martin added. He recognized the problems that I saw, ¡°why were there only two of them? Things usually happen in threes.¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m unsure as well,¡± Martin said. ¡°Maybe I can reach out to Charles. See if he¡¯s heard anything. Although, if he had heard of another hunting party coming back here for you, he would already be here to warn us. He risked quite a bit by lying to the Elders down in the pits for us. If they suspect you are still alive¡­ I fear what that could mean for Charles.¡±

    I had so much I wanted to know about that place, but no way to get answers. At least, not right now. I couldn¡¯t have chased them down. I didn¡¯t sense them before I was struck down¡­ twice. Even if I did, I think the lightning singed my senses so badly that I wouldn¡¯t have been able to recall them. It was a full reset.

    ¡°Whoever they were, if they realize that all that power wasn¡¯t enough to kill you¡­ I think they won''t be coming back,¡± Martin thought aloud. ¡°Not until they formulate a new strategy.¡±

    ¡°We can keep a lookout for Peter, just in case. But I still think he¡¯s dead¡­ probably unrelated to whatever beat your ass,¡± Alex said.

    ¡°Why are you helping me?¡± I asked, curious about her changed attitude.

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to agree with Martin,¡± Alex informed. ¡°I think you care a lot about these people. If you¡¯re helping keep them safe, then it¡¯s a lot easier for Martin to have a life as well. He thinks about them just as much as you. At least that¡¯s how it seems for now.¡± She smirked at the last amendment to her words. ¡°Plus, we¡¯ve got to keep you around. Once we find out what you are, I might need to be the one to take you out,¡± Alex said jokingly, but a secret truth hid in her words. I could see it in her eyes.

    We mulled over possibilities about the two shadows that came for me. As we spoke, I had an idea.

    ¡°Between the three of us, we are pretty heavily equipped to form our own hunting party. Just like the one that came for me,¡± I said as I was still bringing the whole idea together.

    ¡°What is it you have in mind?¡± Martin looked interested.

    ¡°We¡¯re hunting for Peter, and we also know that two others, who are extremely powerful, are out there. What if we went on the hunt? Who could stop us if we came looking?¡±

    Alex shook her head confidently, ¡°No one.¡±

    Martin seemed a little apprehensive at first. ¡°I don¡¯t know. A lot could happen. We could gain too much attention from the Elders below, just as you did before, Sam.¡± Martin thought hard between words. ¡°If we did go out, we would have to be very discreet.¡±

    ¡°I can be discreet,¡± Alex assured.

    ¡°Sam? Can you control that thing now?¡± Martin asked, remembering the internal struggle he witnessed on the roof of the Lemp Brewery.

    I flinched slightly, thinking about the man who fell to the monster as it walked in my skin. I pushed it down.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got things under control now.¡± Lie. ¡°Plus, if we find anyone with information, I¡¯ll let you do the talking. You two know things I don¡¯t, you have you own ways of tracking people, and I have mine. If we worked together, we could do a lot more than I can on my own.¡±

    Alex and Martin were both nodding their heads as they continued to plan things out in their minds.

    ¡°I know of a few vampire dens that I¡¯ve been stalking for a while now. They¡¯re pretty spread out around the city. They could be knowledgeable about Peter since he had vampires with him at the brewery.¡± Alex had good ideas and seemed to be on board with the plan.

    ¡°Yes, that could be beneficial. Dens are a virtual cornucopia of information. The more vampires, the more information. I know of someone we can visit as well, once the sun goes down,¡± Martin said as he glanced over to the light creeping through the curtains.

    ¡°Damn,¡± I said, not even realizing their daytime constraints. Talk about a fucking inconvenience. I didn¡¯t have to obey such rules as they did.

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re stuck here with you for the day,¡± Alex mocked me. She knew I liked to be by myself just from watching me inside Martin¡¯s bar all those months.

    ¡°Yes, but if we are planning on heading out at sunset, we¡¯ll need a few things. So that means we¡¯ll need you to run a few errands for us,¡± Martin said.

    ¡°Great¡­¡± I sighed. Now I was their errand boy. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Clothes,¡± Alex replied. ¡°If we¡¯re looking for information then I¡¯ll need something that will help loosen lips. Plus, if we end up in a fight, I want to have something less¡­ constricting.¡± She looked down at her jeans as she spoke. ¡°You¡¯ll have to go to my place and get me something to wear.¡± She smirked as she put me in her labor.

    ¡°Weapons too,¡± Martin added. ¡°I have a few at the bar we can use for tonight.¡±

    ¡°You want to bring weapons?¡± I asked, perplexed.

    ¡°Yes. We too will need advantages if we end up overwhelmed. Alex and I are stronger than most things we¡¯ll run into, but we can get overwhelmed if we are too outnumbered. Weapons will help reduce that risk.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I responded. I guess I never really had to think about those things. The silver blade I carried at my waist was not a necessity, although I carried it most of the time. The other blade, however, the one that sat just outside of this dimension¡­ was still a mystery. ¡°So where am I going?¡±

 Chapter 48 - Elderly Friends

    My day had a strange weight to it, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized why. I¡¯d left the safe house at dawn to run errands for my two new¡­ friends, I guess. But even as I called them that in my head, something felt off. I never truly saw them as just friends, did I? They were always ¡°supernatural creatures¡± in my mind, something different from me, even though we were more alike than I wanted to admit.

    I think¡­ deep down, I kept that distance because I didn¡¯t want to face the truth of what I was. I didn¡¯t actively seek out others like me, not because I couldn''t, but because I didn¡¯t want to. I didn¡¯t want to be reminded of the part of myself I kept rejecting. I was clinging to the illusion of normalcy, desperately trying to feel human, to hold onto that fragile sense of identity. So, I stayed close to the Chasses, humans who still treated me as one of their own.

    It¡¯s hypocritical, really. Here I am, the monster of monsters, yet I push away anything that would force me to confront that truth. I didn¡¯t even realize it at the time, but I was always rejecting the supernatural world to protect myself. Thinking about killing them more than getting to know any of them. They were all monsters to me¡­ at first glance. It wasn¡¯t just about staying alone; it was about clinging to what little humanity I had left, pretending I wasn¡¯t as far gone as I knew I was. But after the alley¡­ with the stranger¡­ I was admitting things to myself now.

    I grabbed a duffle bag from the safe house, and I headed out. I would pack only what would fit inside, nothing more, nothing less. The plan was simple: visit the two vampire hideaways, take what I needed, and be back before sunset. My first stop was Martin¡¯s bar, a place that always seemed to be drenched in shadow, even when the neon signs outside flickered to life. Using the keys Martin had given me, I slipped through the locked front door into the darkened space, where the familiar smell of stale beer and damp wood hung in the air. The silence was thick, save for the soft creak of the floorboards beneath my boots.

    I weaved through the maze of empty tables, their chairs flipped upside down for the day, giving me ample room to maneuver in and out of the space. Behind the bar, I navigated past shelves of dusty liquor bottles, the faint clink of glass following me as I made my way toward the back. Through the kitchen, the scent of old grease and burnt food lingered, but I barely noticed, focused on my destination. I reached the thick metal door that separated Martin¡¯s work den from the rest of his establishment. It was a heavy slab, almost industrial, like something meant to keep the world at bay.

    Once inside, I found his stash. It wasn¡¯t elaborate or carefully curated like the Chasses¡¯ armories; Martin wasn¡¯t interested in symbols or intricate designs. Spread out before me was an assortment of daggers and short swords, each one different from the last. They were forged in varying shapes, some with straight edges, others curved, but they shared one trait: they were pure steel. Not a trace of silver or any warding like the Chasse weaponry. These weapons were crude, simplistic tools designed for one purpose¡­ brutal efficiency. They weren¡¯t meant to weaken or poison. They were meant to cleave flesh.

    I ran my fingers along the hilt of a dagger, feeling the cold metal against my skin. The simplicity of the weapons reflected Martin himself, practical, direct, and no frills. I grabbed a few that felt right in my hand, choosing options that gave me a sense of balance, something the others could trust in the heat of a fight. Nothing too big or long that I couldn¡¯t fit in the duffle. Along with them, I took a change of clothes for the old vampire, stuffing the fabric into the bag before zipping it shut.

    As I prepared to leave, I couldn¡¯t help but glance back at the stash, wondering what kind of battles these blades had already seen. What kind of monsters, human or otherwise, they had ended. From the looks of their weathered surfaces, they¡¯d been through carnage; battles¡­ from a time before the Chasse family.

    I was in and out of Martin¡¯s fairly quickly, pacing the city sidewalks with a strap of the hefty duffle tossed over a shoulder. I strolled down the daylight streets with the gear in hand, acting like a normal guy doing normal shit. I started making my way to the part of town where I knew Alex lived. Unlike Martin¡¯s, I had never been to the next place before.

    Alex¡¯s place was about a ten-minute walk from Martin¡¯s, but it felt longer as I wound my way through the bustling downtown streets. The closer I got, the more the noise picked up; cars weaving through traffic, engines revving, the distant hum of conversations from pedestrians. The area was crowded, not just with people, but with a constant flow of movement, a living pulse that never seemed to slow down. I started to worry. What if it decided now was the time to take over? There were too many people.

    The building itself was massive, one of those older apartment complexes with brick facades and balconies overlooking the busy street. It had an almost imposing presence, looming over the chaos below. It looked solid.

    There were no keys for this stop, unlike Martin¡¯s. Alex had given me clear directions instead, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit uneasy. The instructions were precise, but there was something about sneaking into an unlocked apartment in broad daylight that left me on edge. As I made my way around to the back of the building, the city noise started to fade, replaced by the quieter sounds of distant traffic and the occasional thrum of a passing car.

    I spotted the window Alex had mentioned, the one lined with aluminum foil from the inside, reflecting the bright glow of the sky. It gave the place a makeshift, half-abandoned feel, like someone trying too hard to block out the world. The balcony door to the left of that window was supposed to be unlocked, just as Alex had said. I glanced up at the structure, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and apprehension. I didn¡¯t know much about her, and part of me wondered what I¡¯d find inside. She¡¯d made it clear not to "fuck with anything else" while I was there. It felt more personal than practical like she didn¡¯t want me to see something I wasn¡¯t supposed to.

    I stepped beneath the balcony, mentally running through her instructions again, feeling the tension build as I prepared to climb. All I had to do was get what she wanted and get out. Simple, in theory. But the unease lingered, gnawing at me with each step I took. I looked around, ensuring that I wouldn¡¯t be seen.

    This would''ve been easier under the cover of night, but broad daylight added a whole new level of risk. Every second out in the open felt like too many, and I could feel the weight of the city''s eyes on me, even if no one was watching. Or at least, I hoped they weren¡¯t. If anyone saw me scaling the side of a building in broad daylight, it¡¯d turn into a mess I didn¡¯t need. The thought gnawed at me, but there was no time to dwell on it.

    I moved fast, rushing up the side of the building toward the balcony, heart pounding in my ears. The street below felt like a stage, the kind where one wrong move means the spotlight snaps onto you. My muscles tensed as I pulled myself up, praying that no wandering eyes had caught me. If they had, I¡¯d have a bigger problem than what waited inside.

    I landed on the balcony with a soft thud, and without a second thought, slipped through the unlocked door, disappearing into the shadows. Inside, the air felt thick and stagnant, a sharp contrast to the noise outside. The darkness swallowed me whole. Every window was covered, blotted out with layers of material¡ªthick blankets, aluminum foil, anything to block the sunlight.

    It wasn¡¯t just dark. It was suffocating, a black void that felt designed to trap anyone who stepped in. This wasn¡¯t just an apartment; it was a hiding place, meticulously crafted for one purpose. Alex had turned this space into a fortress, sealing herself from the light. It was more than just a place to live; it was a tomb, cold and lifeless.

    I could feel it, that unnatural stillness that comes with places like this, a place built to harbor something far from human. It would have been perfect for me.

    The whole place was surprisingly clean. I¡¯m not sure what I expected honestly, but seeing the place was a surprise. I found her dresser in the bedroom, exactly where she said it¡¯d be. The dresser was another shock. When I opened the drawers, I saw an overflowing wealth of all sorts of lingerie, undergarments, and similar clothing to the type she¡¯d always worn at the bar. Every night I had spent wasting away there, she was behind the bar wearing the skimpiest clothing in the room. This was all a part of her pull. The way she lured in her prey¡­ murderous vampires. I knew what I¡¯d see since she requested something with a little more ¡°breathing room,¡± but it was slightly awkward going through her underwear drawer. Especially since I would have to bring all this back and hand it to her like a good little errand boy. She¡¯d know everything I had to sort through. Nevertheless, I scooped up a bunch of random stuff and shoved it in the duffle bag.

    As I stuffed what looked like a red bra into the duffle, I saw a very small and older-looking picture frame sitting on a bedside table. It sat directly beneath the lamp, facing the bed where I knew she had to lay. Her impression was faintly visible on only one side of the thin, sheet-covered mattress. I stepped over to the bed, sitting in her place, and examined the photo even closer. The picture was of a couple, taken a very long time ago. Maybe even before I was born. The girl was obviously Alex, but from when she was still human. Her hair was much less potent, a more natural red. She was smiling as her hands wrapped around the arm of a man who looked close in age to her. The time was different, the clothes were styles from an age past. If I had to guess it was probably in the late 1970¡¯s. She still had all the tattoos that she had currently, but her clothes were more modest than the look she presented to the world now. Something in her eyes was different too. Not just the obvious vampiric red I had seen¡­ but an innocence. She wasn¡¯t tainted by the darkness of the world yet. Whatever happened to her, it hadn¡¯t happened yet in this picture. This must have been one of the happiest memories that she still had.

    I stepped back from the bed, taking in the scene. It was clear now: the way she had arranged her bed, the picture beside it, and the fact that she never moved from this spot. Every day, as the sun forced her from the living world, she lay here, staring at that picture until sleep took her.

    I started feeling something different in my mind towards her. Alex wasn¡¯t the same person I thought she was anymore. She wasn¡¯t the same person she presented herself as, not at her core. One thing I realized about her was that she seemed lonely. She missed whomever this man was beside her in the photograph. I know what Martin had told me about her, but I wondered¡­ what exactly had happened to her. How long had she been living like this?

    On my way out I got the impulse to have a look around. I wouldn¡¯t touch anything, but I wanted to see what kind of things I could find out about Alex. She was one of the most unique creatures I had met in this life. She was a mutation of the normal vampire breed because of her cannibalistic nature, which made her very powerful. I wondered what kind of things I¡¯d find in her lair.

    I peeked into the kitchen¡­ nothing. The refrigerator was empty, and the cabinets were bare, but I did find something on a counter that caught my eye. She had a bag of sour candy sitting by itself in the kitchen. It was already opened, and half eaten, making me realize that she had a similar taste to the extremes as I did. It was funny how something so small could make me think we had something in common, even if it was only slight.

    I didn¡¯t want to invade her privacy anymore, so I began my exit. I left the same way I came, dropping lightly to the pavement below the balcony as soon as I saw the coast was clear. I had everything Martin and Alex sent me for, and it was only around noon at that point, so I decided to take a very scenic route.

    Even though we were all friendly now, I wanted to be alone for a while longer. Seeing Alex¡¯s apartment, and her photograph, made me think of my own family¡­ of Vicky. It brought up emotions of the loss in my life and I wanted to be alone for a while longer. I took my time returning since we had to wait for sunset anyway. But eventually, I came back to the safehouse.

    ¡°Well, that took you longer than I thought,¡± Martin said as soon as I walked through the blazing sun that crept past the door frame. ¡°I began to think you ran into those two shadows again.¡±

    The sun still hung in the late afternoon sky, blocking the path for my two friends to leave the safe house. I shut the front door, cutting the light off from the entrance so the vampires could move freely without burning to cinders. Yet, when I looked around, I only saw Martin. Alex was out of sight somewhere.

    ¡°Sorry, I figured I¡¯d think for a while. Clear my head after,¡± I said.

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    Martin nodded with understanding.

    ¡°From the clinking around in the bag I take it you found everything,¡± Martin eyed the packed duffle.

    ¡°Yeah, I got options for you guys,¡± I said, unzipping the bag. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure what weapon would suit you best, so I grabbed a couple different ones to choose from.¡± Lingerie and cutoff shorts spilled out of the bag as I searched for the weapons beneath.

    ¡°Please,¡± Martin raised his hand. ¡°Let¡¯s give Alex some privacy. I¡¯d hate for her to think I sorted through her personal items.¡± Martin seemed worried about it in a strange way. ¡°We can let Alex grab her things first.¡±

    ¡°Trust me, I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll care. She sent me straight there for these. I saw a lot of the stuff she¡¯s got tucked away in her dresser. I don¡¯t think she cares,¡± I offered.

    ¡°Still, I would not want to make her uncomfortable,¡± Martin insisted. ¡°She is like a daughter to me, and I wouldn¡¯t want to invade her personal space.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said a little confused. I hadn¡¯t thought of their relationship as a father-daughter dynamic. I thought it was more¡­ intimate, maybe.

    I pushed her underwear back down on top of the metal blades and zipped it closed.

    ¡°Where is she anyways?¡± I looked around throughout the blackened spaces of the house.

    Martin smiled, ¡°Alex is a creature of habit. She sleeps a lot during the daytime hours, so she¡¯s resting in the bedroom.¡±

    I found myself quickly perturbed and it was only fueled by the monster, ¡°She¡¯s asleep in my¡­¡±

    Martin quickly cut me off, ¡°My bed¡­ I think is what you mean.¡± He was quick to remind me, again, that this was his house. I was just a guest. ¡°She too can stay here if she wishes.¡±

    I nodded, realizing I should be more grateful that he was letting me stay here.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°Sometimes I¡­¡± I tried being honest. ¡°Sometimes the thing in me has a lot of push. It gets away from me sometimes.¡± I picked up the duffle bag, ¡°I¡¯ll set this in there for when she wakes up.¡±

    I silently walked back through the little passageway to the open bedroom. Sure enough, there was Alex, sleeping on her left side in the bed I had grown accustomed to passing the time in. As I set the bag on the side of the bed, I saw her eyes were completely shut and she wasn¡¯t even breathing. She almost looked like she was dead. There was no discernable motion that I could see. The way her body was positioned, facing the small bedside table by her head, reminded me of her bedroom. She looked like she fell asleep while staring at the empty table, exactly how she did in the privacy of her own home. Even without the picture standing upright by her face, I knew she still imagined it there. I backed away quietly so I wouldn¡¯t wake her.

    Once I was in sight, Martin asked, ¡°You say ¡°the thing inside,¡± do you really think of it as a separate person?¡±

    I nodded informatively, ¡°Yeah, most of the time anyway.¡±

    ¡°Do you ever think that is just a copout?¡± Martin asked unapologetically.

    ¡°A copout?¡± I asked, trying to maintain the annoyance and keep it from leading to anger. I took a seat in the darkness, on the couch opposite him. Waiting to hear more.

    ¡°When I was young and newly turned, I too thought of myself, in my darkest moments, as being separate from the real me. However, it took me many years to see that I am all that is here.¡± Martin pointed into his chest as he spoke.

    ¡°You think you know something about me?¡± I asked bluntly, not masking my feelings about his words.

    ¡°I think I know something about myself. I think I¡¯ve seen something similar in many others before you.¡± Martin never slowed his momentum. He was being brutally honest. ¡°We all feel the push inside of us, once turned. It¡¯s not natural for a human to feel these things, so it is not something anyone is accustomed to initially. But the ¡°beast¡± inside us all¡­ is our own. It is us, nothing more. The darkest parts of our personalities are brought out by the violent natures of our new tendencies, no matter what we are. You¡¯re no different, Sam.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t know what I am. Not even I do. How can you know anything for sure?¡± I doubted his words.

    ¡°You¡¯ve proven time and again that you can control it when you have the right motivation. In time, I think you¡¯ll learn just how in control you can be¡­ once you accept it,¡± Martin said, looking into me like he saw great potential. ¡°Thinking your actions are driven by anything other than your own mind, giving into fulfilling your needs, is a folly. Passing the blame on someone, or something that doesn¡¯t exist will never make things better. You must accept that there is no one else. It is only you under there. That¡¯s when real control is possible.¡±

    Martin stopped speaking, leaning back to recline against the cushions of the couch.

    I thought about the possibility. What would that mean, if he was right? Did I have the control to possibly return to my family? Did I have it the whole time, and I was just too weak to see it? How could anyone find the strength to resist in the beginning if it was just them, and no creature pulling the strings?

    But if that was true¡­ then what happened that night with the old man? Why did I feel utterly locked out of my body as it moved to kill in cold blood?

    His words started reminding me of Alex and how she¡¯d never tasted human blood. I wondered about her early life and the picture on her nightstand. Who was that guy standing there with her? Was he family? What happened to him? I found myself wondering about her. I wanted to ask Martin about her again, but that might not be the best thing to do in the present situation. He obviously cared about her more than I realized before the whole duffle bag thing.

    Then, as Martin and I sat in the darkness, waiting for the sun to hide itself below the horizon, I thought about his family. What was his story?

    ¡°What happened to your family?¡± I asked quickly. ¡°I mean¡­ I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s just with everything that¡¯s happened, it makes me wonder. I know you were turned by Charles, but I¡¯ve never heard your backstory before.¡±

    Martin smiled, ¡°That¡¯s all right.¡± He looked over to the slightly glowing edge of light that crept past the curtains to the wall, ¡°I suppose we have a few more minutes before we can begin our hunt.¡±

    I leaned forward out of my reclining position, sitting up to pay attention to his story. Martin almost mirrored my movements, preparing to explain a part of his history in the dark of the house.

    ¡°I was born into a large family in the late seventeen hundreds. There were ten of us, counting all my brothers and sisters.¡± Martin lightly chuckled in the creeping dark, ¡°My parents had their hands full with us. We weren¡¯t rich, nor were we well connected. My father was a fisherman. My mother stayed home to take care of all of my brothers and sisters. We lived in a small house that barely fit us all¡­ I miss those days. Our family was extremely uncommon with so many children, but we were blessed to have what we did.¡± Martin was remembering some of his most important memories, and it showed in his expressions. ¡°I was much older when I was turned, however. As you can well see, I look like I am still only thirty-five years old. Yet, I lost family before I was ever turned into a killer.¡±

    ¡°How,¡± I asked.

    ¡°I lost two sisters and a brother to influenza before I was fifteen years old. My father was murdered in a muddy street over the few coins in his pockets. I was the eldest of my brothers when my father died. I took on his role and took a job at the docks, just like my father. I started working when I was about sixteen years old. Most boys that age already worked, but I was working even harder. I had a mother and six siblings that looked to me to take care of them.¡± Martin¡¯s look grew darker and more reflective. ¡°As the rest of us all grew, we slowly went in different directions. Most of my younger brothers died in the War of the First Coalition. We were never sure exactly what happened, but they never came back. My sisters did what they could to help bring in money through honest means, but¡­ prostitution was hard for lower-class women to avoid. It wasn¡¯t an easy life¡­¡± Martin slowed his story.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Martin.¡± I meant it from the most human part of me that was left. I really felt for Martin¡­ and I felt like a dick for asking about all this.

    ¡°It¡¯s all history, Sam.¡± Martin was at peace with it all, continuing with the story, ¡°As time went on and we slowly lost everyone, I stayed with my family. I fished every day, working for whoever would hire me on their boat. When I was done, I¡¯d fish in the river to catch as much food for my family as I could, without having to spend the little money I earned. I continued that way until the night I met Charles.¡±

    ¡°Your creator,¡± I remembered the silver-haired vampire that helped fight with us. Martin and Charles¡¯ combined strength couldn¡¯t kill the insanely powerful chimera, Phineas. Still, I believe they did stall him long enough for me to be able to separate his head from his shoulders. Aside from the offshoot version of Alex, Martin, and Charles were the strongest vampires I knew.

    ¡°Yes. I was returning home with a massive haul of fish,¡± Martin smiled at the memory. ¡°I caught so many that I could barely carry the weight; that was a good day. I stayed past dark on a riverbank just a mile or so from my home. The fish were almost jumping into my nets like they wanted to be caught. I was walking back with my catch when it happened. I never saw him coming, he just took me into the dark of the night. Something was different for him that night, though. He didn¡¯t just kill me, he turned me into one of his kind¡­ to be his ward or servant,¡± Martin explained. ¡°That¡¯s what he says¡­ but I think Charles was lonely, although he¡¯d never admit that¡­ not back then anyhow. The rest is as you¡¯d expect. I outlived all of my family, I grew into a darker version of myself, and I killed mercilessly for a long time, Sam. Just like Charles. Together we were¡­ a blight that would pass through villages. I did things, Sam¡­ things that¡¯ll never leave me,¡± Martin said, his voice carrying the weight of something darker. ¡°I¡¯ve tried to atone, but some things¡­ some things are beyond redemption." His tone was sharp, cutting through any illusion of who he might seem to be now. ¡°Make no mistake, no matter what you think of me, remember this¡­ I am a beast at my core.¡± His words landed like iron, cold and unflinching.

    Then, he sighed, a brief release of the pressure that had built up inside him. The hardness faded, leaving only the regret behind. ¡°Once I came to the States, I started realizing what I had become, and I felt my true self trying to reemerge. Once I stopped blaming the monster in me and realized that it was I who made those decisions, I just couldn¡¯t go on. I couldn¡¯t live with what I had done in my many years, and I sought out a death that I deserved. I heard talk of hunters and went to find them. When I laid myself down at their feet, they did not kill me. They kept me trapped within a cell of silver. As I stayed in their cage, I heard children running and playing on the floor above my head. It stirred thoughts of my childhood; before the flu, before the war, my father, everything I had buried for so long. Carter, Clara, and Frank were running around the house above. I listened to them play, cry, and fight constantly. I felt like I was there with them¡­ a child again.¡±

    ¡°Autumn told me once about the vampires that tried to make you kill them all,¡± I said, remembering the story.

    ¡°Yes, but I couldn¡¯t. When I looked at all their little faces, they reminded me of my own brothers and sisters. I saw all my loved ones that I outlived in their family. Even now, they remind me of what has been lost for so long. I love Carter, Frank, Clara, and all of the rest of them like they are all of my own siblings. They keep me connected to those memories from way back then.¡±

    I slowly nodded as I now looked into the carpet. I understood Martin now more than I ever had. He was exactly like me¡­ Well, he was exactly what I hoped I would be like when I outlived everyone. Will I be able to maintain my humanity once I¡¯m truly alone? Will I find others to care for, people that will remind me of the moments I hold most dear? What will I be like in a hundred years?

    After a while of silence, we heard shuffling around in the bedroom. Alex had awoken from her slumber. That¡¯s when we both noticed the sun was down, and the vampires were free to leave the safety of the walls around us.

    In a few short minutes, Alex returned to the living room with a duffle bag full of weapons, but empty of her excess clothing. She was wearing jean cutoff shorts and a very low-cut shirt. Her look was a strategy, I saw that now. These young vampires were driven by their emotions and urges. She could play the unsuspecting victim to these younger creatures that didn¡¯t understand themselves yet, only to turn the tides on them. It also helped her stay hidden. If vampires disappeared from a vicious attack by another vampire, word would spread. If they disappeared after finding an attractive girl to take into the shadows, none would suspect the helpless girl. I started to realize that Alex was a smart predator.

    She tossed the duffle bag to my feet, clanking the weapons against one another, ¡°Take your pick.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m all set,¡± I pulled my silver blade out from behind my back.

    ¡°Actually, Sam, it¡¯s probably best if you leave that here. If someone were to see you using that, it could lead back to the Chasses. It¡¯d be better if you had a normal weapon for tonight. No silver,¡± Martin suggested.

    I nodded, ¡°Okay¡­ no silver, I tossed the blade on the kitchen counter. I reached for a shiny knife in the duffle that was of similar size and test-fitted it into the same sheath around my waist. ¡°Like a glove,¡± I said.

    For a moment I had the thought of showing them the blade I could pull from the void, but chose against it. I knew it would only lead to more questions that I didn¡¯t have the answers to. After Martin¡¯s share, I felt like I should open up to him, but this wasn¡¯t the topic, I figured. That shifting weapon was still as big a mystery to me as the abominable snowman. Now that I think about it¡­ he might be real.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t mess with anything else in my place, did you?¡± Alex asked accusingly. ¡°I know raiding my underwear drawer must have been a thrill for you, but I hope you kept your time there short.¡± She seemed mad at me for bringing her clothes¡­ like she asked.

    ¡°Uh¡­ you''re welcome,¡± I said, confused at what was going on.

    ¡°Your clothes are in there, Martin. I got all mine out,¡± Alex spoke to her friend.

    ¡°Thank you, Alex. Once I change, we can head out,¡± Martin said, smirking at me. He was obviously amused by Alex¡¯s resistance towards me for doing my job.

    Martin picked up the duffle bag and headed into the bathroom to change. Then it was just Alex and I standing in the darkness of the living room.

    ¡°Where¡¯s all your stuff?¡± I asked, curious, where she put it all. I brought a lot, just grabbing handfuls of things out of her drawers.

    ¡°It¡¯s on your bed,¡± she laughed, obviously jabbing at me. I think she enjoyed it.

    I don¡¯t know what my face did, but she was pleased with herself. Whatever expression I held was enough ammo for her to keep attacking me verbally.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you creep. I¡¯m not leaving anything here for you to keep as a souvenir. Your grubby little hands have already been on my stuff too much as it is,¡± Alex spoke down to me as she walked into the kitchen.

    ¡°Wow,¡± I said loud enough for everyone to hear. ¡°I can already tell that this is going to be a fun night.¡±

 Chapter 49 - Night Hunt

    Our first stop was a crumbling brick husk of a building, barely worthy of being called a shithole. Tucked away on the north side of town, near Florissant, it was the kind of place that reeked of decay and bad intentions. This was the first vampire den Alex had been keeping tabs on. A few weeks ago, she¡¯d already taken out one of them; some bloodsucker who tried to bring a college girl back for the den to slowly feast on. That kill seemed to satisfy her for a while, if what Martin told me was true. She didn¡¯t need to feed as often.

    We slipped through the night like shadows, the city quiet and dark, probably around ten o¡¯clock. No one saw us. No one could. Alex and Martin moved with a speed so inhuman, it blurred the line between reality and nightmare. To the human eye, they would appear as nothing more than a fleeting shadow¡ªa dark smear across the periphery, gone before the mind could even process movement. A person might catch the flicker of something in the corner of their vision, a phantom presence that vanished in an instant, leaving only the unsettling feeling of being watched. Their pace was mesmerizing, as though propelled by some unseen force, a momentum that defied gravity, time, and logic.

    I kept up, but where my steps were grounded in sheer power, theirs were effortless, ghostlike. They moved with the kind of speed that made it seem as if the ground barely touched them, as if they were gliding just above the pavement. Alex, always in the lead, was the faster of the two, her movements a seamless blur of grace and precision. Martin, though swift, couldn¡¯t match her fluidity. They looked like they had rockets strapped to their backs, but it wasn¡¯t machinery that drove them¡ªit was something far more primal, far more dangerous.

    I lacked their years of experience and moved the only way I knew how. I was not some hulking idiot stomping around, but when you compared me to those two¡­ that¡¯s what I felt like. My movements weren¡¯t the effortless glide of shadows Alex and Martin embodied. My stride was raw, powerful, more like the relentless churn of a machine forcing itself forward. Every step was heavy, and deliberate, pounding the ground with a force they simply didn¡¯t need. They moved like phantoms, fluid and silent, but I was a force of nature, a storm building beneath the surface. If I wanted to, I could leave them both in the dust. My power was untapped, a surge I could unleash at any moment. But I kept it hidden. There was no reason for them to know just how fast I could be, no need to tip my hand. Sometimes, mystery was the sharpest weapon I had, and I wasn¡¯t ready to show it. Not yet.

    Once we reached the crumbling stack of bricks these vampires called home, Alex took the lead without hesitation. It surprised me. Martin fell in beside her, the two of them adopting the posture of desperate travelers, like they would be in need of shelter from the rising sun. As they approached the door, Alex glanced over her shoulder at me.

    ¡°Wait outside,¡± she said in a low voice, barely above a whisper. ¡°Listen in. Don¡¯t let them see you.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡±

    Martin shot me a quick grin. ¡°You¡¯ll spook them. They might sense you¡¯re not one of them. Or worse, think you¡¯re human. Then there¡¯d be no talking, just bloodshed.¡±

    "Right," I muttered, rolling my shoulders. "So, I¡¯m just supposed to hang back and let you two do the talking?"

    ¡°For now,¡± Alex added, her eyes sharp. ¡°If things go wrong, you¡¯ll know.¡±

    I watched as they approached the door, their movements seamless, like they belonged to this decaying world. They slipped inside, leaving me to stand near the side of the building. There was an old, warped window embedded in a large section of the brick wall; a relic from a time long past. The glass had that sagging look, thicker at the bottom where years of gravity had taken its toll.

    I crept closer, peering through the distorted pane. The building had seen better days, its structure old and worn, but it gave me a clear view inside. Alex and Martin were already at work, engaging in a conversation I couldn¡¯t hear yet.

    Inside, the scene unfolded with an almost casual ease. The three male vampires on the ground level didn¡¯t look like predators at first glance. They could¡¯ve passed for anyone at first glance. Just a few guys hanging around, talking in low voices. There was no obvious malice, no telltale signs of danger. But, I suppose this was normal for vampires interacting amongst themselves. Their eyes flickered toward Alex and Martin as they entered, a silent assessment, a brief flash of curiosity. It passed just as quickly once they sensed their nature.

    Alex slid into their circle as if she belonged there, her movements effortless, her demeanor relaxed. Within minutes, the conversation flowed smoothly. The vampires warmed to her quickly, drawn in by the subtle charm she exuded. They weren''t overt in their interest, but you could see it in the way their attention shifted toward her. A casual glance here, a quiet smile there. They started letting their guards down, and I could see how they subtly gravitated toward Alex.

    She knew exactly how to play the part. Her tone was light, her words easy, but she had them wrapped around her finger without them even realizing it. At one point, she let her hand trail down the arm of the one who appeared to be in charge; just a fleeting touch, barely noticeable. He stiffened, his attention shifting fully to her, though he tried to play it off. The gesture was so subtle, so natural, that it seemed like nothing more than casual familiarity. With my enhanced senses, however, I could see the minute reactions in those below. She was in full control¡­ and they didn¡¯t even know it.

    Martin kept things moving smoothly, engaging the other two in quiet conversation. This was when the questions began. Subtly at first, entering their private world. What were they doing in the area? Any need for more bodies in their inner workings? Martin had to be careful, but he found it to be easier than expected; he wasn¡¯t the focus. Alex was. She didn¡¯t need to dominate the room; her presence was enough to command attention. There was no show of power, no obvious seduction¡ªjust a quiet, unspoken understanding that she held the reins. Martin¡¯s prods for information were answered and forgotten immediately as they vied for Alex¡¯s attention.

    I watched from outside, observing the delicate balance she struck. To anyone else, it would¡¯ve looked like a normal encounter, a casual exchange of words. But beneath the surface, there was a silent game being played, one they were losing without even knowing it. Alex had the situation under control, and they didn¡¯t even realize they were being led like sheep into the jaws of a wolf.

    After a few minutes, the conversation began to shift into more serious territory. The vampires casually discussed where the safer places to hunt were, what to avoid, and who else lurked in the shadows of the city. I saw Martin smirk as a young vampire told them of a supposed bar or restaurant that was run by a very old and powerful vampire. They didn¡¯t frequent that place, but a friend of theirs did, and he was dead.

    Alex¡¯s kill. They spoke about not being able to feel him in their blood connection. I remember Martin talking about that before. Vampires that were generationally close, turned by the same person, or line of people could feel each other through the blood. Another strangeness I would never fully understand about their kind.

    The guy who seemed in charge, the one taking lead in the current situation, had a devilish grin on his face as he spoke and observed Alex and Martin. Once he saw that they were not romantically involved he had only one goal. He wanted to take her down into the lower levels of their den. He wanted to have sex with her, and in his mind¡­ he was going to. Nothing would stop him. I saw him cut glances at Martin, eyeing him and sizing him up just in case he had to fight him. It was subtle but I could read his face from outside like it was written across his forehead. I¡¯m sure Martin and Alex could see it as well.

    As I stood outside the decrepit building, letting Alex and Martin work their way toward the questions we really needed answered, I found myself smiling in the dark. I couldn¡¯t explain it; it didn¡¯t even fully make sense to me. But there I was, leaning against the cold wall, a quiet satisfaction spreading through me. Watching the two of them slip into the den like it was just another night, I realized something unexpected: I was having fun.

    There was something exhilarating about moving through the shadows, running across the city with these two vampires by my side, searching for answers in the dark. It stirred something inside me, something I hadn¡¯t felt in years. Not even with the Chasse family. What was it? Freedom?

    I was finally letting the monster inside, out, not fighting it back or forcing it into submission. I wasn¡¯t hiding. I was using it. And maybe that¡¯s why it felt so good, because I was embracing that power; that raw, unexplainable thing within me as we tore through the night. For the first time in a long time, I felt¡­ natural. I felt more myself than I had in ages. There was no holding back. I wasn¡¯t trying to shield anything from Alex or Martin. Maybe it was because they had their own demons, their own darkness to contend with. It made me feel comfortable like I belonged with them.

    I started seeing things the way Martin did. At first, I hated his perspective and resented his philosophy. That it wasn''t something else, just me inside of my own head. But now¡­ maybe he was right. There was freedom in being what I was without hiding, without secrecy, without the fear of losing control. I felt powerful. The grin on my face said it all. For the first time, I understood that maybe control wasn¡¯t about suppression; it was about accepting it in a way I never had.

    But then, as always, the memory surfaced. The man from the alley. The murder.

    My smile faded as confusion swept in, cold and sharp. If Martin¡¯s theory was right, why had I been completely shut out? If it wasn¡¯t a separate entity¡­ then how had it taken over and given me the back seat? Why had it taken over and killed that man so quickly, so ruthlessly? I didn¡¯t know him. He wasn¡¯t familiar to me. And if he had been someone I was meant to deal with, why hadn¡¯t I gotten a sign? A name? A vision, something?

    The doubt gnawed at me, as it always did now. Ever since that night, it lingered in the back of my mind, poisoning every thought, every moment I felt at peace with the monster inside. Something didn¡¯t add up, and it left me questioning everything I thought I was beginning to understand about myself.

    The questioning inside the building ended abruptly as unexpected arrivals cracked the foundation they were building. Alex and Martin were met by a few new figures coming up from a lower level within the building. Everything shifted in a moment''s notice.

    ¡°You guys hungry?¡± the thoughtful vampire asked as he brought his meal ticket up to share. He seemed to be a nice guy, unfortunately.

    The girl hung limply in his grasp, not moving much, but still alive. She was young, probably nineteen. She must have been in the first year or so of college before finding herself in an inescapable situation. She had black hair and wore clothes that looked like she had just come from a nightclub. Scrapes and bruises littered her extremities, while a few bite marks were on her throat, trailing blood. I felt my blood start to boil, and the beast began to rise.

    Alex registered what was happening in an instant, and her demeanor changed viciously. Her face shifted from flirtatious to murderous. She didn¡¯t want to pretend anymore. She took the girl''s presence as the switch to go into kill mode. There was no warning, only the silent shift in her facial bones as her visage shifted to one of inhuman rage with bleeding red eyes.

    Martin did not have the same reaction, but he was prepared to fight. The four vampires were thrown off by the confusion of the abrupt change in these two strangers.

    The leading vampire didn¡¯t even have time to react. One second, Alex was standing there, calm and composed, and the next, she was on him like a bullet, her body a blur of violence. His arms flew up in a futile attempt to block her, but she slammed into him with enough force to crack bones instantly. The sickening sound echoed as she hurled him into the brick wall behind them, sending a shower of red chips and dust into the air. The impact blew a hole in the crumbling wall, revealing a jagged void to the outside.

    Before the dust could even settle, Martin was already moving, his steel short sword flashing in the dim light. The two other vampires barely had time to process what was happening before their heads hit the floor, eyes wide with confusion. The clean arcs of the sword left no room for mercy or hesitation. Blood sprayed in thick arcs, splattering the already ruined walls.

    But Alex¡­ Alex was a different kind of brutal. She was consumed by it, her bloodlust taking full control. Before her first victim could even slump to the ground, she was on top of him, her fangs extending in a monstrous snarl. She latched onto him with a force that made the very air tremble.

    ¡°No!¡± he screamed, terror cutting through his voice. ¡°What are you doing¡­¡± His words were drowned out by a gurgling cry as Alex sank her teeth deep into his neck. The snarl that came from her was animalistic, primal. The man beneath her thrashed, but he was nothing compared to her overwhelming rage. She was no longer just a vampire; she was a beast, a force of pure violence.

    Blood sprayed everywhere, coating her face, her clothes, splashing the walls as she tore into him. I could hear the wet crunch of his bones snapping from where I stood, each crack a chilling reminder of her strength. He struggled beneath her, but his power was nothing compared to her unrelenting fury. His body gave out first, his bones crushed under the weight of her feral strength. In mere seconds, he was dead, a drained husk, and Alex stood over him, drenched in blood, her breath heaving, eyes wild.

    It was over in moments, but the brutality of it lingered, thick in the air.

    There was one problem. The vampire with his actual grasp over the human girl was still in control of her. Alex was taken over by thirst and rage while Martin tried to determine the best course of action. He didn¡¯t want to get the poor human girl killed in his attempt at rescuing her; if she would survive at all.

    ¡°What the fuck are you?¡± the captor said with fearful astonishment. He couldn¡¯t believe what he had seen, but he was also scared. He had probably never seen a vampire feed off another, never even heard of something like that.

    Alex stood from her kill, face twisted and fanged as she stepped carefully towards the vampire that hid behind the limp human girl.

    He could tell quickly that the two strangers wanted to stop his den and protect the girl, no matter how crazy that seemed in his mind. He couldn¡¯t wrap his small mind around it, but he knew it was the situation. So, he hung onto the girl by the neck, extending his claws to ward off his oncoming attackers.

    The girl hung loosely, with no change in her vitals, but it was going to damage her the way he handled her body so recklessly.

    ¡°Just back up, unless you want her blood on your hands,¡± he played their fears.

    Alex was intent on getting to the girl, but he had her by her jugular. The human¡¯s life force would drain across the grungy floor before Alex could catch him if decided to do it. He could end it in an instant. He looked like he might just do it out of spite since he didn¡¯t think he could get out of the situation.

    Martin had already stopped his advances, and I saw a falter in Alex¡¯s footsteps. She didn¡¯t know what to do. I could hear the flurry of heartbeats in Alex¡¯s chest rapidly surging from the bloodlust. She wasn¡¯t thinking clearly. For a moment, my two friends stood among a room of corpses, opposite the last vampire and his captive.

    I knew what to do. I had already picked up a metal pipe that was leaning against the wall of a small storage building just to the side of the main structure. It was probably about four feet in length and coated in rust. It fit nicely in my hand, and it would sail even nicer through the air as a spear. So, I hurled it with all my force from. It ripped through the void between me and the building, shattering the old window as it broke the pane that separated the inside from the outside. The rusty spear was barreling towards the unaware vampire¡¯s head. He never knew it was coming, neither did the girl, nor Alex. I did see Martin¡¯s ears shift and his head turn right before the old pipe broke the pane of glass. Alex was too wrapped up in her bloodlust to hear it coming. Martin was more honed from years of practice at taming himself, and the power within.

    The pipe met its mark, as I knew it would, and forced itself into the wall next to them; still holding the weight of the creature on its length. When the pipe pinned the vampire to the bricks, it dropped the girl with the motion of the vampire¡¯s death blow. Otherwise, she was unharmed any further.

    The surprising interruption of my pipe spear jolted my two friends from their positions, even Martin who I thought saw it coming. Once the glass settled at their feet, and the girl fell to the ground beneath the lifeless vampire, they looked back through the shattered window to my watching presence. I just stood there while they figured out how to pick up the pieces.

    About half an hour had passed before Martin managed to arrange for an acquaintance to come pick up the girl. He had learned her name¡­ Claire; but that was all she had managed to tell him before the fear took over. We had retreated from the scene of the chaos and death, putting a safe distance between ourselves and the carnage of the vampire den. We stationed ourselves in a cluster of trees about two miles from where the nightmare had unfolded, away from prying eyes.

    Claire was terrified, her fear palpable as she huddled close to Martin, who was trying to comfort her and assure her of her safety. The sight of Alex still covered in blood had left a mark on her mind. The young girl¡¯s eyes darted nervously between us, her body trembling slightly as she clung to Martin for support. Every so often, she would glance toward me, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. It was as if she could sense the darkness lurking within me, and she avoided meeting my gaze whenever she could.

    She seemed to draw some comfort from Martin¡¯s presence as if his attempts to help her were a lifeline in the midst of her terror. But whenever her gaze wandered to me, her fear deepened, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly looked away, as if afraid of what she might see. I remained a shadow in her vision, deliberately keeping my distance, my form blending into the darkness. The fear radiating from Claire was almost tangible, a stark reminder of the terror that we, in our way, had inflicted upon her. Alex and I backed off even further as we waited.

    ¡°Well, that was certainly not what I was expecting,¡± Martin said as he paced back through the darkness to where I stood. Alex was there in the shadows too, only a couple of yards away.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Martin¡­¡± Alex apologized, her face still covered in blood. Though her human features returned to her face, she still looked monstrous with all that blood soaking her face and clothes. She had tried wiping it off, but it only smeared around. ¡°Once I saw the girl I couldn¡¯t stop. She reminded me of¡­¡± she trailed off.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay Alex. You don¡¯t have to apologize. We had to do something, and I don¡¯t think they had any information we could have used. These seemed young, and on a very long leash from whoever created them,¡± Martin suggested.

    I wanted to know what she was going to say. Why had she reacted so violently at the sight of the girl? I wanted to ask but, I didn¡¯t think now was the time. I stayed quiet.

    ¡°Well, only one place left to go I suppose,¡± Martin said. ¡°Are you two still up for it?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°I am. I want to hit anywhere you two might think will lead us to answers.¡±

    ¡°Alex?¡± Martin asked her.

    She was still wiping the blood from her face and trying to look human again; I think she wanted to feel human too. She didn¡¯t answer Martin, only continuing to feverishly scrub the blood from her clothes and skin. Why was this time different, specifically?

    ¡°I can smell water,¡± I told her.

    Alex looked up at me, her frantic look fading.

    ¡°It¡¯s close. You can clean up,¡± I offered, glancing at Martin.

    ¡°We have more than enough time,¡± he assured.

    Alex nodded, making sure her face didn¡¯t reveal an ounce of gratitude to me.

    It was a small pond on the edge of a residential property. It was close to some woods, so we stayed hidden. The darkness of the night cloaked us from sight. Aside from the dark and sleepy house, nothing was around, especially at this hour. A few passing cars on a nearby road was the only motion.

    Martin and I were silent until Alex was done scooping and rinsing the blood off with the fresh water. It only took a minute or two of standing and waiting. She came back to us in the dark, face clean and clothes wet. Her shirt was still obviously stained pretty heavily with the crimson fluid.

    I started thinking about Alex differently again. She seemed rough and distant in the beginning. But I was learning there was more to her than what she showed the world. I think Martin knew what Alex was like, the real Alex. I was seeing glimpses of her through the past day. Ever since I saw her bedroom. That picture and the way it was positioned in the secrecy of her lair. I was starting to see her better. Standing there, seeing her reaction to the blood covering her face and clothes, the shame of what she had done at the den, and even the way she slept away from her home, it made me feel¡­ sorry for her. One thing was certain, Alex was a lot more than she let people see.

    As Alex approached us, I took off the jacket that doubled over my black hoodie. I offered it out to her with an extended arm. She looked at me curiously for a moment.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your help,¡± she said unforgivingly.

    ¡°Your clothes are covered in blood. You¡¯re helping us if you take this. We¡¯re still going someplace after this¡­ and we still need you,¡± I said what I thought would motivate her to take it.

    I saw Martin nod to her out of my peripheral vision. Alex stared at me for a moment but then snatched it out of my hands.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Martin began walking away from the pond.

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    I followed them at a distance. I could hear them talking about fifty yards in front of me, and I tried to listen in. Mostly murmurs about what happened back there. I maintained my distance the rest of the time until we made it to a small house across the river on the east side of St. Louis. This house was situated directly on the river just south of the Gateway Arch. There was only one vehicle parked beside the house in the muddied tire paths. It was an older model, single-cab truck. It looked like it had seen better days.

    I was still a distance behind Alex and Martin when we arrived. But when Martin and Alex reached the front porch of the place, the front light came on, and a person stepped out. They began talking to each other, and it seemed strained.

    I pushed my hearing out to further distances after they were already talking, ¡°¡­only you Martin.¡± It was the voice of an older man. His accent sounded foreign to anything I knew of St. Louis.  It was more akin to something I heard down in Louisiana from my trips there as a kid. As kids, my brother and I would laugh at the accents of our family down there. We thought our cousins sounded funny every time we went to see them when we were a lot younger.

    As I arrived beside Alex, Martin was already inside the house, ¡°Who is this?¡±

    Alex was silent for a moment before answering me. It seemed like she was trying to figure out how to treat me.

    ¡°His name¡¯s Abel,¡± was all she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard Martin talk about him,¡± I said out loud, unsure if Alex would speak to me. She seemed pretty affected by everything that had happened.

    ¡°Why would he?¡± Alex asked bluntly. ¡°I¡¯ve never even spoken with him.¡±

    She was going through something, so I¡¯d give her some slack. I didn¡¯t say anything else to her. She obviously needed space. I walked away from her, into the shadows beside Abel¡¯s ramshackle house. I leaned against a tree and waited for Martin to return. After only a minute of listening to the constant hum of the rushing current of the river, I realized I couldn¡¯t hear inside the house. Not for lack of trying, because I was. I couldn¡¯t penetrate the barriers of the home. It was odd.

    As I stood against the solid tree, I heard Alex speak under her breath, ¡°Shit¡­¡± She slowly paced over to me in the cover of trees.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked as she was standing in front of me, yet she froze as she got there.

    ¡°I¡®m¡­ sorry. Thank you for this coat. Abel won¡¯t invite me in if I looked the way I did,¡± Alex said honestly.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± I responded. After another few moments of silence between us, I asked, ¡°Are you alright? I don¡¯t know what happened back there, but it seemed to affect you more than usual.¡±

    Alex nodded, ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll be alright.¡± She looked up at the stars through the small gaps in the trees. The smog wasn¡¯t covering the area like it usually did in the city. ¡°It was the girl. Seeing her¡­ it brought back some memories. When I saw her there with those fucking leeches¡­ those bloodsucking pieces of shit¡­¡± her fury started to spill over again. She shook her head, ¡°I just reacted. I felt myself moving on instinct. I lost control.¡±

    I just nodded. I didn¡¯t want to pry even though I was very interested in what she would say.

    ¡°Thank you for killing the last one. I was so drunk on the anger, and the blood, that I couldn¡¯t think strategically. Everything was so overwhelming. I¡¯m usually not like that. I can maintain myself better than that,¡± Alex said, slightly ashamed again.

    ¡°I have my times, too. Certain things¡­ things that remind me of before¡­ it makes it harder to control,¡± I tried opening up a little bit.

    I found that Alex and I had a lot in common. We shared feelings about our experiences as monsters of the night.

    ¡°The girl¡­¡± I started, hoping I wouldn¡¯t piss her off. ¡°Did she remind you of¡­ you?¡± I asked, and then prayed I didn¡¯t make the wrong choice.

    She was silent. Staring into the muddy riverbank at our feet.

    ¡°Yes.¡± She finally answered.

    We stayed silent again. I could tell that my prying was freshening the wound again. I¡¯ll stop for now. Even though this new version of Alex was intriguing me more by the minute, I didn¡¯t want to push too hard and lose the little bit of peace between us. She reminded me of myself, and if any part of that was real, I knew she¡¯d need space in her hard moments. I knew this because that¡¯s what I needed when my memories began to surface.

    Alex and I sat quietly at the base of two close trees as we waited in the dark for Martin. It was not as awkward with her at that moment as it was before. I felt close to her in a way. For a brief second through talking in the dark, I felt like she trusted me. It was small, and I¡¯m not sure it would last, but it was due to realizing we had similar struggles. She saw the beast trying to escape me before, and now I saw hers lash out in a violent display of death. We were both fighting for control, hating the thing we had become.

    The creaky screen door spoke out into the night is Martin stepped out onto the front porch. The light above his head cast a shadow into the muddy grass of the front yard.

    ¡°Alex¡­ Sam,¡± Martin called for us.

    As soon as we heard the words, we were up and speeding around the side of the house. We met Martin at the base of the porch steps. He was alone. The old man named Abel was nowhere in sight.

    ¡°He¡¯ll see us now. But I must warn you two; especially you Sam.¡± Martin seemed very serious as he continued, ¡°You must remain very calm here. If Abel senses anything he considers a threat, he¡¯ll kick us out.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to do anything,¡± I assured Martin. I wasn¡¯t sure why he thought he needed to say this to me.

    ¡°I know. I just felt like I had to reiterate it. Able could feel death on us as we approached. The fighting at the den must have left a mark that he can sense. He was extremely apprehensive about seeing us, so we need to be careful¡­ stay calm around him. Abel is one of my oldest living contacts here in the city. His knowledge is invaluable, and I would hate to lose him as a friend,¡± Martin said.

    Alex and I both nodded, watching our movements and attitudes as we entered the low-lit house. We all three stepped slowly through the living room. The old, crooked floor creaked under our steps as we followed Martin into the kitchen. I could tell it was the kitchen since the light that was on revealed a circular metal table with only two chairs. The wallpaper was illuminated as well, really pronouncing the yellow stain of time that was present across every wall.

    As we entered the kitchen, Martin sat down across the table from an old grey-haired black man. He was a skinny gentleman who wore silver, rectangular glasses over his weathered eyes. I saw him take a deep breath as Alex and I entered the room. He did not look fearful, only increasingly aware of our presence.

    ¡°Hello Alex, how ya¡¯ doing,¡± he spoke to the red-haired vampire in a seasoned voice, very welcoming to her. ¡°Sam,¡± he then looked directly at me, very firm and observant.

    ¡°Hello, Abel. It¡¯s nice to finally meet you,¡± Alex greeted. ¡°Martin speaks of you often.¡±

    ¡°Likewise,¡± he assured with a quick glance and a smile. Then he turned his steely gaze back to me.

    I just looked at him with a nod. I felt underprepared for whatever this was.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about you too,¡± Abel stated. The old man stared into me. Then he spoke in a different language, barely a whisper, ¡°Main de la Mort¡­¡± he eyed me with a questioning look like he was searching for something. There was a slight look of fear in his eyes as he pondered me. Not fear of me directly¡­ but of something else. Something in a memory.

    What did he say? It sounded almost like French or something. The tone of it reminded me of my time over there searching for Allen.

    ¡°Do you know something about me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he emphasized, ¡°I do. You¡¯ve had your grip around this city for a while now.¡±

    I cocked my head to the side. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°Surely you know the effect you¡¯ve had on the city. Men and beasts alike fleeing the area. Anything sensitive enough to feel your presence. People I¡¯ve known for years, abandoning everything¡­ to get out before it¡¯s too late,¡± he spoke theatrically like he was telling a story, waiving his hands in mock fear.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, or what you mean¡­¡± I was honestly at a loss.

    Martin didn¡¯t look like he was on the same page as Abel. This was a new conversation he hadn¡¯t had with the old man. I could see in his face, Martin was intrigued.

    ¡°No¡­ no I don¡¯t think ya¡¯ would.¡± He leaned back in his metal chair, relaxing further. ¡°Let me put it to ya¡¯ different.¡± He sipped from a steaming cup of coffee, then continued. ¡°This city is a jungle, and it has all manner of creatures within, human and everything else that calls this place home. Every jungle has an ecosystem. There¡¯s a food chain, and there are groups of animals trying to survive; some together, some alone. Now, when a new predator enters an established ecosystem, things start to change. When the alpha predator starts becoming the prey, things really take a turn. Whole ecosystems can crash and burn if something that doesn¡¯t belong takes root. When an invasive species overruns an ecosystem¡­ you could see a collapse.¡±

    I was hesitant to respond, ¡°You¡¯re saying I don¡¯t belong in the city?¡±

    ¡°No son, that¡¯s not what I mean,¡± he readjusted himself. ¡°You¡¯re carrying something around this city that doesn¡¯t belong in our world. I knew that from the first time you killed here. I felt something out there in the jungle, killing to kill. I felt something dark, I felt anger¡­ pain¡­ vengeance by a hand of wrath that can¡¯t be stopped by those it falls on,¡± Abel was wrapped up in his thoughts. He was more than just an ordinary human man.

    ¡°What are you?¡¯ I asked him, a slight edge in my voice. I wanted answers¡­ I always had, ever since I was turned into this. I could feel the beast down in its cage, rattling the bars. It wanted to know. Or, if Martin was right, it was all me, and I wanted to know.

    Martin cut his eyes to me quickly, warning me with a glance. I hoped I wouldn¡¯t do anything against what Martin wanted, but this guy knew something. I could feel it.

    I felt Alex adjust herself behind me, like she thought she might need to respond if I made a move or something. I guess our quick bond was out the window.

    ¡°Me¡­ I¡¯m just an old man, Sam. I know a few tricks my Mama taught me as a boy. I know things, stories passed down through my family. Things that happened out in the swamps where I grew up¡­¡± Abel explained. ¡°I think the question you¡¯ve been looking for is about yourself, Sam. You¡¯ve been searching for something for a long time, haven¡¯t you? Sometimes you feel like you¡¯re about to figure something out, only to be back to square one.¡±

    I cut him off quickly. ¡°How do you know any of this? What am I?¡± I asked bluntly, anger spilling out of my words. He knew something about me. I took a half step forward to the skinny, elderly man as the darkness within me gripped my mind. I felt the worst thoughts piling up to squeeze this old motherfucker for the things I wanted for so long. I needed to know.

    I felt Alex put her hand on my back. It was a warning. I glanced back quickly over my shoulder, giving her my own warning; to back the fuck off. She eyed me seriously from behind, showing no sign of leniency from Martin¡¯s request. Her eyes slowly began to pulse a brighter red as she threatened me silently.

    I stepped forward.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Martin barked, standing from his seat. He too pulsed the blood in his system to activate his own vampiric traits. ¡°Stop what you are doing,¡± his dark hair twisted around out of place as he moved violently in front of me, placing his strong grip on my left shoulder.

    It all happened so fast that Abel was still sitting there almost unaware of what was going on. He didn¡¯t look angry. He did look curious about how Alex and Martin would react to me since we all approached his house as friends. At least, that¡¯s what I thought.

    Abel started talking while Martin and Alex were in a standoff against me. ¡°There is a lot I can tell you son, but that isn¡¯t what you came here for tonight. You came here about Peter Grimwood.¡± The name coming out of his mouth snapped me out of my anger that bubbled up from the darkness of my monster. ¡°However, I¡¯ll give you the option; do you want to know about the one you¡¯re looking for, or do you want to know about yourself? You only get one from me tonight,¡± Abel added.

    Fury raged in my mind at the old man¡¯s words. Why could I only have one? He reminded me of Jon. Why couldn¡¯t I just be told what I was, and then be done with it? Then, I wondered, did this old man even know anything real about me? Maybe he only knew stories; myths that were just bullshit. It could be nothing real.

    I decided on what we came for pretty quickly as soon as I calmed down. But I had no intention of leaving it at that once this was over.

    ¡°Tell me about Peter, and the kidnappings,¡± I said coldly.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ interesting,¡± Abel was surprised at my response. Then, he actually began telling me what he knew and acted like my quick outburst of anger never happened.

    Martin and Alex stayed right beside me, not trusting me in the presence of the frail looking Abel. That really pissed me off. Although their human faces returned, I knew they were still prepared to move on me.

    ¡°Well it started with you, Sam,¡± Abel began. ¡°You grabbed the attention of some old ones down below ground. They sent up three of their strongest to deal with you. Only one returned. Now, I don¡¯t know the specifics about how you hoodwinked them, but they think you¡¯re dead. Even still, they lost two of their strongest against you. They haven¡¯t felt threatened in years, decades maybe. The kidnappings are a part of something greater than little Peter Grimwood. He¡¯s a tool¡­ a means to an end. Them people being taken now are for a ritual of some kind. The only thing I can assume is to strengthen the Elders. If they felt threatened, even if the threat was dealt with, they¡¯ll want to feel secure.¡±

    ¡°How does Peter fit into this? And how is he coming back from the dead?¡± I asked, not expecting any of this.

    ¡°That Grimwood is here for his own reasons. Probably using the Elders to his own ends, thinking he¡¯ll get away with it. If my guess is right, he¡¯s siphoning power from their rituals in his own way. But he is distinctly different from what¡¯s going on below the city. He is¡­ corrupted.¡± Abel shook his head as he spoke. Almost like he felt something unnatural about Peter as he spoke. ¡°He probably followed you back with that Chasse boy I¡¯d wager. Now that¡¯s a story I know like the back of my hand. The Grimwoods¡¯ banishment from the Collective.¡±

    ¡°The Collective?¡± Alex actually asked from behind me.

    ¡°The union of families: Wicklows, Talbots, Chasses, and Grimwoods. The families joined together way back when to fight off creatures such as yourselves. The Grimwoods got the boot for puttin¡¯ a curse on the Talbots. It¡¯s all ancient history, but you¡¯d be a fool to live in this city and not hold on to that one,¡± Abel spoke about them like he had first-hand knowledge somehow.

    ¡°How is Peter alive?¡± I asked, trying to get us back on track. ¡°Annabelle Wicklow said they killed him once. I killed him already. If he comes back¡­ how am I supposed to stop something like that?¡± I asked the strangely knowledgeable man.

    Abel repositioned his squared glasses and stroked his beard, ¡°Peter has to be tied in with something¡­ someone else that keeps him alive. He isn¡¯t dying, not truly. Even after facing your wrath, Sam, he could still return if someone can keep him alive until he¡¯s restored. It would take someone far past powerful for that,¡± he assured. ¡°Something¡­ from somewhere else¡­¡±

    I thought about his words as we all spoke. This ended up being¡­ a lot more than anything I expected. We didn¡¯t just have one enemy, we had Peter and whoever was keeping him alive. Plus, we had to figure out a way to stop people from being taken.

    ¡°So if we find Peter again, we won¡¯t be able to kill him until we kill whoever is keeping him alive?¡± I repeated.

    ¡°You¡¯d be correct,¡± Abel answered. ¡°However, he may prove to be even more elusive now that he¡¯s met you once.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Martin¡¯s voice held a note of uncertainty, a reluctance to delve deeper into whatever unsettling truth was waiting to be revealed.

    Abel''s response came, his words carrying a simple explanation he expected Martin to understand. ¡°No one just stands there and lets you kill them, Martin. Even if they know they''ll come back.¡± He shook his head at the older vampire, but at that moment, he seemed like the adult, Martin the child. ¡°If Peter''s tied into what I think he is... he might have ways to move himself, or others.¡±

    ¡°Move?¡± I asked, feeling a strange tension coil inside me.

    ¡°Yeah. Portal, slip between dimensions, teleport; call it whatever you want. The youngbloods prefer the term ¡®teleport.¡¯ It¡¯s more new age¡­ catchier.¡± Abel let out a soft, humorless laugh. ¡°One minute, he could be standing right in front of you, and the next... he¡¯s gone. But the reality¡¯s a lot darker. The ties to something that can afford the power it takes for that is something you don¡¯t want to have on you.¡±

    The room seemed to grow colder as he continued, ¡°Only the truly ancient beings, those older than civilization itself, possess the kind of knowledge and power to make that possible. Some of the elders deep in the pits can do it, granted their power by extension from Ancients.¡±

    Martin started to ask something, his voice trembling slightly. ¡°Where exactly are these ancients you¡¯re¡­¡±

    But my thoughts had already begun to drift, pulled into the shadows of my own memories. My mind unraveled, replaying the moments of my cursed existence. I, too, had been ¡°moved.¡± Dragged to places beyond the real world, ripped from reality itself. Abel¡¯s words carried a chilling resonance I knew all too well, though none of them could understand the weight they held for me. Martin and Alex were focused on Peter, locked in on the threat he posed. But I was on a different path, one that traced back to my own fate. The pieces were falling into place, lines connecting in the dark.

    I interrupted, unable to hold back any longer. ¡°When you say he¡¯s corrupted, that he¡¯s drawing power from something else... you¡¯re sure it¡¯s one of these¡­ Ancients? ¡°

    Abel¡¯s gaze sharpened, meeting mine with sudden clarity. He knew I wasn¡¯t just asking about Peter. I was fishing for something more, something personal. He realized I had latched onto a darker undercurrent in his explanation; one that hit closer to my own wretched reality.

    ¡°Martin... Alex, I need you to step outside for a moment,¡± Abel requested quietly.

    Alex looked like she wanted to protest, her face twisted with defiance, but Martin¡¯s hand on her shoulder stilled her. He gave Abel a quick nod of agreement before turning to leave, his footsteps heavy with dread. The screen door slammed shut behind them, the sound a sharp crack in the stillness of the night.

    Now it was just Abel and me, alone in the cramped kitchen, the shadows thickening around us like a silent warning. We sat silently as Abel cleaned his glasses with a paper napkin from the table.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± Able stood from the table and entered the tiny living room. There were two old recliners sitting in front of a fireplace. A small TV perched above the mantle but it was off. Able leaned forward in his chair as we sat, warming his hands on a small fire he had going inside his fireplace.

    The fire crackled softly, casting faint, flickering shadows that danced along the walls. Abel sat across from me, his face half-hidden in the dim light, eyes staring off as if seeing something far beyond the room. There was a heaviness in the air, a tension that grew in the silence between us. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost distant.

    ¡°Before everything¡­ before we had words for it¡­ things were different. This world wasn¡¯t always ours. It belonged to them.¡±

    I frowned, leaning in. ¡°Them?¡±

    Abel¡¯s gaze shifted, locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a chill through me. ¡°There were... things,¡± he said, voice low, careful. ¡°Things that roamed free, things beyond what we can understand. They were huge, not just in size but in... presence. The kind of things that ruled before anything resembling humanity walked the earth. Beasts, creatures, call them what you want, but they weren¡¯t like anything we know. Not really.¡±

    He paused, and the fire popped softly, filling the gap in the conversation with its eerie crackle. I waited, uneasy, as he continued, his voice even softer now, almost like he didn¡¯t want to say too much.

    ¡°Most of them are gone now. Or... not gone. Hidden. Some are here, still... tucked away in places people don¡¯t go. Others... well, they slipped through. To places that aren¡¯t here, not quite. Other worlds, other... layers, if that makes sense.¡±

    It didn¡¯t, not fully, but something about the way he said it made my skin prickle. ¡°Are they... still a threat?¡± I asked, feeling the question weigh heavier than I expected.

    Abel¡¯s eyes flickered in the firelight, his expression unreadable. ¡°That¡¯s the thing,¡± he murmured, his tone cryptic, almost evasive. ¡°They don¡¯t need to be here to matter. Some of them... they have power that stretches beyond where they are. They leave traces. Echoes. And some... well, some can still touch this world, in ways you don¡¯t see coming.¡±

    I swallowed hard, my throat dry. ¡°And Peter...?¡±

    Abel leaned back, his expression darkening further. ¡°If he¡¯s gotten mixed up with that kind of power, if he¡¯s reached something... something old, something still stirring beneath the surface... then we¡¯re standing too close to something we don¡¯t understand. He¡¯s playing with forces that no one controls. Not really.¡±

    ¡°And why would something so powerful waste its time on us? Why dip into this world when it is beyond it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They were solitary in their day, keeping to their section of the world. Once they started to fall, blame was cast. Now¡­ they seek blood. No ancient allies with another. They use our world as a medium for enacting their will.¡±

    The fire flickered again, casting longer, twisting shadows along the walls. Abel fell silent, his eyes distant once more, as though whatever he wasn¡¯t saying loomed far larger than the words he¡¯d given me. I felt it, too, the sense that what he¡¯d hinted at, the vague enormity of it, was only the surface of something much darker, something ancient that remained just out of reach, waiting.

    "But how do we stop the kidnappings? How do we stop what Peter is doing? How do I save my friends when he won''t stay dead?" I asked, the weight of it all pressing down on me. "If Peter¡¯s just a side note in something bigger, how do we stop the real problem?"

    Abel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knobby knees. He seemed to wrestle with his thoughts, shaking his head slowly as he searched for the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was like iron, each word solid and unyielding, carved from some hard-earned wisdom I knew he¡¯d carry out himself if he could.

    "Unleash that thing inside you," he said, his tone dark, almost commanding. "Turn it loose. Tear this place, and all the evil in it, to the ground. Go below, into the pits. You go down there, and you raze those pits into the earth. Kill anything you find. Go as deep as you can. Collapse those tunnels and purge the city of the Elders'' hold. That''s how you stop them. If you want to kill the ancient, you kill everything they have amassed in our world. Then¡­ they¡¯re paralyzed."

    His words landed like a blow, staggering me. What he was suggesting was beyond reason, something no rational person would ever consider. The sheer scope of it¡­ the destruction, the violence¡­ it would have been impossible for anyone to pull off, let alone attempt. And besides, I couldn¡¯t even find the entrance to the pits.

    I tried to ground the conversation. "What about the ecosystem?" I asked, almost grasping at straws, trying to challenge his previous statements.

    Abel didn¡¯t hesitate. "Burn it to the ground," he said, the words cold and final.

    Moments later, I found myself outside his shack, the weight of his proposal still heavy in my mind. The night was thick with silence, but inside me, everything was buzzing; his ominous words, the weight of the task, the darkness he wanted me to unleash. I knew we had to stop the kidnappings. Families were still suffering, some of them torn apart with no idea if their loved ones would ever come back. Some... it might already be too late for them.

    Even with all my strength, and all the power of the monster that lurked inside me, the enormity of the task felt crushing. How could I possibly descend into those cursed pits and take on everything waiting below? It seemed beyond what I could manage. But then, the thought of letting the beast loose, of tearing through the dark, unseen depths, began to stir something in me.

    I could feel it; an unfamiliar sensation rising from the cage where the monster had long been kept. It wasn¡¯t anger or frustration this time. It was something else, something unsettling. It was almost¡­ excitement.

    Martin and Alex were saying their goodbyes to the old man as I was already standing in the mud outside. As they all stepped out onto the porch, Abel spoke to me one last time.

    ¡°When you find him, when you finish Peter, come back and see me, Sam. I may have some more advice for you¡­ when the time comes. Remember that¡­¡± he urged. ¡°It may help you if you decide to go down below,¡± Abel suggested.

    I nodded.

    Then, in a quick decision, I bolted away from the house on the river. I¡¯m sure Alex and Martin would soon give chase, but I wanted to be alone. After everything that had happened throughout the night, and all that I had learned, I wanted time to myself. I knew that if I stayed with Martin and Alex, we would probably end up having an awkward conversation about what happened in there between the three of us when I got riled up. Surely, they¡¯d have questions about what Abel had said to me alone. I couldn¡¯t head back to the safe house either since I knew they would probably be heading there also, especially if they were looking for me.

    So, in a quick moment I decided to go somewhere I never thought I¡¯d go again. I followed the river north, back towards the city. I sprinted through trees and bounded into the branches of much larger growths as I hopped between them, clearing massive distances like some kind of superpowered monkey. I dove out of a tree and into the Mississippi River once I got to the end of the expanse of trees on the riverbank. I felt the cold rushing water push past my ears as I swam against the current, fighting my way across the river. As soon as I found dry land on the other side, I kept moving. In only a short while longer, I was standing outside of a familiar structure.

    I looked at all the overgrown nature and almost smiled in the darkness of the early morning hours. I used to hate this place. It was like my prison in the first few years of my life. Towering in front of me was the old, abandoned factory. The place I swore to myself I would never return to live in. I decided I was going to live differently after everything that happened with the Chasses. I wanted to have a life¡­ but now¡­ I didn¡¯t know what I wanted.

    I started having doubts about what I was meant for, and what I could truly have. I had so much with my friends now that I almost felt like I had died, and this was all just my fantasies come to life. I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t start to think about Vicky. I pictured myself standing in front of her all the time, explaining what happened to me and praying she¡¯d understand. Trying to convince her that it was still me. I had a lot going on inside that I was trying to ignore for a while now.

    Once I found myself with the Chasses, I latched on hard. I think grabbing onto them, and everything I felt, was keeping me¡­ sedated in a way. I only felt this because of how free I felt with Martin and Alex. I hadn¡¯t felt like that since I had become this creature of the shadows. But then the question was, was I supposed to feel free? Was I supposed to feel good when I had the urges and intent to maim and kill at a moment¡¯s notice? Why did I feel guilty while with the Chasses, but free and untroubled when I was around others who shared my plight?

    I had a lot to think about. So, I walked in through an opening that was half-covered with ivy. I pushed it over my head as I passed, swallowed up by the familiar shadows of my original lair. I would also be lying if I didn¡¯t admit I felt something comforting about stepping foot back in my old haunt. Once inside, I decided to pace every inch of the place.

    No one would find me there; I knew for certain. Martin and Alex would lose my trail at the water. Even though I forced myself to stay here for so long, it grew on me in a way. It was funny how being back there was a small comfort.

    A new question burned in my brain. Was my being¡­ entity¡­ was it an Ancient of some kind?

 Chapter 50 - Revealed (Carter)

    We had finally made it back to St. Louis, returning to work and training like always. I reconnected with Annabelle and Bartley as soon as we stepped inside the house. They informed me that the few surviving Grimwoods had no useful information on Peter. Apparently, they were equally as surprised as us that he had survived. They had continued with no contact or knowledge that he remained. Annabelle stayed in close contact with them as the time progressed, assuring them that if Peter survived and she needed help dealing with him, she¡¯d call.

    Allen and Eloise returned to Jane''s just days before the full moon which would soon rise high in the night sky. This wasn¡¯t their first full moon with her pack, but Jane insisted on keeping them close for the first year, ensuring they could handle the changes. I trusted Jane¡¯s judgment without question, and, surprisingly, so did Allen. He followed her rules strictly, making sure he and Eloise stayed within the boundaries she''d set.

    Jane was clear: as long as they could stay in control, or at least be restrained, she¡¯d give them more freedom. I appreciated her approach. She was a strong, experienced leader, and Allen and Eloise could learn a lot from her. If Allen could absorb that strength and discipline, he might one day become the strongest, and deadliest hunter our family had ever seen.

    As soon as we got back from the awkward family gathering, Frank wasted no time reuniting with Jane. They disappeared to his place like clockwork. I couldn¡¯t help but smirk, knowing the few days apart must¡¯ve put a strain on their... physical relationship, especially with the full moon on the horizon. Frank once confided that as the moon got fuller, so did Jane''s... appetites. She¡¯d explained it was part of the whole animalistic curse, and there was no fighting it.

    Every month since they¡¯d been back together, Frank would walk around for days afterward with the most immature, stupid grin on his face. One time, we were watching a truck unload lumber at a construction site, and Frank couldn¡¯t focus on a single thing. He was like a kid about to get out of school for summer break. He was just itching to see Jane. That was the night before the full moon, when she was closest to the wolf; and he clearly couldn''t wait.

    Autumn and Eleanor were especially drained after the trip. We were all on edge, worrying about the silence from Sam. The thought that the entity in the fields had pulled him away to kill for it again gnawed at us. They roamed the house, desperate for answers, reading anything that might give a clue about something¡­ anything.

    We all wanted to talk to Sam, to warn him about what was coming after the time we spent with our cousins; but he hadn¡¯t been answering his calls. The silence was unnerving. None of us knew where he was, and every unanswered ring only deepened the sense of dread. Even Martin wasn¡¯t responding, which made it worse. It felt like Sam was out there somewhere, caught in the grip of that terrifying, unknown force from the fields. The thought of him being pulled further into its control haunted us, and the worst part was, we had no way of helping him.

    Our time at the lake was a well-needed break, that was certain. But it was also a time to answer questions. Uncle Chris and his side of the family knew something was going on. They were front-loaded by Zeke and Arthur before we even got there. I thought Zeke would hold off and let me explain everything first, but he didn¡¯t.

    When we got there¡­ I¡¯ll never forget the first thing Uncle Chris said to me. The look in his eyes said enough. His words just boosted the feeling of disappointment.

    ¡°What did you let happen?¡± he asked me.

    What did I let happen? He didn¡¯t know jack shit! I was pissed. Mad at Zeke for not being able to keep his damn mouth shut, mad at Arthur for letting him do it, and Uncle Chris¡­ for always acting like I had to control every millisecond of what went on in our lives. That¡¯s how he ran his family, but that¡¯s not how I handled mine.

    It took a lot of talking throughout our time there. We played out everything that happened over the past year. We told them everything, literally everything. The only things we were able to keep a secret were the key points Sam had always stressed. We kept his family a secret, and we didn¡¯t tell anyone about the visions or names that Sam got from the entity. Eleanor glazed over a lot she remembered from that other world, still playing like she hadn¡¯t recovered her memories as much as I knew she had. Details she recounted to me in private were scarcely told outside of our bedroom. Some were small¡­ but the details mattered for certain things.

    Uncle Chris and his side didn¡¯t believe that Eleanor was brought back to life. They think it had to have been something Phineas did to her that wore off. We let them find their own truths to believe. It was easier for us than trying to convince them of the real facts.

    In the end, however, Uncle Chris and his side only wanted one thing from us. They wanted to meet and observe Sam. They didn¡¯t want us to be so tightly wound with him, obviously, but they knew they couldn¡¯t control us, as much as he wanted to. Uncle Chris always acted like Zeke and I were still kids, not treating us as the heads of our own families at times. Zeke might go running to Uncle Chris like a child when he can¡¯t control things, but not me.

    Autumn, El, Frank, Clara, Wayland, and I were all on the same page¡­ nod along, pretend we¡¯d follow their wishes, just to keep things from boiling over. We wanted to see our family¡­ to reconnect and bond after time apart, and major life-changing events on both sides. We needed to smooth things over, but first, we had to navigate through the mess. We knew how uneasy they got around anything unfamiliar¡­ anything monstrous. Hell¡­ we were the definition of that, but how we met Sam, and everything that happened slowed our reaction. It allowed us to see him for who he still was before we knew what he was. They¡¯d never understand Sam until they actually met him, but we weren¡¯t sure that day would ever come¡­ not if Sam didn¡¯t pick up his damn phone.

    The clock was ticking, and we had to warn him they were coming to St. Louis. We also needed him to be in St. Louis. But with each passing day of silence, the anxiety gnawed at us. Where was he? Why wasn¡¯t he answering? What would happen with our cousins if they got here, and we couldn¡¯t introduce them?

    When the conversations did finally settle, we got into Allen and Eloise. That was more of a believable story for them to accept. They didn¡¯t like it, hoping they could reverse the curse somehow. Uncle Chris had contacts, others similar to the Wicklows, that he thought could do something. I doubted it. Not that I didn¡¯t want that for my son, but if it was possible, the Wicklows would have found a way to reverse the Talbot''s burden.

    Throughout all of our time away, I never heard from Sam. At first, I thought that was a good thing. He was doing as I asked him to. But then Autumn said he wasn¡¯t replying to her, then Eleanor. Frank tried too, but nothing. He called Jane but she hadn¡¯t seen him either. Something just felt¡­ wrong.

    We still didn¡¯t have full answers to his curse, if you want to call it that. I don¡¯t know what else you could call it. But we knew enough that things just weren¡¯t adding up. Even if he got a vision and left the city, he should have still been able to call, or text at the very least. Right?

    We still hadn¡¯t learned what he was any more than he had. He told us what he knew, and what he knew wasn¡¯t much. Those other people who talked to him in the other place didn¡¯t give him real answers. He told us that they said he¡¯d learn everything on his own. I didn¡¯t like that. What were we supposed to do if, as he learned things, he changed? What did we do if the Sam we knew faded away behind an evolving monster that took away his control, eclipsing his human side from sight¡­ forever?

    Autumn had sucked Kayla into her search for answers as the days passed. She came back with us after the lake, but only her. Zeke and Arthur planned on sticking around as long as it took to put an end to our current problems, but they stayed elsewhere. Uncle Chris was coming to St. Louis and they were helping him get situated in a place he had on the other side of town. Plus, I don¡¯t think Zeke wanted to be alone with me after he spilled his guts to our Uncle. They wouldn¡¯t leave us until we knew the Peter Grimwood problem was dead and buried, and they had met and ¡°dealt¡± with Sam.

    After around four days, we were visited as soon as the sun came down. When darkness cloaked the expanse of grass between our house and the trees behind the backyard, Martin and Alex rushed towards our home in a blur. A dark silhouette shot out from the trees quickly and was trailed by another shadow that held a crimson hue. I knew they were coming, so I waited on the back patio with everyone. They said they had some information on more human trafficking and other things they had learned since we left for our lake trip.

    ¡°Carter,¡± Martin greeted coolly as they arrived. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you all. I hope your vacation was¡­ soothing.¡± The old vampire smiled, unaware of everything that had happened.

    I hadn¡¯t found the time or thought it essential to tell him about what happened. I didn¡¯t think calling him to talk was a good idea while we had our¡­ less than accepting side of the family around. Martin was a very sore subject for our Uncle. Uncle Chris never liked the fact that my father kept ties with Martin, or that I seemed to carry on that tradition.

    ¡°As much as we could,¡± I offered. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you again, Alex.¡±

    ¡°Hi,¡± Alex didn¡¯t say much, only standing beside her ancient friend as he did most of the talking.

    Her red hair flowed past her shoulders and straight down, like a sheet of blood. Her clothing was just as before¡­ very revealing. She never seemed like she wanted to look presentable in typical situations. She was a strange one, but she was with Martin to help, so I couldn¡¯t complain. It just made things slightly awkward with the men, obviously trying to avoid looking at her for too long.

    ¡°Martin,¡± Eleanor cut in, ¡°have you heard from Sam yet?¡±

    Martin was quick, ¡°Heard from him? No, not in a while.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve all been trying to get ahold of him, but he hasn¡¯t answered.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Martin huffed and began pacing around our living room. ¡°The last time we saw him was about a week ago. We three went out to hunt down any clues that we might find regarding Peter.¡±

    ¡°You did?¡± Eleanor asked.

    It was weird, Sam teaming up with the two vampires. He had never done anything like that before. He was very solitary normally.

    ¡°Yes. He thought that if we combined our efforts, we might uncover something to help find Peter. But at the end of our time together, he left abruptly. Alex and I tracked him, but he went into the river. That¡¯s where we lost him. He hasn¡¯t been to the safehouse since¡­¡± Martin fell short. He didn¡¯t know anything else.

    ¡°Something happened to him while you were away,¡± Alex opened up, surprisingly.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Eleanor asked, shifting her attention to the red-haired woman.

    ¡°He was attacked,¡± Martin answered. ¡°He said they were like shadows standing behind him.¡±

    ¡°Did they hurt him?¡± Autumn cringed.

    ¡°They did mess him up pretty good according to what he told us. But you know Sam, he recovered quickly. He said they attacked him with a passing storm. He said they pulled lighting from the sky and hit him with it,¡± Martin recounted what was told to him by our friend.

    ¡°He was still healing when we found him at the safe house,¡± Alex added.

    ¡°What could do that?¡± El asked in fear. ¡°Peter?¡±

    ¡°We thought it might have been Peter if he was still alive. We hoped to find him once we all decided to go out together. But he never told us where he was going once he left us. He just left. He didn¡¯t leave on very good terms. He seemed¡­ very distressed.¡±

    ¡°Carter you don¡¯t think?¡± Eleanor began to wonder.

    I shook my head, ¡°I don¡¯t know sweety¡­ I hope not.¡±

    ¡°He was talking with one of my contacts in the city. A man who knows more about this world than anyone I¡¯ve ever met. They spoke alone for a while,¡± Martin said, his voice low. ¡°Then Sam stormed out, out of nowhere... and that¡¯s when we lost him.¡± His uncertainty lingered in the air, thick and foreboding. ¡°We thought we might learn something about Peter,¡± he added.

    Wayland¡¯s question came cautiously, ¡°And did you?¡±

    Martin¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Yes¡­ but it¡¯s worse than I ever imagined.¡±

    A cold lump formed in my throat. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Peter¡­ he¡¯s tied to something¡­ ancient, something far more powerful than we thought. That¡¯s why he can¡¯t die. Whatever it is, it¡¯s keeping him alive even when his body¡¯s destroyed. If we want to stop Peter¡­ we have to kill whatever he¡¯s bound to.¡±

    ¡°Something ancient? Like what?¡± Wayland asked.

    Martin took a moment, ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°How do we kill it?¡± Frank asked.

    Martin shook his head, ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡±

    A chill ran through the room. ¡°We need Sam,¡± Eleanor urged, her voice strained with the weight of it all.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, though uncertainty gnawed at me. ¡°If there was ever a time we needed that thing inside of him¡­ it''s now.¡±

    Alex¡¯s words broke through the tension, grim and final. ¡°I don¡¯t know if he¡¯ll make it in time. There¡¯s more we know... something¡¯s happening and we might have to move without him.¡±

    Fear crept into my chest, the same fear that had haunted me for months. Had Sam left us again? Did he have another vision, another pull that yanked him away from us? How long would he be gone this time? Ten months? A year? The thought of waiting that long again felt unbearable. Maybe, just maybe, Uncle Chris would get his way in the end, and Sam would be lost to us for good.

    Suddenly, Autumn stormed off, her expression hard as stone. She clenched her jaw tight as she turned up the stairs, and I knew she was fighting to hold back everything she felt. Moments later, the slam of her door reverberated through the house, followed by the sharp sound of shattering glass. She¡¯d hoped, desperately, that she¡¯d finally figure out what she was meant to do with Sam. I knew she still had feelings for him, she confided in Eleanor often, unsure of what the right choice was.

    My heart ached. I didn¡¯t want that for my daughter. As much as I thought and felt about Sam and all he¡¯d done for us¡­ he wasn¡¯t human; he couldn¡¯t give her the life I wanted for her. Our lives weren¡¯t normal, not by any stretch, but they were stable enough¡­ close to something resembling what the rest of the world had. With Sam, she wouldn¡¯t have that. Still, I hated seeing her like this, struggling with feelings she couldn¡¯t control. I wished, more than anything, that I could take away her pain. But I couldn¡¯t.

    "I am sorry about Sam. However, we all knew he was an unknown, and couldn''t be relied upon regularly. We still have no idea what he truly is,¡± Martin said. ¡°If he was here, he¡¯d be a boon¡­ but he isn¡¯t¡­ and lives are at stake?¡±

    After an awkward moment of silence, Martin returned to speaking about what he had come for.

    ¡°What did you find?¡± I asked my old inhuman friend.

    "More people have been taken. Since you left for the lake, there have been five disappearances. They all have the same look and feel of the trafficking from before," Martin suggested. ¡°If so, it very well may be Peter.¡±

    "I followed a few vampires from the bar the other night. They led me to a sewer system in the downtown area. I saw them take a girl down there. I tried to run after and stop them from killing her. But as soon as I went down into the tunnels, they were gone.¡± Alex recalled the events strangely, "It was like they disappeared out of thin air. The trails they left just ended randomly inside the stone tunnels."

    "I too have struggled to track certain individuals through the city''s lower depths," Martin said, his voice heavy with thought. "There are paths and hidden doorways down in the caverns below, secret routes known only to those tied to the pits. It seems there are ways to descend even deeper beneath the city, though only those bound to the Elders would know of them. How I wish I could reach Charles¡­" He shook his head, frustration seeping through. "I¡¯m beginning to think this goes beyond Peter Grimwood. The creatures that rose from the depths: Fitz, the youngbloods, those two feral vampires¡­they all emerged from parts of the caves that remain hidden from me."

    Martin paused, his gaze distant, as though recalling the dark labyrinths beneath the earth. "They must have been shown or taught how to navigate those tunnels, likely by someone far older and more seasoned in the ways of the pits. But I believe we must investigate the area around the tunnels beneath that part of the city. If they are indeed taking humans down below, there may be a staging area on the surface. I suspect the Lemp Brewery served such a purpose; a place to gather the victims before they were taken below, for whatever grim fate awaited them."

    His words hung in the air like a dark omen, the weight of his suspicions pressing down on us all.

    ¡°You want us to go beneath the city?¡± I asked, my voice tight with disbelief. ¡°We can¡¯t do that¡­ we¡¯d be slaughtered.¡±

    Martin chuckled softly, shaking his head. ¡°No, Carter. That won¡¯t be necessary. I¡¯ve come up with a plan where you¡¯ll remain topside, scouring the city for any signs of a new staging area. Alex, Jane, and I will handle the caves.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Frank cut in sharply, his voice hard as iron. ¡°Jane¡¯s not going down there. You can¡¯t fight in that place. It¡¯s a death trap, and you¡¯ll all be killed.¡±

    Martin glanced at him, sympathy in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Frank, but Jane¡¯s already agreed. She wants to help put an end to whatever¡¯s happening beneath the city.¡± His tone softened, but the weight of his words was undeniable. ¡°She¡¯s made her decision.¡±

    Frank¡¯s face went pale, and for a moment, it was as if he¡¯d been slapped. ¡°What?¡± His voice trembled slightly as he tried to comprehend. ¡°She¡­ she agreed to this?¡±

    Martin nodded solemnly. ¡°Yes. She believes it¡¯s the right thing to do. We all do. Also, the full moon is close¡­ she¡¯ll be close to the transformation, making her very valuable as a combatant.¡±

    Frank¡¯s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He wasn¡¯t angry at Jane¡­ no, that wasn¡¯t it. He was terrified. The thought of her walking into those cursed caves, where so many had been lost to the unknown, gnawed at him. His eyes flickered with desperation like he was searching for a way to stop this, to keep her safe. But the decision had already been made.

    For the rest of the conversation, Frank sat in tense silence, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn¡¯t say another word, but the anguish was plain on his face. His fear wasn¡¯t something he could easily hide. It settled over him like a shadow, growing darker with every minute Jane was bound to descend into those hellish depths.

    ¡°We¡¯ve worked out a plan and an area to sweep already. Let¡¯s all go over the details and, if you are all willing, we¡¯ll execute,¡± Martin offered.

    I looked to Eleanor, who was hesitantly nodding in agreement. We wanted to help save the lives of these young people who had been swept up in the cruel world that wanted their blood for power. But as always, I worried for our family. We both did. When push came to shove, we had to stop the evil in the world. We¡¯d do it, as long as we all agreed that Martin¡¯s plan was solid.

    ¡°Okay. But first, we have to get everyone over here. They have to hear the plan and agree for themselves,¡± I told Martin. It annoyed me to say it because I was hoping for a much longer reprieve from my cousins. Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t in the cards.

    ¡°Certainly,¡± Martin knew this is how we did things.

    ¡°Okay. What¡¯s the plan?¡± I asked Martin.

    We took the rest of that night and the next day to plan our mission. This was going to be a big one, and we determined early on that we¡¯d need to call in the Wicklows. We needed some of that gypsy power to fill in the gaps where we thought our strategies were weakest.

    I was hesitant to call and inform my cousins, but thankfully, once I told them the circumstances, they were quick to fall in line. Uncle Chris wanted to stay in the loop, but he wasn¡¯t coming. He and his kids were looking into a few things in the area. I assume they were digging into anything they could find about the strange events in the city over the past few years, since Sam¡¯s arrival.

    The following day was mostly filled with mapping out that section of the city, determining getaway routes, assigning positions, determining teams, and many other aspects of the hunt. Our hunting party was massive, numbering sixteen in total. We had two main groups: one above and one below. As the time approached, and everyone knew the exact details of the plan¡­ we made our move.

    There were three drivers and three teams above on the surface. The drivers would be Shelta, Bartley, and Patrick. The gypsies could use their powers to keep us all linked like they had that night in Annabelle¡¯s yard. Hopefully, this night would go smoother. The area we would be covering was so large that each team would need one of the Wicklows nearby to act as a repeater for their strange power. One gypsy wouldn¡¯t be able to maintain that area of coverage for long enough. Having all three Wicklows as drivers, staying locally around their corresponding team would spread out the load amongst their collective power. Annabelle would be somewhere in the mix, roaming randomly at her leisure to assist in the massive effect we¡¯d be creating in the area. She wouldn¡¯t take orders, though. She agreed to help, but she knew what she was doing. I worried about her the least of us all. But I was concerned about what she had already ¡°seen¡± and what she hadn¡¯t told us.

    Each gypsy driver had a team of three hunters to keep mentally linked to the rest of us. Shelta had Clara, Autumn, and me; Bartley had Arthur, Kayla, and Zeke; Patrick had Frank, Eleanor, and Wayland. Each of the hunting teams consisted of a long-range shooter, a medium-distance hunter, and a close combat fighter. We split everyone as evenly as possible to have at least three different specialties per team, along with their Wicklow. This was the most efficient and strategic way we had determined to progress with Martin¡¯s plan.

    The team below consisted of Martin, Alex, and Jane. Martin and Alex had distinct skills that would keep them alive down below. Frank was anxious about Jane. However, the full moon was approaching, growing a primal force within her that would be devastating for anything that crossed her path. It was so close that Jane¡¯s inhuman power was beginning to surpass Martin. I still wasn¡¯t sure exactly how powerful Alex was, but I¡¯d bet that Jane would be able to win in that fight as long as it was on a full moon. Frank didn¡¯t need to worry about her¡­ but he did.

    The question of whether we should bring in Allen and Eloise had come up, but we decided against it. Jane didn¡¯t want to test them out in the city too close to a full moon. Eleanor and I were both in agreement, but I think we had our own reasons to hide them from the danger. I think we both were scared of losing our son again after we had just got him back.

    Once we had our teams, we knew what to do. We split the search area into three sections and would scan and sweep the city in the darkness of the midnight hour. We were in the general area of Metropolitan Square. Many large buildings in the area shot up into the night sky. We rolled across the empty streets below the metal and glass titans as we located our starting point.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Once in position, Shelta came to a stop in between the tight brick walls of two buildings. We slipped out of the black SUV without saying a word. We were all linked together, and we began at Martin¡¯s order.

    ¡°We¡¯re in,¡± Martin informed the surface teams.

    This was the cue. Clara, Autumn, and I distanced ourselves from our vehicle as Shelta pulled back out of the shadowy alley. The dark-haired gypsy would stay close enough to maintain the effect on us. Still, she¡¯d patrol the area for any incoming problems. She seemed distracted as always, and I hoped she was up for this task.

    We were in the northernmost section of our sweep area. We moved above the city streets on foot while Jane, Martin, and Alex scoured the wormholes beneath the city. They searched for any signs of a presence or force that could hinder the surface operation. My team was on the move. Clara and I moved forward first, Autumn maintaining about thirty yards distance between us to stay effective at long range. My daughter was a crack-shot, and I knew nothing would get close to us as long as her equipment functioned correctly.

    In the dead of night, only a handful of cars slipped through the empty streets. Their headlights pierced the darkness long before they got close, giving us just enough warning to melt into the shadows. Detective Ames was aware of our operation, but that didn¡¯t mean we could move freely, decked out with automatic weapons in plain sight. Each time a vehicle approached, we froze, pressed into the cover of alleyways and dark corners, our movements silent and calculated. We waited, muscles tense, until the lights faded away. Fortunately, they were few and far between, making the pauses brief but vital.

    We swept the area, building by building, street by street. We were looking for anything, mostly ground level. Any craters, holes, cracks, fissures¡­ anything. These murderous assholes would be coming and going from a secluded location where they would be hiding the people they captured. We traced every inch until we came to the last building in our area. The other two teams had swept the outer edges of their zones as well, coming inward to the central parts of our middle ground where all three regions met. The very middle of this vacant downtown area was ominously quiet. We were as silent as church mice as we moved in and out of buildings with our weapons drawn and ready, quickly and tactically clearing them at the street level. We were looking for any signs of entrances to the subterranean levels beneath the city.

    We had one last building, and I dreaded it. One Metropolitan Square, looming high above the skyline, its glass and steel exterior shimmering faintly under the muted city lights. But in the shadowed corner at street level, a boarded-up section stood out, as though the building had been abandoned halfway through a transformation. Thick wooden planks, weathered and splintered, crisscrossed over windows, making the entire area look forgotten, though a sense of concealed activity lingered in the air. It was too big, too well known. It would put us out in plain view too easily.

    A metal door, tucked discreetly to the side and running parallel to the main street, beckoned with a certain grimness. Rust clung to its surface, streaks of dark orange-brown corrosion snaking across like veins, but their pivot points were clean metal, betraying the hinge''s frequent use. Someone had been through here¡­ often. Caution tape fluttered in the breeze, frayed and torn at the edges, yet its black and yellow warnings screamed loud in the quiet night. ¡°DANGER: KEEP OUT,¡± the signs read, plastered haphazardly across the door and the adjacent walls, but their weathered state only made the place feel more ominous. This was no mere work zone; something hidden simmered beneath the surface, and every warning felt like a challenge daring us to step inside.

    ¡°Autumn,¡± I spoke quietly to my distant cover, ¡°Keep eyes on this door. We¡¯re going to check it out.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you,¡± her voice rang in my mind.

    I heard her quickly scaling the building just across from the rusty door. She slung her rifle across her back as she used a drainpipe that descended from the roof to make her way to the top of the adjacent building. She was up there on the third floor in seconds. She had an eagle-eye view of every available angle the door offered. Once inside, she¡¯d be no help, only able to keep others from following us in.

    ¡°Clara, let''s go. Stay close and don¡¯t get separated.¡± I pulled my silver blade from behind my waist. ¡°If anything kicks off, we¡¯ll retreat through this door, and Autumn can take out anything that follows,¡± I spoke to them both.

    ¡°Got it,¡± Clara assured as she stepped forward to grip the coarse metal handle.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you both,¡± Autumn was in position.

    ¡°In three, two, one, go,¡± I counted us down and then rushed in like a ghost behind my sister.

    The moment we crossed the threshold, a stench hit us, thick and nauseating, clawing at our throats like something alive. The sight was worse. The floor beneath us was littered with bodies¡­ if you could still call them that. They were more like mangled remnants of human beings, twisted beyond recognition. Flesh was torn apart, limbs scattered like grotesque puzzle pieces, and blood seeped from the remains, congealing into a dark, sticky pool that glistened sickly under the dim light. It was far more than the five Martin had expected¡­ far more.

    Heads were severed clean from their necks. Their empty eyes staring, mouths twisted into silent screams. Limbs that hadn''t been completely severed were grotesquely bent, arms and legs twisted in directions they were never meant to bend. Bones jutting out through shredded skin. The bodies seemed almost thrown together like discarded meat, as though whoever had done this had no regard for the concealment of what they had done.

    The smell was overpowering death, rot, and something fouler, something metallic and sour that made my stomach lurch. Clara gagged beside me, choking on the thick, putrid air as we tried to breathe, but each breath burned our lungs, filling us with the rancid odor of decay. It clung to us like a curse, the grotesque scene burning itself into our minds as we struggled to comprehend the horror before us.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem,¡± I choked to everyone through our link.

    ¡°What do you got,¡± Zeke asked before anyone else.

    ¡°What is it Carter, are you alright?¡± Martin spoke right after him.

    ¡°Bodies, lots of them,¡± I told the teams. ¡°There¡¯s blood everywhere. We¡¯re too late. Most of them¡­ they¡¯re¡­ it¡¯s so much...¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± Alex screamed aloud somewhere beneath the streets, allowing us all to hear her frustration and rage. ¡°Those mother fuckers!¡±

    ¡°Autumn,¡± Jane spoke clearly through our minds, ¡°Don¡¯t shoot, we¡¯ll be coming up out of the manhole cover on the north side of your alley in a few seconds.¡±

    ¡°Roger,¡± Autumn acknowledged.

    Clara and I staggered backward through the creaking door, desperate to escape the nightmare behind us. The moment we hit the open air, it felt like a lifeline. I gasped, sucking in as much of it as I could, my chest heaving, my lungs burning to purge the sickening stench that had clung to us inside. The cool, clean air was a shock, sharp and refreshing, but even as it filled my lungs, the memory of what we¡¯d seen twisted my stomach. The grotesque scene of mangled bodies, twisted limbs, and that foul, choking stench seemed to cling to the inside of my skull, disrupting every thought.

    It was good to breathe again, but I couldn''t shake the images burned into my mind. Clara bent over beside me, hands on her knees, gasping in the fresh air as though she¡¯d been drowning.

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± she rasped, her voice trembling as she spat the words out, as if speaking them would make it all less real. She glanced at me, her eyes wide and frantic, trying to process what we had just witnessed. ¡°What would do that to people?¡±

    I had no answer, only the sickening churn in my gut, knowing that whatever had caused that carnage wasn¡¯t done yet.

    In a haze of exhaustion and confusion, the teams converged on us, their faces a mix of fatigue and wariness. It was the first time we''d all been together since splitting up in our vehicles, scouring the city in the dead of night. Jane, Martin, and Alex crawled out from the earth below through a storm drain in the street a few yards away. They looked like zombies clawing up from the grave. The night had dragged on forever, and though we¡¯d finally found something, none of it made sense. My mind churned, clouded with questions I couldn¡¯t shake. Why did those people have to die like that? What did it all mean?

    ¡°They¡¯re not human,¡± Alex announced the moment she reached us, her voice flat and cold.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, words catching in my throat as I searched for some clarification.

    ¡°I can smell them. Those bodies¡­ they¡¯re vampires. Lots of them.¡± She leaned into the rusty door, peering into the darkened carnage with something almost like sadness in her eyes. ¡°What a shame,¡± she murmured, her tone hollow. ¡°I could have fed for a week on all of them. Wasteful¡­¡±

    Her words left a bitter chill in the air, twisting my stomach further.

    ¡°But why?¡± Martin muttered to himself, his voice a low, uneasy whisper as if he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted an answer.

    Eleanor, dirt-smudged and weary from crawling through the filth of the city, looked at him with wide eyes, her clothes stained with the grime of the underbelly she¡¯d been crawling through. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, her voice gritty, still out of breath from her own search. She was just as confused as I was.

    ¡°Those bodies are vampires?¡± Clara¡¯s voice cracked as she spoke, her relief palpable, as if the knowledge somehow made it all less horrific.

    Alex nodded happily, and Martin, his face tight with confusion, took a glance inside. He winced at the smell, clenching his jaw before pulling the door shut with a grimace. He nodded too, but his eyes were clouded with doubt, uncertainty gnawing at him.

    ¡°So many vampires¡­ but why? Where they¡­ sacrificed?¡± Martin was still lost, his confusion weighing heavy in the air.

    ¡°Could it have been Sam?¡± Autumn¡¯s voice came from above as she dropped down from the drainpipe, her boots landing with a solid thud on the ground. She hadn¡¯t seen the carnage for herself, but she¡¯d heard enough. ¡°Who else could slaughter that many vampires?¡±

    ¡°Exactly¡­¡± Martin¡¯s voice clung to that thought. He seemed to gravitate towards the idea, hoping it to be true. His thoughts spiraled inward. ¡°Maybe¡­ maybe Sam was already here. Maybe he¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, you guys¡­¡± The voice slithered out of the darkness below a burnt-out streetlight, cold and mocking. It was smooth, dripping with evil intent, sending a shiver crawling up my spine.

    We all whipped around, tension coiling like a spring, to see a figure standing at the far end of the alley. A man, his dark suit crisp against the filthy backdrop, hair slicked back and perfectly parted on the left. Peter Grimwood. His grin stretched unnaturally wide, a grotesque display of teeth, gleaming in the dim light. His hands were caked with dried blood, the dark crust flaking off in places, and for a fleeting moment, a sickly green shimmer passed over his eyes before vanishing as if it had never been there.

    "Can''t you see?" he sneered, his voice dripping with a manic edge, almost trembling with excitement. "I don¡¯t need to be part of their groveling anymore! It was all a ploy anyway. I was just biding my time, hanging around until I got the boost I needed." His laugh broke the silence, a high, frenzied cackle that sent chills racing down my spine. "Once I had it¡­ well, let¡¯s just say I had to put a stick in their spokes. Can¡¯t let the competition get too strong now¡­¡± He threw his head back, laughing again, this time louder, his voice echoing down the alley like a madman set free.

    His eyes darted between us, wild, erratic. ¡°I can take them now¡­ the vampires¡­ imagine the possibilities!¡± His smile stretched even wider, crazier, as his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, the twisted glee never leaving his face. "They did the bidding from down below, for their line of power, but that¡¯s so boring, so¡­ limited.¡± His gaze darkened, flickering with something even more sinister. ¡°They take this meager human life for their masters, when their own is so much more¡­ filling. But me? I can take all life now."

    Peter¡¯s head turned toward the rusted door behind us, where the mutilated bodies of vampires lay piled in carnage. His eyes glistened with sick admiration. ¡°They have a potent life force inside them,¡± he murmured, almost reverently, his voice slithering across the words. ¡°The strongest I¡¯ve taken myself.¡±

    Then his gaze snapped to Alex, a look of crazed camaraderie lighting up his face. "You know what I mean, right?" His eyes bored into hers, hungry, as if he believed they shared some twisted understanding, something dark that bound them together. He laughed darkly, entertained by himself.

    He looked deranged, that grin plastered on his face, blood dried and crusting around his fingertips. His voice quivered with excitement, every word laced with a madness that seemed to seep from his very pores. Something about him was wrong, deeply and terrifyingly wrong, like he¡¯d stepped over the edge into some abyss that had hollowed him out and left this grotesque shell behind. The smile, the laugh, the way he savored each word. Peter wasn¡¯t just crazy. He was something far more dangerous.

    I wished Sam was with us at that moment.

    Martin, Alex, and Jane all started moving towards him, knowing death was on the horizon. They all stepped forward, faces warping and claws extending. Jane''s eyes shifted to large primal orbs of yellowish orange as she gritted her teeth in rage.

    Peter lifted his hand, ¡°Not so fast you eager beavers!¡± His eyes pulsed green momentarily, and our three friends stopped moving. They were immobilized.

    In my mind I spoke to Annabelle, ¡°Are you seeing this¡­ do something! Free them!¡±

    ¡°How are you alive?¡± a voice emanated out from thin air. It was Annabelle as she watched us from within her own mind.

    ¡°Well, hello,¡± Peter¡¯s grin only grew more insane with time. He looked around to the surrounding area, ¡°Come now¡­ show yourself, Annabelle. It¡¯s no fun to guess where you are. Don¡¯t you want to face down your enemies?¡± Peter mocked the eldest gypsy.

    ¡°Your one to talk, you fuckin¡¯ asshole,¡± Zeke spat at the lone gypsy from across the darkened, silent alleyway.

    ¡°Such anger,¡± Peter grinned. ¡°Why are you so worked up over a few vampires? Aren¡¯t I doing you all a favor?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t care about them, Peter.¡± Annabelle¡¯s voice rang out through the alley like she was standing right there, ¡°We want the humans you took. We know you¡¯ve been taking people. Is that how you¡¯re alive?¡± Annabelle¡¯s voice held an unusual tone of fear that she never had since the day I met her.

    ¡°Now, why would I tell any of you my big secret? It would be like knowing you¡¯re going to your own surprise party, no fun at all.¡± Peter started stepping towards us in that black suit, his teeth smiling bigger the closer he got. His eyes were growing wider the closer he got to us. Something was different this time; Peter was different. He felt more dangerous.

    There was a feeling in the air. Something wasn¡¯t right, and it was familiar. I had felt it on a few hunts before. The night my father was killed, the night Eleanor was killed, and again right at that moment. Someone was going to die¡­ I just knew it. It was like I could feel it in my bones.

    ¡°As for the humans¡­ that was more of a them thing,¡± Peter motioned to the door nonchalantly, where the vampires lay twisted and dead. ¡°They had things to do for some big wigs down below. I just piggybacked them for a while. Faking loyalty and respect, you know¡­ that old chestnut. I didn¡¯t need the humans myself, but I helped out a few times; until the time was right to upend their master plan,¡± he waved his hands in the air. ¡°This time¡­I took the human sacrifice for myself. Those poor vampires never saw it coming. Then I took the vampires.¡± Peter turned his hands over, looking at his bloody palms. ¡°What I can do now¡­ it¡¯s like nothing I¡¯ve felt before.¡± He was in awe of himself and whatever he had going on inside. He looked up sharply, no more grinning, completely serious, ¡°Where¡¯s your friend? The one that killed me before¡­ I¡¯d like to have another dance with him.¡± Peter started tapping his feet around, doing some kind of twisted tap dance in the dark street. He was unafraid, excited to face down Sam again. It was like he couldn¡¯t get killed quickly enough.

    ¡°What is it you want Peter?¡± Annabelle''s voice broke through the night.

    Peter slowed his crazy train long enough to answer truthfully. No lies, no crazy, just brutal honesty.

    ¡°It¡¯s simple really. I wanted what your families stole from mine. Power!¡± Peter¡¯s eyes flashed green with strange power, letting out some kind of feeling that made me feel sick with dread. ¡°I found that already though. Now¡­ I just want to make you all suffer like you did to my family!¡±

    Zeke looked at me in the fear and chaos of the moment and nodded. I knew what he meant, but I couldn¡¯t choke the words out quick enough to stop him. I knew he¡¯d never change¡­ he was always rushing in.

    Zeke¡¯s arm shot out like a whip, yanking Kayla back into the group with a forceful shove. She hit the ground hard, confusion etched on her face as she looked up at him, bewildered, her breath knocked from her lungs. The rest of us barely had time to react. But I knew what Zeke was doing before the others even blinked.

    In a seamless motion, he had his pistol out, the barrel gleaming in the dim light, every muscle coiled with intent. He surged forward, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted straight at Peter. The world seemed to slow, and the deafening roar of his gun split the night. Silver bullets screamed through the air, tearing into Peter¡¯s chest like they were drawn to him, one after another, every shot perfectly placed.

    But Peter didn¡¯t flinch.

    Each bullet hit with a sickening thud, embedding deep into his body, tearing through flesh and bone, but Peter¡¯s smile never wavered. It stretched wider, unnatural, as if the pain was a foreign concept. His chest should¡¯ve been nothing but shredded meat, but the man didn¡¯t even stumble, didn¡¯t so much as blink. The air around us seemed to pulse with something wrong, thickening with every shot that rang out.

    Zeke didn¡¯t hesitate. He was on Peter in seconds, his blade flashing in the low light. A streak of silver slicing toward Peter¡¯s neck, aiming for the kill. It was a perfect strike, timed with lethal precision, the force behind it enough to decapitate any normal man.

    But Peter¡¯s hand was faster.

    With a movement so smooth it was almost lazy, Peter reached out and caught Zeke¡¯s arm mid-swing, his fingers closing around Zeke¡¯s wrist with terrifying ease. There was no physical strength behind it, no muscle, no force that should¡¯ve stopped the blade. It was something else, something far more dangerous.

    Peter¡¯s eyes flashed green, the sickly glow flickering for only a second, but at that moment, I was thrown back to the night in the cave. The night with the Olitiau, when I had first felt this same unnerving energy. The same eerie calm that now radiated from Peter, as though he wasn¡¯t even human anymore, as though something else entirely had taken hold of him.

    Zeke¡¯s arm trembled, his muscles bulging as he tried to drive the blade forward, but Peter held him still, his grip unshakable. It wasn¡¯t physical power. Zeke was stronger by far, but something unseen, something sinister, had locked him in place. It was as if Peter was playing with time itself, moving in slow, deliberate increments while the rest of the world raced forward. He stared into Zeke¡¯s eyes, his smile curling into something darker, something far more twisted.

    I could see the strain in Zeke¡¯s face, every muscle in his body flexed as he struggled to break free, but Peter¡¯s grip didn¡¯t budge. His calm, icy demeanor only made the scene more horrifying, like he was in total control. The sick green pulse of his eyes faded back into the shadows, but the memory of that night lingered, a reminder that we were dealing with something far beyond anything we¡¯d faced before.

    This wasn¡¯t just the power of a gypsy, like the Wicklows. He had something else. Something beyond this world. In those few quick moments¡­ he reminded me of Mercy¡­ the witch that came for us all.

    ¡°I guess you want to be first,¡± Peter said, his voice dripping with a twisted delight as he smiled at Zeke. The smile lingered, a cruel mockery as he glanced back at the rest of us, paralyzed where we stood, watching the inevitable unfold.

    The green glow in Peter¡¯s eyes burned brighter, casting a sickly hue over Zeke¡¯s face as Peter¡¯s grip tightened. Zeke¡¯s arm twitched in Peter¡¯s hand, the tendons straining against an invisible force. There was a moment, a fleeting, desperate moment when Zeke looked back at us, his eyes wide with fear. His gaze locked on Kayla and Arthur, frantic, helpless, the weight of what was happening crashing down on him like a suffocating wave.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­,¡± the word trembled through our mental link, a ghost of a thought that barely formed before it was lost. His eyes glazed over, and that spark of life extinguished in an instant. His face, once lined with determination and strength, went slack. The man who had fought with every ounce of his being now stood hollow, an empty shell.

    Peter released him without ceremony, his fingers uncurling as if Zeke were nothing more than a discarded toy. Zeke''s body fell; no instinct to break the fall, no flinch of pain. He hit the ground with a heavy, final thud, like a felled tree crashing into the dirt. The silence afterward was deafening. The harsh reality set in immediately. Zeke was dead.

    Kayla¡¯s scream shattered the quiet. ¡°Daddy!¡± It was raw, filled with disbelief and agony. She scrambled, her hands clawing at the pavement as she tried to get to him, her entire body shaking. She needed to reach him, to touch him, to make this nightmare unreal. I grabbed her before she could get too far, wrapping my arms around her as she struggled against me, her fingers digging into my arms, desperate to break free.

    ¡°Kayla, he¡¯s gone!¡± I hissed, my own voice cracking under the weight of the words.

    But she couldn¡¯t hear me. She fought harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her tears falling freely. She was losing it, breaking apart piece by piece. She needed to get to him, to feel him, to somehow believe that there was still something left of her father in that body. But there wasn¡¯t. I could see it, feel it. Zeke was gone, and there was no coming back.

    We were exposed, helpless against whatever nightmare Peter had become. And in that moment, the terrifying truth settled deep into my bones: we weren¡¯t just losing the fight¡­ we were going to be hunted, broken down, and killed off one by one.

    I remembered what that felt like from the night that Eleanor had died. I knew all too well what Kayla felt. Then, at that moment, I realized something else. This was Martin¡¯s plan, but they all followed me. They weren¡¯t following Martin, they were trusting and supporting me after I approved of the hunt. I had pointed fingers at Zeke for so long about the way they planned and hunted that I didn¡¯t see it until that moment. I was the reason Zeke had died. I rushed into the hunt, I didn¡¯t plan enough, and I had become what I accused Zeke of being.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to fucking enjoy this!¡± Arthur started stepping forward, about to make his last stand against the strange gypsy.

    He was walking straight into his own demise. I had to stop him.

    The roar of the engine came out of nowhere, a thunderous, heart-stopping sound that echoed off the walls of surrounding structures. A grey SUV hurtled toward us, headlights cutting through the night like sharp, white knives. There was no time to process what was happening before it slammed into Peter with a sickening thud. His body crumpled on impact, bones bending at impossible angles as the force sent him sprawling, limbs flailing like a broken doll.

    For a brief moment, his body hung in the air before being swallowed under the SUV''s front bumper. The sound that followed was a grotesque symphony of flesh, bone, and asphalt, a skin-crawling crunch as Peter was dragged beneath the frame. His body, already mangled, grated against the rough street like meat against a rusty blade. Bones snapped with each rotation of the tires, twisting and cracking under the relentless weight of the speeding vehicle. His limbs flopped uselessly, caught between the grinding pavement and the unforgiving steel of the undercarriage.

    The SUV jolted violently as it rolled over him, his body little more than a shattered mass now, thudding beneath the tires like roadkill. It skidded to a stop with a sharp screech, the rear tires sliding diagonally onto the sidewalk, barely slowing as it clipped a ¡°no parking¡± sign. The metal pole wobbled, dented by the impact, but the SUV stopped, its momentum finally giving out as the street fell into an eerie quiet.

    Martin, Jane, and Alex were all free to move again, but they seemed tired like they¡¯d been fighting the hold the whole time, with everything they had.

    Peter was left behind, a mangled heap of twisted limbs and pulverized flesh, the asphalt slick with his blood. The sight of his broken, lifeless form smeared across the street was a brutal reminder of how easily things could end. But even as the SUV rested there, steam rising from the hood, the feeling of dread hadn¡¯t left me.

    Blood and hair were smeared across the bumper and grill of the silver SUV. The driver''s door flung open to let Bartley step out from behind the wall.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I came as soon as I saw it. He must have been blocking us from seeing him somehow. Mom didn¡¯t even know he was here¡­¡± Bartley was talking, and we were all easing into relief that Peter had been dealt with, even if it was for the time being.

    Bartley grabbed his own head, ¡°Shelta¡­ I need you here now!¡±

    We all heard it within our thoughts.

    ¡°On my way,¡± I could hear the panic in Shelta¡¯s voice as it echoed across my brain.

    Then, like something out of a nightmare, a twisted, mutilated corpse rose behind Bartley. The man¡¯s skin hung in shreds, flayed and dripping with blood, but through the mess, an eerie grin pulled at what was left of his lips, half-exposed bone gleaming through the gore. His face, barely recognizable as human, was a canvas of carnage, flesh hanging loose, and only a few jagged teeth poking through the crimson ruin.

    ¡°Bartley, watch out!¡± I screamed, panic choking the words in my throat.

    Bartley spun around, eyes widening in terror as he came face-to-face with the half-exposed skull. The grotesque smile that twisted the broken remnants of the corpse¡¯s mouth was sickening, blood dribbling from where skin should have been. In that instant, a gnarled, twisted hand shot up from the corpse, its raw, flayed fingers gripping Bartley¡¯s throat before he could even react. The hand was slick with blood, the muscles beneath shredded skin pulsing as they clenched down.

    The two were locked in a horrid embrace, Bartley¡¯s terrified eyes meeting the cold, dead stare of the skull just inches from his face. A flash of sickly green light flickered in the corpse¡¯s glazed eyes, and Bartley¡¯s body went slack, his head lolling back as life drained from his body in an instant.

    The corpse didn¡¯t release him. Instead, it began to change. Flesh slithered and twisted unnaturally across the bones as if knitting itself back together with each passing second. The blood seeped back into veins, the wounds closing, the sinew pulling tight. We watched in frozen horror as the mutilated body reformed, rebuilding itself piece by piece. Flesh that had been torn and shredded was now stitched together, slowly mending into something horrifyingly familiar.

    Peter Grimwood¡¯s face emerged from the mess, his skin pulling tight over his features, the sick grin still stretching across his lips. His eyes were alive with a vile hunger as the last of the transformation settled, the bloodstained skin snapping into place with a grotesque finality.

    Once the likeness of Peter was complete, he let Bartley¡¯s limp body fall from his grasp. Bartley collapsed like a rag doll, hitting the ground with a dull, lifeless thud. His body lay crumpled, only feet away from Zeke.

    The air felt colder, heavier, as we stood there, staring at the monster that had just come back from the dead.

    I quickly looked at everyone else, making eye contact with Autumn and Eleanor, ¡°Fall back, now!¡±

    The panic and fear of it all had our judgment shaken. This was no hunt we were on; it was a slaughter¡­ our slaughter. We needed to get out, but how?

    Jane, Martin, And Alex stepped up as we stepped back. They were throwing themselves forward as our defenders. They had strength and power, unlike even the boldest humans. Peter would be no match for them physically.

    The ground trembled beneath us, a deep, low vibration that seemed to come from the earth itself. I felt it in my bones before I heard it. The nearby dumpster rattled, its rusted wheels screeching as it rolled away from the wall, skittering across the cracked asphalt. Peter¡¯s grin didn¡¯t fade, but his eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the growing power. He could feel it too.

    A voice pierced the stillness, cold and furious, like the air before a storm. ¡°Not Bartley¡­ never my brother¡­¡± Shelta¡¯s words hung in the air, her presence unseen, but her wrath palpable. The ground shook harder as her anger boiled over, the power of generations of gypsy blood coursing through the space around us. ¡°You¡¯re going to pray for death this time, Peter!¡±

    Peter''s grin widened, the madness in his eyes gleaming. ¡°Now this¡­ this is what I¡¯m talking about, Shelta!¡± he cackled, as if the imminent clash was nothing more than a game to him. The anticipation of battle, the thrill of power¡­ he craved it.

    We didn¡¯t waste the moment. While Peter¡¯s attention was drawn to the threat Shelta posed, we backed off, slipping away just enough to gain some distance. We wouldn¡¯t leave the fight, not entirely, but we needed space. More than that, we had to recover Zeke and Bartley. Their bodies couldn¡¯t stay here, in the filthy street where they had fallen. We had to take them home. We had to lay them to rest.

    Shelta¡¯s power rippled through the air, an invisible force that was charged with revenge. The very air around us seemed to hum with the strength she summoned, the kind that belonged to only the most potent of power we¡¯d ever known the Wicklows to have in stories.

    A deep dread gnawed at the edges of my mind as I crouched behind cover, questioning everything. Was I really the hunter I thought I was? Had I ever been? Zeke, Bartley, all of them... they had given their lives, and for what? How could we tell Bartley¡¯s wife, Sarah, about this? How could I even face her?

    But the rumbling didn¡¯t stop. It grew louder, more violent. Footsteps pounded against the ground as Jane and the others charged towards Peter, their forms blurring with speed. Jane led the charge, her figure cutting through the dim light like a blade. Her arms strained with power, muscles taut, every movement precise, deadly. She wasn¡¯t running at Peter, she was launching herself, like a force of nature about to collide with its target.

    Shelta¡¯s unseen force wrapped around them, amplifying their strength. Jane¡¯s eyes were fierce, her focus deadly. As they closed the gap, Peter¡¯s smile never faltered, but Jane¡¯s expression was one of grim determination. She didn¡¯t care if she couldn¡¯t kill him; they were going to tear him apart, limb from limb if that¡¯s what it took. Peter had to be stopped, even if only for a moment, so we could get away, so we could drag Zeke and Bartley¡¯s bodies out of this nightmare.

 Chapter 51 - Passing Time

    I had spent a long time pacing the shadows of the factory, where silence wrapped around me like a shroud. It wasn¡¯t just peaceful, it was an escape, a reprieve from the gnawing tension that clung to me. Neither Martin nor Alex had found me there, and that only fed the calm that had settled into my bones. I felt totally unattached from the world¡­ and it felt nice.

    But beneath that calm, something darker simmered, something I tried not to acknowledge. My anger, once seething and chaotic, had cooled into something far more dangerous. A deep, controlled fury. The things Abel had said¡­ the things I realized about the entity.

    The beast inside me had quieted, no longer excitedly thrashing as it had at Abel¡¯s, but that didn¡¯t mean it was gone. No, it lingered, patient and waiting for the moment it happened. The moment Abel had spoken about; wanting me to lose control and tear down the pits beneath the city. When he said it, something had clicked in my mind. His words dug deep, awakening something in me. Something in the monster that felt like it had been locked away until now. The monster had reveled in it, drinking in the thought of carnage like it was its lifeblood. It thrived on the idea, every nerve alight with anticipation.

    The urge to unleash it was overwhelming in certain moments. It didn¡¯t care about reason or consequence, only the thrill of destruction. It ached to tear into the heart of that abyss, to drag itself into the deepest shadows of the pits. It didn¡¯t matter what hid below; Ancients, supernatural elders, it didn¡¯t matter how powerful, how old; the beast wanted them dead. It wanted their blood on its hands, to crush their bones beneath its rage. That dark hunger burned inside me; deeper than any fury I¡¯d ever known. At that moment, nothing else mattered but the raw, brutal need to destroy, to let the beast loose, and never look back. It wanted to be there the moment the creatures of the pits faded from this life and into the next.

    I was walking around the crevices of the buildings when I couldn¡¯t keep myself up anymore. I felt tiredness come over me. It was unusual¡­ foreign to me after so much time as the monster where I never felt tired; not in the way I was now. It wasn¡¯t alarming, especially since I was looking for a way to hide from the world.

    I sprawled out in a small room that had rusted machinery inside. Their positions locked in place by corrosion from years of being forgotten, weathering the element and time. I¡¯d join them for a while. The scents of the oxidized material filled my nose as I lay on the hard cement ground. Then, I slipped away into darkness as my eyes closed. It felt¡­ good.

    Dreams¡­ or memories played in my head. One minute it was Autumn, the next Vicky. I saw my brother, Mom, Dad, Caydee, all of my family and friends. I was with them all, and I was happy. It was literally a dream come true; everything I had ever wanted since becoming this creature. Nothing specific, I was just with them. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was dreams, or if I was just imagining my hopes; but¡­ I didn¡¯t want to leave¡­ ever.

    I felt a fog settle over my body, even through sleep as I lingered within the factory¡¯s cold walls. I wasn¡¯t worried, I just welcomed the dreams as they shifted and changed to pure bliss. The rest of the world could worry about itself for a while. It was like I was in deep hibernation, unaware of the concept of time, worries, or fears.

    <hr>

    Something changed. I can¡¯t say what was made different, but suddenly, I felt a sense of clarity return. The fog was washed from me, and my conscious thought returned. My eyes creaked open, but my body lay still. The moon hung high in the sky, its pale light spilling through the cracks in the bricks, casting soft shadows across the floor and rusty machinery around me.

    I pushed myself up from the hard floor, my bones cracked and popped, protesting movement after so long settling in place. Each stretch felt foreign yet necessary, awakening muscles that had grown stiff. I made my way toward the exit, rubbing my eyes and shaking off the remnants of sleep. I saw dust and a few small leaves fall from where they settled on the surface of my body as I stood and moved.

    In the cool night air, I took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air that bled into the cracks of the musty, condemned building. The factory loomed over me, dark and silent, like a tomb. It was time to go. Without ceremony, I made my way to an exit.

    I headed out, unsure what day it was, or how much time had truly passed since I faded away in the factory. Stranger even, I knew something wasn¡¯t right, but I still didn¡¯t feel worried about it. Honestly, I felt good.

    I guess my mom was right. When I was young, being a little asshole, and throwing a tantrum, she used to say, ¡°A nap¡¯ll do you good!¡± She was right, I felt like a whole new me.

    The glazed-over feeling I still had in my mind made me numb to worries or fears. All I was thinking about was the dreams I was having, wishing I was still in them. They seemed so real. I didn¡¯t want them to end; a part of me wanted to go back to sleep. But I had to get out. I knew I needed to clear my head and return to the fucked-up reality of what had been going on. I really thought I should be more worried about Peter potentially still on the loose¡­ but I wasn¡¯t.

    I did a lot of walking and a lot of thinking. I had a lot to go over in my head after my night out with Martin, and Alex. Martin¡¯s words played over in my head, as well as my experiences with Alex. Then there was Abel. The old man¡¯s strange knowledge and advice got my mind buzzing again. Things he said¡­ things that I connected to his words... it altered my perception of things. Of what I might be¡­

    He wanted me to go down into the pits and destroy everything. Anyone and anything down there needed to be wiped out. Abel didn¡¯t inform me on how to get down there though, nor what exactly I would face if I did make it. That was the first step to his request that stopped me in my tracks if I even wanted to do it.

    That¡¯s the kind of shit that really annoyed me. If people could just be straight with me, no bullshit, no mysteriousness, and just tell me what they wanted, I¡¯d probably do it. If there was a big door down there in the caves that said ¡®The Pits¡¯ I¡¯d probably walk through it; and, nine times out of ten, if I ran into some fucked up creatures¡­ I¡¯d probably kill them too. But I guess life just isn¡¯t that easy.

    The more I walked the outskirts of the city, running the possibility through my mind, the more curious I became about the ¡°elders¡± below and the ¡°ancient¡± beings Abel spoke of. From all the things I had heard, the pits were like a whole other world for the supernatural. It was where the evil rested and hid from greater society. They could remain a shadow in the civilized world, giving them the edge¡­ the power to be the unknown. The pits were also a haven for creatures of the night to escape from any potential dangers that lurked above; those being few and far between.

    There was a vampire that escaped me in the early days of my time with the Chasses. He got away that night Autumn and I were attacked, and I never saw him again. Martin had a run-in with the guy, but after that, he disappeared. He probably still hid down there¡­ worried he might run into the dark-eyed creature that slayed his friends. Unless he believed the lie that was told to the elders; that I had been killed by the silver-haired vampire, Charles.

    I was very close to Martin¡¯s safe house. I hopped over a slow-moving train that blocked my path on a railroad, lazily making its way to wherever it was going. The screeching metal and mechanical rumble of the train slowly distanced itself from me as I began walking towards the safehouse. I''d need to clean up and get some new clothes. I just hoped nobody else would be there. I still didn¡¯t want to deal with anyone while I felt such uncertainty about what I had inside me, and what I was tied to. I wanted the carelessness that had crept over me to last a while longer, but I knew if I had visitors, that it would be swept away quickly.

    I stepped through a thick patch of trees where no people or structures were in sight. Lights lingered in the distance, but I was still far from any other souls as I moved between the trees.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± a voice called behind me in the middle of the night.

    I spun on my heels quickly to see who the fuck was trying to sneak up on me. No one got the drop on me.

    I felt a thick shroud blanket the area, descending upon me like an unseen veil. It rushed in all at once, coiling around me and hanging in the air in a rough circle about fifty yards in diameter. This dense sheen felt alive, pulsating with an unsettling energy that distorted the things in the distance. The world beyond this hazy sheen faded into a distant memory, creating a barrier that isolated me from the rest of the world.

    Inside this strange pocket of existence, the air was heavy, thick enough to taste, and it wrapped around me like a suffocating embrace. The silence deepened, amplifying the eerie stillness as if the universe itself held its breath, waiting for something to unfold. I could feel a low hum vibrating through the ground beneath my feet, a warning of the otherworldly power stirring in the shadows.

    At that moment, it was as though I had stepped into another realm¡­ just outside of the real world. It seemed almost like¡­ I was still in the physical world¡­ but not. A sense of foreboding gripped me, as if unseen eyes were watching, lurking just beyond the fog, ready to pounce. The isolation was suffocating. The weight of the unknown pressed down on me, and I could feel forces at play, pulling at the edges of my senses as this new place settled. Even stranger, I felt the monster inside its cage¡­ it was eager. It welcomed whatever this was.

    Then, at the border across from me, stood a familiar figure.

    I met the gaze of a familiar black-eyed face; it was in the form of Jon, but I knew who it really was. The terrifyingly ominous aura told me all I needed to know. This form, the one he started showing himself to me with, was only a fraction of his immense power, but equally as identifiable. From what I could tell, this guy had no equal; none that I had met so far. When he decided to let me feel his power, I felt like an ant beneath a giant¡¯s heel. But¡­ I didn¡¯t feel that at the moment. This was different.

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    "This is new," I said slowly, looking around the perimeter.

    "I need to speak with you.¡± His voice was cold and emotionless.

    "About," I asked, unsure if I should pretend like I cared.

    "Something has come to my attention. The one who was agitating the beast before, I sensed his presence again. He only appears when he slips out from behind the veil he is cloaked in. Only when he is careless. He''s back, and he¡¯s here in this city¡­ with your friends.¡±

    ¡°What¡­ my friends? No,¡± I replied. ¡°They aren¡¯t even here. They left town.¡±

    ¡°They are back, and they are going up against him.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I shook my head. It didn¡¯t make sense; they had just left.

    ¡°You have been under his power again. He knows now that he cannot kill you, so he is trying to tranquilize you¡­ keep you away while he works to become stronger. You¡¯ve been asleep.¡±

    ¡°Peter Grimwood?¡± I was shocked. It couldn''t be right. ¡°I killed him."

    ¡°You have been asleep for eight days,¡± Jon said. ¡°This person has been throwing off the balance for years. He has been taught how to stay hidden from me, only showing glimpses of themselves through the acts of others. He has been told of the rules. He has a¡­ benefactor.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± I growled, holding back the urge to snap. ¡°How can you see everyone else you send me after, but not him? I killed Peter. That¡¯s not in question. The only way he¡¯s still here is if he crawled back from the dead.¡± I stared Jon down, the words heavy with suspicion. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that tip your fucking balance?¡±

    Jon''s expression remained cold, emotionless. ¡°I can only grant the vision when the balance has shifted far enough,¡± he said, his gaze distant, fixed on the hazy outline of St. Louis like he was seeing something buried deep within its shadows. ¡°Peter Grimwood¡­ he¡¯s entangled in threads you¡¯ve already touched, intertwined with the deaths of those we needed removed. But he¡¯s cloaked, hidden by a force beyond your comprehension¡­ and it shields him from my sight.¡±

    I cut him off, my voice hard. ¡°An Ancient, then?¡± The words felt sharp on my tongue, spit out with the venom of realization. I wanted to see how he¡¯d react, wanted to prove I was onto him.

    Jon smiled, a slow, unnerving curl of his lips. ¡°You¡¯ve learned something¡­ good. You''re edging closer to the truth. Keep digging.¡±

    My gut twisted. ¡°So, what are you, then? Another Ancient? You and whatever Peter¡¯s tied to¡­ is this some kind of power struggle I¡¯ve been dragged into? I¡¯m just a pawn, right? This balance you talk about¡­ what is it? Balance between you and the other ancient assholes that hide around the world.¡± The sick feeling rose, knowing I was trapped in a game too big for me to even see the board.

    Jon¡¯s eyes darkened, his voice dropping into something more chilling. ¡°When the time comes, Sam¡­ you won¡¯t need to ask. You¡¯ll feel the truth in your very bones.¡± His stare was empty, black as if the humanity in him had drained away. ¡°But you¡¯re still not ready yet. You cannot comprehend what they are¡­ let alone my purpose¡­ or yours; not until you come to terms with things on your own. You need to open your eyes¡­¡±

    My fists clenched, every nerve bristling with resistance. I wished I could reach out and smack this guy. It was always lingering around the unanswered questions. I wanted answers.

    ¡°Peter¡¯s hiding. Using people to do his dirty work without drawing too much from his patron¡¯s power,¡± Jon continued. ¡°But now¡­ he disobeyed¡­ he¡¯s stepped out of the shadows¡­ and I saw him.¡±

    I spoke up, interrupting him, but I think he knew it was coming, ¡°If you saw him then send me! Give me his name¡­ the vision. Let me kill him so I can protect my friends!¡± My words were laced with power and will from my soul. He had to listen.

    ¡°I cannot.¡±

    I shook my head in anger, ¡°Why? You can¡¯t¡­ or you won''t?¡±

    Jon looked me dead in the eyes and corrected himself with his same monotone voice, ¡°I will not.¡±

    A moment passed between us, and I gritted my teeth as he decided to just blow me off. He just stared at me, waiting to see what I¡¯d say.

    ¡°The crows led you to a boy, then to a man. That man was nothing more than a tool; Peter¡¯s puppet. And Peter himself? Just a piece in a larger game, guided by an ancient entity shifting the balance in its favor.¡± Jon¡¯s voice was too calm, too knowing. ¡°He¡¯s stolen power from those he¡¯s killed, used it to fuel his own. He¡¯s done this across your world, countless times. By all rights he should be killed, met by my beast¡¯s vengeful hand. But in the grand scheme of things¡­ Peter¡¯s insignificant. A mere speck in a long history of souls who crave power at any cost. Everything he¡¯s done is just another ripple in a greater pond. He is following the will of something much greater. However,¡± Jon¡¯s smile twisted into something darker, ¡°we can use him.¡±

    My skin crawled at the grin spreading across his face. ¡°How? And for what?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve set events into motion, actions that have taken centuries to unfold. Ancients grow influence and make moves slowly, over the course of decades¡­ centuries. Peter¡¯s death will be swift when the time comes, but the death of the one who sent Peter is what I am truly after.¡±

    Jon was very honest about this part, trying to make me understand. It was a rare light of knowledge in this dark and twisted world of unknowns.

    ¡°Why are you telling me all this now?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Because¡­ when the time comes, I need for you to stop resisting. Use the power I have given you. All of it.¡± Jon¡¯s eyes were cold black spheres, boring into me with unshakable resolve.

    I felt anger and resentment surge towards him quickly. My human side hated him for tasking me with his will. Why couldn¡¯t he just fucking do it?

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± I snapped, the words cutting like a blade. ¡°I¡¯m not your damn puppet. I¡¯m not some murderer. This¡­ thing inside me¡­ this monster, it¡¯s making me do things I would have never done. That man in the alley? I could feel it forcing my hand, taking my body over completely. It felt like I was some rabid animal¡­ chasing him down for the pleasure of it. I knew nothing about him¡­ he could have been innocent, someone''s father¡­ brother¡­ I didn¡¯t know anything about him, and I just killed him.¡± I shook my head in disgust. ¡°I¡¯ll fight you to the end of time before I just give up and let you control me.¡±

    Jon¡¯s expression shifted; weariness mixed with the frustration of dealing with a stubborn child. ¡°Lyle Holt, the man you killed¡­ he walked in the same circles as Peter. Not under the shadow of the same Ancient, but another. My power¡­ the ¡®monster¡¯ inside you sensed it. Urged you to act. You denied it. But when I call, you answer. That was the deal you made for Eleanor to return. It will be upheld.¡±

    His words were iron; cold, unyielding. A strange relief settled over me, knowing that man wasn¡¯t some innocent victim. He was involved in something dark, twisted. It hit me all at once, leaving me breathless, but I still had a storm of questions swirling in my mind. I felt a sigh of relief exhale from my body unexpectedly like I had let out the breath that I had been holding onto since that night I killed him. I was taking Jon¡¯s word for it¡­ but I didn¡¯t question it. For some reason¡­ it felt true. The monster agreed from down in its cage.

    ¡°Another Ancient? I asked. ¡°How many are there?¡± I shuddered at the thought of the immensity, feeling too big for me to do anything about. I had never seen one, but I felt a weight to them as we spoke.

    ¡°One is too many for this age. They all need to meet their end.¡±

    I started to realize my emotions and thoughts had run wild for a while. I assumed things and got way off track with the entity¡­ Jon, whatever the fuck I was supposed to call him. I was here now, and I needed to learn as much as I could.

    ¡°What exactly are the Ancients?¡± I wanted to know. I was ready to learn.

    Jon was silent, measuring his words to not give away too much. I still didn¡¯t understand why he couldn¡¯t just tell me¡­ but I¡¯d take what he could give.

    ¡°What they are is unimportant. What you should know is that their purpose came to an end a long time ago. However, after only a few fell and breathed their last, the rest went into hiding. Some buried themselves beneath the earth. Others found an escape into other worlds; other planes of existence. As humanity grew and evolved, they stayed away, fearing that if they returned¡­ they too would die. Now they poke and prod from afar, trying to tip the balance in their favor to one day return.¡±

    ¡°Peter¡¯s¡­ is trying to return?¡± I asked, worried what that would mean for my friends and family.

    ¡°He has for a long time¡­ they all do¡­ in their own ways,¡± Jon seemed done explaining things.

    ¡°If Peter survived what I did to him, what else can I do?¡±

    John nodded his head like he knew I was going to ask this question. ¡°When the time comes, I will show you what to do," John spoke like it was pure fact and fact alone. "Until then, you may want to reach your friends. They are experiencing something right now¡­ deaths that were not meant to be¡­¡±

    My mind went into overdrive, "What! Who?¡± I begged for the information.

    ¡°Peter is there, attempting to complete his ritual before you awaken. However, his focus on the task seems to have loosened his hold over you.¡±

    ¡°How can he affect me like that?¡± I asked, still shaken by the thought of losing so much time. What had happened while I was asleep?

    ¡°He has many abilities granted by the one he serves, but they will soon fail against you. You continue to grow in strength, while he will not be able to keep up forever.¡±

    I asked bluntly, ¡°Can¡¯t you see him now? Can''t you do something?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I can see him. But I won¡¯t stop what he is doing,¡± John told me.

    ¡°What, you have to!" I urged. ¡°If you come with me, we can kill him tonight, for good. We can help them!¡± I felt a hint of hope like we could end this now and no one would have to die.

    "I cannot enter the city with you." Jon''s voice was cold, calculating, as if this was all part of some larger, unseen equation. "Even in this form, if I approached your friends or crossed the city¡¯s boundaries... the deaths would spiral out of control." His expression was stone, eyes reflecting nothing but dark purpose. "I can only manifest a fraction of myself here in this veil, and even that has limits."

    He paused, gaze hardening as if weighing more than just the present moment. "But there''s something more you need to grasp. A lesson that will serve you the longer you live in this role. You don''t get to save everyone. The balance must be maintained. People die, not just because of chance, but because the world demands equilibrium. Every choice you make tilts that balance into something¡¯s direction, and there are always consequences. I¡¯m not here to tip the scales in your favor whenever it suits you. That¡¯s not how this works."

    His stare was unflinching, colder than before. I gritted my teeth, wanting to punch him in his fucking face. Angry that he thought he could teach me some kind of lesson like this when my friend''s lives could be on the line.

    "We are bound to a path now. The Ancient will fall, and nothing else changes until then. The balance remains intact, no matter who it costs. You need to learn to live within it. I¡¯ve set this course, and it will stay that way!" His black, lifeless eyes bore into me, a silent warning that this wasn''t just about power, it was about maintaining things the way he set them, regardless of who else paid the price. His final words actually felt like they had an emotion behind them, but I couldn¡¯t place what it was.

    I looked toward the city again, my heart hammering in my chest. Was he done talking? I didn¡¯t care. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to make it in time. What if it was Autumn? What if she was the one about to die? I couldn¡¯t let that happen. No matter what this cold bastard said, I had to get to her.

    The shimmering haze around me vanished, and my body took over before I even realized it. My feet slammed into the ground, muscles surging as I pushed off with everything I had, gouging deep marks into the earth where I stood. I whipped my head back, just for a second, ready to scream one last thing at Jon¡­ to tell him to go fuck himself, but he was already gone. Whatever that place had been, it was gone too. I was back in the real world.

    So I ran. I ran like hell, like the wind was on fire beneath my heels, every breath a desperate drag of air. My senses flared, straining, clawing for any hint of my friends¡¯ location, any sign of where Autumn might be. I couldn¡¯t lose her. Not today. Not ever.

 Chapter 52 - Helpless

    I found them in an alley after I heard a screeching vehicle grinding across stone and brick. The squeal peeled out into the city sky, alerting me to their presence. I took off as soon as I heard it, but not before I heard someone scream out for Bartley. I was on top of some very tall buildings, leaping across streets high in the sky.

    The closer I got, the more I started feeling a literal shaking in the area. It was like a vibration in the air, invading everything that fell inside its range. It was power¡­ the gypsies were the only ones I could think of that could be doing it¡­ maybe Annabelle. It felt like it was everywhere. I didn¡¯t understand how humans across the city couldn¡¯t feel it, they had to.

    Once I hit the roofs closer to where the noises were coming from in the dead of night, I could see other creatures lurking above the alleyway, looking down at a possible meal. These beasts were not human, not even in the slightest. If they were at one point, it was a very, very, very long time past. These beasts were light brown at one point but had been overtaken with a pale hue, making their leathery skin look sickly and weak. Thinly growing, long white hair crept out from the spine of all of the beasts at random spots along their backs. They stood on all fours like dogs but were the size of a grown man. Their faces were stretched and elongated towards the bottom jaw forming a massive underbite with jagged, brutal teeth. Slobber, and who knows what other fluid dripped from their mouths as they sucked in the scents of the those they hunted below. There were about six of these disgusting creatures randomly spaced on both sides of the alley, waiting to strike. Vicious snarls and grunts escaped their throats as they gazed upon their prey below. They were going to kill and eat them all. I had never seen nor read of anything like this in any of the bestiaries. Nobody below saw what roamed the rooftops as chaos unfolded on the street. Primal death snarled and paced above, waiting for some kind of signal to attack. They looked wild, yet they seemed coordinated by something unseen. It was like they were all connected to a much smarter and controlled being. I felt like if they were let loose on their own, they would be nothing more than rampaging animals out for blood.

    Down below, I saw her dark hair falling down one side of her chest. I could hear her heart fluttering a hundred miles an hour in the panic of what was going on, but her movements were calm and slow. Autumn was safe. She was behind concrete cover and actively tuning in her scope to fire towards a flurry of action at the far end of the alley. Carter and Wayland shot quickly towards the fighting between all of the supernatural creatures. Autumn¡¯s shots were slower, and more carefully thought out. Every seven to ten seconds, Autumn would pop off a silenced round that would fly between Jane and Alex to hit Peter in his failing body. I did a headcount of all the people I saw hiding behind cover. However, I soon saw two bodies lying on the pavement. It was Zeke¡­ and Bartley.

    I could sense it. The same scent that I knew all too well. They were gone. This thought sent me into a pulsing rage to move forward and protect the Chasses¡­ to not let whatever happened to them, happen to my friends. My mind was in a rush as I witnessed everything before me. However, in the back of my mind¡­ I was just happy that it wasn¡¯t any of the Chasses I was so close to now. I hated myself for the thought like it was a sign of more of my humanity leaving me¡­ but it was true, and I couldn¡¯t help it.

    Martin and Alex were flaying the gypsy alive as they flailed and fought against the Grimwood man¡¯s surprising physical strength. He seemed to grow stronger the more his eyes burned with that eerie green force. He was a mystery, and he could probably do a lot more things that would surprise us all just as much as the brute force inside of his lanky frame.

    Jane prowled around the carnage like a predator savoring her prey''s final moments. The storm of claws and blood raged before her, but she moved with cold, calculated intent. Each step was measured, her eyes narrowing with ruthless focus. When she saw an opening, she didn¡¯t just dive in¡­ she tore into Peter with a savage force that ripped him away from the vampires, his body helpless under her brutal assault. Her claws shredded through him like he was nothing, her dominance unmistakable. The raw, animalistic power surging from her was impressive, eclipsing anything I had ever witnessed in her kind. Near the full moon, Jane wasn¡¯t just powerful, she was a force of nature. Her movements were precise, deadly, and each strike proved that she had mastered the wolf. Compared to the other Alpha I met, Darry, who had always seemed like a reckless brute, Jane was the embodiment of control and violence, a predator reigning supreme in her element.

    A passing thought flew into my mind. I wondered if the werewolves that kept the beast under control actually grew in power further than those that let it run wild. Jane was the polar opposite of Darry when it came to unleashing the wolf. However, she was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, and Darry had a whole pack that fell to me. I think if I went toe to toe with Jane right now¡­ she¡¯d at least give me more of a fight before I ended her.

    Peter was thrown from Jane''s grasp before he could get the upper hand during her surprise attack. His bloody and beaten body looked like it was nearing its end, but his strange grin only grew creepier. He wasn¡¯t going to stop. He was nowhere near his end, he just couldn¡¯t match the ferocity of the Chasse family¡¯s inhuman friends. He couldn¡¯t get a moment of freedom as he was passed between the monstrosities.

    First, I¡¯d kill these monsters on top of the roofs, then, if Peter was still standing, I would end him¡­ no matter what Jon said. I couldn¡¯t let anyone else fall tonight.

    I moved in absolute silence, my breath steady, my heartbeat eerily calm. There was no need for the transformation. Not for this. The rooftop beasts would fall first, but Peter had to see me, human and unrelenting when I ended him. I wanted him to know exactly who had come for him¡­ again. As I sprinted through the shadows, my hand reached into the void, the unseen realm where my blade rested. It wasn¡¯t just a weapon, it was something darker, something beyond this world. When my fingers closed around its hilt, the air around me seemed to still, as if this natural world recoiled from its presence.

    The moment the blade crossed into the physical world, I felt it¡­ an unnatural surge of power flooding my veins, tightening my muscles, sharpening every thought and sense. The blade thrummed with an otherworldly power, one that resonated with my very core. It whispered through me, a connection deeper than any beast or primal rage. The creature inside me, normally straining against its cage, was calm, almost reverent. It didn¡¯t claw for release. Instead, it fed me its power willingly, content to watch as I moved with this murderous darkness in my grip. It was clear; this weapon was far more than some shape-changing tool. Jon, the real Jon, had said it was more symbolic¡­ but I felt raw uninhibited power in its form. It was an extension of something otherworldly, and through it, I would carve my way to Peter.

    I stuck the blade into the first two creatures before any of the other nasty four-legged monsters turned their enhanced ears. Unsurprisingly, they both fell over, legs locked out straight as the long-carved steel severed away parts of their brains. For anyone else, this probably wouldn¡¯t work, but I put enough strength behind my attacks that it was like being hit by a knife-wielding school bus.

    The third one heard the sound of the first two¡¯s death throws after my blade carved a tunnel through their heads. So, the third jumped at me as soon as it saw my hooded form approaching. I caught it by the throat and slammed its chest cavity into a small pipe that extended out of the roof by my feet. It whimpered and growled as the pain tore its mind from the hunt. I knew this much attention would alert those below to my presence, but that was okay. I lifted my leg up and stomped down on its head. Blood and meat spit out in all directions as its skull became flattened, expelling whatever this thing called a brain. The gore was piling up on the roof. A stray thought came, hoping that these things would burn off in the sun, like vampires. If not¡­ someone was going to have a bad time.

    The rest fell like mosquitos in a bug zapper. They flocked directly to the thing that was made to kill them. The last beast was more evasive, attempting to jump down into the street below where all of my friends fought for survival against the dark gypsy. The leathery-skinned creature jumped out into the middle of the gap as it descended to its prey. It looked like it was aiming for a fire escape that was hung from the side of the building. Not on my watch.

    I threw myself at it so hard without thinking that I instantly regretted it. I immediately saw where I was headed, and it didn¡¯t look pleasant. I collided with the fiend as it gnashed its mandible full of broken teeth at me in an attempt to defend itself. When we met, I plunged the knife into the beast¡¯s heart with merciless precision. But, our trajectories were different after we collided. I knocked it off course as I rocketed by its nasty body.

    This ugly motherfucker came down in between the hunters and the monsters fighting Peter, separating the two companies in abrupt carnage. It was like a bomb went off. The beast splattered across the ground with a wet and snapping thud. Its bones shattered from the sudden stop of the significant plummet, the blood spraying out in all directions like a bursting water balloon. I, however, hit the opposite building like a meteor, breaking through brick and entering the structure. The impact of the fall on my hardened skull sent my brain on vacation. My vision and hearing were gone for a moment. My head felt like it was going to explode. I laid still for a moment, trying to maintain my composure after cratering the solid wall with my dense mass. I was made of much tougher stuff than the creature I splattered, and I knew I¡¯d be fine. After a moment, my body regained its movement and control. I looked up from the rubble of the third story where I ended up, seeing a beaten and bloody Peter looking straight at me with a grin. He knew it was me¡­ he was looking straight up to the building at me. But, I felt myself being pinned to the ground by an unseen force. Did he expect me to show up? Did he let me wake up? How was this happening?

    Then, I focused and realized that the blade in my hand was¡­ immobilizing me. It was the power from¡­ him. He was keeping me in place. Keeping me from doing anything else. This was his lesson¡­

    The impact of the drop snapped everyone''s attention to their surroundings, watching and waiting for what came next.

    A door on the side of the building exploded from its frame. The metal slab ricocheted into the bricks on the other side of the street. More of those sickly four-legged monsters poured out from the ground level of the building. They had to have come from the caves. There must have been another hole that connected this building to the dark cavernous tunnels that stretched across the city like a massive ant colony. These beasts had to have come from below since I had never seen or heard of them before. They were hidden in the darkness of the damp earth, where the most monstrous of the supernatural hid from the civilized world.

    Jane and Martin looked like they had Peter under control, basically kicking him while he was down to keep him there. At the first moment of these new creatures'' arrival, Alex moved to them so fast that none of the hunters probably saw her. She moved in an instant to fight off this pack of five big-jawed devils.

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    I heard you coming!¡± She mocked the disgusting animals. She was ready for the fight.

    All I could do was stay there, pinned to the floor of the building, watching what I could still see, and listening to what I could not. I don¡¯t think any of them knew I was there. They must have thought I was another creature that fell from the roof like the one they saw explode.

    The hunters never moved. They all stayed behind their cover, firing their silenced rounds into the alley between the bodies of their supernatural friends when they had the chance. I saw a glimpse of blonde hair sitting completely still behind the concrete barricade. Kayla was there in person, but her mind was somewhere else. She looked defeated. I didn¡¯t need to think about it any longer. I knew what she was thinking. Her father was gone¡­ and she didn¡¯t know what to do.

    ¡°None of them touch the hunters!¡± Martin ordered Alex with his bloodred eyes glowing. He was destroying Peter, taking turns with Jane as they beat him mercilessly.

    ¡°Obviously,¡± Alex scoffed.

    Then, Alex ripped into the pack with no second thoughts. Alex moved faster than Martin could, appearing and disappearing between the four-legged threats as she slaughtered them all. She was quick and explosive, going for fatal blows with every attack. I was fast myself, but I had a slower acceleration than this red-haired monster did. She flung the beasts into walls and ripped their flesh open to spill the innards and blood to the pavement below.

    The hunters fired more silenced rounds into the beasts as they left our grasps, never letting them catch a break from the pain and torture of the multifaceted assault. None of them ever had a chance.

    Peter, however, kept getting up. He looked defeated every time Jane or Martin would overshadow his power and make his face taste concrete. Yet, he always returned to smile through his teeth as he rose to his feet.

    ¡°This is senseless,¡± Peter laughed through the blood and spit from his mouth. ¡°You cannot kill me!¡± His laughs were maniacal and confident. ¡°You may have me beat now, but I will come back stronger. No matter how long it takes, I will become strong enough to claim you all!¡±

    Footsteps were approaching behind Martin and Jane as they decimated the continuously healing evil in front of them. Alex had her hands on the jaws of her last beast, ripping its mouth open as wide as its anatomy allowed, then ripping past its limits. She tore its head in half as she broke through its internal structures. The sickly monstrosity fell limp with a dying squeal as its mouth and throat were torn apart like thin cloth.

    I looked back to the feet, worried a hunter was getting too far from cover. The face I saw was unexpected. Shelta walked straight into the fray like she was untouchable. Her short dark hair hung at her shoulders, framing her enraged face in a portrait of anger¡­ and revenge.

    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± Shelta spoke slowly, barely able to get the words out through the rage. Her speech to Peter was hard to describe given the situation, but I think she was in shock.

    ¡°Come now¡­ let¡¯s just end this so I can come back,¡± Peter coughed from the ground as Jane kicked in his ribs. ¡°Oh, Annabelle¡­¡± Peter teased like he was looking for a hiding child playing hide and seek, ¡°Just come out, and we can end all this. I will take you before I leave your family alone.¡± Peter''s words were heinous and unfaltering¡­ but they seemed true.

    ¡°Move!¡± Shelta ordered Jane and Martin as she stepped up to the dark gypsy.

    Jane and Martin let her through as Peter slumped on his knees, leaving himself wide open for the oncoming attack. He wasn¡¯t afraid. He knew she was going to kill him¡­ but he welcomed it.

    ¡°Can you kill me, Shelta?¡± Peter mocked her.

    Shelta lifted her hands in front of her, focusing solely on Peter. She closed her eyes, and I started to feel more of the intense vibrations in the air like I had on the roofs. Her palms started shaking, not physically, but it was like the air around them was vibrating. Peter began to go into a state that looked like he was having a seizure, rolling around on the ground as he gasped to breathe.

    She looked over at Bartley¡¯s body for a moment, ¡°I have to.¡± Her brother lay only feet behind her, motionless and cold. She had to be destroyed inside.

    I looked around, hoping I¡¯d see Jon standing somewhere in the shadows ready to tell me the secret of killing this unkillable gypsy, to let me go from this hold that the blade had on me. But he wasn¡¯t there. He wasn''t anywhere that I could see, but I didn¡¯t need to see him, I would have felt him long before I made eye contact. ¡°What do I do?¡± I asked Jon out loud, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear me. ¡°I can¡¯t do anything¡­ what am I supposed to do?¡± I begged the powerful being for help. There was no answer¡­ and it filled me with more rage as I flexed and strained against the dark power that was binding me.

    Shelta seemed to be going through many things in her mind, that much was apparent.

    Shelta twisted her hands with an angry expression, pulling from a more profound power within. Peter sat up as Shelta¡¯s attack changed. His evil eyes widened at the feeling that was growing inside of him. He didn¡¯t understand it initially, no one really did, but it only took a few seconds to fully develop into what it was.

    The vibration lightened in the air but was replaced by a high-pitched sound that was similar to a dog whistle. I wasn¡¯t sure if others could hear it or not.

    Peter¡¯s skin started smoking, pumping out fumes into the alley that could only be compared to burning hair, only stronger. His eyes were the first to go as the flames shot out of his skull, turning his organic material to ashes. His skin slowly bubbled and fell loose as the heat liquefied him from within. His skin started falling off of his frame in soggy clumps with blood and meat dripping from him as the event continued. His screams were sharp and bloodcurdling, but thankfully they ended quickly. I worried that someone too close to the location would hear him or any of the chaos that had already taken place. Surely the cops would be coming to check on the horrific noises that escaped the dark and isolated strip between buildings. Maybe the WIcklows had done something to the area to silence everything.

    The moment I saw bone was when his body erupted into flames, shooting heat, and fire directly into the sky above. It only took about a minute, but all that was left of Peter was a pile of slop and goo that still boiled from the remnant heat. His bones looked like they were sinking in the substance but were actually melting away. His body was no more. If this didn¡¯t kill him, and he somehow found a way back, I didn¡¯t know what the fuck we would do. How could I kill someone beyond what just happened? I needed Jon to tell me what to do.

    I had a quick realization about just how strong the Wicklow family could be. Shelta was their most potent in terms of raw power. What could they do when that raw power was trained and experienced from an older age? It was mind-boggling what they could accomplish. It reminded me of the thing from the storm that I encountered outside of the city¡­ pure power.

    After a few silent moments, they all slowly made their way to each other. No one said anything; they all just stayed silent as the family gathered Zeke and Bartley''s bodies. I knew they had to get them out of there before anyone else arrived, cops or otherwise. Carter had to get them home to figure out what to do. I wasn¡¯t sure what the appropriate course of action was in the hunter world when a family member died through supernatural means. It wasn¡¯t like you could just file a police report, and everything would be hunky-dory. For everything to be legitimate in the real world, the authorities would have to be notified, the police would want a report, notifications would have to be made, and paperwork would have to be filled out. In the heat of the moment, I¡¯m pretty sure I was the only one thinking of these things. Everyone else was in mourning.

    Then, at that moment, I was released. The blade stopped emitting the restrictive power and let me go. The moment I felt released, the blade vanished from my grasp. IT was gone. Locked away in its otherworldly home where it rested¡­ until I called for it again.  But, after what just happened¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure when I would.

    I wasn¡¯t being pinned down anymore, but I didn¡¯t get up. I didn¡¯t know what I could do for them. There they all were, in another crisis and I was nowhere to be seen. If I had made it sooner¡­ I could have stopped all of this¡­ right? Jon said we were on a path¡­ and that people would die. As I lay there, in silence, I was happy it was Bartley and Zeke. I didn¡¯t want to admit it out loud¡­ but I was so thankful that it wasn¡¯t Autumn¡­ Eleanor, Carter¡­ all of them. I could hear Frank and Jane speaking quietly as they cleaned up and cleared out of the area. It was so good to hear them talking, still alive. I couldn¡¯t show myself to them¡­ I was too ashamed that I didn¡¯t do anything to help¡­ and even more ashamed that I didn¡¯t necessarily feel bad about Zeke or Bartley. I actually felt relief. What did that make me? I just hoped that, whatever Jon referred to, it was over. No one else would die¡­ Yet, I felt something inside me that feared it wasn''t over.

    Frank was a saint, breaking away from the pack to retrieve Patrick and his vehicle. He was near, but not directly in the fighting. I''m not sure what they were doing, but it seemed like part of their plan. I also wasn¡¯t sure what he knew had happened. I didn¡¯t hear Frank tell the youngest Wicklow what exactly had happened as I continued to lay in silence like a corpse. Annabelle met them and took Patrick someplace else. Annabelle had been like a wraith, present but untouchable during the entire event. After seeing her son taken the way he was, she knew she had to protect her grandson from seeing the site down in that alley. Frank returned with the Chasse''s black SUV. The family collected their dead still silent as humanly possible. Quiet tears streamed down most of the women¡¯s faces, while all the men had hardened looks fixed across their eyes to keep the emotions at bay. They couldn¡¯t break, not yet; when they found a moment alone, I knew they would.

    I peeked out from the cracked debris to Autumn, who was keeping Kayla in a tight embrace. The blonde Chasse was shaking her shoulders through hard, emotional tears of pain. I couldn¡¯t¡¯ t see Kayla¡¯s face, but I could see Autumn¡¯s. She had a fog of sadness over her, with her brow furrowed into a struggle to maintain her composure. Her dark eyes screamed out in silence, but she had to be there for her family. She couldn¡¯t break down. She looked like she wanted to say something to her cousin, but she couldn¡¯t speak the words. She didn¡¯t want to break the silence they all shared in the alley.

    If Autumn knew I was there¡­ I knew what she¡¯d ask me. I could already hear the words in her mind. Everyone would have the same question. Where were you, Sam? What can you do? Can you bring them back? I couldn¡¯t¡­ and I didn¡¯t want to hear them ask and have to deny them in such a time of grief.

    As they all retrieved their fallen family, crying silently in the darkness of the night, I just stayed there, silently lying on the third floor under crumbled bricks. I was a monster, covered in blood and unable to be a part of what was happening to them. I felt like an outsider again. I looked over to Jane, who nodded silently to Frank with an understanding look. She, too, wanted to go into the gathering family for Frank, yet she was bloodier than I was. We weren¡¯t like the ones we cared for¡­ we were beasts, no matter how much we wanted to be human. There was an undeniable part of all of us monsters there on that street that would never change. Even with our best intentions¡­ we used our bare hands to drag the insides out of things. We had urges, needs, and desires that were not human; and in some ways we could never truly relate to those still living in the world of pure humanity.

    The monsters all stayed clear of the humans, and the hunters had their brief moment before they placed the bodies into the vehicles. They all faded into their cars and dispersed from the carnage-stained area.

    Alex, Martin, and Jane would be the cleanup crew. They¡¯d get all of the bodies to where they needed to go before the civilized world discovered them. It hadn¡¯t been this bad since Eleanor had been ripped from them. Only, this time I couldn¡¯t do anything for them. The entity had ensured that.

    I didn¡¯t even want to face Martin, Jane, or Alex. There would be questions. Things I didn¡¯t want to talk about, not with any of them. I felt further from them all¡­ everyone. My time with the being, and all he shared with me, made me start to feel a new weight to my situation. I started feeling something different than I had ever felt before. Almost¡­ a detachment from this world. A feeling of inescapable certainty, that what I was turned out to be something far more darker and connected with the supernatural world¡­ no the whole world than I thought. I had a lot to learn, but I felt the ramifications of what was coming already.

    So, for the time being, I stayed away. I didn¡¯t even help with the bodies. As Jane and Martin drug bodies around, and Alex stepped inside the building¡­ I slipped away quietly¡­ a ghost in the night.

 Chapter 53 - Graveyard

    Two days passed, and I kept my distance. The Chasses and Wicklows were in the grip of something heavy, something dark. The last time I spoke with any of them was before they left for their family getaway, but that felt distant now, like another life. They were making preparations for their dead while I stayed in the shadows. I could see it in their eyes¡­ death had taken a seat among them, heavy in their silence. A Wicklow and a Chasse, both claimed. Not long before, it had been Bran. He wasn¡¯t exactly a Talbot, but close enough. Death wasn¡¯t just a memory yet, it was still there, hanging in the air, pressing down on everything like a physical weight. You could almost feel it move, stalking the room''s edges, settling deep into the bones of anyone left behind.

    I stayed very close, roaming the woods beside the Chasse house as they made plans for a funeral. Annabelle and Shelta were there most of the time since the night it happened. They planned on having a joint funeral. They talked like they would be buried in the same place, which I thought strange. However, both families seemed to know exactly what they talked about, so I figured I¡¯d just have to wait and see when the time came.

    Kayla was unraveling. She hadn¡¯t left Autumn¡¯s room since they returned that night, clinging to it as if the four walls could somehow shield her from the reality outside. She refused to stay in the guest wing anymore. The memories of her father haunted every corner of that side of the house. Zeke¡¯s heavy footsteps, the sound of his voice, all of it too raw, too unbearable for her to face. Her eyes were always swollen and red, a quiet, steady grief that never seemed to leave her.

    Arthur had taken up residence in the guest wing now, filling the space Zeke had once occupied. But he was different. Arthur had always been a man of few words, his silence usually deliberate and thoughtful. This was something else. His silence now felt hollow, like he was sinking into it, using it as a shield to keep the world at bay. From where I watched in the woods, I rarely heard him speak; his voice had become a distant memory, and it was like he¡¯d forgotten how to be among the living.

    Kayla would whisper to Autumn every so often, her voice barely breaking the stillness, but Arthur might as well have been a ghost. He rarely emerged from his room, and when he did, it was only to return with a different book. Sometimes, I could hear the faint sound of pages turning, slow and deliberate, as though reading was the only thing tethering him to the present. The scars on his skin told a story of survival, but the wounds inside were far deeper. He was a hunter who¡¯d lost more than blood. There was an emptiness in him now, a quiet resignation that made me wonder if he was still fighting at all.

    When the Wicklows came over¡­ it was hard to watch, and even harder to listen. My senses allowed me to feel like I was standing within the home, able to witness everything. Sarah, the Wicklow I felt I knew the least, never had clear eyes. The red strain that grew in her gaze was so potent she almost looked like a vampire. Sarah''s bloodshot eyes cried off and on in the arms of Eleanor, Annabelle, and even her own son.

    Patrick stayed strong around everyone, taking on a similar persona to Arthur, but when he got a few moments alone¡­ I felt his pain. He went to the bathroom a few times just to get away from everyone. Once inside, he¡¯d barely crack the lid that kept everything contained. I could hear his faltering breath from out in the woods. He thought he was alone, but my senses put me right there beside him.

    They were all busy as the days went on. Many things had to be done. People needed to be notified in the supernatural world, and the human world. The civilized world, however, contained many more hoops to jump through. Carter seemed to take the lead, however, speaking with three different contacts within the government infrastructure of the known world. It seemed as though there were specific steps they took whenever these dreaded events tore someone from their family. They couldn¡¯t just call the police and say their family members were killed by a gypsy necromancer. They had to let their family members fade from existence without causing a stir within the human world. The thought of it all stressed me out for the two families, but they seemed to have done this many times before¡­ unfortunately.

    On that second evening of lingering in the woods, watching my friends, I was surprised by footsteps that approached quickly. They rushed through the breeze that blew against my back. The strange and powerful scent of my landlord registered in my mind. I turned quickly and saw his familiar face staring at me with a questioning look. Martin approached me under the shade of the trees.

    ¡°Sam, what are you doing here?¡± Martin asked. He seemed surprised at my presence.

    ¡°Waiting,¡± I said slowly, curious as to why he was there. Maybe he just wanted to check on them as well.

    ¡°For Peter to return?¡± Martin asked.

    ¡°Yes and no. I just wanted to be here¡­ if they needed anything.¡±

    Martin cocked his head to the side, ¡°Do they know you¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°No. I didn¡¯t want to intrude,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d call them, but I still don¡¯t have a phone.¡±

    ¡°I can get you a new one, same number and everything. I know a guy,¡± Martin nodded his head, answering a question in his mind. ¡°They haven¡¯t reached out to me until today. Carter asked if I could come by.¡±

    ¡°He did?¡± I questioned.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Martin answered, obviously tiptoeing around my reaction. ¡°I¡¯m not sure why they are all keeping their distance, but I thought it odd that he hadn¡¯t reached out to me sooner.¡±

    ¡°I know they¡¯re hurting. I want them to have what they need. I think right now what they need is space¡­ and time.¡±

    ¡°I believe you are correct,¡± Martin agreed.

    ¡°Did Carter say what he wanted?¡± I asked. ¡°Something to do with the funerals?¡±

    ¡°No, not that. Even with all of the planning they are doing, Carter still wants to look into what kind of creatures those four-legged beasts were. He has found something and wants me to take a look.¡±

    ¡°In a bestiary?¡± I guessed.

    ¡°Yes, in one of Arthurs, I believe.¡±

    I looked back to the guest side of the house, ¡°That must be what he¡¯s doing over there. Arthur¡¯s barely been on my senses since they all made it back. He hasn¡¯t spoken hardly at all.¡±

    Martin nodded sympathetically, ¡°To lose your family like that, so quick and unexpected¡­ I¡¯m sure it would rattle even the strongest of us.¡±

    I nodded in agreement. Then I started thinking about my own family, and then Martin¡¯s.

    ¡°I wish I could have been there¡­¡± I remembered the feeling of being pinned down, forced to watch¡­ to learn a lesson. I like a rat in a trap. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t help myself, or my friends.

    Martin¡¯s form shifted slightly, more questioning. ¡°Where have you been Sam? I haven¡¯t seen or heard from you since that night at Abel¡¯s.¡±

    I sighed. This was it¡­ the beginning of the questions. ¡°I¡¯ve been occupied.¡±

    Martin nodded, unsure what to say next as my words were blunt and unamiable to his prying. I didn¡¯t want to even attempt to explain something I didn¡¯t understand.

    It was fully dark out in the trees, and the gap to the Chasse house was dark enough for Martin to cross.

    ¡°I should get in there,¡± Martin suggested.

    I nodded, ¡°Go ahead. I¡¯ll stay out here and keep a lookout. Peter could come back at any moment, and I want to be close when he does.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sam. I know you care about them all just as much as I do,¡± Martin spoke sincerely. ¡°If you could have helped¡­ I know you would have been the first one there.¡± He tried to smooth over some peace between us.

    I only nodded.

    Then, Martin blurred across the darkened gap to the back door. He knocked only twice before he was greeted by Eleanor. She looked like she had a drink in her hand, trying to take the edge off everything that was going on.

    ¡°Martin,¡± Eleanor greeted the vampire with a hug.

    ¡°Eleanor,¡± he returned, ¡°I am so sorry, my dear.¡±

    Eleanor nodded in sadness, gritting her teeth. She was trying not to cry again.

    ¡°Is he in his study?¡± Martin asked.

    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s waiting for you up there,¡± Eleanor informed.

    They closed the door, and I stopped focusing. I wanted to reach out and see if I could concentrate on Autumn¡¯s voice. I wanted to hear her breathing, her heart beating inside the house. The thoughts of all the loss and being alone made me start to realize just how precious my time with her was. I wanted to be with her while I could. I wanted to create as many memories as I could before that¡¯s all I had left of her. Memories of a brief light in this dark life I¡¯d been cast into. In those dark moments in the woods, apart from my friends, I didn¡¯t care what it meant, or what was right for me to do. I just wanted time with her. I wanted to be with her.

    After maybe an hour, Martin returned out through the back door and crossed the expanse to me. He sped through the dark like a shadow as he returned.

    ¡°Well, did you learn anything?¡± I asked Martin.

    ¡°Yes, I did. Arthur¡¯s side of the family called them ¡°Devourers.¡± Arthur had read of them before and remembered their distinct lower jaw from the writings in his family''s bestiaries. Nothing major to note, though, silver kills them just like everything else; massive brutality is an excellent substitute as well. They haven¡¯t been seen in many years, so they must have come from down deep in the pits,¡± Martin thought aloud. ¡°At any rate, they have been dealt with.¡± Martin looked back to the house for a moment and then had an anxious thought come across his mind. ¡°They¡¯re all swamped, but I think this is the right thing to do. The funerals are tomorrow, and I think they want you there. No one said anything, but it¡¯s pretty hectic inside. Hearing from out here and seeing their faces up close are two different things. I think it would be good if you came tomorrow,¡± Martin suggested.

    ¡°You think so?¡± I asked, unsure.

    ¡°Yes. I think they¡¯ll want you there, even the Wicklows. Why don¡¯t you come with me¡­ I think I have a suit that might fit you. You can''t necessarily go to a funeral in the same coat and hood you always wear, Sam,¡± the old vampire laughed.

    I smirked, looking back to the Chasse house, ¡°You think they¡¯ll be okay?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve got Annabelle and Shelta. If Peter came here¡­ Shelta would destroy him again. Plus, I think that he¡¯s biding time until he can get stronger, somehow. He won¡¯t show himself until he thinks he can take out Shelta¡­ and you.¡±

    Martin¡¯s words soothed me. I agreed with what he said, and I left with him, leaving my family and friends to have some privacy.

    The next day came too slowly. I went back to Martin¡¯s bar behind his massive sliding steel door. I passed by the other patrons who didn¡¯t eye me once. Alex, however, stared at me from the moment I entered the establishment until I moved out of sight behind the kitchen window. I didn¡¯t think she feared for her friend, she was just curious as to why I was there.

    Martin did have a suit for me that he let me keep. It was all black, which I thought fit me perfectly. I hadn¡¯t ever really been a suit guy, but I liked the way I looked. Like some kind of suave shadow of the night. I took my time in the back of Martin¡¯s bar and got myself cleaned up.

    When it came time for the funerals, Martin and I left Alex behind at the bar as we dropped below the sewers. It was daylight, so I had to carry a thick black blanket with me as we made our way across small sections, blocking the sunlight for Martin so he could walk in the light without burning. He had a strangely constructed umbrella with him also. It looked like it was made out of some kind of animal skin. The material was like black leather that expanded and stretched to the little frame of the umbrella when fully opened. In direct sunlight, he would start to smolder even if he rushed through a small expanse of light. The blanket didn¡¯t do a good enough job, so we had to be quick while we were above ground.

    We finally arrived at the graveyard, hidden deep within a shadowy patch of untamed woods, far removed from the rest of the world. The air here felt different, thick and damp with the scent of moss and rich, undisturbed earth. The plot was private, forgotten by most, its boundaries marked by a low, crumbling stone wall that snaked around the graveyard''s uneven shape. The stones were old, weathered by time, with moss creeping between the cracks, giving them an almost ancient look, as if the land itself had slowly begun to reclaim them.

    Above us, towering trees loomed, their thick, gnarled branches spreading out like dark fingers, casting a dense canopy that blanketed the entire area in deep, shifting shadows. The ground beneath my feet was soft, the grass thick and wild, muffling our footsteps as we walked. Scattered across the graveyard were small, humble headstones, their inscriptions worn down and barely legible, while larger tombstones jutted out of the earth like forgotten monuments to the dead. A few statues stood among them, tall and silent, their stone faces hidden beneath layers of creeping vines and ivy.

    The place felt heavy, almost alive with the weight of history, and yet, it had a strange comfort to it. The darkness here wasn¡¯t oppressive but familiar, like the quiet of the deep woods I had walked through recently when Jon called me to the fields. Something was grounding about it; the earth beneath, the ancient trees overhead, and the soft murmur of the wind as it rustled through the leaves. For a moment, I felt connected to it all, as if the shadows and the soil were something I belonged to.

    When Martin and I arrived, the Wicklows and Chasses were already gathered, their figures silhouetted in the dim light, standing in somber clusters around two sets of tombstones. Beneath them, the dark earth had already been disturbed. Two freshly dug graves, waiting like open wounds. The realization sank in quickly. This was their cemetery. A place where the dead of this intertwined family of hunters, gypsies, and werewolves were laid to rest. Even in death, their bonds remained, the bloodlines joined in their final resting place, just as they had been in life.

    Bartley Wicklow and Zeke Chasse, both slain, lay side by side in their pine coffins. The simple wood seemed too humble, too fragile for the weight of the lives they once carried. They rested in the center of the graveyard, about thirty yards from where Martin and I stood. The distance felt immense, like a chasm between the living and the dead that I couldn¡¯t bridge. The air here was thick, and damp with the scent of soil and the unmistakable quiet of mourning. I could hear a low, almost imperceptible grumble in my ears¡­ voices, whispers that seemed to rise from the very ground, as if the dead themselves were speaking through the rustling leaves and the wind that swept through the trees. It was strange. There was a feeling to this place that I couldn¡¯t place.

    Their families were here, connected even in this grief-stricken moment, but I felt like an outsider again, standing at the edge of their sorrow. The weight of it all pressed down on me; the legacy, the death, the inevitable fate of those who walked this path. And yet, despite the gathering of people, the silence was overwhelming, broken only by the occasional sob or murmur of someone too lost in their mourning to notice the rest of us. The sadness of the scene seeped into the earth, into the air, wrapping around me like a heavy, inescapable cloak.

    I saw mascara running with tears, voices cracking and sobbing, and the same hardened look on all the men¡¯s faces. Every person there was clad in dark, mournful clothing. They were still just as hurt as the moment they both fell in that alley. I think now it had just really set in for some of them.

    I saw Arthur standing like one of the grey statues as he looked on his brother. Kayla wept loudly by his side. Autumn was there, supporting her cousins¡¯ weight when her knees wanted to give out from the grief. Autumn¡¯s face ran dark lines of tears and makeup as she too lived in sorrow with her family. I wanted to go to her.

    Patrick, Sarah, and Shelta all stood right next to them all. Bartley¡¯s family was shattered.

    The trees above were so thick that they produced enough cover and shade for Martin to walk freely. He popped open his strange umbrella and laid it across his shoulder just in case a few stray sunbeams found their way through the trees above. I laid the folded blanket down on the edge of the stone border wall as we both entered the graveyard.

    Carter and Eleanor looked up as we entered the space, aware of both our presence at the same time. I secretly feared what they would think when they saw me. Would they be angry¡­ upset, or disappointed that I wasn¡¯t there for them in their dark hour of need? I had vanished from their lives for a chunk of time again, and this had all happened.

    But, to my thankful surprise, I was quickly welcomed by Eleanor''s relieved expression. Carter also looked thankful to see me in such a dark time.

    We walked up to meet them, quickly gaining the attention of the others. Autumn saw me as her parents began to move towards us. She had a strange look on her tearful face. She looked beyond emotional but tried to hold it in. She was straining to maintain what little composure she still had as she tried to be there for Kayla.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    "Sam...," Eleanor walked to me quickly with her arms spread ready to pull me in for a hug. She latched on as soon as she could put her arms around me. "I''m so happy to see you, Sam. I feel like I haven''t seen you in weeks. These last few days¡­ they¡¯ve seemed like they''ve lasted forever,¡± she sighed.

    "I''m sorry, Eleanor. I''m sorry for what happened to Zeke¡­ and Bartley. I wished I would have been there¡­¡± I struggled to find words I thought would help.

    Carter stepped up next, his eyes weighed down with sorrow as he greeted Martin with a somber nod. ¡°This isn¡¯t your fault, Sam,¡± he said, his voice rough, raw from sleepless nights and endless grieving. ¡°Peter Grimwood did this.¡±

    ¡°But I was there,¡± I confessed, guilt gnawing at me. I couldn¡¯t hold it in any longer. ¡°I made it to you all, but¡­ Peter had been doing something to me. He didn¡¯t want me there, so he knocked me out somehow. I was at the old factory...¡± I relived the horror for them, my chest tightening as the memories poured out. ¡°It was like I fell into a deep sleep¡­ like a coma or something. But it felt good like I never wanted to wake up. I slept for days. And in that sleep, I saw things¡­ things that made me want to stay in that dream forever.¡±

    Annabelle, her face pale, haunted by her own pain, hobbled over, her movements slow, every step a battle. ¡°I believe Peter sees Sam as a threat to whatever he¡¯s planning,¡± she added quietly, her voice thick with shared grief. ¡°So much so, that he couldn¡¯t afford Sam being there to stop him. He deterred him long before he came for the rest of us.¡±

    The air between us felt heavier, the weight of loss suffocating, the knowledge that Peter had stolen something from each of them making the pain sharper. We stood there, broken, each of us touched by what Peter had done.

    I stopped my explanation there, however. I didn¡¯t feel it smart to talk about how the being, or the blade it had granted me, held me away. That was going to be too hard to explain in a moment like this.

    Carter placed his fatherly hand on my shoulder, ¡°It¡¯s all right, Sam. We can talk about the details later. But none of this is your fault. I promise you, none of us think that.¡± Carter patted my back as he talked to me.

    Autumn broke away from the pack of tearful mourners and met me beside her parents. She walked right in between both of them and wrapped her arms around my neck. Autumn and Eleanor both had on black dresses that almost matched. Autumn''s hair was done up in a loose bun, and her eyes were tired from crying.

    ¡°How are you doing,¡± I tried to find words to comfort her. I didn¡¯t think it would help, so I just held her tightly as she stayed silent.

    Once she finally broke her silence, she looked up at me. ¡°I''m sorry we haven''t talked yet," Autumn spoke through her stumbling words as the emotion grew thicker in her voice. "I wanted to call¡­ but your phone just goes straight to voicemail¡­¡±

    Oh, shit that¡¯s right, ¡°Yeah it got destroyed.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡± was all she said. ¡°Well, after what Peter did, Annabelle said we had to stay away from you until today. She didn¡¯t want us to even try to call you because she thought it might blur her sight,¡± Autumn explained through brimming tears.

    I looked over to Carter and Eleanor, who nodded in unison.

    "It''s true," Carter said. ¡°She wanted us to maintain a distance from you. I don''t know exactly why, but I think after losing Bartley, she wanted to make sure she could see our futures. She said she could see everything leading up to the funerals today, and then everything blacks out.¡± Carter looked back over to the gypsy elder, who was actively watching us from a distance after returning to her sons grave. "She says that we all walk out of here safely, once the darkness clears from her vision, so she was okay with you coming.¡±

    ¡°You all knew I would show up here?" I asked, confused at the gypsy¡¯s power.

    ¡°Yes, but we wanted you to be with us sooner. Annabelle has her reasons sometimes, and we have to listen to her. Her power has saved us more times than any of us can remember,¡± Eleanor said. ¡°We¡¯ve learned over the years to just listen to her. She usually has a perfect reason for the things she requests.¡±

    Autumn whispered in my ear through the other information, "I missed you.¡±

    ¡°I missed you too," I told her quietly.

    Autumn stepped in close again and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, pulling herself very intimately into me. She did it right in front of the onlooking Wicklows. Even Patrick was watching as she did it, but she didn¡¯t care. At that moment, I don''t think any of them cared. Too much had happened¡­

    ¡°Come, join us. We''re about to start,¡± Eleanor placed her hand on my shoulder as she led me towards the rest of the extended family.

    The coffins almost matched as they sat directly beside one another at the central ceremonial gathering. Everyone was there; all of the Wicklows I knew, the entire Chasse clan, and even a few of the Talbots. Jane had arrived shortly after Martin and me, bringing along a few other members I had only ever seen in passing. Alan and Eloise stood near Carter and Eleanor. Almost everyone had on black with a few darker grey tones. We all stood in a crescent formation as we gazed upon the fallen family members as their bodies lay motionless and pale.

    Before Annabelle stepped up to say a few words, I started to have a moment. I pictured this being my family back home. How many more years did they have left until one of them was lying in a box? Who would it be: Dad, Mom, Seth, my sisters? What if it was Vicky¡­ or Caydee? Anything could happen in this world I lived in. They only had so much time in this world¡­ while I¡­ I¡¯d have lifetimes if what the real Jon told me was true.

    I didn''t hear the words that were spoken at the joint funeral, I just stood as motionless as the corpses. I thought about the loss that was eventually coming my way. The only other thing I could feel in those moments was Autumn¡¯s fingers gripping my arm tightly. I could feel her muscles shaking in her grip, and I could hear the rapid flutter of her heartbeat. I tried to memorize everything about her, committing everything to memory for a day in the future when I didn¡¯t have Autumn anymore. A time would come when I lost all of my family and friends, and I would be alone.

    The rest of the ceremony went by in a hazy blur. I felt lost out in those shady trees surrounded by the loss and grief of my friends. I didn''t feel what they felt, not entirely. I wasn''t close with Zeke, or Bartley, but I could see all their pain. If it would have been Autumn, Eleanor, any of the Chasses I¡¯d grown close to, or my family back home¡­ I¡¯d never be the same again. Just knowing that one day I¡¯d be facing what they felt had me stressed. How many times would I have to feel it?

    When the time came, Arthur, Carter, Frank, and Patrick each took up their shovels, ready to lay their family to rest. They didn¡¯t rely on machines or take any shortcuts. No, they did it by hand, the hard way. It was as though this was a sacred duty they¡¯d carried out before. It was deeply personal. It was a tradition, a ritual of honor passed down through generations, a way to pay their respects when someone was lost to the shadows of this dark life.

    With each shovelful of earth, they worked silently, their faces lined with resolve and sorrow, burying their loved ones with the sweat of their own brows. It was more than just a task for them; it was a final act of love and duty, a burden they bore with pride. I could tell it meant more to them than I could ever understand.

    I glanced over at Martin, my face furrowed with an unspoken question. He caught my eye and gave a slight shake of his head, his expression solemn. We weren¡¯t supposed to help. This wasn¡¯t for us. This was their moment. It was a private, honorable farewell. We were simply to stand aside and watch.

    Once everything was over, and we had buried the two men into the earth, everyone slowly started to disperse. It wasn¡¯t long before I found myself standing in front of Shelta and Annabelle.

    ¡°Thank you for being here, Sam,¡± Annabelle¡¯s old voice choked out. ¡°Bartley would be glad you are here to protect us¡­ in your own way,¡± she added.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have been able to kill Peter if you hadn''t taken care of those devourers on the roof,¡± Shelta spoke. It wasn¡¯t a thank you, she was too distraught at losing her brother, but I knew she meant it.

    ¡°You knew¡­¡± I said quietly, hoping the others wouldn¡¯t hear.

    They both nodded as Annabelle spoke quietly. ¡°We do¡­ and we know that there are other forces at play here. But I don¡¯t see you as a threat to us. You may keep secrets, but they aren¡¯t born from ill will.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I wish I could have done more,¡± I said as I looked over to the two freshly covered plots.

    ¡°Me too,¡± Annabelle spoke sullenly, almost hanging her head.

    "But I know we still have more to do. Peter¡¯s not dead," I said, my voice low as if uttering something forbidden. "He¡¯ll be back. It¡¯s only a matter of time."

    The space between us grew tense. Shelta frowned, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. "How can you be sure? There was nothing left of him. How could anyone come back from that?"

    I hesitated, the words lingering heavy on my tongue. "It¡¯s¡­ complicated," I finally said, my voice unnervingly calm. "Peter can¡¯t die¡­not yet. He¡¯s tied to something powerful, something that¡¯s keeping him alive. He won''t stay dead until his benefactor is dead."

    "Something else?" Eleanor¡¯s voice cut through from behind me, sharp and probing. She and the others had come closer, their expressions darkening with suspicion. ¡°Something like¡­ the thing from that other place.¡±

    I took a breath, bracing myself. "Not him¡­ but something like him¡­ I think. I was told I¡¯d be shown how to kill it when the time comes."

    A cold silence settled between everyone now that they had all circled me. I felt¡­ agitated.

    "Who is it¡­ what is it?" Eleanor''s voice trembled slightly, though she masked it well.

    I turned toward her, unable to meet her gaze as I soothed the beast inside. It was gripping the bars of its cage, barring its teeth at them, from within my mind, for daring to ask us questions.

    I exhaled the word like a curse. "He said that when the time came, he¡¯d show me what needed to be done. This other thing¡­ it''s ancient. It''s hidden somewhere, and it is feeding Peter his power. Everything he has done, even his selfish desires to get back at your families, ultimately serves this thing in a way."

    Wayland chimed in, ¡°Is it one of the elders, from the pits? We¡¯ve never seen one, only heard stories. It could explain why these things keep coming from below.¡±

    Martin stepped up, standing darkly beneath his leathery umbrella. His face was cool and sure of what he was about to say. ¡°No. The elders down there are numerous but don¡¯t have the kind of power it would take to bring someone back like Peter. No, they are the eldest of their respective races. Unbelievably strong in their bloodlines, some taking on shapes and forms beyond inhuman. Things of nightmares! However, I do not believe our threat lies down there. I have been speaking with Charles more often these days. He assures me that his status is still intact down there, and he has full access to that world. He has been digging, and Peter is on their radar, but no one is backing him. If it is something beyond the Elders¡­ I fear what that could be.¡± Hearing Martin with a spark of fear in his voice did something to everyone. It was subtle, but an uptick of dread came across everyone.

    ¡°Charles goes down there often?¡± I asked, intrigued. I started noting things in my mind to talk with him about the next time I saw him. If I were to take Abel¡¯s advice, I¡¯d need a way down one day.

    ¡°Yes, he must if he is to maintain his ruse,¡± Martin added.

    I nodded and then continued. "I haven¡¯t heard anything¡­ since," I added, casting a glance toward Shelta. "Not since that night, when you burned him. There was no sign¡­ no words¡­ nothing. Whatever I¡¯m supposed to do, it hasn¡¯t happened yet."

    "Then we¡¯ll kill him again!" Eleanor stated. ¡°As many times it takes until it sticks.¡±

    The silence that followed felt like the calm before a storm, the others staring at me, their faces twisted with questions they didn¡¯t dare voice. There was an obvious tone between us all that they knew I was actively withholding information from them. They didn¡¯t ask¡­ not yet at least.

    "Well, it seems we all need to prepare ourselves then,¡± Annabelle said.

    ¡°Prepare¡­ how?¡± Shelta asked through her drying tears.

    Annabelle answered smoothly, "I believe I have a plan. It''s a way to tip the balance in our favor; in your favor, Shelta.¡±

    "What are you talking about, Annabelle?" Carter¡¯s strong form asked the older crooked lady. He seemed oddly worried about what she spoke of.

    They all knew that if Annabelle had a plan, then it was in their best interests to go along with it. Even with all of their strength, none of them could match Annabelle¡¯s ability to direct the flow of their battles.

    "All in due time, Carter. For now, I suggest we all return home and get what little rest we can,¡± the elder Wicklow put on a weathered smile. She seemed like she was trying to stop the questions for the moment and send them away. I was thankful.

    Everyone trusted her, so they nodded in agreement and prepared to leave. But I could feel eyes on me that held more questions. Specifically, who are you going to kill? How is Peter coming back, and what is he tied to?

    ¡°Sam,¡± Annabelle¡¯s voice grabbed my attention. ¡°May I have a word?¡±

    Her request shocked me. I looked back to Autumn, who again clutched my arm tightly like, as soon as she let go, I¡¯d disappear.

    ¡°Only Sam,¡± Annabelle easily let them down. ¡°It¡¯s best if we have this moment alone, so things will work out as I have seen.¡±

    Eleanor placed her hand on Autumn¡¯s shoulder, ¡°It will be okay, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°Will you come by the house later?¡± Autumn asked as she loosened her grip on my hand.

    I nodded to her, ¡°I¡¯ll be there.¡±

    Autumn let go and turned her teary face from me. Her makeup was running just like her mother¡¯s as they both followed Carter back to their vehicles. Martin stood near their Suburban like he was waiting to talk to Carter.

    ¡°Walk with me, Sam¡± Annabelle eased slowly across the grass towards some older graves in the Wicklow¡¯s section of the massive graveyard.

    Shelta eyed us intently as she waited beside her brother''s grave. She let her mother continue with her plan, even though she wasn¡¯t in the loop yet. It looked like it was worrying her.

    I followed her willingly. I still didn¡¯t fully understand what all the Wicklows could do. It didn¡¯t make sense in my mind how Shelta was able to melt Peter that night in the street. I didn¡¯t understand Annabelle¡¯s ability to look into everyone¡¯s futures. Yet, I strangely trusted her. I wanted to hear what she was thinking. Shit, it might be something similar to the way Jon spoke about setting a path¡­

    ¡°We have a lot of family here,¡± Annabelle said as we came to a stop outside of some older-looking headstones. ¡°A lot of my loved ones are laid to rest here. All of my family I knew before I had children of my own. My husband,¡± Annabelle eyed a much older stone.

    I looked up at the ruby-colored concrete to the name that was carved into the slab. It read Michael Wicklow.

    ¡°I know you two are celebrating right now,¡± Annabelle spoke to the headstone. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you so much, darling. I thought I¡¯d be coming first¡­ never our son.¡± Tears poured from her eyes through the crow¡¯s feet at the corners. ¡°I¡¯ll see you both again¡­ soon.¡±

    Annabelle pulled a cloth handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes gently.

    ¡°I know that there are no words I can say¡­¡± I started.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry yourself on it one bit, my boy. Life is life, and with it comes death. I only¡­ never planned to outlive any of my children. I lost my Michael almost twenty years ago this December. He was a darling man,¡± she thought back to him.

    ¡°Michael Wicklow?¡± I asked. ¡°If he was a Wicklow, did you come from another gypsy family?¡±

    Annabelle smiled, ¡°No. I am a Wicklow, Michael¡¯s last name was Peterson.¡±

    I tilted my head in confusion.

    Annabelle laughed lightly, ¡°Michael took my last name. Once he knew what I was, and what my family did, he wanted to help me¡­ us, in any way he could. It was unheard of in the times we lived in, but Michael loved me and didn¡¯t care what anyone else thought about it. He was proud to be a part of the Wicklow family. He trained with Carter¡¯s father for a time in our younger years. He didn¡¯t have our gypsy blood, but he wanted to help in our efforts against the darkness of the world.¡±

    ¡°How did he die?¡± I asked after a brief pause, looking at his aging stone.

    ¡°It was on a hunt,¡± Annabelle nodded. ¡°I saw him come out of it safe and unharmed¡­ but then, things changed. It happened too quickly for me to warn them¡­ too soon to make adjustments.¡± She relived it as she spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I felt like an asshole for asking the question.

    ¡°I got to see him one last time after it happened. He lived long enough for them to bring him back home. We spoke before he passed, and he was happy. He knew it was his time, and he was ready. He died protecting his family¡­ he was never scared of anything as long as he was fighting for all of us.¡±

    Annabelle looked like she was working things out in her head as she spoke to me in the quiet cemetery. She was calm on the outside, but I could see her eyes racing as she looked into futures at various stages of each life she monitored.

    ¡°What is it you see?¡± I asked.

    The old woman took in a slow, deep breath as she calmed her mind¡¯s eye.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be here much longer. I¡¯ve seen how it happens,¡± Annabelle admitted. Before I could speak and let her know we wouldn¡¯t let it happen, she lifted up her hand to stop me, ¡°This is my time, Sam. I¡¯ve seen it. It doesn¡¯t matter if you stop the way I¡¯ve seen, it will just come around for me in a different way. I am going to die. There is no escaping it¡­ and honestly, I don¡¯t want to. I have more family on the other side than I have left. My time here is coming to a close.¡±

    ¡°What about Shelta?¡± I looked over slowly as I saw her sobbing on the top of her brother''s grave. I whispered the words so she wouldn¡¯t hear. ¡°What about Patrick and Sarah? They¡¯ll be the only ones left.¡±

    ¡°They will be okay. I¡¯ve seen our family¡¯s future, and they will thrive again as we have before,¡± Annabelle seemed almost proud as she started tearing up again. This time it was tears of joy. ¡°I¡¯ve seen Patrick and Shelta find happiness with others that lead to a rebirth of our family. We¡¯ve lost much in the last generation or so, but they¡¯ll grow us into something powerful again. The gypsy blood will continue on after I am gone.¡±

    Her fearlessness in the face of what she had seen surprised me. I honestly didn¡¯t know what to say to all that. It was strange.

    ¡°So, what do you want from me? Why did you want to talk to me alone?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the way it happens. I transfer my power to Shelta,¡± she looked over to her daughter, who was still sobbing. ¡°When Peter comes back, he is far stronger than before. Shelta¡¯s power alone won¡¯t be enough to stop him. I give all of my power to my daughter, and then I pass on. However, her power isn¡¯t what will keep him down,¡± Annabelle said.

    ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± I knew what she was going to say.

    ¡°Yes, Sam. Shelta¡¯s power has to be strong enough so she can contain Peter until you come for him. There is no other way¡­ I have to put my power into her so she can help you end all of this,¡± she was sure. ¡°Peter has ways of moving that are¡­ unexplainable. He¡¯s in and out of my vision constantly. It¡¯s like one minute he¡¯ll exist and another he¡¯s gone from our world. I didn¡¯t recognize that at first, that¡¯s why he was able to hurt us as he did, but I know his patterns now. Shelta will slow him when he returns. She¡¯ll lock him down in place for you. When you take him from there¡­ he never returns¡­¡±

    I had questions, but I just nodded. Annabelle probably saw countless ways she decided to go against Peter, all of them failing, except sacrificing herself to save her family and friends.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you¡­ Sam. I¡¯ve seen you in my visions, unlike before. It is only for a moment, and it is right as I die, but you aren¡¯t blocking out my sight like normal. You¡¯re hard to see, but you are there in some way that allows me to glimpse you. For only a moment, I feel you in my mind, and I feel what is with you,¡± she spoke ominously.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I was almost afraid to ask.

    ¡°You really have no idea what you are, or who the other person is?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No¡­¡± was all I could say at first. ¡°He told me that I had to figure that out on my own. He said that if I learned it too early, that I wouldn¡¯t be able to handle it¡­ that it had to be this way.¡±

    She nodded, staring off into the shadows of the trees that surrounded us. ¡°I suppose that is probably best. When I felt the presence of that other¡­ thing, it scared me, Sam. I¡¯ve lived a long life filled with all kinds of creatures that you probably haven¡¯t even learned of yet, but nothing compares to what I felt in that vision where I saw you. If you are tied in with something like that, Sam¡­ I fear that you will have a very hard life, my boy,¡± Annabelle apologized. She seemed like she felt sorry for me, and whatever she felt about my future. She tried to get herself back on track, ¡°So when it happens, and I have to give my power to Shelta, I need you to be there. That¡¯s the way I¡¯ve seen it, and it has to play out like that. Nobody else can know. I can¡¯t even tell my own family yet, as they will most assuredly try and convince me otherwise. However, I needed to tell you so that way you¡¯ll be with me on that day.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be there. When¡¯s it going to happen?¡± I didn¡¯t know what to feel as I agreed to it. She was going to kill herself, and no one else knew. What would they think when they found out I knew and didn¡¯t tell them?

    ¡°We have one week until Peter returns. I¡¯ll transfer my power to Shelta the night before, and you all will prepare for his arrival,¡± Annabelle was dead set. She knew exactly what we were going to do.

    I nodded. ¡°Okay. If you think this is the only way¡­ then I trust you. I¡¯ll be there, and I¡¯ll do as you say.¡± I knew all too well what happened when people tried to escape their fates and live beyond their natural lives. I¡¯d come for them. I probably should have argued with her¡­ but I knew things that made me keep in line with her plan. I was on a path that had been set. The only way I would attempt to change anyone''s ¡°fate¡± would be if my entity came and told me otherwise.

    She smiled and pulled me down into her older crooked frame, ¡°Thank you, my boy. You will help protect our families when I am gone, and you¡¯ll do it in a way that no one else can. For that, Sam, you will always have my gratitude and my sympathies.¡±

    Annabelle and I parted ways after we finished speaking at her husband¡¯s grave. All of the Chasses had left, knowing I¡¯d return to their house later in the evening. Unfortunately, I was hesitant to go to them now. I had a secret to keep from them again. Annabelle said that they couldn¡¯t know until it was happening. That¡¯s how it had to be; I just hoped that they¡¯d see it that way.

 Chapter 54 - Powerful Connections

    My elbows pressed into the hard workbench down in the basement of the Chasse house. I was cleaning weapons for them, preparing for the imminent battle. They didn¡¯t know when it would come, where it would be, but I did¡­ somewhat. Annabelle had told me that we had a week from the moment she informed me in the graveyard. I wanted to tell them so badly, but I worried that if I did, I would mess up something in the flow of choices that Annabelle had seen play out, effectively changing the path we were on. Every decision I made since then scared the shit out of me. I couldn''t lose any of them.

    I also had the entity to think about. He, it, Jon¡­ whatever¡­ told me we were also on a path, and that I didn¡¯t get to save everyone. I felt like I was tiptoeing between the two different predicted futures. Maybe they were on the same path or intertwined at a certain point or something. I thought that, maybe if I just carried on with Annabelle¡¯s plan, there would be less collateral damage. She would have the family¡¯s best interests at heart, whereas the entity would not. It cared more about some kind of balance of power in the world¡­ or something. So, I chose the only thing I could make sense of in my small human brain. I wasn¡¯t an entity that could walk between worlds, neither was I a gypsy that could look into the future and see shit. I wasn¡¯t a fine-tuned tool like that. I was a hammer, a blunt instrument made for one thing; to beat the shit out of something, and fuck shit up. So, I relied on Annabelle''s greater knowledge, skill, and foresight.

    As I cleaned multiple weapons, Autumn and Eleanor were training against each other on the wrestling mats. They both had on padded gloves and headgear as they fought hand-to-hand in the training areas beneath the house. Frank and Carter were lifting weights in the corner, clanging and banging plates around as they strengthened their bodies. Alan and Eloise had made it over with Jane. The two young werewolves were at the sound-proof range below the house, shooting a variety of weapons. Allan was teaching Eloise how to shoot like he had been taught as he grew up. She seemed to catch on fast; her enhanced senses allowing her to focus and move beyond the means of mortal men and women.

    Everyone was training and planning, but I was just waiting. I sat at the lone workbench as I cleaned and oiled weapon after weapon. I was like a shadow in the lower-lit region of the basement armory, a ghost that existed just out of touch with everyone else. Their efforts and concerns were grounded more in the physical human world. Mine were¡­ tied in with something else.

    I wondered when would I get the call to meet Annabelle. I was nervous for the moment that we lost our fortune teller, and the family wouldn¡¯t be able to see the danger coming before they stumbled upon it. I hoped that Shelta would step into that role and be able to keep them safe like Annabelle had. It seemed that was primarily a job that was done mostly by Annabelle exclusively, to my knowledge at least.

    Frank joked with me from time to time as everyone else trained, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°You want to hit these weights, Sam? You could probably use it,¡± Frank laughed. Frank amused himself down there, trying not to think about all the loss for a while.

    I just smirked, continuing to clean and prepare weapons.

    After the evening had passed, and everyone was leaving, Autumn and I finished the night with a couple of drinks in the kitchen. She was drinking her mother''s red wine while I mixed in the yellow dust from Martin¡¯s.

    I was taking in every aspect of her; the brown hair so dark that it bordered on black, her lean build, and her beautiful face that looked on me with care. She was dressed in her workout leggings and a loose-fitting shirt. She was still damp with sweat from the intensive training they had been doing. I wanted her to be able to stay with me forever. I didn¡¯t want to outlive her one day. I wished she could stay with me through my time as the monster. But¡­ she was only human¡­ and I was not.

    ¡°Should we be worried?¡± Autumn asked hesitantly through the sips of her wine. I could tell she wanted to ask me something since the moment at the graveyard, but she knew not to pry if Annabelle hadn¡¯t told her something. If Annabelle kept secrets, it was for a reason.

    I shook my head, ¡°No. I know what¡¯s going to happen.¡±

    She took a deep breath, calmed by my answer.

    ¡°I trust you, Sam,¡± Autumn spoke sincerely as she stared at the wall. ¡°I just worry about what Peter can do, and if he still blocking Annabelle¡¯s vision somehow.¡±

    ¡°Annabelle told me she can see Peter better now, but that¡¯s not what I am relying on,¡± I told her bluntly.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Autumn asked as she took another drink to calm her mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you guys again¡­ not till¡¯ this is over. If he comes around, whether it''s time or not, I¡¯ll fucking end him before he does anything. I¡¯ll kill him and buy us more time until the right time appears.¡± I took a breath, trying to find the words for something else that I had been feeling. ¡°There¡¯s something else¡­ it¡¯s hard for me to explain. I¡¯ve been feeling it ever since the funerals. It¡¯s like I can feel something coming¡­ something big. Now that I know he¡¯s the one behind everything, the agitation, keeping me away from you all, whatever else he¡¯s been doing¡­ I feel it all starting to fade.¡± I nodded to myself, agreeing with the words I spoke, ensuring it was the best way to describe what I was feeling. ¡°He told me that my power keeps growing, and Peter¡¯s won''t be able to keep up.¡±

    Autumn looked concerned for me. I wondered if she was afraid that the longer she knew me, the more she¡¯d see me turning into the monster that hid below. Knowing Autumn, she wasn¡¯t thinking anything of that sort, but I always went to darker places than she did.

    ¡°When I see him again, I¡¯m going to kill him. I¡¯m going to transform¡­ let it out and tear him in half. I won''t give him a chance to hurt anyone else I care about!¡± I said the words powerfully, more to myself as I feared what could happen to this girl I had grown so attached to. I would use every tool, and every strength at my disposal to keep her safe from harm.

    Autumn didn¡¯t doubt me or ask specifics about some of the things I said in that kitchen. She believed every word I spoke to her in the kitchen, and I could see that the dark entity that resided behind my eyes still scared her more than she¡¯d ever tell.

    Autumn looked around cautiously before speaking, ¡°I think now is the time, Sam.¡±

    I looked up, puzzled, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°That talk¡­,¡± she nodded towards the back patio.

    I felt my heart beat harder for a few beats, and then it slowed. One of the few times in this second life, I was nervous. I wanted this, but now that it was here, the seriousness it could bring¡­ I felt like a scared human again.

    I nodded slowly, my voice steady as I said, "Okay."

    I followed closely behind Autumn as she slipped out the back door. The cool night air brushed against my skin, heightening my already sharpened senses. The soft creak of the door shutting behind us seemed louder, more distinct. Each subtle noise around us was magnified; the rustle of fabric as she moved, the faint scrape of her shoes against the worn floor. Her scent hung in the air, crisp and familiar, with a trace of something comforting, like the warmth of a memory I didn¡¯t want to let go of.

    We stepped out onto the darkened patio, the night swallowing us in its quiet embrace. My ears picked up the smallest sounds: the distant chirp of crickets, the soft hum of the house behind us, and the steady rhythm of her breathing, shallow but deliberate. Autumn reached up and flipped a small switch, and the awning above us flickered to life. The soft glow illuminated her face, casting delicate shadows that danced across her features. It caught the edge of her hair, lighting it up like a halo, and in that moment, she looked almost ethereal, as if the world around her had dimmed, leaving only her in focus.

    I moved to sit beside her, my every movement deliberate, almost painfully aware of her proximity. I angled my chair so that I could face her, eyes locking on her. This was it¡­ the moment that would determine the future of whatever this was. My heart hammered in my chest, not with fear, but with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. Her presence was all-encompassing; it filled the space around me, wrapping itself around my heightened senses. The scent of her skin, soft and clean, mixed with the cool night air, grounding me in a way that felt almost too intense. It was as if I could feel the weight of her thoughts before she even spoke, the hesitation in her posture, the slight tremor in her breath.

    "I''ve thought a lot about what I needed to say to you," she began, her voice steady but low, carrying the weight of unsaid things. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slowly, the sound of it clear in my ears. "Honestly, I''ve been too scared to say it to you."

    "Before you say anything," I cut in gently, my voice soft but firm, "let me tell you something first." I leaned forward slightly, feeling the energy between us shift, growing heavier with the unspoken emotions we both carried. "I told this to your parents when they found me at the safe house. I told them this, and I meant it." I paused, taking a moment to soak in the way she made me feel, how just being near her seemed to sharpen every sense I had. Her warmth, her scent, and the quiet strength she exuded were something I needed to remember, in case this was the last time I¡¯d be this close to her.

    "I don¡¯t know for sure what I am, or what the entity is," I continued, my voice low and honest. "And I don¡¯t know what all I might have to do one day. But I do know this: I want to be with you and with your family. I¡¯ll stay as long as you want me around. But if you, or Carter, or Eleanor ever want me gone¡­ if it gets to be too much¡­ I¡¯ll leave. No questions asked." The words hung between us, heavy with meaning. "I¡¯ll disappear from your lives if that¡¯s what you want."

    As I said it, I watched her reaction closely, every shift in her expression, every subtle change in her body language amplified in my mind. Her breath caught for a moment, her eyes searching mine. The space between us seemed to hum with unspoken tension like the world was holding its breath, waiting for her next move.

    She nodded, not expecting that from me. I think I threw off the momentum she built to get herself ready.

    ¡°Um... okay.¡± Autumn nodded as she gathered herself once again. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t want you to leave. I want you here with us. I was going through a lot after you left, trying to figure out what I still felt for you and what it meant. I was scared of what I felt before, knowing you are¡­ what you are, but¡­¡± she looked down as she spoke. ¡°I don¡¯t care anymore. After Uncle Zeke¡­ and Bartley¡­ that could be me tomorrow. That could be any of us¡­ even you. That thing could give you a vision and send you off again. I might wake up tomorrow and you¡¯d be gone, forever.¡±

    I could tell she was spilling her guts even though she wasn¡¯t sure that everyone else would be on board. At that moment, she didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t know what will happen in the future, but I¡¯m not going to make myself miss out on the things here today¡­¡±

    Autumn tilted her wine up and finished the rest, set her glass down on the patio table, and then stood up. She stepped over to my chair and sat with me, on my right leg. I leaned back to give her room there with me. She leaned against my chest and buried her face into my shoulder. For a second I thought she was smelling me, but she was just breathing slowly, taking it all in.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what this thing is inside of you, but I feel like I know you,¡± Autumn said to me quietly. ¡°It does scare me, I¡¯ll be honest, but I know you wouldn¡¯t ever do anything to willingly hurt me, or my family. You won¡¯t hurt us¡­ I know you won¡¯t!¡± she said it like it was a fact. ¡°And honestly, I think we¡¯ve all gone pretty numb to you. We know you have some scary, unexplained stuff, but just being around you has¡­¡± she searched for the right words. ¡°Acclimatized us to it partly. Not to say that¡¯s the best thing,¡± she laughed a little, before falling silent for a moment.

    She inched her face toward mine, painfully slow, her eyes searching mine as if she were trying to unravel something buried deep inside. When her lips finally met mine, it was hesitant, like she was testing the waters of something long forgotten. Her kiss wasn¡¯t rushed; it lingered like she was trying to remember what this was like before everything got so complicated.

    But slowly, that hesitation melted away. Her hands moved to my neck, her fingers trembling slightly before they tightened, gripping me like I was her only lifeline. She squeezed my arms next, pulling herself closer, her body pressing against mine in a way that felt desperate as if she had been holding this back for too long and couldn¡¯t stand the distance anymore. I could feel the hunger in the way she clung to me, the way her kiss deepened with each second, her breath quickening, her heart racing against my chest.

    The monster grinned inside his cage, urging me forward to indulge. It wanted me to live a little and to stop worrying about everything for once. It didn¡¯t have to push hard. I fell into it hard. I grabbed her tightly and pulled her even closer, if that was possible in this shitty patio chair. I indulged, but I always kept the monster, and my strength in check with her. I couldn¡¯t let myself get too carried away.

    I didn¡¯t need air to survive, but I could feel the growing urgency in her, the way she seemed to forget herself in the intensity of the moment. I was starting to notice how long she was holding on, and how tightly she refused to let go. Her grip on my neck only tightened, and the passion in her kiss became a fierce, overwhelming thing. It was like she was drowning in everything she had held back, and I was the only thing keeping her from sinking under.

    When she finally pulled back, gasping for air, I almost expected to see her lips tinged blue, her face pale from the sheer force of her need for oxygen. But instead, her cheeks were flushed, her breath ragged, her eyes burning with something raw and wild. She didn¡¯t speak, neither of us did, but the silence between us felt heavy, electric, like the air was charged with everything we hadn¡¯t said. Then we started again.

    We stayed locked in that fevered exchange for what felt like forever, time losing all meaning as we gave into the longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. The night around us was dark and quiet, the stars hidden behind clouds, the world seeming so far away. Out here, behind her house, there was no one to interrupt us, no one to remind us of everything waiting on the other side of this moment. It was just us¡­ alone in the night, wrapped up in each other¡¯s heat, finally letting go of the walls we had built.

    For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt close to someone again. Truly close. Not just physically, but in a way that I had been yearning for, aching for, since everything in my life had been stolen from me. The way she kissed me, the way she held me¡­ it was more than passion. It was a need, emotional and raw, an unspoken desire that matched my own somehow. I had missed this¡­ missed her in ways I couldn¡¯t even fully understand until now.

    I finally had one of the things I¡¯d wanted for so long. But even now, it didn¡¯t feel like enough. It would never feel like enough with the monster always lurking behind my eyes to rip apart this world and the people in it¡­ reminding me of what I was. The way she made me feel, the way she needed me, it was something I craved in every fiber of my being. Something I couldn¡¯t let go of now that I¡¯d tasted it again. It was the perfect counterbalance to make me feel human when my dark side wanted to slaughter and destroy. I knew that the moment it was over¡­ reality would always pull me back into the dark.

    Our pace slowed, becoming more about just being this close to each other again in the presence of the other. Eventually, we stopped the heated exchange, and just sat together in silence on the back patio, holding on like if we let go this would never happen again. After a few more drinks, we found our way back inside and upstairs.

    Autumn needed to hit the shower. She said she was still ¡°sweaty and gross¡± from the intense sparring with her mother and Clara throughout the day. I didn¡¯t mind anything about her at the present moment.

    Carter and Eleanor were still down in the basement doing things, and my hearing wouldn¡¯t fail me, so I followed Autumn upstairs. I was taking in every moment I could with her. I wanted to remember everything about my time with her¡­ while it lasted. The few minutes I spent alone with Autumn outside was intoxicating. I never wanted it to end.

    I waited in her bedroom while she cleaned up. I was hyper-aware of the noises coming from the bathroom upstairs. I thought I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so I ghosted out of her room like a shadow. I zipped around the corner lightly, stopping in Carter''s empty office. I began looking at the books on the shelf.

    Eleanor appeared behind me with a smile on her face and a stack of blankets in her hands.

    ¡°Carter and I weren¡¯t sure if you¡¯d stay the night, but we have stuff for you just in case,¡± she offered me the blankets.

    ¡°Thank you, but I don¡¯t need to sleep,¡± I laughed.

    ¡°Sam,¡± Eleanor chuckled to herself. ¡°We know you don¡¯t need to sleep, but we¡¯d like you to stay here. It would make us feel better, knowing you''re all right. It would make me feel better knowing we had you in the house with us, at least until Peter is gone,¡± she admitted.

    ¡°I have no plans to leave you guys until this thing is done,¡± I assured her.

    She sighed with relief, ¡°I can''t tell you how glad that makes me to hear. Just knowing you are only feet away from us all will put mine and Carter¡¯s minds at ease.¡± She smiled as she continued. ¡°We¡¯ll let me at least show you where you can sit¡­ lay down¡­ or whatever you¡¯ll do while us weaklings get our required sleep.¡±

    We both laughed together for a moment as I took the blankets from her and followed her out of the office. We walked down the hallway to the room closest to the stairs. Eleanor opened it up and led me into it. When she flipped the lights on, I realized that this was Allen¡¯s old room. His old pictures and memories were all over the place.

    ¡°We can¡¯t have you on the guest side like before. Kayla and Arthur are taking up that space, but Allen won¡¯t mind sharing his room with you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Eleanor. It means a lot for you guys to still want me around,¡± I told her.

    ¡°Make yourself at home, Sam. I don¡¯t think you will, but if you need anything, don¡¯t hesitate to go downstairs and get whatever you want from the kitchen. Carter and I are pretty beat, so we¡¯re about to hit the hay.¡±

    ¡°Okay, sounds good. Thanks again, Eleanor.¡±

    She reached around me, hugging me again, ¡°We should be the ones thanking you. Instant death as a bodyguard.¡± She patted my shoulder as she walked out, smiling lightly at her comfort knowing I¡¯d be inside their house.

    I pulled the door shut behind Eleanor and turned out the lights. I had no intention of sleeping. I wouldn¡¯t be able to, no with the threat of Peter still out there. I¡¯d stay awake while they all slept through the night.

    I heard Autumn finish in the shower and head back to her room. She must have realized I was gone instantly since I wasn¡¯t where she left me. I heard her get dressed in different clothes before hopping into her bed and shutting her lamp off.

    Carter set the alarm and closed up the house before he joined Eleanor in their room. I never heard a peep out of Kayla or Arthur on their side. The house was silent. The room was dark and the house fell to a low hum that probably only I could hear. I sat in the darkness of the room, thinking about the time with Autumn.

    I heard Carter and Eleanor¡¯s heart rates drop as they fell unconscious. After about an hour of absolute silence afterward, I heard Autumn. She was talking to me.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± she said quietly in her room, ¡°come here.¡±

    I felt my heart jump into overdrive. She knew I could hear her from where I was. She was calling for me.

    I moved slowly and quietly out from Allen¡¯s room across the far side of the second floor from Carter¡¯s room. I monitored their pulses closely, making sure they were not waking as I snuck around their house. If I was ever a shadow in the dark, I was in their hallway as I snuck into their daughter''s room.

    I opened and rushed through a small gap in Autumn¡¯s door before closing it in dead silence. I was in her room with her, alone and out of sight of everyone else.

    I turned to see Autumn sitting up in her bed staring at me. She was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, sitting on top of her blankets. Her dark hair was still lightly damp and strongly scented from her shower. She didn¡¯t say anything as I walked over to her quietly.

    When I got to her, she looked up at me for a second before she grabbed my hand and silently pulled me into her bed. She laid back as she pulled me on top of her. She started kissing me aggressively like she was still out in the most heated moments of our time earlier. I didn¡¯t stop her. I had always wanted this.

    After a few minutes of things getting heavier in the seclusion of her room, she pushed my jacket from my shoulders. That was the first thing that started pulling me from the moment. The old fears I used to have about this presented themselves again. I tried to stop thinking about them, but other things added as we kept going.

    The next thing that stirred my fears was when she slipped her shorts off. Alarms were going off in my mind. I had to stop her. There was too much I didn¡¯t know. But it was hard to pull myself away from her.

    The final straw was when she took off her shirt and she was only in her underwear. We were still on top of her blankets, but I could feel her legs pushing down the blankets beneath us so she could get us under them. I had to stop our progress; I couldn¡¯t go through with it. What would it do to her?

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said a little too loud as I pulled away from her. I stood up from the bed as she laid there on top of the ruffled blankets in nothing but her underwear.

    ¡°What is it? Do you not want to¡­¡± She was confused, and a little embarrassed.

    I breathed long and slow, trying to calm myself down, ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t, I just¡­ I don¡¯t know what it would mean. I don¡¯t know what it could do¡­ to you.¡±

    Autumn looked sharply at me in the dark, trying to understand my words. Then she got what I meant. ¡°You think you might hurt me, or change me in some way?¡±

    ¡°Not physically,¡± I assured her. ¡°But I don¡¯t know what I have in me¡­ like biologically. Just being with me¡­ in that way, could hurt you.¡±

    She was very amused, ¡°It¡¯s sweet of you to worry so much about me, but is that all you¡¯re worried about?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all? Yeah, that¡¯s all I¡¯m worried about,¡± I said, unsure of why she didn¡¯t seem so concerned. ¡°Just infecting you with some kind of¡­ whatever¡­ doesn¡¯t sound appealing in my mind.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± she was understanding, ¡°come back and I¡¯ll explain.¡± She patted the bed beside her, wanting me back in the closeness of our moment. Her deep brown eyes seemed calm and not ferociously intent on ripping my clothes off.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I sat back on the bed and laid down to match her position. We both lay beside each other on our sides, looking face to face on her pillows as we spoke about it. She had pulled the blankets over herself to cover her exposed skin so we could talk more seriously. She could tell this was something I had thought a lot about.

    ¡°Okay, so I¡¯ve actually had this conversation before with Jane, and even Frank. I wondered about these kinds of things after you left, once I knew you were something else. They were both worried when they were younger that somehow Jane would pass some kind of weird werewolf disease, or whatever, to Frank. But, thanks to her rapidly healing cells, her body is too strong for things like that. You heal fast, right?¡± she asked me in the dark.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I responded.

    ¡°Your body is in a constant state of looking for things to repair, or foreign bodies to purge or destroy. It doesn¡¯t matter if it is physical trauma, a foreign substance, or whatever. The things you¡¯re worried about, things that can have serious long-term effects on humans have no real place in the supernatural body.¡±

    Shockingly, it made sense, but I didn¡¯t want to just take her word on it here and now when all I wanted to do was agree and fall into my baser instincts. I still had questions, and she could tell as I sat quietly beside her on her bed for a few moments.

    ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I ran tests on your blood before,¡± she admitted sheepishly, pulling her blankets up a little to hide her face. I think she was slightly worried about telling me.

    ¡°You did? When? How?¡± I asked, smiling at her feigned innocence.

    ¡°Biology major, remember. After I accidentally shot you in the chest with that arrow, I took it from the street that night and brought it home. I ran tests on it, and it looks and acts completely human. Until you introduce something foreign into it, then it does what most other supernatural blood does. It almost acts like soap.¡±

    ¡°Soap?¡± I asked, confused.

    ¡°Like soap. Have you ever put dish soap in water, with pepper or anything else like that? It¡¯s an old science trick in school.¡± She scanned my face for a response but could tell I didn¡¯t have that kind of knowledge. ¡°The soap pushes things away from itself in the water¡­ something about surface tension¡­ I can''t remember the specifics. But that¡¯s kind of what your blood does under a microscope, it really doesn¡¯t let anything get in and stay. If something does manage to linger in your blood, it gets destroyed by your cells quickly, if not outright ejected.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ I don¡¯t have anything that would hurt you then?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Autumn assured. ¡°As far as anyone would be able to tell if they had a sample of your blood, you are completely human. Well,¡± she admitted, ¡°you¡¯d be a human in perfect physical health.¡±

    I nodded, accepting and believing her words. Autumn had already done the research on this part of our relationship, even after I was gone. I was glad she looked into my blood. That made me feel much more relieved.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, more letting my stress fall away.

    Autumn took that as the play button to continue what was happening, ¡°Okay?¡±

    She reached out from under her blankets and pulled me under them. In only moments, we returned to just how hot and heavy things were before, only this time I didn¡¯t stop her. I was with her in the darkness of her quiet room, nothing to stand between us anymore. We were together, there was nothing that would separate me from her moving forward. I wouldn¡¯t ever second guess my place with her. I would never leave her willingly again¡­not unless she told me herself that she wanted me to leave. That the monster, or the ancient entity was too much for her.

    <hr>

    It was very late, and Autumn¡¯s room was pitch black, except for the hint of moonlight that crept through the fabric of the closed curtains. I almost fell asleep right there with her under her sheets I was so content there with her. I hadn¡¯t been that close with anyone since Vicky. That was the first time I had been with anyone since becoming the monster.

    It was very different, almost overwhelming how much more my senses picked up in the heated moments with her. Her smell, her breath against my skin, her heart beating, even the pulse of blood beneath her skin anywhere I was touching her. I could feel it all like never before. Everything was magnified for me now. It was a whole new experience, one that I wasn¡¯t sure you could ever get used to. I couldn¡¯t quiet my mind after what had just happened, even in the silence after Autumn fell asleep. Even though Autumn¡¯s rhythmic breathing lulled me into a trance-like state, I could never let my guard down.

    I had to be on high alert with the threat of Peter still looming in the shadows. I would stay alert every second of every day until I drained the life from his body. I wouldn¡¯t let him take another one of my friends. It didn¡¯t matter what Annabelle saw or predicted, she couldn¡¯t see me, and none of them knew the lengths I would go to protect them all. I would become a monster more vicious than any that opposed us if it meant saving their lives. In the darkness of the house, I was their silent protector. I was the Chasses monster.

    Then I heard voices down the hall. A phone vibrated on a nightstand in Carter and Eleanor¡¯s room. Voices grumbled through the walls and into my ears. Carter was speaking with Martin. I couldn¡¯t tell what exactly was being said through the one-sided conversation, but I knew it was serious. I slipped out of bed with Autumn and silently melded through the shadows out of her room, through the hall, and back into Allen¡¯s bedroom. It was like I never left.

    In only a minute or two after I closed the door, Carter was bounding down the hall to my door. I beat him to the knob and pulled it open.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked in the dark to his surprised reaction.

    ¡°Martin¡­ he said he thinks he¡¯s seen Peter. He said outside of his bar, just standing in the parking lot,¡± Carter informed.

    ¡°What is he doing? What¡¯s he waiting for?¡± I asked in a rush, panicked at this new information dump.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t know, it¡¯s like he¡¯s waiting for Martin to come out, but the bar is packed. Martin¡¯s afraid Peter¡¯ll kill innocent people if he confronts him,¡± Carter informed.

    I waited for nothing. I saw this as my chance to kill Peter and end this for good. I didn¡¯t care what Annabelle saw; I knew where he was right now, and I would kill him again. Whether this would be the final death or not, I was unsure, but it would at least buy us more time if he did come back.

    I could hear Autumn¡¯s unconscious breathing through the hall. Eleanor was getting dressed quickly and coming out to meet us in the hall. I decided I¡¯d leave quickly. If I could end this without their involvement¡­ I would. I couldn¡¯t risk them¡­ I couldn¡¯t risk Autumn; not after everything I knew I had with her now.

    ¡°I¡¯m going,¡± I told him. ¡°You all need to stay here. Lock this place down with whatever warding, alarms, whatever. Just keep everyone in,¡± I told Carter before I became an intangible shadow, disappearing into the darkness of the house, and then leaving through the backdoor, bolting to the tree line.

    In only about ten minutes, I found myself standing in the dimly lit parking lot of Martin¡¯s vampire bar. The night air clung to me, a biting cold that wouldn¡¯t let go, and the pungent scent of cigarettes and cheap liquor. Neon lights from the bar¡¯s sign flickered erratically, casting an eerie glow across the packed lot. Cars were crammed together, their metallic frames reflecting the sparse light like dark sentinels. Shadows stretched long beneath them, pooling in the gaps between each vehicle. The murmur of laughter and muffled conversation leaked out from the bar, blending with the low hum of engines cooling down after the drive there.

    I hesitated before stepping out from protecting the Chasse house, but Peter¡¯s location was too tempting to ignore. The chance to kill or incapacitate that life-sucking gypsy was too great a prize to pass up. I wondered if there was some way I could trap him¡­ keep him locked down until I got the word on what to do. My mind screamed for clarity, for some dark voice to guide me, to tell me exactly what to do. But none came. Instead, the only clear thought was the desire, no, the need to feel my hands around Peter¡¯s throat, squeezing the life out of him.

    As I moved further into the parking lot, the gravel crunched beneath my boots, breaking the quiet between the cars of the bustling nightlife. The sound felt too loud in the stillness of the lot, like a warning, but I pressed on. Among the maze of vehicles, I spotted him, the familiar black suit cutting through the night. He was facing away, oblivious to my presence. I kept to the shadows, my breath tight in my chest as I crept closer, my heart pounding harder with each step. Why was he here? What did he want from Martin, alone? Why hadn¡¯t he sought out someone else from the collective family?

    As I edged nearer, a movement caught my eye. Another figure emerged from the darkness, one I hadn¡¯t expected to see. Charles.

    A head of silver hair flashed onto the scene. He moved faster than any of the other vampires in our circle of supernatural friends, yet he was not totally unfamiliar. Charles, Martin¡¯s creator, stood across a small space in the parking lot from the Grimwood man.

    ¡°Well, isn¡¯t this a surprise! They finally sent someone to figure out what has been going wrong with the sacrifices,¡± Peter laughed cheekily.

    ¡°Yes, they have, son.¡± Charles looked behind him swiftly to call forth two other beings from the shadows. ¡°I would much rather prefer to keep these others out of what comes next,¡± Charles motioned over toward his oldest friend¡¯s establishment as his unnamed cohorts joined him.

    Two others appeared from behind Charles, a man and a woman dressed in black clothing, stopping directly beside him. As soon as they appeared in sight, I knew what this was. This was a hunting party, a band of three, so-called immortals, sent up from the pits just like when they came for me.

    ¡°This is not good news for you,¡± Charles admitted to Peter.

    ¡°And you think you¡¯ll be the one to stop me?¡± Peter asked cockily before laughing in the parking lot. His shrill laughter filled the air as his confidence overflowed. ¡°Please, the pits aren¡¯t what they once were. Do you think I learned all this on my own? The elders aren¡¯t the only ones with contacts in ancient places. There is a change coming down below, but you won¡¯t see it,¡± Peter spat to the elder being as his devilish grin grew wider with pride. ¡°I¡¯ll take you now¡­ and add you to my collection.¡±

    The two beings flanking Charles launched forward in a sudden, violent rush. The first, a man, seemed to dissolve as he moved, slipping out of the physical realm in a ghostlike shimmer. His form flickered in and out of existence, blurring at the edges like smoke caught in a breeze. He surged through the expanse of the parking lot with uncanny speed, his nearly invisible claws slicing through the air. When he struck Peter, the impact was brutal and swift, sending the Grimwood tumbling helplessly across the gravel. The parked cars, though low and scattered, offered decent cover from the violence unraveling just feet away, but the sounds of the struggle echoed through the lot; metal groaning, gravel scattering beneath their feet.

    The second figure was a woman, her appearance deceptively normal, completely human, with no claws or fangs, no monstrous features to hint at the raw power contained in her slender frame. But as Peter scrambled to regain his footing, she met him with a devastating knee to the pavement. The sickening crack of bone echoed in the night air. I could almost feel the snap of ribs and sternum, pulverized into dust beneath her crushing strength. Her movements left clear evidence of her force; every leap, every lunge toward Peter left jagged cracks and splinters in the asphalt, like the ground itself was buckling under her assault.

    Her expression remained eerily calm, devoid of the rage her body projected. Despite the overwhelming power behind her attacks, her face held a cold detachment, as if this destruction was simply routine.

    Both attackers moved with surgical precision, darting in to strike and then retreating to Charles as quickly as they¡¯d come. Their movements were calculated as if they understood that letting Peter get his hands on them would be fatal. They were clever and cautious. I could sense the deadly calculation behind their rapid assaults as I watched.

    Gradually, they drove Peter deeper into the parking lot, away from the view of onlookers inside. The fight shifted, becoming less visible, as they maneuvered him into a darker, more obscured corner of the lot. It was a strategic retreat, one designed to hide the battle from prying eyes. They were smart, relentless, and working in perfect tandem, their attacks whittling Peter down as they herded him like prey.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see,¡± Charles asked Peter, ¡°it is fruitless. You cannot escape us, and you cannot win. Do you think you are the first to reach this level of necromancy? We know what you can do, and we know who your master is,¡± Charles informed the blood-spitting Peter.

    Peter smiled with blood in his teeth, ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯m learning from someone special. Someone far away, in a land of blood and flames.¡± Peter laughed at his description. He said it mockingly like he was reciting a poem.

    Charles shook his head, ¡°Then, you are beyond reason, and there is no benefit in returning you to the pits. You¡¯ll die here!¡± Charles¡¯ words were rigid and unbending. His word was law.

    The two moved in again at their leaders¡¯ words, one phasing like a wraith and the other leaping through the air. What they did to Peter was hard to put into words. The woman brutalized him beyond recognition while the wraithlike being shredded and flayed him in ways that I never could have replicated. The ghostly being had precision, unlike anything I had seen before in this dark world. He moved in and out of physical objects, intangible and out of sync with this world. This went on for about five minutes of agonizing torture for Peter. However, the man just kept smiling and laughing. Nothing they could do to him would ever wipe that grin from his face. It was like he knew something the rest of us didn¡¯t.

    As Charles turned, his gaze locked on a shadow moving in the distance, a creeping sense of dread filled the air, suffocating and thick like the weight of a storm about to break. I stepped out from the dark, my sole purpose was to end Peter and the threat he posed to everyone I cared about. The shadows clung to me like a second skin, the chill of the night biting into my flesh. Everything that followed happened in a blur, a violent instant of chaos and horror.

    Peter let out a surge of power that rippled through the parking lot like a shockwave, flinging his attackers away from him as if they were nothing. The sound of bodies hitting concrete echoed in the still night, but Peter stood tall, unscathed, his wounds closing, flesh knitting back together in an instant. The smirk that curled across his lips was unnatural, twisted, and full of something far worse than confidence. His eyes locked onto mine, and I realized, with a sinking pit of dread, that he had been waiting for me. All of this¡­ was to draw me out. But¡­ why? He couldn¡¯t kill me, and he knew that¡­

    ¡°There you are, Sam. I¡¯ve been expecting you,¡± Peter¡¯s voice dripped with malice, each word laced with a sick, twisted pleasure. And then, before I could react, flames¡­ sickly, unnatural green flames began to lick up his body. They clung to him like a living thing, crawling over his skin, crackling and burning. But it wasn¡¯t just fire. It was something darker, something ancient and foul. The flames didn¡¯t consume him like ordinary fire, they devoured him. His flesh blackened and blistered, peeling away as the fire swallowed him whole. The scent of charred meat filled the air, choking the night with its foulness. This didn¡¯t seem like a power that was a gift¡­ this was cursed.

    We watched in horrified silence as Peter¡¯s body burned alive, green flames dancing around him like a twisted mockery of life. The fire was so intense, it seemed to eat at the very air around him, yet there was no heat, no warmth; only that sickening green glow that would emanate from his eyes at times. Everyone stood frozen, shock and confusion paralyzing us all as the gypsy¡¯s form dissolved before our eyes. In mere seconds, Peter was gone, vanished into the inferno, leaving nothing but the strange, flickering flames in his place. And then, just as suddenly, they too disappeared, leaving only the heavy silence in their wake.

    I stopped dead in my tracks, my breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. My heart pounded in my chest, a sickening rhythm that echoed the terror in my mind. I could feel the fear clawing at me, not just for myself but for my friends... for Autumn. What had Peter just done? Where the hell had he gone?

    "Charles," I called out, my voice strained, cutting through the oppressive silence. "What are you doing here?" The question came out in a rush, more desperate than I¡¯d intended, but I needed answers. Anything to make sense of what had just happened.

    Had Peter just done my job for me? Drawn me all the way here to just kill himself in front of me?

    But Charles... his face was pale, frozen in fearful shock. His eyes, wide and unblinking, were fixed on something beyond me, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. Whatever words he¡¯d meant to say were swallowed by the intensity of the moment.

    I followed his gaze, every muscle in my body tensing. What was he looking at? Why did he look like that? I barely twisted my head around to see where he was looking.

    "Let¡¯s go somewhere we can be alone." Peter¡¯s sick voice rolled over my shoulder.

    My blood ran cold. I spun around, my body already shifting, instinct kicking in as I prepared to tear him apart. But it was too late. Whatever he had done with those flames... it had already caught me off guard. The dread, that sinking pit in my stomach, deepened. Peter had the upper hand, and I was standing in the middle of his trap.

    His pale, bony hand grabbed my arm, and I felt the flames wrap themselves around every inch of me. They swarmed me in an instant, blocking everything from my view. All I could see, and feel was the twisting heat of the green.

    Blinding light and searing fire tore through every fiber of my being as my body was violently ripped through the strange, eerie space. It wasn¡¯t just fire¡­ it was a plane of pure agony, a realm made of nothing but energy that felt alive with decay, like it was eating me from the inside out, fueling its power by converting my life to fuel. My eyes, if they could still be called that, were flooded with the most intense emerald energy, a glowing inferno that engulfed me. It was everywhere, pressing into my skull, forcing me to witness my own torment. The heat was unbearable, as if my skin, my flesh, and even my bones were boiling alive, disintegrating piece by agonizing piece.

    Peter''s grip never faltered. His hand clamped onto my arm like a vice of solid steel, biting straight through to my bones, fusing his fingers to me. I wanted to scream, to tear myself away, but his hold was unbreakable in that space. The searing pain pulsed up my arm, a grotesque mixture of fire and pressure that I couldn¡¯t escape. My blood felt thick, like molten iron pumping through my veins, each heartbeat pushing the agony deeper until it consumed me completely.

    The world around me blurred into chaos; a swirling vortex of heat, and light. It was a pain that stretched on for what felt like an eternity. The pressure mounted, suffocating and relentless, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I was certain I¡¯d be torn apart by it, obliterated in this infernal passage between worlds. And yet, just as the pressure reached its peak, it lessened, a brief, sickening moment of reprieve before vanishing entirely.

    Then, we were spat out, violently hurled from the wormhole, and slammed onto the ground below. I hit the earth hard, my body collapsing onto the coarse, blackened terrain. The ground beneath me was charred, rough, and jagged, every piece of it cutting into my skin. My hands instinctively splayed out to catch myself, only to burn at the touch of the scorched earth. It felt like a fresh wave of fire tearing through my palms. I couldn¡¯t tell if the heat came from the ground itself or if the portal had scorched my flesh so deeply that I couldn¡¯t distinguish between the two.

    My fingers dug into the earth as I gasped for breath, every inhale dragging fiery embers into my lungs. The air was thick with the scent of ash and sulfur, choking me, adding to the relentless pain still surging through my body. My skin felt like it was melting, peeling away in raw, blistering patches, the remnants of the portal¡¯s fire still licking at my nerves. I lay there, unable to move, the sheer agony chaining me to the blackened ground beneath.

    Peter¡¯s presence loomed beside me, his grip finally loosening from my arm, leaving behind the memory of the grip that transported me as a prisoner. I could still feel the imprint of his fingers burned into my flesh, a constant reminder of the torment he had dragged me through. But as I lay there, struggling to breathe, the pain was the only thing that felt real in this alien land.

    I looked around shakily at my still-burning body, muscles, and bones protruding from what remained of my human form. I was shocked by the instant damage and confused as I looked around. There was a ringing in my ears that was so loud I couldn¡¯t think straight initially.

    ¡°Damn. I was really hoping I could steal you,¡± Peter said almost to himself. He seemed let down. ¡°Welcome, my friend,¡± Peter greeted me from a few feet away, he and his suit were utterly unharmed by the green flames. ¡°Welcome¡­ to your end.¡±

    I gritted my teeth and forced my legs to stand as I growled, ¡°Where are we?¡± Drool seeped through the cracks of my teeth as I willed my muscles with all of my might. They were burning and in searing pain, but I needed them. The pain was mind-numbing as it singed my cells.

    ¡°This is where you will die. You are much too strong for me to kill, let alone siphon your life, it seems. Maybe once I steal the lives of all the ones you hold dear, then I¡¯d have the strength to take you. However, it seems that won¡¯t happen. I¡¯ll just drop you off here to deal with what calls this place home.¡± Peter smiled as he looked around the vast hellscape. He mocked a shiver of fear. ¡°Good luck with this place¡­¡±

    As I emerged from the portal, my eyes slowly mended, shifting to darkened voids that absorbed the grotesque details of this hellscape. The sky overhead was a deep, oppressive black, choked with thick, acrid smog that hung heavy like a funeral shroud. It was intermittently illuminated by raging fires that erupted from the scorched ground below; fiery tongues licking hungrily at the night, casting an eerie glow that painted the landscape in hues of blood-red and orange. Unlike Peter¡¯s sickly green flames, these were primal and furious, reminiscent of the infernal rage of Mercy¡¯s blood flames, devouring everything in their reach.

    The ground was a desolate expanse of charred earth, scattered with small rocky crags and jagged outcroppings that rose like the broken teeth of some slumbering beast. In the distance, I caught a flicker of lightning arcing across the smog-laden sky, its flash as crimson as the flames that danced below. This was not Earth; this was not the land of the living, nor the fields that my entity called home. This was a realm lost to life, a tortured dimension that thrummed with agony and despair.

    As my ears healed from the brutal cacophony of the portal, the world around me erupted into sound. The constant roar of the otherworldly flames filled the air, a deep, resonant growl that reverberated in my chest. It was as if the fires themselves were sentient, alive, and ravenous, consuming every scrap of organic matter in their path until only ash remained. They rolled across the land like a predator stalking its prey, ever searching for the next morsel to devour.

    That¡¯s when I noticed them¡­ bones littered everywhere, stark white against the scorched earth, remnants of those who had been consumed. My body was almost fully healed in this twisted place, but the sight around me chilled my blood. Dead bodies lay strewn across the ground, a macabre scene of carnage that sent waves of dread coursing through me. Upon closer inspection, it became horrifyingly clear: these were not human remains. These were the carcasses of beasts, grotesque creatures that looked as if they had been born from the very nightmares of this hell.

    Their forms were monstrous, forged from the chaos of this realm. Jagged, charred horns jutted from massive skulls, and teeth lay scattered like jagged shards of obsidian. Their claws were slick with blood, glistening darkly as if they had just finished tearing apart their own kin in a savage display of brutality. These creatures were thick and dense, their squat bodies seeming to defy nature¡¯s design.

    The hide of each corpse was tough and nearly as charred as the ground beneath them, taking on a sickening reddish-black hue that blended seamlessly with their surroundings. They were all as large as I remembered Phineas in his fully transformed chimera state, monstrous in their proportions and ferocity. Yet despite that comparison, they were unlike anything I had ever encountered, anything I had seen or read about in the bestiaries. This land was a breeding ground for horrors I could scarcely fathom, a realm where life and death twisted together in a grotesque dance of survival, and I was now part of it.

    This must have been what the being, Jon had mentioned before. He said that there were places I could be trapped, places I could be put where I wouldn¡¯t die, but would remain until he could find me a way out. This seemed like one such world. Was I stuck? Could I get back and save my family? Could anything that lived here actually harm or kill me if it tried?

    Peter was enjoying every second of my reaction to the sights before me. None of this looked like it surprised him. He had been there before. His guard seemed lowered, and that is when I turned on my heels and exploded towards him.

    ¡°Not today, Sam,¡± Peter said as he sidestepped my approaching form and lashed my body with a green spout of flames. He seemed faster here¡­ stronger.

    I was thrown across the charred and jagged rocks beneath us, slicing and burning my flesh again. This place was dangerous and sturdy. The materials here were much more durable and sharper than the environment of the living world.

    ¡°It¡¯s too bad, really. I would have liked to take all that power for myself. Maybe if I¡¯m lucky, I can still get the rest of the monsters you call friends. I am especially thrilled to take revenge on your two werewolf friends. They cost me a whole pack¡­ I had plans for them. I used them much too often to just be snuffed out like that. Yet, ole¡¯ Darry never stood a chance against you, did he?¡± Peter laughed darkly. ¡°I guess you didn¡¯t have the nerve to kill Allen and Eloise, huh? But I guess you did come for them, didn¡¯t you? I still can¡¯t figure out how you found him. You wouldn¡¯t tell me, would you?¡± he played a begging face for me, just to be psychotic.

    ¡°What,¡± I couldn¡¯t believe the words he was speaking. How did he know that name?

    ¡°Ah, yes, you see it now. You really should have before, Sam. Really¡­ you are a dense one huh?¡± Peter looked absolutely thrilled as I lay in the burning ash, connecting the dots in front of him. He was finally getting the big reveal for something he had kept hidden for so long. ¡°Allen kept many things hidden from the pack, even young Eloise. Darry didn¡¯t need to know who Allen, or should I say, ¡°Jimmy,¡± really was, he just needed to keep Allen broken and in the pack. You see, I cursed people for him whenever I needed them to grow stronger in numbers. I used Darry¡¯s pack to kill my enemies back home. They were a convenient bunch. A little more subtlety would have been nice, but they were¡­ effective. They helped me grow as strong as I could before I realized that my true power lay in necromancy,¡± Peter laughed at me.

    I clawed my burning body up from the ground with blackened eyes and extended talons. His words angered and fueled me to struggle through the pain of the burns.

    ¡°It is pretty poetic, is it not? The lone hunter from the Chasse family that survived his werewolf hunt, was turned into the very same beast he hunted. I¡¯ve got to tell you; I¡¯ve been waiting a long time to take credit for that one. As soon as I knew a Chasse, that was connected with the Wicklows, and even the Talbots, was coming into my reach¡­¡± Peter¡¯s eyes grew wide as he relived the excitement, ¡°it was too good to believe. When I found Allen, I did to him just what we did to the Talbots all those years ago. He¡¯ll pass that curse on to his children, and his children¡¯s children just as the Talbots do. Then, the Chasse family will be nothing more than the things they hunt.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you,¡± I spoke slowly at him as my muscles began to flex and push against their natural limits. ¡°I¡¯m going to be the one you see when the lights finally go out, you mother fucker!¡± I was enraged at the situation.

    ¡°I know you want to, and a part of me wants to let you do it again, only so I can see your face when I come back again. However, I have a schedule to keep. My master will arrive here shortly, and he is very intent on meeting you¡­ if you survive long enough. I may not be able to steal the life and power that lies inside of you, but he will take you in an instant,¡± Peter said coldly. ¡°Another herald of an ancient, given to him on a silver platter. Oh boy, he¡¯s going to love me after he consumes your power. Then¡­ he¡¯ll be able to kill your Ancient¡­ and take his power. Then¡­¡± Peter¡¯s eyes grew even wider. ¡°Then the world will know something it hasn¡¯t for eons. True power!¡±

    Peter walked over to me as I struggled through pain and kicked me in the face. It didn¡¯t physically do anything, but it enraged me that he could do this to me while I was stuck in such agony.

    ¡°I really wish it were me to kill you and steal your power, but I¡¯ll settle for your friends¡­ especially that Autumn!¡± Peter let out an admiring whistle, ¡°She looks strong¡­¡± His eyes were wide.

    I dove forward to wrap my hands around his throat. I inched closer and closer as I flew through the air, actually believing I caught him by surprise, but I was wrong. The sick fire wrapped him up in a pillar of flames. When I collided into the burning pillar, my body burst back into flames as it spat me out of the other side.

    The tower of fire vanished as soon as I hit the ground; the only fire left from it was burning away the outer layers of my flesh. Peter was gone, and I was alone in the burning world of corpses and darkness. Jon told me that he wouldn¡¯t always be able to save me from things like this. Was this one of those times?

    I was alone amongst the demonic-looking corpses and flames that consumed them. Peter was gone, probably back in the world of the living, tunneling through dimensional planes to return to the city of St. Louis. I, however, did not have that ability. If I was getting out of this place, it would be by my creator. If he could pull me from the top of the Lemp Brewery like he did, maybe he¡¯d call me back to the fields from this hell.

    It had to be soon. If what Peter said was true¡­ then another Ancient was coming¡­ and it was coming to kill me!

 Chapter 55 - Underdogs (Carter)

    I got another call from Martin. This one was different. Something went wrong. Sam had left, in the dead of night after Martin¡¯s last call. Peter was there¡­ waiting at Martin¡¯s. Sam and Martin both were confident in their ability to dispatch him again, and I had no intentions of taking any more of my family around him again. Not willingly. It was supposed to be an easy thing. Sam had never failed to absolutely slaughter anyone he had set his sights on and unleashed the beast within. I had no fears when he left.

    About an hour after the dreadful call, we had people flocking to our house just before dawn crept over the horizon. Something happened to Sam¡­ something none of us saw coming. This changed everything.

    Frank and Clara had arrived at almost the exact same time, pulling into our darkened driveway one after the other. Wayland stayed home with Delilah while she slept, but he was there on speakerphone so he could hear everything that was happening. Martin and Alex appeared outside of our home, sprinting through the fleeting shadows of the night sky; shortly followed by Charles. The oldest vampire I had ever personally met, had returned. His silver hair glowed with the distant light that was just breaching the horizon as Martin held the door for his old friend. He came alone, remembering exactly where I lived after the last time we met. The last time extreme circumstances brought us together. Charles ditched the two others that Martin had said were in his company.

    As the sun inched past the surface of the horizon, I closed the door to our home, locking in our vampire friends from the sun¡¯s lethal approach.

    ¡°Carter¡­ I wish I could say it¡¯s good to see you again,¡± Charles apologized with strained eyes. ¡°But I only bring bad tidings¡­ again.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you Charles,¡± I sighed as we shook hands. My grip was firm and serious, while he was measured against my human form. Always maintaining control over himself.

    ¡°Where did they go? What happened to him?¡± Eleanor asked first. My wife was visibly distraught for Sam. Fearing the worst inside her shaking mind.

    Everything was recounted for us in the early morning hours of our living room. We sat there talking, while Sam and Peter were somewhere... nowhere... we didn''t know. There was nothing we could do for him. Nothing we knew could help; we were just useless afterthoughts in a fight greater than we were equipped for. It was strange to feel that way¡­ like an unsuspecting human with no knowledge of the supernatural at all. It made me feel helpless, like a child, something I hadn¡¯t felt in a long time.

    We knew that if Sam ever stood toe to toe against anything, he would most likely always come out on top. We hadn¡¯t seen him lose yet¡­ not really. But that¡¯s not what happened. Sam was taken from battle in an instant. There was no fight, he never touched Peter. Peter touched him first. They both disappeared in a pillar of green flames.

    The old silver-haired vampire shook his head apologetically. ¡°Peter compared himself to the elders below, saying that he also had ¡°contacts¡± in an ancient place. He could be bluffing, overplaying his hand, but¡­ if he¡¯s telling the truth¡­¡± Charles ran his hand through his silky hair. ¡°I fear that he has taken Sam somewhere that we cannot follow; a place that could have no return.¡±

    ¡°Charles,¡± Martin cut in, ¡°you don¡¯t think Peter could actually have the ability to go from here to there, let alone take someone else by force¡­ do you?¡± Martin really seemed to be in disbelief.

    ¡°I do, Martin. Unfortunately, this is how Peter has stayed off of our radar for as long as he has. He can move between places, vanishing himself in and out of the living world to¡­ someplace else. It¡¯s a power I have scarcely heard of, even the elders have never shown that type of ability. Not even Mercy. If they could transport themselves at will, I don¡¯t think they¡¯d stay in the pits. That kind of power comes from strength beyond this world¡­ from a land that nothing could survive.¡± Charles shook his head with disbelief. ¡°It isn¡¯t direct freedom to move anywhere, however. One must first be transported to a different place¡­ where the power resides. Then from there, you can return to where you desire in this world, if that power allows it. But how would Peter Grimwood have gained such favor?¡±

    Alex spoke up next, ¡°What are you saying? That Peter took Sam to what¡­ another world?¡±

    None of us wanted to accept what the answer would be. It was too big¡­ too far out of our reach. Autumn stopped listening and walked out of sight of everyone else. I heard her go into the kitchen and open my whiskey cabinet. I heard her pour a drink in a glass and then sit down in there.

    Then, out of sight of the rest of us, she just broke down even harder. Kayla and Arthur were awake and fully caught up on what had happened. Kayla went to her in the kitchen. She comforted and held Autumn for the first time since Zeke passed. Autumn had been there for Kayla almost every moment since Zeke had died, but now Kayla was there for my daughter.

    ¡°Another world, another dimension... I don¡¯t know exactly what it is,¡± Charles began cautiously. ¡°But what I do know is that it¡¯s a place where escape is impossible. It¡¯s a realm of endless waste and void, far beyond anything we have here. These dimensions are home to... things. Eldritch beings with no defined shape, ancient monstrosities so vast they can¡¯t even exist in the physical world as we know it.¡± He paused, looking uncertain but determined to explain as best he could. ¡°I¡¯m no expert. I¡¯ve only read bits and pieces, some very old texts and fragments of lore. And I¡¯ve heard rumors from certain elders down in the pits who have their own¡­¡± he glanced at Martin. ¡°What did you call them?¡±

    ¡°Bestiaries,¡± Martin supplied quickly.

    ¡°Bestiaries¡­ yes, that¡¯s the word we¡¯ll use, though these creatures are far from ordinary beasts. These books, if you can call them that, serve a similar purpose. The elders have tried to make contact with a certain being, reaching out in their own ways. I don¡¯t know much about what they¡¯ve requested from these entities, or what those beings have demanded in return¡­ but they¡¯re real. And if Peter has taken Sam to one of those places, I¡¯m afraid we may never see him again.¡±

    Charles¡¯ expression grew darker. ¡°There are things in those realms, things you couldn¡¯t imagine in your worst nightmares. Those who seek power from these beings often meet a swift and brutal end. These ancient entities don¡¯t act quickly; they move with deliberate slowness, setting plans in motion that span lifetimes. Mercy was a prime example of someone making contact with one of them, reaching for¡­ more. Although she never shared much about her benefactor. Secrecy and paranoia ran through her mind constantly, so she wasn''t a wellspring of information. But, if you don¡¯t have their favor, or protection, just making contact, or stepping into one of those domains could mean instant death.¡±

    His voice held an edge of finality, the weight of each word underscoring the gravity of the situation.

    ¡°Has anyone spoken to Annabelle?¡± Wayland buzzed through the phone. ¡°She¡¯ll need to know, and then she can see what¡¯s coming. This has to be the most important thing we do next,¡± Wayland urged.

    He was absolutely right. We had to contact Annabelle. It was the only thing any of us could do now that the unexplainable had just happened.

    It was almost nine o¡¯clock in the morning, and we were all still lingering inside the house. Charles, Martin, and Alex all hid within the shadows of our sprawling home as we waited for the gypsy family to arrive. We had made contact, and they were coming.

    When Annabelle, Shelta, and Patrick arrived, I felt a physical sigh of relief in the house. We needed to pick her brain and see what she could feel about Sam.

    Once they were all up to speed, Annabelle seemed under duress, ¡°And you are sure he is gone?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ he just vanished with Peter,¡± Eleanor struggled to maintain her composure. She was staring into the wall of the living room as she spoke.

    Charles spoke up next, ¡°We know that Peter has been in contact with something from the other side. Necromancy has ties to one of those dark dimensions, and we know for certain that he has been traveling in and out of our world to another.¡±

    Annabelle nodded, ¡°I have to agree with you. Mucia¡¯s hellfire came from the same place.¡±

    I had questions immediately after Annabelle''s words. She knew something about these other realms and ominous figures. But my questions could wait. I just needed someone to say what we needed to do to get Sam back. If we could get Sam back¡­

    ¡°What does this mean?¡± Autumn cried quietly. ¡°Where is he? Is he okay?¡± Her panic was slowing but still present, as she continued to day drink in the living room.

    Charles spoke to all of us, ¡°The little I know of that other place is enough to realize that not many beings come and go from there freely. If Peter is jumping between worlds, then he is being allowed to do so by someone much greater than he. I doubt they will let Sam have the same freedom. We need to shift our focus¡­¡± Charles was cut off.

    ¡°What about the one Sam talks about?¡± Eleanor cut in. ¡°I felt that things power when I was with him in the fields. Maybe it could help him¡­¡± Eleanor was grasping at straws, but I hoped she was right.

    ¡°I still see him,¡± Annabelle assured. ¡°I saw him standing beside me in a vision. It was the first time I had ever seen him with my abilities, but he was there, and he still is. Not the void or the space in time he blots out of my visions, but I see him.¡±

    ¡°How can you see him, Mom¡­¡± Shelta was at a loss. ¡°I still can¡¯t. What changed for you to be able to see him like that?¡±

    Annabelle looked like she was holding something back as she answered her daughter, ¡°Do not worry about the specifics, Shelta. Nothing has changed in what is to come. I have seen you assist in Peter¡¯s final death. We will not lose any more family against Peter¡­ that is a promise. He will not kill anyone else!¡± Her words seemed reliable.

    ¡°So, what are we supposed to do?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°Wait¡­¡± Annabelle answered. ¡°Time will reveal everything. If I see a change in the finality of the events, I will correct our course as needed.¡±

    ¡°But what about Sam,¡± Autumn pleaded. ¡°We can¡¯t just sit around and forget about him¡­ we have to do something¡­¡±

    ¡°If there was something to do, Autumn, I fear we cannot do it,¡± Annabelle said. ¡°Sam has always been interwoven into far greater powers than we realized. I do not know his ultimate fate, but I know that he will return in some form. His fate is his own, and his future is going to be hard. There is nothing that we can do to help him. The only thing any of us can do is be there for him in his few moments of peace. His dark days have already begun, and they will continue for a very long time¡­ until he finds rest.¡±

    ¡°You sound like you know something, Annabelle,¡± Wayland spoke through the speaker again. ¡°Is he still alive?¡±

    Wayland was always quicker to piece things together than the rest of us.

    ¡°I feel like I have only glimpsed into Sam¡¯s true nature. I do not truly know what he is, but what I saw¡­ is something I never thought a human being would ever endure.¡±

    At Annabel¡¯s words, Autumn gritted her teeth and continued to cry silently. She kept trying to maintain her composure, but it was no use. Sam was gone, we all knew that, but the mystery and uncertainty around him and his status were not helping the situation. Was he alive? Was he dead? Was Annabelle right and we might see him again? Was he in some sort of hell right now? I think Autumn thought she¡¯d have time to figure things out with him, but now¡­ he was gone; wrapped up in things too big for our family.

    Everyone was a wreck. Shelta and Annabelle both look frazzled in a way that I hadn¡¯t seen before. I hoped that we would see our friend again, but I was scared to put too much hope into that thought. Other dimensions and planes of existence were beyond me. I fought physical beings and protected innocent human beings on the streets from flesh and blood monsters. I understood the basics of what we were talking about, but I had to admit that all of this was above my scope.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    All three vampires were stuck within our home and could not escape until nightfall. We spent much of the rest of the day catching up with Charles, who was just as welcoming and humble as I remembered. We told him everything that had happened with Sam since he left after Mercy and Phineas¡¯ defeat. He talked about his own family for a while. Then he spoke of the two others that were sent with him by the Elders. We all had many questions for him as the day and information continued to play out.

    About halfway through the day, Shelta and Annabelle left the house to prepare for something that Annabelle wouldn¡¯t inform us about. I wanted her to let me know, but I let them go since she could see beyond what I could.

    Patrick stayed with us for the time being. He helped Kayla calm and support Autumn, who was losing her composure to such an extent that it had me start worrying. Eleanor was right there with our daughter, and I wanted to be. Still, Frank, Clara, and I needed to prepare for an upcoming fight against this dimension-hopping dickhead that had taken our family from us.

    We had no mystical abilities like the Wicklows, but we had our tools, equipment, and skills. That¡¯s when I got an idea. We had been thinking of a way to kill Peter Grimwood like he was some kind of monster, but what if the key to beating him wasn¡¯t killing? What if containment was what we needed? Frank, Clara and I started formulating a plan.

    Later that day, we had our plan, and we had our equipment. Peter Grimwood was looking for our family, we knew that. We knew that he had a deep-seated hatred for our families from the history and records that the Grimwoods kept after the families exiled them from the collective.

    The plan was simple. We had many wards and protections for our property and land against any supernatural entity. The Wicklows helped us gain an impenetrable barrier against the creatures of the night over the years. However, we had been playing with the idea of lowering our guard. By reducing our barriers, I thought we could draw in our threats within our land¡­ and trap them. If we brought them in close, we could entangle them with the same wards that kept them out. We could close them back on top of the threats that were aimed at us, keeping them within our property, rather than outside.

    We had an idea, and it started with a question; why hasn¡¯t Peter come to our house yet? Peter had reached out and touched us in unknown locations. If he could find us at the Cliff Cave, the Lemp Brewery, again in that city street, and then find Martin just to draw out Sam from our house¡­why hasn¡¯t he come to our house?

    The more we thought about it, the more we realized the history of our home. Our home was originally built back in 1900. At the turn of the century, our amalgamation of families decided to build a massive residence for the three bloodlines. It was to be a place that we could all call home. In the very beginning, when the families came over from the other side of the ocean, we lived separately for a while, mainly the Talbots. However, after a few years of living in a new country fighting monsters and demons they had never seen, our conglomerate family wanted to pool resources and join back as they used to in times of old. A mansion was erected and slowly expanded upon to create the modern home that my family now lives in.

    It only took a few decades for the families to split again; the Wicklows needing space from the rest of us to live as they saw fit, and the Talbots staying away for obvious reasons. So, the mansion and all of its benefits fell to my family, the Chasses.

    However, through the years and many generations of Wicklows, Talbots, and Chasses, the home and property were so heavily warded that it became an impenetrable fortress to anything looking to cause us harm. The Talbots had the supernatural strength of the wolf to protect them, so they did not care to retain the property. The Wicklows were close, having their own supernatural abilities to create even more warding, so they were never worried that they couldn¡¯t recreate what we had here. So, it fell to my family to maintain the massive structure that became our family''s inherited home.

    The warding was thick and complex. Nothing had ever gotten through the unseen barriers to cause us harm, save for a few times the warnings had come down; the physical pieces being damaged over time, or intentionally broken to add on new materials and effects. Over the years, our families created protections of all kinds. There were triple redundancies set in all around the property. We had outer barriers that were backed by inner barriers that were supported by our inner warding that was carved on the beams within the walls. Supernaturals such as Jane, Martin, and Sam could come through, but only if they had already entered through invitation. This was a Wicklow addition back in the early days. No creature could ever find our house, let alone enter unless they had previously been welcomed there by a trusted member of the family; and most importantly, did not want to cause us harm. Over time, even Martin was able to invite people in.

    Warding can be simple but powerful seals that can be created using a multitude of methods. The most common we currently use is a silver base imbued with the ancient glyphs taught to us by our ancestors. The glyphs are a language associated with the Grimwood family and their supernatural power. Using the written words of the gypsy¡¯s history alongside supernatural material like silver, we can create a closed loop that will protect the area inside from inhuman threats. The same glyphs are always associated with the warding, no matter the materials used, or size. Still, the materials are interchangeable, along with the specific effect you wish to create. Angel oak timbers, buried foxgloves, and blazingstar are just a few different materials used in older times. The most potent warding we had on our property were angel oak timbers that were cut and buried beneath the soil in the foundation of our home, as well as a few middle-range barriers on the way to our property line. They were carved and strutted with silver to enhance the concentric circles that were built within them to protect us. Circular builds are the easiest and most effective style of warding our ancestors came to understand. Every single ward that covers my family home is of the same shape, only materials and effects differ.

    Needless to say, the Chase home was so protected from any possible threat, from years of careful thought and construction, that nothing could get to us. Peter was no different. Eleanor and I spoke about the belief that he had not come directly to us because we were in our safest location most of the time. And, if we could keep him out, what if we could keep him in?

    After a few hours of talking and planning amongst my own family, we thought we had a plan that would give us the edge against Peter and his unnatural abilities. We felt that we could break our two outer wards to bring him in close, and then seal it back behind him. If we could get him inside and trapped, maybe Shelta and Annabelle could come in and do whatever they needed to do to trap him and seal him away. Perhaps, we also could figure out something about Sam.

    When we all gathered to plan, I noticed something change in Autumn. There was a hardness in her eyes, a chill that ran deeper than I¡¯d ever seen. It was like she¡¯d shut down every part of herself that wasn¡¯t focused on vengeance. The moment we started discussing warding and the possibility of trapping Peter, she was all in, almost too eager. It was as if she¡¯d been waiting for this opportunity, like the idea of him suffering was the only thing keeping her going.

    She didn¡¯t hide it, either. She made little remarks, almost offhand, about wanting to be the one to hurt him. There was an edge to her voice, a grim satisfaction that seemed out of place, even in our grim situation. It was more than just anger or the need for justice¡­ there was a darkness there, something raw and personal. Once Peter was trapped, she made it clear that she wanted to be the one to make him suffer, to give back every ounce of pain she was feeling. It was as if she believed that hurting him was the only way to reclaim a part of herself that he¡¯d taken. And I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she wasn¡¯t just looking for revenge, but for a kind of closure that would never come.

    We called Shelta, but there was no answer. We called Annabelle, and there was no answer. We definitely needed their power once we had Peter in his cage, but we could not wait. Eleanor, Autumn, and I also felt very strongly that the longer we waited, the more of a chance Sam would forever be out of our reach. Yet, I think our biggest fear was that we¡¯d clear our wards and Peter wouldn¡¯t come. Then we¡¯d be at a loss with no hope of finding Sam. It was never said by the others, but I think we all agreed. This wasn¡¯t just some defense mechanism for us, it was the only thing we could think of doing. If we couldn¡¯t trap Peter here¡­ what else could we do? It was our one chance to be useful in a fight against forces much bigger than any of us had ever faced.

    It was the middle of the afternoon, the following day after we had ironed out our plans. You¡¯d think we were scrambling, but we had thought this out very thoroughly. Everyone had a place, and everyone had a position. We planned for many different scenarios; the wards wouldn¡¯t seal back after they were broken, Peter wouldn¡¯t be contained, he¡¯d be too strong for us to handle at all, or he wouldn¡¯t show at all. We would all be spread out and in position for him and whoever came with him. If he came.

    We placed a lot of faith in his anger and resentment against our families. We thought that if we could knock down the wards hiding our home, he would sense us in time and make his way to us. It was a gamble.

    When the sun was at its peak in the sky, Frank and I walked out past the border of trees that surrounded the property of our massive home. We entered the shade of the trees with shovels, wrenches, and a blowtorch to where we knew the wardings were buried underground. The outermost barrier was made of our modern silver-steel alloy that CWT Construction had formulated over the last few decades. The pieces were fabricated in our secure warehouse, and the glyphs were laser etched onto them with one of our CNC machines. Once assembled, they formed a physical circle that encompassed our property and stretched a quarter-mile in diameter. When it was set in place, Martin said his thoughts and senses were so scrambled that he could not find the house like he used to; not until he was brought through and integrated into the effect¡­ multiple times. Whenever he would walk in one direction, his orientation would be flipped and spun to lose all sense of self-awareness. The warding was so powerful that it actually surprised my family and our inhuman friends. None of us expected it to be as effective as it was. It took a while for Martin to acclimate, even after being invited.

    The alloy beams were approximately 4 ft below ground, so it took about five minutes for Frank and me to unearth the targeted pieces. The pieces were all bolted together at each end, and the bolts were sealed with a silver solder that filled any space between the threads and holes that might cause the warding to fail or become ineffective. We only needed to remove one piece. Once the seal was broken, the entire warding would fail, and Peter could walk right past it.

    Next, we made our way back out into the sunlight halfway through our backyard. This ward was formed by an older generation of our family that used planks carved from an angel oak tree. The planks were not straight; they were curved and wavy pieces of wood that were joined together using older techniques. The glyphs are the same as they always were, just as they were carved into every blade of silver that my family possessed. The silver held natural effects that weakened most creatures, but imbuing with the same glyphs gave our weapons an added bonus against the beasts of the night. Everything became more effective when using the gypsy¡¯s ancient language. Yet, the angel oak wood was some of the rarest warding material any of our families had come across. We had to separate the pieces we dug up in the backyard very carefully to not damage the aged wood. Once it was dissolved, we left it lying in position, so all we had to do was place it back together, but the joints would not hold anymore. We had a plan for that, as we already had fabricated silver spikes that we could use to repair older wards like these. Once Peter was inside that circle, Kayla would be in this position with a sledgehammer waiting to slam the silver spike through the wooden beams to reactivate our older ward.

    Our last barrier was the oldest and most fragile of the wards. Our best-case scenario was that our innermost ward would keep the home safe from Peter and whatever force he brought with him. This one we would not break. This barrier was very specific and less physical than the other brute-force barriers we had created. We knew where it was located around the outer edge of our house walls, but no one dared touch it, or try and dig it up. I was told by my father, who was told by his father before, that it was made from a unique plant that has been grown in place, plucked from the earth at maturity, and then inverted in the ground where it was buried. My dad told me that the plants continue to grow beneath the surface, and over time created the barrier that initially protected our home. This warding was not built; it was developed, and there were no glyphs to speak of. Even the modern Wicklow family members were not sure how our ancestors knew how to make it. They must have learned about it in their travels, on a hunt, or something.

    We had our plan, we prepared for it, and now we were waiting. I kept calling the Wicklow¡¯s, but there was no answer from anyone. Not even Patrick was answering his phone after he had left our house with his mother. We needed Shelta and Annabelle after we had Peter trapped, but we had already set things in motion.

    ¡°What will we do if your plan doesn¡¯t work, Carter?¡± Charles asked. The eldest vampire returned to help out the family, yet again.

    ¡°If the warding plan fails¡­ then we kill him. If we kill him, then we at least buy more time until he comes back again,¡± I reasoned.

    Autumn never said a word, only cycling the action on her rifle as she prepared her weapon for extensive use. She hoped we¡¯d kill him.

    ¡°Annabelle said that we wouldn¡¯t lose anyone else to him,¡± Eleanor reminded.

    ¡°So that means we have nothing to lose,¡± Autumn said emotionless from behind her sights. She moved robotically and kept honing her weapon, planning to cause as much pain and death as she could.

    ¡°Even so,¡± I added, ¡°sometimes death isn¡¯t as bad as living on after something changes you. Dying is mercy sometimes,¡± I said to everyone, speaking more to Autumn. ¡°Everyone needs to be careful in their positions. Other things could happen...¡±

    Everyone agreed after I spoke the words. Autumn was the only one to stay silent. I wished I knew what was going on in her mind. She was the only one of us that I was actively worried about during this upcoming battle.

    ¡°We have to watch her,¡± I told my wife, quietly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be with her, Carter. I won¡¯t let her do anything that will get her hurt. If I have to, I¡¯ll knock her out and put her someplace safe.¡± Eleanor wanted to do whatever it took to get Sam back as well, but she would not risk our daughter to do so.

    The two outer wards were broken, and now we were playing the waiting game. There were a lot of players hidden around our property, but that made me feel good. I trusted in Annabelle¡¯s words that we wouldn¡¯t lose anyone else against Peter, but part of me was scared. I felt like I could sense something creeping up on us. I had this feeling that something was coming¡­ something none of us had ever faced before. A force that none of our ancestors had ever encountered in their long lives of fighting against the darkest evils in the world.

    I had a small moment with Autumn, Eleanor, Frank, Clara, and Wayland. This was our family¡­ and we were fighting for each other. This enemy wanted nothing more than to kill our whole family. It was personal. We knew what we were fighting for.

 Chapter 56 - Hellscape

    The world never stopped burning, randomly spouting destructive waves of the familiar blood flames through cracks in the earth. They never slowed, fueled by the nightmarish core of¡­ whatever this place was. The air was hot and thick with smothering heat as smoke and steam escaped the same vents of hellfire. Every step was a struggle as the scorching air moved across my face, unforgivingly trying to peel away my flesh. Yet, I continued walking, searching¡­ for anything. I saw many unknown things through my travels.

    Bodies of a similar-looking build to the corpses I first laid eyes on in this hell. They were massive, hulking-looking creatures slightly larger than my inhuman form. They were everywhere, littered sporadically like a wave of murder had washed over the land and stole the life right out of them. They fell where they stood at some point in time, and then the heat and oppressiveness of this world began to consume them.

    My feet burned and charred against the never-cooling ground as I paced across the lifeless frontier. I gritted my teeth through the searing pain of each step, never stopping as I searched for hope. The sharp crags of what almost looked like volcanic rock, protruded out like sawtooth blades, ready to steal whatever life hadn¡¯t been claimed by the fire. This place screamed death. It was the most inhospitable environment I had ever seen or imagined. How had anything ever called this place home? The skeletal remains around me were a sign that it had been at some point, but¡­ what the hell happened to this place? What was this place? Where was I standing?

    Then, something glinted through the haze of heat. Something stuck out of place in this wasteland. I saw some sort of structure out in the distance, through the jagged expanse of the burning world. It was a beacon of hope in this forsaken world. Something to aim for. Fires lingered everywhere, making the figure in the distance a wavy smudge in the rising heat. Still, there were enough gaps in the hellfire that I could find a path through. I could navigate the charred rocky earth to get to the white structure without taking any unnecessary burns. However, the blood-red flames licked against my human form when I had to get close at certain points when the environment didn¡¯t give me any easy options.

    The structure¡¯s image changed in my eyes as I grew closer to its location. The faint figure I thought to be some kind of structure was something else entirely; it was a skeleton. Massive ribs shot out of the smoldering lava-like surface. Whatever the creature had been, it had sunk down into the molten rock where it found an agonizingly painful grave, partially swallowing this creature; then hardened again to anchor the bones in like cement. The ribs towered out of the earth about twenty feet high and were about two feet thick at their widest, forming a cage-like structure that could have been the frames of a two-story trailer house; if such a thing existed. Did it? I pushed the stray thought away.

    Whatever the creature was, it had died on its back. Hints of leg bones barely protruded from the earth at one end of the ribcage while a massive lower jaw jutted from the hardened earth. It formed a small cave-like enclosure where you could hide out of sight from the surrounding flames. Gnarled teeth and fangs still hung onto the frame of the mandible since the moment this behemoth had taken its plunge.

    I ran my hand up the massive rib bone, feeling the petrified surface warm beneath the ragged remains of my palm. That¡¯s when I saw my flesh fading away again, disintegrating into fine ash before rapidly regenerating across my exposed muscles. It was a grotesque cycle of destruction and rebirth. There was no rest here, no respite in this hellhole. I could not escape this world and its extreme elements in any way, shape, or form.

    My body was in a relentless war against the searing hellfire, but I couldn''t shake the gnawing fear that it was losing ground, that something was going wrong. The heat was relentless, burning through me, stripping away layers of my skin and flesh until I could almost see the bones beneath. My teeth ground together, each surge of regeneration was more painful than the last, each fresh coat of skin already a memory as it withered as soon as it set in place.

    I felt a dangerous wobble in my stance, a tremor that crawled through me like a parasite. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind. I knew my monstrous power would keep me alive, I was witnessing it, seeing and feeling it stitch me back together, but that knowledge did nothing to quell the horror rising in my throat. I could see my body being eaten and mangled by the heat, brutalized by this alien place, and I was terrified that something wouldn¡¯t heal right. That I¡¯d be left deformed, scarred, a grotesque shadow of myself, forever marked by this hellish ordeal. My body might never recover perfectly, and the thought of being trapped in this twisted, scarred shell for the rest of my unnatural life was a suffocating, bone-deep fear that I couldn''t shake.

    However, my body was even more overwhelmed with its own ability to regenerate damaged tissues than I had ever witnessed. In this place, the monster displayed far more power than I had witnessed in my few years as this thing. The beast within me had tremendous resiliency that even this hell couldn¡¯t overtake completely. I felt a building power in my core like the beast was surging strength through me while I remained. It didn¡¯t make it easy, but it made it possible. I kept walking, remembering my mindset for when things were hard¡­ left then right, left then right through the pain of the incinerating blood flames.

    I marched past the massive skeletal structure, up the incline of rocks to look beyond the behemoth¡¯s grave. Once I struggled to the top, I saw the expanse that started below¡­it wasn¡¯t just another grave, it was a graveyard. I stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a valley of razor-sharp, rocky crags that were littered with dozens upon dozens of hulking skeletons. They lay in the massive, charred expanse on the other side of the cliff. The same type of skeletal behemoths all lay below in an enormous stretch of smoke and rock. These guys hadn¡¯t been killed by the terrain like I had assumed of the first. These bodies all lay on the surface, not sunken down when the earth had given way to swallow them into the liquid underbelly of this charred world. They died and fell to the ground, where they had rested ever since. I couldn¡¯t see what had killed them since all that was left of them were bones, but something powerful had to have killed these great titans. I didn¡¯t think it was the heat and conditions of this place since there were such varied sizes that seemed to indicate different ages in these corpses. No, it seemed like, at some point, they lived here. Natural denizens of this fucked up land, which was comparable to the surface of the sun; at least that¡¯s how it felt as I stood there. I definitely got the feeling that these creatures were slaughtered in this location. Judging from the sheer size of just one colossus, whatever had killed them had to have been on the same playing field as the one that created me. Only he had the kind of overwhelming power that I would expect it to take to overcome so many beasts like these.

    The journey through the boneyard was an agonizing ordeal, each step dragging me deeper into the belly of the wasteland. The air was thick with smoke and acrid fumes, stinging my eyes and clawing at my throat. The skeletal remains of long-dead beasts loomed around me, their bleached bones scattered across the scorched earth like petrified logs of gargantuan proportions. I stumbled forward, my muscles and ligaments completely exposed on certain portions of my body. Each step sent a jolt of pain through my raw form as my will, and the monster''s strength carried me forward.

    I forced myself to keep moving even as the suffocating heat pressed down on me, weighing on my chest like a monstrous hand. The smell of charred flesh and sulfur hung heavy in the air. The horizon shimmered with waves of heat, and the distant mountains blurred and distorted through the veil of smoke and smog. Every breath burned in my lungs, each inhale like swallowing molten glass. My vision swam as I pushed forward, the fiery haze warping the shapes around me into monstrous figures that seemed to move and shift in the corner of my eye.

    It felt like maybe hours had passed before I reached the edge of the boneyard, though I knew it could have only been minutes¡­ or days. Time was disjointed, a meaningless concept in this hellish place. The last of the skeletal remains lay sprawled behind me, their twisted forms almost blending into the tortured landscape. I glanced back briefly, the white and charred bones barely visible through the churning smoke and flickering tongues of fire that licked sporadically at the ground. My legs trembled with pain; a foreign feeling I had grown accustomed to forgetting but was ever present here. Every movement made my body scream in protest, but I couldn¡¯t stop now. I had to keep going.

    Ahead of me, the wasteland stretched out like a nightmarish vision, an endless sea of charred earth. Cracked, blackened ground split open in jagged fissures that spewed plumes of toxic fumes into the air. Rivers of molten lava snaked through the barren landscape, their bright, searing light casting eerie shadows on the surrounding rocks. The sky above was a billowing, churning mass of dark clouds, shot through with flashes of crimson lightning, and a faded green glow somewhere far in the distance; the dying embers of some great, malevolent fire.

    Fifty yards past the last of the skeletons, I finally paused, my chest heaving, sweat and blood mingling and trickling down my scorched skin. I stood there, swaying on my feet, the wasteland around me a living nightmare of fire and smoke. The air was thick and oppressive, a stifling, cloying blanket of heat and ash that pressed down on me, threatening to crush me under its weight. The cragged rocks shifted and twisted beneath my gaze, the intense heat warping their shapes until they seemed to move and pulse with a life of their own.

    I looked down, watching as the charred, broken ground passed beneath me, every step feeling like an eternity. Each cragged rock, each smoldering patch of earth was a reminder of the hell I was walking through, a hell that seemed determined to break me, to twist and scar me, just as it had twisted and scarred the landscape around me. But I couldn¡¯t turn back¡­ there was nowhere to go. I couldn¡¯t stop. Not while there was still a chance, however small, of finding a way out of this inferno. Going back, or stopping, would be admitting¡­ accepting that this was my end.

    I was so focused on each step that I didn¡¯t realize how far I was from the boneyard. Once I looked back up, I was in the middle of nowhere. I couldn¡¯t see anything in view as I had before. Even the land fell into a flatter and more undescriptive look. The level ground was still littered with hellfire just as before, but there was dust that had been kicked up in the air that kept me from seeing much further than my immediate vicinity. Only tiny embers glowed through the dust and smog, letting me know that there was a world beyond the thick atmosphere that enveloped me. Although that dim green in the clouds seemed brighter here. It seemed lower to the ground, just beyond the storm of dust that surrounded me.

    In the loneliness and despair of that world, I thought of Autumn. I thought of all of them; how much I cared for Autumn, Carter, and their acceptance of me into his whole family. The way Eleanor thought of me like her own son. They all did; the entire Chasse family: Frank, Clara, Wayland, Delilah, Jane, and even Martin¡¯s faces all flashed in my mind¡¯s eye. Every conversation, moment, and relationship I built with them was what I held onto as the incinerating heat grew more intense around me. Would I ever see them¡­ would I ever see Autumn? Caydee¡­ Seth¡­¡­ Vicky?

    I lost track of time in that world, going numb to the outside and living in my head as the monster propelled me forward. I had hit my limit, and my own willpower was extinguished. It took over¡­ and for the first time, I was thankful. I stayed in my mind, in the best moments of my life while the beast kept us moving. I only had a vague sense that we were still moving.

    What I was hoping for now was for Jon to show up and pull me out. He was the only thing¡­ entity, whatever, that I knew could move or pull people through different plains of existence. He was my only hope, but I feared I was lost to even the ominous being I had come to know. He told me that he wouldn¡¯t always be able to save me and that there were places I could be trapped.

    Actually, the more I thought about it, it seemed like Jon knew exactly what would happen. He told me that I¡¯d have to get stronger, and I did. He said I could be trapped, but I wouldn¡¯t die, and here we were. He told me I¡¯d kill Peter, but that was yet to happen. Did the being know that all this would happen to me? Had he seen what I would endure, and know that I would be left stranded here?

    What did I need to do? I still had to kill Peter. I knew I would. I could feel it within me like the monster had it on his mind and wouldn¡¯t stop until he had his talons buried deep inside the gypsy¡¯s body. But how did I get there?

    ¡°Walk,¡± the ominous voice rang out inside of my mind.

    It came out of nowhere and took me by surprise. My mind was thrust back inside of my body, fully conscious and aware. I felt a new surge of motivation and strength inside of me. So, my legs continued as soon as the entity¡¯s dominating voice registered in my mind. It was like I had new energy and direction. He wasn¡¯t there with me but was guiding me somehow. I didn¡¯t have any questions. I trusted him. At that moment, I knew that this realm was not him in any way. But he would help me navigate, and he would show me what had to be done. I knew he was going to drive me to where I needed to be. He wasn¡¯t pulling me out like my body begged to be, but he was showing me the way forward. I followed.

    After a few more hours of burning and regenerating, again and again, I came upon a mountain that shot up high into the sky. The rocky growth extended out further than I could see in either direction, but I could see the top of the cliffs above. Almost breaching the thick blackness of smoke that blanketed the sky, but never touching it. Directly in front of me was a massive opening in the base of the mountain. The missing rock looked like it was some kind of naturally occurring tunnel, smooth and uneven as it twisted into the heart of the mountain.

    I continued, stepping through the opening like an ant walking through a human¡¯s doorway. The shade of the mountain cloaked me from the reddish hue of the flames. It was the first time my flesh tasted relief from the heat. The shade was cooler and more temperate than the outside world. The deeper I walked through the shadows of the darkening cavern, the more I felt my body solidifying and strengthening back to normal. My flesh and muscles mended themselves rapidly in the darkness of the cave. Bones, tendons, ligaments, muscles, everything was covered up again in the shadow of the tunnel. I knelt for a moment, resting on my hands and knees as the pain escaped my mind and body. The supernatural power of my monster returned me to what I was. I felt my body spasming and twitching as so much of me was restored, almost feeling like parts of me were syncing back up to my brain or something.

    I stood from the ground in the low-lit entrance of the mountain, the only light hitting me in the back. The opening that led back into the fiery stretch of mountain-like desert slowly got smaller and darker the further I continued inside the cave. Soon I was in complete blackness, but that was okay. My eyes shifted to match the black of the heart of the mountain, allowing me to see my way through the inner workings of this massive rock growth. It started to remind me of the caverns and tunnels beneath St. Louis. I felt a familiar vibe as I continued through the smoothed stone pathway. Then, a new light appeared in the distance before me, a hungry green.

    A new opening appeared in front of me as I continued through the depths. The light grew brighter and more vibrant as I approached the tunnel exit. I soon realized that I was coming upon a massive chamber at the end of the tunnel. Something was there in that chamber¡­ something alive. I could feel the vibrations of something moving within the room¡­ no not moving¡­ breathing. I heard the hissing breaths suck and escape past the teeth of some beast. The atmosphere in the tunnel moved gently as the exhalation pushed the air of the entire space, almost like the mountain itself was alive.

    I walked through the entrance and into the chamber with no hesitation. My entity led me there, and I knew there was a reason. I wasn¡¯t going to stop, no matter what awaited me within. Even still, when I saw what sat in the chamber¡­ it shocked me beyond words.

    There was a chair¡­ a throne maybe. It was built from bones that were so massive they had to be from the skeletons of the beasts that lay dead out in the fields of hellfire. Ribs, arms, teeth, and spines built a central pedestal that was much larger than any normal man would require. Only¡­ the thing staring out from the throne of bones was no man¡­

    Bright, burning red eyes stared at me from across the chamber as I stepped in. Not the red of a vampire''s eyes¡­ the red like the hellfire outside, like the crimson lighting that streaked across the black sky outside. He held that power within himself as his gaze fell on me with searing power. This¡­ thing sat high in the chair made from titanic skeletons. If he stood up, he might have been around twenty feet tall. His body was scaly and coarse all over, having a color that looked like a dark charred orange. The scales were darker and more pronounced around his joints and areas that housed vital organs, like the jagged rocks of the mountain''s exterior. The most noticeable feature of it was the horns. Spiked white horns protruded out of his skull to form a naturally grown crown of bone spikes. If I could have ever pictured a demon, this is what it would have looked like. Its sharp extended fangs grinned at me as I stepped into the area. An actual chill shot up my spine as I stood under its massive form, within its gaze.

    My eyes darted around quickly inside the void within the mountain. Green fires blazed in twisted, hanging braziers. The metal chains that held them in the air were bolted to the rock ceiling, barely hanging on. The eerie flames ate and licked at the small links that held it in suspension, trying to find something to consume. The sickening light cast itself around the chamber, allowing me to take stock of what else lay inside.

    Holes were bored into the sides of the walls around the circular chamber, dark and dry from the inner heat. Where did they go? Then I noticed how similar the bones looked compared to the felled beasts I saw in my travels through the foreign land. A thought popped into my head as I stared into the massive throne of bones; was this the thing that killed all of those great behemoths outside? This looked like a throne room that was built on top of the bodies of its enemies. The bones were trophies of the things it had slain within this realm, and the trophies made up its kingdom within the mountain.

    It opened its mouth to speak, making strange grumbles and exhales that formed something¡­ words of a language too alien for me to comprehend. It spoke a few times, leaning forward out of its towering throne, inspecting me closer. Its eyes seemed¡­ interested. Every time its voice rang out, the mountain itself seemed to tremble, vibrating beneath my feet.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I yelled across the chamber, trying to scream loud enough through the rumbling mountain.

    The demon looked over to a hole in the rock at his left, motioning out towards me. A snarl ripped out from the darkness of the cave, the light of the chamber¡¯s flames not showing me what lay within. Then, a voice appeared in my head¡­ it was the one sitting in the middle of the room. This voice wasn¡¯t as powerfully dominating as the being from the fields. This voice was darkly twisted with evil intent and malice as it spoke directly inside my head.

    ¡°Peter was right to bring you to me, stranger. Which of my brothers or sisters do you serve?¡± It mentally spoke as its blazing, crimson eyes burned into me with real intrigue.

    As soon as the voice stopped talking in my head, something crawled from one of the holes in the wall. Dark leathery flesh clawed out from the small tunnel as wispy white hair raggedly hung from the nape of its neck. Massive teeth gnashed at the sight of me.

    I recognized it immediately; it was a devourer. It was precisely the same as the beasts from the rooftops that night in the street. The big bottom jaw was a dead giveaway as it approached me on all fours. Snarling growls escaped its mouth, along with the same thick drool I remembered from the others. It wanted me dead.

    I had nothing on me; no silver blade, no clothes, no nothing. I even felt out with my mind to the supernatural weapon that lay just out of reach¡­ but I felt nothing. It was like that tingle in the back of my mind that always alerted me to its presence wasn¡¯t there. Was it this place? Did it cut me off from access to the symbolic weapon Jon had bestowed on me?

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Yet, I never needed any of that. I had my greatest weapon waiting within. I felt it surge against the walls of its cage the moment it saw the creature sitting on the throne, and then again when the horned devil spoke within my mind. My monster wanted out¡­ bad.

    When the devourer lunged forward off of some jagged rocks beneath its hole, the beast in me lashed out violently. I met the devourer¡¯s skull with fully extended talons, severing its spine at the base of the skull. I didn¡¯t decapitate it entirely as the front of its neck was still holding the head close to the beast¡¯s motionless body. It fell out of the air in a thud before it slumped and relaxed its muscles for the last time.

    I turned and gazed my solid black eyes at the one on the pile of bones at the chamber¡¯s center, talons slick with blood. As the blood dripped off each talon to the rocky surface below, it boiled and burnt away from the temperature of the rocks. The place was heating up.

    Within the firelight of the chamber, I stood against another being from a foreign dimension. He eyed me curiously from where he sat, never standing as he motioned again to the same hole in the wall. More devourers appeared from the darkness, about five in total. They circled me as I stood above their dead brethren. The pack of devourers thought I was prey, and the one who sat on the throne thought he could just sic his dogs on me, they were all wrong. I would show them. I felt the cage in my mind open, and my fury was unleashed.

    The transformation was complete before I had even killed the second creature. I moved viciously through the area of the chamber where the fighting took place. They split up as they tried to attack me from all sides like a pack of wolves. When the first one lunged at me and had my attention, the others followed suit to catch me off guard. It was no use.

    My massively growing body muscled every one of them down to the ground in an instant, ripping their insides out and casting them to the scalding floor beneath us. I grabbed one of their skulls with both hands and crushed it with a tight squeeze. It squealed and squirmed beneath my monstrous grip for a moment until the shards of cracked bone impaled whatever brains it had. The rest I just brutalized under the power of my unstoppable blows. The hard and jagged rocks all around us were the perfect utensils to help me quickly rip the beasts to ribbons. The rocky chamber was a perfect giant meat grinder, allowing me to slaughter them all.

    In mere moments, I found myself standing in my fully transformed state, a colossal figure looming over the bloody jaggs of rock inside the chamber. My muscles bulged with the unnatural power, veins pulsing like cables beneath my skin. Each breath felt like it expanded my lungs to impossible proportions as the beast was fully unleashed. No more fucking around. But then, I sensed something¡­ different.

    It was as if the beast within me revealed¡­ more. Its raw, violent energy crackled through my cells. This was no ordinary transformation. I felt it in every fiber of my being¡ªa surge of unrestrained power that sent my gargantuan heart pounding against my ribs. My flesh tingled and twitched, spasms of growth rippling through my body as if I were being sculpted anew; into a form I had neither felt nor imagined. I felt my bones creak and stretch, sinew and muscle knitting themselves into denser, more potent shapes. My perspective shifted upward as my limbs lengthened and thickened. I was growing

    I watched with awe as my monstrous hands expanded, claws thickening and curving like obsidian scythes, each finger now large enough to crush boulders into dust. My shoulders broadened, my spine arching as new layers of muscle piled on top of each other. I could feel the sheer weight of my own flesh, the ground beneath my feet cracking and splitting as if struggling to support the immense bulk where my two feet were standing. My charcoal-colored flesh darkened more, turning as black as shadows on my exterior, leaving the original grey in the creases of joints.

    I was growing, and it felt like my entire being was caught in a violent upheaval, each moment stretching me further and further. In seconds, my monster had doubled in size, towering inside the chamber like a living colossus. I glanced down, and the boiling innards I once stood beside now seemed pitifully small, the jagged stone like mere pebbles scattered around my massive feet. The sensation was intoxicating¡­ every surge of growth made me feel more powerful, more unstoppable. I was becoming something even more¡­ monstrous!

    The burning orange eyes were wide at the sight of me once I was entirely transformed. The demon-looking creature stood from its pile of bones. I could feel a power in the area growing as the stone structure around us began to vibrate. The low-lit flames of green that had given us light inside of the mountain were burning brighter than before.

    ¡°I see now why he could not take you,¡± the thing spoke in my mind. ¡°He could never take you¡­ brother!¡± His words dripped with recognition and familiarity.

    I clenched my massive jaws as he spoke, feeling the weight of his mental words pressing on my mind. I should have wanted to rip forward and kill, but even the beast inside me felt more controlled. I wanted answers, and this mother fucker¡­ knew something.

    ¡°I thought you dead¡­ we all felt you wiped from existence¡­ you¡­ the eldest¡­ the strongest¡­ yet here you stand¡­ in this meager form!¡± He spat mockingly like he was unimpressed with my new, massive size. ¡°Where have you been all this time?¡±

    I heaved out an angry breath, snarling at the alien entity that stood before me.

    He spoke aloud again. I had no idea what it was supposed to mean, but it was a long-drawn-out exhale of a word that drug on like a bellowing horn. It sounded like a grumbled, ¡°Myoordrakien.¡± It was more of a guttural snap of noise from his fanged maw, a primal language that I was unfamiliar with. He looked upon me after making the noise, waiting for a reaction maybe. His eyes burned with intent, waiting for something. Moments passed and his face changed. Then, he spoke in my mind again, ¡°You know nothing of whom you serve¡­ do you boy?¡±

    In the heat of the moment, I didn¡¯t question it, but I spoke with my mind, ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±

    The creature laughed at me from his throne, bellowing twisted amusement throughout the chamber.

    ¡°I am your only hope. Your sole salvation to continue your worthless life. My brother¡­ was killed eons ago. It¡¯s what sparked the fall of the Primevals¡­ what your pathetic excuse of a mind thinks it knows as¡­ Ancients. We are beyond ancient... you child! The fractional remnant of my eldest brother''s power resides in you somehow¡­ but it won''t be enough for you to survive!¡± Its mental voice was angry, sickened with the idea of even having to look at me in possession of this power. ¡°He was once the greatest of us¡­ the strongest. He was destruction¡­ unbridled rage¡­ doom itself in the first era. None of us dared enter his domain. But now¡­ look at you¡­¡± he wasn¡¯t speaking to me but to the remnants of the power he spoke about. He laughed at what he saw as pathetic.

    His hellfire eyes bored into my blackened form, searching for something within. He could sense things about me¡­ no not me, the monster within. He was feeling for something, and his eyes gave him away. He didn¡¯t understand the power I had inside of me. He didn¡¯t know how this was possible. But he had greed in his eyes. It was unexpected, but potent in the moments inside the chamber. An ancient avarice that told a story in itself. He wanted something I had.

    ¡°Accept service under my power and I will let you leave my realm; back to your world as one of my heralds. Deny me¡­ and I will end you¡­ and what is left of my brother!¡±

    Then¡­ thoughts emerged in my mind. Power. The balance of power that Jon, my entity talked about¡­ this thing was making a play for it. It didn¡¯t feel like he could just take it. I think I had to accept his offer, to willingly give myself over to his power. Like¡­ like how I had to accept becoming this thing to fully embrace the beast and allow my predecessor to pass on. In those moments, I didn¡¯t know what was going to happen. Thoughts of my whole life flashed before my monstrous eyes. I felt an old feeling creeping up on me. Death was near¡­ it might be possible¡­ finally. This thing was beyond me, and the power I felt raging inside. I wasn¡¯t sure I could win in a fight, or even touch this guy, but I wanted to try. I wanted to swing my claws through his fucking head. But¡­ I sensed it. This thing was prepared to wipe me out¡­ to kill me. I couldn¡¯t fight this thing and live¡­ not on my own.

    I gritted my teeth and spoke out loud with my booming monstrous voice, ¡°Fuck you!¡±

    He snarled in rage as he stood in front of the skeletal throne. His eyes shifted, burning with the intense green of the flames around him. This was the power Peter displayed¡­ the power of his patron. This was ancient power¡­ the power of a Primeval.

    It seemed like he was preparing for one massive attack to end me before I could close the gap between us. His glowing green irises bore holes into me as we stood in our locked gaze.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you!¡± I roared; fangs bared in fury. It was a final surge of strength before what felt like an inevitable end. The words spilled out unbidden as if the beast within me had spoken for itself. It knew this creature. It had faced it before, from another time.

    I stepped forward instinctively, approaching to attack. My dark hide, black eyes, and talons lurched forward on a massive frame toward the horned creature. We were two giants inside of some kind of underground colosseum, about to throw down.

    He was taller than me, but I knew that it didn¡¯t matter. His muscular frame looked like it would decimate his prey. He held a massive leg bone from one of the creatures of the wastes. It was honed and sharpened to form the shape of a simple-looking sword, deadly but basic in form. Yet, the way he held it told me something. This creature, the king of this boneyard, did not want me to come any closer. He had a rage in his eyes but a defensive nature to his stance. It was like he was waiting to see what I¡¯d do. As if¡­ he could sense something that he was unsure about, something he hadn¡¯t said.

    I roared and leaped through the air to him, trying as hard as I could to close the gap and sink my talons into his scaly flesh. I felt the monster inside of my mind, fully taking over. It wanted to end the beast of this cave. I felt a force pushing me towards him like somehow if I did kill him, it would right many wrongs; bring balance back in a way that was needed for a long time.

    As soon as my right hand contacted his shoulder, my talons cut through his thickly scaled hide and revealed the blood of the blackest variety. It almost looked like motor oil pouring out of his flesh. An audible snarl escaped from the creature for the first time. I only heard it for a moment, and then I was in flames.

    Green flames erupted all over my body, and I felt an explosive force send a shockwave out in all directions. My massive frame struck the side of the chamber, disintegrating stone as I drilled through the mountain. My flesh and bones were pummeled by stone as I felt the force driving me further and further away from the creature, after drawing its blood. Somehow, the mountain seemed to almost move as I rocketed away in a streak of sick flames. A crevice was created to expel me from the mountain.

    In a few moments, I felt the cold slicing stones disappear and I was airborne. The force faded, and my body could breathe again. I was in the air for only moments before my enormous body landed back on the ground, carving through the land, and blasting away rock as I barreled to a stop.

    I heard a deep, guttural rumble as I struggled to my feet, my body aching from the impact. Turning, I caught sight of movement, but what greeted my eyes was beyond comprehension. The very mountain once thought to be an unmoving sentinel of stone, began to shift and rise. The ground quaked beneath such massive change. Boulders and shattered cliffs tumbled from its sides as if the earth itself were shedding a false skin. The mountain was moving¡­ no, standing up.

    A colossal form emerged from the earth, its rocky surface breaking away to reveal an immense figure buried for ages, camouflaged by stone and time. It was a titan, a behemoth whose size defied belief, its silhouette looming high against the charred, smoke-choked sky. Its body was a labyrinth of petrified bones and jagged rock, a skeletal colossus draped in the semblance of a mountain. Sickly green flames licked up from its joints, pouring from its hollow eye sockets and gaping maw, spreading like a plague across the scorched land.

    The air itself seemed to tremble with its emergence, the sheer weight of its presence casting a shadow that stretched across the land of flames and death, engulfing everything in its terrible dominion. I could feel the heat of the sickly fire as it surged outward, igniting the ground in a web of ghostly flame that consumed everything in its path. The twisted green inferno spread like a tainted river, its light flickering across the landscape in a sickening glow, as the titan¡¯s monstrous frame rose higher and higher, scraping the heavens with its towering form.

    The realization hit me like a hammer. The creature I had fought, the one who had sat upon the throne, was merely a fragment of this monstrous entity, a mere extension of the true horror that had lain dormant beneath the mountain¡¯s facade. It was not a king in a throne room, but a harbinger, a vessel for something far greater and more terrifying than I could have ever imagined. The mountain was not a throne¡­ it was camouflage, now shattered and undone, and the true form of this entity had been revealed. This Primeval had risen.

    ¡°You choose annihilation¡­ then you shall have it.¡± The voice of the Primeval rumbled through the air like the toll of a world¡¯s end. It raised its gargantuan arms, each one as wide as the tallest peaks, fingers like mountain ranges clawing at the sky. The air trembled as a maelstrom of sickly green fire gathered above its head, swirling and coalescing into an immense sphere of flame. It grew larger and larger, an inferno so vast it seemed to consume the very horizon, its toxic light casting a sickening glow over the entire world.

    The blazing mass dwarfed anything I had ever seen, a blinding sun of searing green fury that hung in the sky, its radiance banishing the shadows and smoke that had suffocated the land. For the first time since I had arrived in this forsaken place, the entirety of the world was revealed to me, laid bare under the terrible light of that unholy sun. Mountains and valleys stretched out like scars on the earth, every jagged rock and twisted tree illuminated in ghastly clarity. The land was marred with tracks. They were the tracks of where this ancient entity had been as it walked this lifeless wasteland, whenever it decided to move.

    I could feel the overwhelming power radiating from the Primeval, a force so immense it made the ground quake beneath me, the very air heavy with its malevolence. It was as if the weight of the universe itself had settled on my shoulders, pressing down with an inevitability that crushed the breath from my lungs. There was no escaping it, no running from this doom that loomed above me like the hand of a wrathful god.

    The sickly fire seethed and churned, its surface roiling with the energy of a thousand storms, its heat scorching the air even from miles away. The sky itself seemed to shrink away from its presence, the clouds evaporating under the sheer intensity of its flame. I felt so small, so pitifully insignificant before this apocalyptic force, a mere speck in the shadow of a creature so vast it defied comprehension.

    And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, the Primeval brought its arms down, the colossal sphere of flame following in its wake, descending like a falling star. The sky screamed as it hurtled toward the earth, the air igniting in its wake, and I knew with a bone-deep certainty that this was my end. There was no surviving this. This was annihilation incarnate, a doom that no flesh and blood being could withstand. I braced my own titanic form, every muscle tensed against the inevitable, but it was like trying to hold back the tide with my bare hands.

    The world seemed to stop as that terrible sun of green fire descended, its light growing brighter and brighter, consuming everything in its path. This was it¡­ the end of everything. My end.

    ¡°RISE AND TAKE MY BLADE!¡± The ominous voice of my own haunting entity commanded me from the fields. The words came with a surge of power and clarity that I didn¡¯t question as I obeyed.

    Then, I felt it. Where it had been hidden before, I felt the tingle in the corner of my awareness, even in this monstrous form. The blade¡­ the weapon, Jon¡¯s rifle¡­ my knife was there again. With my massive black hand, I reached out into the void and grabbed the weapon. It shimmered into view, sending an aura of dread across the land. The power it emanated withered the power that was descending upon me. Its form massive enough to match my new size and power. I stood tall with my blade of dark power, clutching it like it was an extension of my own body.

    The green sun shrunk, dimmed, and fell off completely as the titan watched its attack fail. Its power was eaten up and stolen by the hungry force of the glinting blade, the symbols, and names carved along its length blazing with heat as power surged from somewhere.

    The colossal titan¡¯s fiery green eyes widened in shock and disbelief, their molten depths flickering with something far more unsettling than fear. ¡°You¡­ you are not my brother¡­ you are the thief¡­ the murderer who stole our world¡­ our power!¡± His inner voice, like the grinding of boulders, was laced with rage and horror, trembling under the weight of the dark force radiating from me and the blade I wielded.

    The blade pulsed in my grip, and suddenly a surge of power erupted from its core, a black torrent that swept across the land like a shadowed tide. The darkness expanded outward, consuming everything in its path, suffocating the sickly green flames and snuffing out what little light dared to remain in this hellish landscape. The world around us fell into a shrouded silence. There was an oppressive gloom that seemed to drink in the very essence of life itself.

    It swarmed over me, a living shroud of void and oblivion, wrapping itself around my form and seeping into my being. I felt my body changing again, expanding and growing vast and terrible, my figure towering into the blackened sky. I became an avatar of shadow, cloaked in darkness that writhed and twisted like a storm of nightmares. The blade in my hand grew with me, its edge lengthening and curving with a vicious elegance, a weapon of the void itself, hungry and malevolent.

    I stood above the titan, a looming specter of darkness, my shadow engulfing him, a blot against the dim light of this forsaken world. His once mighty form, a thing of rock and bone, now seemed almost small beneath the vastness of my entity¡¯s presence. The air was heavy with suffocating dread.

    But there was more than just the monstrous fury that had always dwelled within me. I felt another presence, ancient and overwhelming, intertwining with my soul. It was not the monster, no¡­ it was something far more profound. A being whose essence seeped into my mind, whispering in voices that echoed from the abyss. For the first time, the entity was with me, its power surging through my veins, imbuing me with a portion of its boundless might. I was no longer just a vessel of rage and wrath; I was something else, something more.

    I felt its influence pouring into me, filling every corner of my being with a cold, consuming darkness that seemed to bend reality itself. I could sense the despair, the terror rippling through the titan as he gazed up at me, dwarfed by my shadow, his world crumbling beneath my gaze. The entity¡¯s power was vast, fathomless, a well of darkness deeper than the abyss; this was a fraction of it that it granted me to wield.

    ¡°You¡­ you cannot be here¡­ there are laws¡­ rules! You shouldn¡¯t be allowed in¡­¡± the green-eyed Primeval mentally screamed, until it realized something. It shook its massive skull, anger in its heart. ¡°Peter¡­ you stupid human. You fool¡­ what have you done? What have you carried into my world?¡±

    I moved, not with flesh and bone, but with an otherworldly fluidity that defied the laws of the material plane. My blade sliced through the air in a seamless, ghostly arc, phasing through the titan¡¯s massive form like a specter of death. It didn¡¯t cut or tear his flesh¡­ it devoured him. As the blade passed through his colossal body, it consumed everything in its path, unraveling the very fabric of his being.

    The titan¡¯s towering frame shuddered, a moment of grotesque stillness before his immense bulk began to crumble. His face twisted into a mask of agony and confusion; the hollow eyes that once glowed with ancient power were now dull with disbelief. He couldn¡¯t comprehend what was happening, couldn¡¯t grasp the nature of the force that had just undone him. It was as if the very essence of his existence was being erased, stripped away by something that transcended this realm.

    With an enormous roar that shook the plains of rock and fire, the behemoth toppled, his vast body breaking apart as it fell, shattering the ground beneath him. The echo of his collapse rippled through the land, a tremor that seemed to resonate with the finality of it all. His once indomitable presence was reduced to nothing more than a ruinous heap of sundered stone and bone, a monument to the absolute power that had claimed him.

    There was no pause, no hesitation, no mercy. The entity moved through me, its will as cold and unyielding as the void. It was a force beyond reason, beyond any mortal comprehension¡­ a harbinger of annihilation. The power that coursed through my blade was pure, unrelenting, an abyssal hunger that consumed all before it. It wasn¡¯t just death; it was obliteration, a force that denied the very concept of existence.

    The air fell frigid across this once fiery land, the warmth of life snuffed out by the enveloping power of the entity from the fields. Its influence spread like a blight across the land. I could feel the chill settling into the marrow of my bones, a cold so deep it seemed to freeze the soul itself. The world around me dimmed, shadows lengthening as the darkness grew more profound, swallowing the light, swallowing any hope for this place.

    This was the entity¡¯s will¡­ absolute, unbreakable. The titan¡¯s fall was merely the beginning, a prelude to the annihilation that followed. And I stood at the center of it, the blade in my hand still humming with that dark, terrible power that still hungered to consume.

    I turned my gaze to the horizon, and what I saw was a sight that defied all comprehension. A world unraveling before my eyes. The earth itself quaked as fissures split open like festering wounds, the ground crumbling away in vast sheets that tumbled into an endless abyss. Mountains fractured and collapsed, their peaks dissolving into dust, swallowed by the relentless darkness that bled outward from the blade. The void seeped through the cracks, devouring everything in its path with a cold, merciless hunger.

    It was as if the earth itself was being torn asunder, unraveling into threads that were plucked and consumed by the abyssal power emanating from the blade. The sky above fractured like glass, great shards of darkness splintering the heavens as they were sucked down into the yawning chasm below. A distant, eerie wail echoed through the collapsing world, the death cry of a realm falling into oblivion.

    As the darkness crept closer, the ground beneath me began to splinter, the very stones disintegrating into fine powder that was swept away into the churning blackness. The world was collapsing inward, folding into itself as the power of the entity expanded, reaching out to claim everything it touched. The remnants of this primeval place, this world that had hidden the ancient titan for so long, were being erased, its very existence obliterated.

    The void swallowed all in its path, leaving nothing but a desolate emptiness in its wake. There would be no trace of this place, no memory of the life that had once thrived here. It was as though this world had never been, as if it had only been a fleeting dream now consumed by the entity''s unyielding will. I could feel its presence approaching, a formless shadow that pressed in from all sides, suffocating, oppressive, cold as death itself. Everything would die. Everything would be forgotten. And then, there would only be the void.

    Then, a different force, from another direction, snatched me from encroaching doom. In an instant, all the power of the being, all the strength of the monster¡­ it all vanished. I was ripped away, pulled through a tight squeeze into the blackness that swallowed my mind.

 Chapter 57 - Dark Truths

    An unknown amount of time passed before I sensed anything again. The first thing I felt to wake me was the dominating power I had come to know. The oppressive force that pinned me down like a cat caught beneath a freight train. My eyes flew open at the feeling of the entity¡¯s presence. When I opened my eyes again, I saw a familiar sight. The dark shadow-cast forest on the outskirts of the fields hung above me. My body was half sunk into the loose soil of the forest floor. Massive roots crawled away from the gigantic pale trees all around me.

    ¡°I told you that you could be trapped in other places,¡± the entity stood over me, still presenting himself as Jon, the former monster.

    I stood quickly to my feet to meet him. I was a little frazzled honestly at where I was standing since the last thing I remembered was standing in a world being eaten by the void.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ thanks for the help,¡± I said, exhaling, thankful that it was over. Violent flashes and images ripped behind my eyes. Everything that happened in that world was so loud, so distorted.

    Its voice came out monotone as usual, ¡°Take this as a lesson. There are other places like the one you were just in. If you end up in one unintentionally, you could be trapped like you felt initially. Specific things need to be in place for us to do what we did. I¡¯m not faulting you¡­ since this plan has been set in motion for lifetimes. Cut and pruned by your predecessors to be executed by you in your time as my herald.¡± The entity smiled¡­ disturbingly like it was trying to force a look that came naturally to human beings. He looked like a robot reading the definition of a smile, trying to imitate it. ¡°It is nice to see well-laid plans come to fruition.¡±

    ¡°So this¡­ all this was part of it? To kill Peter¡¯s Primeval¡­ his benefactor?¡± I asked, snapping my mind back from the grand scale of everything that had just happened, to my home. Back to my smaller life, and my friends. ¡°Can I kill Peter now? Will it stick this time?¡±

    The entity nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±

    I waited for more¡­ but he remained silent. ¡°Are you going to explain anything about what just happened there? Did we¡­ did we destroy a whole world?¡± My mind was struggling to fathom the immensity of the things I saw taking place. Things that I would have never imagined or dreamed. ¡°Why did it call me brother? It was like it knew¡­¡± I looked down at my body and touched my chest, which was fully healed. ¡°It was like he knew this thing inside of me¡­¡± I trailed off, replaying the words that were spoken inside of my mind.

    The entity stopped looking at me and began to pace around between the looming dark woods. ¡°Now that you have firsthand knowledge, I may speak more freely.¡±

    I stood there waiting, but he never spoke again. I was confused. Didn¡¯t he just say he was about to spill his guts on this shit? ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°You must ask specific questions. I can answer questions that are allowed, but I cannot just spill my guts.¡± He answered like he knew my thoughts.

    ¡°That thing was a Primeval¡­ what is that?¡± was the first thing I thought to ask.

    ¡°Primevals were creatures of specific power and purpose. They hold great power; aspects of the world itself. Their time was set for when the world was young. Each Primeval held a domain, a center point to control forces that were¡­ natural for them to wield.¡± The being paced circles around me as he spoke, like a predator circling its prey. ¡°When their time ended, they did not want to surrender the power they were granted.¡±

    ¡°That thing¡­ he called you a thief¡­ murderer of their world? Why?¡±

    He stopped pacing and stood still, looking straight at me. ¡°Because¡­ when they wouldn¡¯t give up what they had, I came for it. That is when they all began to hide.¡± The entity began pacing again, continuing with his calculated explanation. ¡°He sensed within you, the power of the first Primeval to fall. Your language doesn¡¯t have the reach to encompass its full name, but I believe you heard it, and your brain registered it as, Myoordrakien.¡±

    That name sent chills down my spine as we talked beneath the trees. I said it in my head, over and over again. I felt the monster shift inside me, almost in recognition or something.

    ¡°So this thing¡­ this monster I turn into is¡­ a Primeval?¡± It was world-shaking. I knew I had something dark in me¡­ but this¡­ this was something I was not prepared for. Something more powerful and more dangerous than I ever could have imagined.

    ¡°Yes, but it is a mere fraction that I allow you to contain. He was the first of your kind¡­ the first to do my bidding in your world.¡±

    At those words, the black forest seemed to disappear as Jon was no more. His body shifted to black and grew to towering heights. I was a speck of dust in the presence of something greater. This was not the form of the entity¡­ it was the form of the first Primeval¡­ Myoordrakien.

    The sky split open with a deafening crack of thunder, jagged forks of lightning briefly tearing through the blackness, revealing the nightmare before me. In that fleeting flash, I saw it¡­ a colossal shadow that blotted out the horizon. For a heartbeat, its form was revealed, and terror gripped me. Towering black, craggy scales rose like mountains into the storm-darkened sky, vast wings spreading wide as if they could consume the heavens themselves. Their unfurling was a threat, their vastness an omen of doom, swallowing the light until the world beneath was drowned in suffocating darkness.

    Its talons¡­ monstrous, blackened spikes of bone that speared into the earth like blades driven into flesh. They anchored its enormous bulk, though it moved with dreadful ease. On all fours, it was already towering over me like a god of death, yet the dark, primal knowledge crept into my mind¡­ it could stand. It could rise on its hind legs and eclipse the world itself. This was no mere beast, it was ancient, something older than fear itself. A creature born from the very fabric of nightmares.

    Every inch of it screamed violence. Its body was a fortress of jagged, lethal angles, a living weapon, every spike and scale designed to destroy. Thick, sinuous tentacles, sheathed in razor-edged scales, writhed down its back like prehensile cables, alive with dark intent. They bristled with malice, each one poised to lash out and tear the forest from its roots, to shred anything in its path with brutal efficiency.

    Its maw remained closed, but the silence was somehow more terrifying than any roar. It didn¡¯t need to open its jaws to assert its dominance. Its mere presence crushed me beneath an invisible weight, my insignificance laid bare. Black, soulless orbs sat deep in its skull, each the size of a towering building. Those eyes¡­ they weren¡¯t just looking at me. They consumed me, hollow voids that swallowed hope and breathed annihilation. Inside the emptiness of those endless eyes, a single command reverberated from them and into my mind. Primal and absolute. KILL.

    Then, as soon as the next flash of lightning lit up the nightmare, it was gone, and I could breathe again. The entity didn¡¯t form in front of me, but its voice spoke like he was right there.

    ¡°He was the first to enact my will. The only of his brothers and sisters to submit to their purpose. When he bowed to his death, that¡¯s when I came up with a plan. The other Primevals fled, using the power they would not release to create hidden places, worlds, and plains of existence to hide from their fate. I cannot go into those places on my own. But someone else could, given the right circumstances. So¡­ Myoordrakien, the first Primeval, the embodiment of annihilation became my hand. He wanted things the way they were meant to be, as was his original purpose. To kill¡­ to destroy¡­ to prune the growth of the world and make way for the next wave of life. He saw his sibling''s revolt as a direct opposition to his work¡­ all the work to be done.¡±

    The world around me suddenly shifted, reality twisting and warping with such violent speed that the ground vanished beneath my feet. One moment I stood amidst the thick shadows of the forest, and the next, I was thrust atop a colossal cliff. The disorientation struck like a hammer, but I steadied myself, gasping as I took in the scene before me. Vast, endless fields sprawled out in every direction, stretching beyond sight like a sea of silent, untouched land. It was breathtaking and yet eerily still, as if time itself had stopped.

    Then, from the crushing silence, a voice emerged from behind me, rich with ancient authority.

    ¡°Yet the work was vast, and much was still required. It took too long, the Primevals proving to be elusive and hard to pin down. My chosen could not walk the earth anymore, its power growing too great. After he killed a select few of its brothers and sisters, we had to make adjustments. To kill the Primevals, we still needed Myoordrakien, but he could not be in your world anymore. He was growing too strong. So I brought him here.¡±

    As I turned, my breath caught in my throat, and my gaze fell upon a sight that twisted my stomach with terror. A crater, vast as an ocean, carved deep into the earth. But this was no tranquil sea. Instead of water, it housed the decaying, monstrous remains of a titan, a corpse so immense it defied reason. Its broken body stretched endlessly, rib bones the size of mountains jutted from desiccated flesh, jagged and cruel, spearing upward toward the sky like a forest of skeletal spires. The ground around it seemed to have withered beneath the weight of its death, cracked and dry, as though the land itself had been drained of life.

    The titan¡¯s length sprawled toward the horizon, disappearing into the distance, its bulk too great for my eyes to comprehend in full. Its flesh, once thick and powerful, had turned to leathery husks, split in places where the bones tore through, like sharpened blades trying to escape the rotting prison of its own body. The air was thick with the sickly stench of decay, mingling with an oppressive silence that made every inch of me scream to run, yet I could not tear my eyes away.

    And then, at the center of this grave of bones and ruin, I saw it; an opening, a gaping wound in the petrified flesh, oozing with ancient malice. From within, something pulsed. An ominous red glow emanated from deep inside. Its rhythm slow and deliberate, like the beat of a massive, cursed drum. It wasn¡¯t just a light. It was alive. The titan was still alive, its heart still beating, thudding with the force of ages long forgotten.

    Every pulse sent a tremor through the air, vibrating the very ground beneath my feet, each beat a reminder of the monstrosity¡¯s lingering power. That grotesque heart, lodged within the decaying titan¡¯s chest, radiated malevolent energy that pressed against my mind, filling me with dread beyond words. It was as if the corpse itself still hungered, still thirsted for destruction¡­ for death; and the heart was the center of that insatiable craving.

    A figure emerged from the shadows, materializing before me. It was a man, but not just any man. He looked as if he had stepped out of time itself, from an ancient and forgotten world. His light brown skin was etched with intricate tattoos, symbols whose meanings had long since been lost. Piercings adorned his face and body in patterns that hinted at rituals and beliefs long buried. His eyes were black as midnight. They matched the darkened void I had glimpsed in my own reflection before a transformation¡­ as the beast clawed at my mind. Those eyes carried a weight, a darkness familiar to me.

    ¡°New deals were made. New people to bear the burden of being my hand in this world,¡± the entity''s voice echoed through him, hollow and dispassionate. His mouth moved, but the voice did not belong to the man. It belonged to the entity.

    Without warning, his form shifted. His features melted away, reconfiguring into a woman. Her face, though equally ancient, bore the hallmarks of a different time, a different place. Her clothing was ornate, with symbols and styles from a culture I could not place, but it was clear she, too, was marked by the same curse. Her eyes, black as the first man''s, locked onto mine. They were a mirror to the abyss that threatened to consume me.

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    "Every bearer," she began, but her form twisted again, this time into an elderly man, frail and withered with age. His skin sagged over his bones, but his eyes, still that same endless black, held the same lifeless gaze. His voice was monotone, unchanged despite the transformation. "There is always one, in every age, to carry out the duty."

    The figure began to shift faster now, the transitions between faces and bodies becoming a blur. I saw people from all walks of life¡­ warriors, royalty, peasants, shamans¡­ each with the same inky voids where their eyes should have been. Their expressions remained eerily calm as they passed before me, their faces becoming indistinguishable from one another, yet each was unique, a different person. Every one of them bore the same burden, a piece of the monster inside. I watched as the faces multiplied. Men, women, young, old, their features dissolving into one another like shadows. Some wore ornate jewels and cloaks, others the rough garb of the earth, but the blackness in their eyes tied them together, revealing their shared fate.

    These were the ones who had come before me. The predecessors. Their names, once carved into the blade I carried, now danced before my eyes in living, shifting forms. I was not merely looking at faces¡­ I was witnessing the weight of countless lifetimes, the horror of the task they had been forced to endure. The curse they had carried. And then, the shifting stopped. The figure settled into one final form. Jon, my direct predecessor. His familiar face, now tainted with the same blackness in his eyes, stared back at me.

    "Every single one of you has housed a portion of him within yourselves, passing from one to the next," Jon said, his voice low and foreboding as he pointed beyond me, out into the crater. My gaze followed his hand, dread creeping up my spine. He was pointing directly at the pulsing, red heart of the first Primeval.

    ¡°Is that why¡­ Is that why I feel it all the time? Why it craves death¡­ why it¡¯s only satisfied by killing people?¡± I asked as the terrible realization hit me. ¡°Because what¡¯s in me is¡­ that thing?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± was all Jon said.

    I shook my head¡­ in relief. The answer. The very thing I had searched for my whole time as this cursed being¡­ it was right here. I had something so ancient and so destructive inside me that I would never have figured it out in this world with the sliver of knowledge that these people in this time had. It was a truth that was on a whole other scale¡­ and what it would even mean¡­ I don¡¯t know. But¡­ somehow¡­ I felt calm. I felt a peace settle over me as the realization hit. I couldn¡¯t explain it, and I didn¡¯t want to. I just stood there on the cliff, staring out at the great expanse, and watched the red light pulse from within the behemoth''s corpse.

    ¡°The monster gives you power, the blade gives you a connection to me, in this place. Which, is how we killed the Unseen.¡±

    "The Unseen? The Primeval?" I asked, a sinking feeling tightening in my gut. I could sense a flood of information looming, something I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to know.

    His words were measured, and deliberate, like he was unspooling some ancient, forbidden truth. "The true name of that Primeval is unimportant. What it did to the world, throwing things off balance is what mattered. When people like Peter... or Mucia... reach out into the void, seeking power beyond their means, it¡¯s usually the Unseen who answers. He had immense strength within his own realm, as you saw, and through those who submit to his will, he magnifies their abilities in the living world. But it''s a twisted gift. His influence causes untold chaos, disrupting the order¡­ the balance. He had many in your world that served him, and they were pruned precisely to only one. If any others survived¡­ the threat of his power growing in a human, and reforming remains. This is why it takes centuries¡­ eons to kill a Primeval. One must wipe out every branch of power that extends from them first, before felling the tree."

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°I thought a Primeval could only have one¡­ like you¡­ like me?¡±

    ¡°We are different¡­ and I believe I told you once already. I am no Ancient¡­ which in turn would mean, I am not a Primeval.¡± Jon¡¯s eyes were cold orbs of void and detachment.

    He turned his head slowly, his expression dark. ¡°I cannot reach into dimensions, not directly. The only reason you gained entry was because Peter Grimwood took you there himself. He had the power¡­ the connection to the Unseen¡¯s corruption. He was given the ability to traverse between your world and his. He got us in, but it was the power of Myoordrakien that allowed you to survive. To keep you moving in that world long enough to find the Primeval hiding there.¡± He turned to face me again. ¡°When I was ready, when everything was in place, that¡¯s when I spoke to you, and you pulled the blade.¡±

    I remembered his words. They cut through existence itself as I prepared to die before the domineering power of the Unseen. Its green orb of flames blotting out the sky above me, on its way to eat my life force away.

    ¡°The blade, once pulled from the void, allowed me access to bleed into that plain¡­ into its very realm. Once the door was open, he had nowhere to hide. His power, finally returned as it all should be.¡± Jon clenched his fist tightly, satisfaction was evident as one of the only emotions I ever witnessed on the entity¡¯s mask.

    ¡°So¡­ we just keep doing that? Slip into their world, pull the blade, and let you wipe them out? Then we¡¯re done?¡± I had a glint of hope shoot through me as the thought of just doing a rinse-and-repeat kind of deal would end this set of circumstances.

    Jon actually laughed at me¡­ the second emotion I ever saw. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was another forced emotion or not. Either way, this guy was turning into a real living, breathing, sarcastic asshole.

    ¡°If only it were that easy, Sam. As I already said, this is a battle over lifetimes, we must prune their energy¡­ their lifelines that are stretched out to individuals across the world. Then we must gain access to them. You will not see all of them wiped out¡­ but there is other work you will do. The Primevals are not the only threat¡­ just the oldest.¡±

    "What else is there?" I asked, my voice sharp with frustration, irritated that my plan to rush through this cursed existence had just been shattered. The weight of it all pressed down on me, my impatience bubbling to the surface, but Jon said nothing.

    He didn¡¯t even turn to look at me. Instead, he simply turned his back, his silence like a heavy wall between us. I felt a familiar and unsettling shift in the air, the world bending and twisting around us as if reality itself had been pulled apart. The ground beneath me vanished, and the landscape unraveled in a violent blur of shadows and light.

    Before I could even process it, we were ripped back to the dark forest of pale, bone-white trees. They stretched impossibly tall, their branches clawing at the blackened sky. It was the same place where I had first awakened in this nightmare after watching a world be eaten by darkness. A cold breeze swept through, rustling the dead leaves underfoot.

    Jon remained silent, his figure barely distinguishable in the gloom, but I knew the answer to my question wasn¡¯t coming. His refusal to speak hung in the air like a judgment, and I was left standing there, once again at the mercy of this dark, twisted world. The eerie stillness of the forest pressed in around me, and it became clear that I wasn¡¯t getting an answer. Not here, not now.

    ¡°So, I guess I only have one more question, then,¡± I said, my voice low, already knowing deep down that he wouldn¡¯t answer. Still, part of me hoped he might. He had already told me a metric shit ton of things I hadn¡¯t expected, after all. ¡°What are you?¡±

    He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine with that cold, blank stare that seemed to drain the warmth from the air around us. There was no emotion there, just an eerie emptiness, like looking into the void itself. ¡°You¡¯re almost there¡­¡± His voice was calm, and distant, like he was speaking to someone far away. It held an eerie warning.

    ¡°But I still have to come to that on my own?¡± I repeated what I knew he would say; what he had said before.

    He only nodded once, a slow, deliberate movement that carried the weight of inevitability. For a moment, the silence between us stretched, heavy and oppressive, before he spoke again. ¡°You¡¯ll need clothes for where we¡¯re going.¡±

    I glanced down at the dark shadows pooling around my feet. ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    Without a word, he reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder. His touch was cold, almost electric, and before I could react, everything around me went white. Time seemed to hang there, suspended, until the whiteness began to dissolve, clearing away like fog burning off in the morning sun.

    Suddenly, I was standing inside a house. At first, it didn¡¯t register where I was, but there was something familiar about it, something that tugged at the edges of my memory. Then it hit me. It was Shelta¡¯s house, the place we had all gathered before to see if Shelta could look inside me somehow.

    My clothes had been burned away, scorched to ash in the hell I had endured. They had been torn from me during my transformation, yet when I looked down, I was fully clothed. My usual attire was back as if nothing had ever happened.

    I could hear crying¡­ soft, heart-wrenching sobs that seemed to echo through the walls. My heart pounded in my chest as I moved toward the sound, creeping through the silent house. The moment I stepped into the living room, my breath left me in a sharp, painful gasp. Shelta was there, kneeling over Annabelle¡¯s lifeless body, her form stretched out across the floor like a broken doll. Patrick and his mother were huddled on the couch, their faces streaked with tears, their bodies wracked with silent sobs.

    Something was wrong¡­ horribly wrong. I watched their grief unfold in front of me, but it felt... disconnected. It was as if I were watching a silent movie, the scene playing out without sound. Yet, I could still hear crying. The sound of it was clear, raw with pain, but it didn¡¯t match what I was seeing. Shelta¡¯s face twisted in agony, but her sobs didn¡¯t align with the movements of her body. It was like an echo, a distant memory playing over itself in a loop, and none of it made sense.

    The difference between what I saw and what I heard gnawed at me, a creeping realization that this wasn¡¯t real. It couldn¡¯t be. But the pain, the grief... it felt all too real. I stood frozen, unable to look away as my mind screamed for answers.

    ¡°Shelta¡­ what happened?¡± I asked, even though I knew what had to have happened.

    Shelta didn¡¯t respond. I spoke again, but nothing. I talked to Patrick and Sarah, but they never acknowledged me.

    I looked to the corner of the living room to see something even more peculiar. There in the corner, looking down at Annabelle¡¯s body, was Annabelle herself.

    ¡°Annabelle,¡± I sputtered, confused.

    ¡°Oh, Sam. I knew you¡¯d make it,¡± she actually hugged me at my approach. ¡°I knew you would be here, but I was confused when you didn¡¯t come. We had to carry on without you¡­ but now I can see why¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really know what¡¯s happening,¡± I told her.

    ¡°That¡¯s all right, my boy. I believe I understand now. I thought I could see you now for some unknown reason, but¡­ I was wrong. I caught the smallest glimpse of you because we would both be on this side of life, at the same time,¡± Annabelle spoke, but stopped quickly at the sight of something behind me.

    I looked back to see what she saw. It was Jon, he was right there behind me. His facial expression looked different though. He usually looked stern, stone-cold, and unfeeling; when he looked at Annabelle, he looked¡­ welcoming.

    ¡°Oh my¡­¡± Annabelle''s eyes went wide for a moment, and then slowly softened in relaxation. ¡°I see now,¡± she let out a sigh of relief. ¡°Well¡­ at least now I know they¡¯ll all be safe around you.¡±

    ¡°What do you see?¡± I looked back to Annabelle as she gazed upon Jon. I did a double take, looking back and forth between Jon and the eldest Wicklow.

    ¡°No, Sam,¡± Jon spoke as he stepped around me, grabbing Annabelle¡¯s hand. ¡°That is not what we are here for.¡±

    ¡°Michael¡­ I¡¯ve missed you so much,¡± Annabelle spoke warmly to the person I knew as Jon but called him her dead husband''s name. ¡°Where¡¯s Bartley?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be with him soon, my dear. Everyone is waiting for you,¡± Jon spoke to her.

    When Annabelle looked at Jon, I wasn¡¯t sure that she saw who I saw. She was calling him Michael; her late husband¡¯s name was Michael.

    ¡°Will they all be okay, dear? I hate to leave them all like this¡­ with so much still to do,¡± Annabelle asked Jon about her family.

    ¡°This is how it is meant to be. They¡¯ll make it out okay. Peter¡¯s time has already come to an end, his power to come back is cut off, and his life will soon be over for good. No one else will be taken by him,¡± Jon assured her.

    ¡°Good,¡± Annabelle smiled. ¡°If that is the case, then I am ready to go.¡± Annabelle reached up and braced herself against Jon¡¯s arm.

    I watched them walk out of the silent house as the rest of her family still grieved and cried amongst the sorrow of the home. Two very different worlds existed in the same space; the living and the dead. Shockingly the dead seemed happier than the living. Was this right? What was Jon going to do to her?

    I followed Jon and Annabelle outside where they stopped in the front yard.

    ¡°Annabelle¡­¡± I was at a loss with what to do with any of it. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen? What do I do¡­?¡± I asked them both.

    Jon was as cold as ice per usual and said nothing, but Annabelle spoke.

    ¡°Be with the ones you love, Sam. You only have so much time with them until it¡¯s over. Then you¡¯ll have to wait until you see them again¡­ but we will see all of the ones we love again, Sam. That¡¯s the thing to hold onto, my dear.¡±

    I was frozen, locked in fear and uncertainty of everything. So many things had happened, were happening, and still needed to be done, yet things were becoming more evident.

    ¡°You¡¯ll go back, and you¡¯ll put an end to Peter,¡± Jon said.

    ¡°Then, it¡¯s over?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Peter, yes¡­ but the work¡­ the work will never be done. The names will come,¡± Jon assured. ¡°Now, it¡¯s time to part ways,¡± Jon said as I felt the earth beneath my feet begin to shake.

    A humming ring tore into my eardrums louder and louder as things started turning white again. Before the last bit of the world was blinded from my view, I heard the entity one last time.

    ¡°Peter Grimwood,¡± his ominous voice commanded. It was his sentence... and the sentence... was death.

    At his final word, everything was gone, and I was taken someplace else.

 Chapter 58 - Peter Grimwood

    The vision was upon me as soon as I was ripped from the fields. I don¡¯t know where I was, all I knew was the vision unfolding in my mind.

    I saw Peter¡¯s dark rise unfold before my eyes, every grim detail of his twisted ascent playing out in vivid flashes. It started in France, where I watched him grow up with his family. He had been young, still just a boy, but already the seeds of corruption were festering beneath the surface. His life was a history lesson in slow, insidious decay. It began with an obsession¡­ Peter reading the Grimwood family bestiaries daily. He consumed them like a poison he couldn''t resist. The old texts both intrigued and disgusted him, especially the parts about the purge; where the Wicklows had driven their family out of the collective, severing their ties to dark power. The WIcklows had taken their bestiaries and volumes on gypsy culture and their signature power. But¡­ they had not taken everything. The darkest tomes lay hidden in ancient Grimwood homes, passed down in reverent fear. A reminder of the cursed past that could never be repeated. They kept the knowledge, to keep it from the world, to ensure history did not repeat itself; hanging to the quiet life they had grown accustomed.

    For most of his family, the past was something to be forgotten, a black heritage they had abandoned in favor of a quieter, safer life. But not Peter. He was angrier, burning with a fury his kin tried to suppress. He felt robbed, cheated of a future, and power denied to him before he was even born. Yet, he wasn''t alone in his festering bitterness. There was one other Grimwood who harbored the same hatred, a venomous resentment for the Chasses, the Wicklows, and most of all, the Talbot family. Peter¡¯s grandfather, a man long steeped in that ancient malice, passed his poison down to his grandson, cultivating the hatred with the care of a gardener tending to a deadly plant. I watched as the grandfather took Peter places, taught him things forbidden by his parents. Peter relished it.

    Over the years, his grandfather whispered in Peter¡¯s ear, grooming him for the remnants of darkness still within their reach. It was slow, and deliberate, each conversation dripping with venomous intent, shaping Peter into something cold, ruthless. As his grandfather lay dying, he offered Peter one last gift¡­ the knowledge of a power that would give him what they both craved. Revenge. A way to reclaim what had been stolen from their bloodline, to steal back power for himself, no matter the cost.

    The moment was twisted, and grotesque. Peter, standing at his grandfather¡¯s side, used a forgotten ritual to gain the dark gift he had studied over the years; a necromantic ability that siphoned life from others. Placing his hand over his grandfather¡¯s heart, Peter sank a twisted dagger through the back of his own hand, and into the quivering heart of the old man. With a pulse of unfamiliar energy, Peter drained the last few moments of his grandfather¡¯s existence, snuffing out the old man¡¯s life, and drawing it into himself. In that instant, Peter felt the surge of unnatural power flow into him, cold and wrong, but intoxicating all the same. It was a power born of death, of stolen time and stolen strength, and it was more than Peter had ever imagined.

    But that act, that vile transference, did more than just grant Peter his grandfather¡¯s final wish for ultimate revenge. It caught the attention of something far away¡­ something old, watching from the shadows¡­ unseen. And it saw in Peter the darkness he had embraced, the hunger for more. Unbeknownst to Peter, the ritual he performed with his dying grandfather was the permission needed for something. That was when he became bound to something ancient, something¡­ Primeval.

    I saw violent flashes of a battle¡­ a struggle. The Wicklows came at the behest of the peaceable Grimwoods. They knew what Peter and his grandfather had been doing. They called for help, and those whom Peter hated came to destroy him. A battle took place, and power clashed that ripped up the area and the Grimwood home. I watched as a defeated Peter goaded Shelta Wicklow into dipping her hands into evil¡­ and she killed him. Winking his life out and falling over in shock.

    Then, Peter was alive again¡­ in another place. I didn¡¯t understand at first. Then, I saw his hurried attempt to steal another life, clumsily attacking strangers in alleys of small towns and old cities of France. His scarred hand pulled the very essence of life out from others to refuel his body. He needed more power. Then it clicked¡­ the Unseen Primeval had bound him, and must have pulled him into his realm to restore him. Yet somehow, I knew Peter didn¡¯t understand what had happened¡­ not yet.

    Peter began to reach further, delving into darker places, seeking power that others feared to even whisper of. Warnings came from all sides, dark gypsies, sorcerers, and the like, cautioning him of the dangers of necromancy. But Peter didn¡¯t heed them. Instead, he drained their lives, one by one, feeding the growing abyss within him. He became a shadowy scourge in France, a life-stealing sorcerer whose name was spoken only in hushed tones. Yet, as he grew stronger, he learned that the darkest powers demanded the darkest sacrifices.

    Years passed as Peter honed his abilities, each death a slow step toward something far more sinister. And then, after years of preparation, it happened. He made contact. I saw it all, saw the Primeval reach into Peter¡¯s mind, its voice a whisper of promises. The Unseen, the ancient being from the hellscape where Peter left me, had been with him for longer than I could have imagined. The beast never showed itself, not in the physical realm, but it was always there, guiding Peter from within his mind, nurturing the darkness that festered inside him.

    Peter¡¯s presence in the living world had drawn the Primeval like a moth to a flame, the connection something the creature had waited for. It cloaked Peter¡¯s foul deeds from those who might sense them. Taught Peter how to use others as pawns, performing his rituals while Peter reaped the rewards. But the Primeval never told him the full truth, never revealed who or what they had to be careful of¡­ what else would look his way.

    As I watched the memories play out, I knew exactly what it meant. The warnings were for me. Not me specifically, but the entity I served. The being from the fields would have hunted Peter down, just as it had hunted so many others. Then it would have sent the original Jon to claim him¡­ or me, once I took on the mantle. The Primeval had been protecting Peter, but only for its twisted ends. The deeper Peter sank, the closer he came to a fate that had been sealed long ago.

    I saw a meeting between Peter and Darry, the alpha of the werewolf pack I had once slaughtered. The memory unfolded like a carefully orchestrated plot, each step deliberate. Peter had set his plan in motion, laying out the strategy for ambushing the group of hunters that had been tracking the pack. But there was something more beneath the surface¡­ something Peter wasn¡¯t telling Darry. The goal wasn¡¯t to kill all the hunters. One in particular had to be spared: Allen Chasse.

    Peter never revealed Allen¡¯s true identity to Darry. He spun a different story, convincing the alpha that the boy was special, strong enough to survive the curse and become a werewolf. Darry, eager to expand his pack and never one to question the promise of more power, had no objections. He was a brute with simple desires, and Peter knew how to manipulate him. The real reason, though, was cruelly simple. Peter wanted to hurt the Chasse family in the deepest way possible. By turning Allen, he could deliver a blow not only to the Chasses but also to the Wicklows and the Talbots, reigniting old wounds and stirring up ancient feuds. His cruelty knew no bounds.

    In the last moments of the vision, everything shifted, jumping forward to more recent events. Violent images flashed before me, each one more brutal than the last. I saw a dark beast, a hulking mass of shadows, tearing through the night and ripping Peter in two as if he were nothing more than a plaything. The scene shifted again¡ªthis time, Peter was struck by a car, the impact violent and unforgiving, his body tossed aside like an animal crushed underfoot. Then he was under Shelta¡¯s power again, being melted away, and burned alive from the inside. And then, suddenly, Peter was standing in Martin¡¯s parking lot, whole again, as if none of it had ever happened. He grabbed me, took me, and dumped me in the realm of the Unseen. When he returned to the living world, he did something that made my skin itch with fear.

    I watched him step into a place that struck me as unsettlingly familiar: a dorm room, small and cramped, but not empty. A girl, someone I didn¡¯t recognize, stood frozen in terror as Peter forced his way inside. Her wide eyes followed him, trembling as she raised her arms in a desperate, silent plea. Peter approached her slowly, a twisted grin creeping across his face, and shushed her with sadistic calm. His hand met her skin, and in that instant, I saw her life drain away. She crumpled to the floor, her body limp and soulless, discarded like trash. Peter didn¡¯t even glance back.

    He moved with purpose, crossing the threshold into another room as though he already knew what he sought. He entered a bedroom, rummaging through it with a methodical, almost bored efficiency. Books, clothing, and furniture were all tossed aside as he hunted. His hand found a simple hairbrush, which he turned over in his fingers with a slow, deliberate curiosity. A dark smile tugged at his lips as he inspected it, his eyes alight with malicious satisfaction. He whispered to himself, his words too faint to hear, but the intent was clear. With the brush in hand, he strode out, leaving the girl¡¯s lifeless form behind without a second thought.

    As he exited, something outside caught my attention. It was a sign by the door. The realization hit like a punch to the gut. This was Autumn¡¯s dorm room. That girl was her roommate, and the hairbrush Peter now held so casually belonged to Autumn. He hadn¡¯t just killed¡­ he¡¯d come for something personal, something intimate.

    Flashes of images rushed through me as Peter performed a ritual. He carefully plucked a few strands of hair from the brush, his hands moving with an almost reverent precision. Dark energy coiled around the object, and I felt the unmistakable sense of something vile taking shape, an intent that would soon come to fruition.

    Then, the scene shifted again, and I saw Peter standing face-to-face with someone I recognized immediately: Patrick Wicklow. Fear gripped Patrick, his body shaking in the presence of his father¡¯s murderer. He was alone, defenseless, and terrified. Yet Peter didn¡¯t strike. His eyes held no immediate malice, only cold calculation. This wasn¡¯t about killing¡­ it was about something worse. It was about teaching. He gave Patrick the brush, whispered secrets the vision wouldn¡¯t allow me to hear¡­ and then he vanished from sight.

    The visions climaxed into a blinding white light, so intense it felt like my skull was cracking open. My ears rang with a sharp, piercing tone, as though noise could become a dagger and stab my fucking brain. Then it was gone. I was suspended in all-consuming blackness, untethered from everything, drifting into a void where time felt meaningless. For a moment, I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d ever escape.

    And then, slowly, I felt it¡­ solid ground beneath my feet. It was strange at first, like my senses were returning in pieces. The void faded, and the pressure in my chest loosened, releasing me back into reality. My vision began to adjust, colors bleeding through the emptiness until the sharp outlines of the world came into focus again.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    The first thing I noticed was the coolness of the air, a faint biting cold brushing against my skin like a warning. The scent of earth and moss filled my nose as I blinked, trying to shake off the dizziness. My eyes adjusted to the dim light of a forest, tall trees looming overhead like watchful sentinels, their branches thick and twisted. Overgrown brush pressed against my legs, wild and unkempt, reclaiming the ground beneath me. The shadows shifted between the trunks, dark and still as if the woods themselves were holding their breath, waiting for me to move.

    I reached down and touched the dirt with trembling fingers, feeling the gritty soil as if to prove I was truly back. No longer detached from the human world. I wasn¡¯t in an alien land, in an apocalypse of hungry darkness, or the grave of a Primeval force my brain couldn¡¯t exactly understand. I was back¡­ back on planet Earth where things made sense. I felt like, for the first time since I was stolen from Martin¡¯s parking lot, I could breathe.

    In a few seconds, my surroundings clicked into place. I recognized the dense cluster of trees, the wild tangle of roots and vines encroaching on the path. It was familiar. Too familiar. My breath caught as I realized where I was. The entity from the fields, the being I served, had brought me back to Martin¡¯s safe house. However, the clothes it had granted me in the in-between¡­ were gone. I safe house they weren¡¯t real. I sprinted inside, through the door, and knocked it from its hinges. I found my stash of clothes and got dressed. I had to hurry. I had to move, to get to Peter and end this. I don¡¯t know what he did with Autumn''s stuff, what he whispered to Patrick¡­ but I had to get to them. To stop Peter before he could finish what he had started.

    As soon as I was dressed, I rushed out the door, sprinting into the woods that surrounded my borrowed home. My pace was quick, but I wasn¡¯t panicking. There was a stillness in me, a certainty, which was unusual when I had a name and a vision in my head. The heat of the monster beneath my skin simmered, pressing against its cage¡­ willing me forward, faster. But deeper still, my mind was calm, free of fear for my friends. The cool air of encroaching winter bit at my face as I charged toward Peter. The Primeval power backing him had vanished¡­ he was just a man now. It was time for me to be the hammer, and Peter, the nail. This time, I¡¯d make sure he stayed down.

    For a few moments, everything around me faded into silence. It was just me moving through the world in a state of tunnel vision as things were finally coming together; events, conversations, and visions all merging into a higher understanding.

    I¡¯d always thought of myself as some kind of monster, a nameless horror from nightmares, destined to destroy those I loved. So, I hid, searching for answers, but none ever came. After everything with Mercy, her coven, and Phineas, I realized that the being who gave me this form was something beyond comprehension, wielding power that dwarfed my own. But even so, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he hadn¡¯t summoned me for evil purposes. There was doubt, but also moments when I felt a strange trust in him, even when his power made me feel like a leashed pet. Despite finding nothing in the vast Chasse library to explain the entity, I came to terms with my dark nature. I had a purpose¡­ I just couldn¡¯t see it clearly.

    Doubt would creep in between our encounters, when I had time to think with my limited knowledge, muddying the waters of my mind. I thought, what if the being, like Peter, was just another necromancer? What if all of this was a ploy to trap me in monstrosity? Maybe I wasn¡¯t balancing anything but was merely a killer, deceived into believing I was serving a noble cause or something. The doubts plagued me¡­ what if the lives I took¡­ were innocent?

    But now, things were finally clear. My black eyes met the burning orange irises of the Unseen; a being from another dimension who transformed mortals into his heralds of corrupted power. He collected power through them to disrupt the balance, but after he saw my strength, and called me brother, I saw fear in him. Not fear of me, or the primeval power I held, but fear of the power behind me¡­ the Entity. That was the real terror, the thief of the Unseen¡¯s world, the killer of his siblings.

    Annabelle¡¯s brief moment with me after she died only confirmed it. I saw her body but spoke to her as though she were still alive, and she passed on. She saw her husband, Michael, who guided her beyond. Everything clicked into place for me.

    My mind wasn¡¯t clouded anymore. The inner struggle with the beast was gone at that moment, and the chaos of my life with the Chasse family finally made sense. All the pieces were forming one clear picture. I¡¯d had fleeting thoughts before, but they seemed too insane to hold on to. Now, as the realization dawned, I felt calm. But I couldn¡¯t dwell on it¡­ not yet. There was a job to finish, and if I let myself think about it now, I might falter.

    In only a short while, I made it to the Chasse property under cover of night. My legs slowed to a walk through the last few feet of trees. I could see and hear precisely what was happening in the backyard of the large Chasse property. I felt like I passed through a fog as soon as I left the trees. It clung to me as I stepped out into the open, but I brushed it off as I continued towards my charge. It felt familiar, but I couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. Whatever it was, it was not my doing, but it didn¡¯t deter me. I knew what I¡¯d do, and that Peter wouldn¡¯t leave this place alive.

    Everyone was there: all of our friends, family, and even Charles¡¯ two cohorts that had been sent from below the city. They were all there and in an aggressive state. All the hunters, gypsies, and monsters looked into the middle of the grassy area at two individuals. Shelta stood high above a kneeling Peter, looking like she was exerting herself to the highest degree. Peter looked to be resisting her efforts as much as he could, but he could not stand.

    The fight had already happened; I missed it¡­ again. Everyone looked beaten and bloody, but they were all still standing. On the ground at their feet were the bodies of more disgusting devourers, and a few creatures with chalky white skin and faded red eyes. They looked like some kind of vampire, especially since I saw Alex pinning one to the ground with her indomitable strength as she sucked the life from it. She only fed on vampires, so it was definitely what they were. Through my focused intent, I scanned the field for Autumn, Eleanor, and Carter, only to see them catching their breath over a pile of eviscerated creatures that had attacked and failed. Autumn had scratches and cuts across her arms and face, but she was okay. They all were okay, just as I knew they would be.

    Autumn was dirty and covered in blood, but I could still see the same beautiful face under it all. Her dark hair was tied back in a slick ponytail, and she was dressed in the same tactical fighting gear that she usually wore into hunts. I didn¡¯t see any ranged weaponry on her, only knives and handguns like her father was typically equipped with. They must have had to improvise for whatever they had planned out. I wanted to go to her and see her up close, touch her, and make sure she was okay, but I had to finish this.

    Whatever their plan was, it had worked up to this point. There were no creatures left standing that meant my friends any harm, only the overpowered Peter.

    I felt like I was having d¨¦j¨¤ vu when I saw it all, but then I remembered Annabelle¡¯s words. She said that once she transferred her power to Shelta, then she would have enough power to contain Peter. However, I would be the one to ultimately finish the dark gypsy. Everything was as she said, even me being there in her dying moments. Only I wasn¡¯t there in a physical sense, but I was there to meet her in the afterlife.

    Everyone was worn out and distracted from the carnage and chaos of the fighting. Jane, Alan, and Eloise were all side by side and looking feral as ever, while Frank stayed close but armed with a silver machete. The bodies piled around them were numerous and ripped to pieces. Most of them were devourers, but I saw a few more human-looking bodies I sensed to be vampires.

    Charles and his two friends from the Pits lingered close to Shelta, but far enough away that they would be out of reach from Peter. I think they all feared if he got too close, he¡¯d steal their life just as he had with Zeke and Bartley.

    The fighting was over, and Peter was down, but they seemed to be caught in a standstill. They didn¡¯t seem like they knew of a way to kill Peter, and we¡¯re relying solely on Shelta to keep him in place. I began to wonder if Annabelle told her I would come, or if she was standing there, hoping to figure out a plan.

    No one realized I was there. They all must have been so caught up and distracted with everything else that they did not see the shadow that crept through the darkness of the yard. The way I moved and entered the area felt different, almost like I wasn¡¯t physically there but still in the place between the living and dead, like when I saw Annabelle. I couldn¡¯t tell the difference in Shelta¡¯s home, so I didn¡¯t think I would be able to tell now. Yet it seemed like no one could sense my presence, which was incredibly strange since the wind was at my back, and there were multiple werewolves present. They should have smelled me coming a mile away. I used this to my advantage and came upon Shelta and Peter slowly just in case anyone became aware of my presence. Once I was a foot away from Peter, it happened.

    Peter''s eyes flashed green, and a force of power shot out from him in all directions as an audible scream escaped his throat. It was him using all the power he had to fight back against the superior strength of the Wicklow family. Shelta fell backward at the shockwave as well as everyone else, stumbling out of their recovering stances. Peter stood as they all fell to their knees.

    Peter turned from them all and twisted his hands to his side like he was trying to pry open a door nobody else could see. He struggle and struggled, the green flare of his eyes flickering and dimming, until they reverted to fully human. ¡°What?¡± he asked aloud. ¡°Why won''t you let me come back?¡± Peter asked aloud, not to anyone present. The power wouldn¡¯t work for him anymore.

    I knew who he was talking to¡­ rather, who he was trying to talk to. They didn¡¯t exist anymore. He was trying to portal away to the Unseen¡¯s dimension. I smiled from behind the veil, there was no place to portal to anymore.

    Peter spun back around violently, panic rushing his mind. ¡°You think you¡¯ve won? You cannot win against my power! I grow in strength with every kill while you all slowly fail,¡± Peter yelled at them angrily. His devilish grin was replaced by snarling hatred. ¡°I¡¯m going to take you all! None of your families will be left standing. I¡¯m going to tear you down like your family did to mine.¡± Peter''s eyes burned green again as he stepped towards Shelta, but dimmer.

    Shelta scrambled desperately on her hands and knees, her fingers clawing at the earth in a futile attempt to escape. Panic swallowed her as one of the strangers Charles brought hurled himself at Peter. The man shifted mid-air, his body twisting into the same translucent, ghostly form he had used before to strike Peter in Martin¡¯s parking lot. He flew over the field littered with corpses, aiming to tear out Peter¡¯s throat.

    But Peter was faster. With an almost effortless motion, he snatched the phantom from the air, gripping its intangible form and dragging it back into the physical realm as if defying the laws of reality itself. The stranger barely had time to struggle before Peter¡¯s hands clamped around his throat, fingers digging into the flesh with terrifying force.

    Peter''s eyes pulsed violently as they locked onto his victim, a sinister gleam of power radiating from him. The air around them seemed to thicken as Peter¡¯s grip tightened, crushing the man¡¯s neck with the finality of death, his eyes burning a slight shade brighter. The ghostly figure writhed for a heartbeat longer before his body went utterly limp, collapsing into Peter¡¯s clutches like a puppet with its strings cut.

    With a casual toss, Peter discarded the corpse to the blood-soaked earth, a lifeless husk drained of both its spirit and power. The man had barely even fought back, his life snuffed out in a single, devastating touch. Peter stood over the body, victorious, the stolen life force humming beneath his skin as he claimed yet another victim.

    It was a shock to everyone in the expanse. Even I had to admit that I did not see that coming, especially with that man¡¯s strange ability. He seemed powerful, but he was just snuffed out like a small flame in the wind against Peter¡¯s unnatural power to siphon your very life away. Yet, I still knew how this would end. It did not matter to me how much power Peter attained. I knew that it would be me that ended this corrupted man¡¯s life. I was still calm.

    As Peter turned back toward Shelta, with everyone else scrambling to regain their footing and composure, something around me shifted. The shimmer in the world around me evaporated in an instant, like stepping through the threshold of another world. The moment I crossed into this new clarity, my presence hit like a shockwave.

 Chapter 59 - Final Answer

    I stood barely five yards behind Peter, fully visible to my friends and adoptive family, their eyes wide and unblinking. Silence gripped the air; no one dared to speak. The second I passed through that invisible barrier, I felt the sheer, overwhelming power unfurling from within me, rolling off my body in relentless, crushing waves. It was the same unstoppable force I¡¯d felt the first time I encountered the entity in the fields, but now, it was mine¡ªcoursing through my veins, pouring out of me like a thick, tangible aura of doom. I knew where it had come from¡­ the realization. It was the key to everything, a greater understanding¡­ and more¡­ power.

    The air around me vibrated, charged with an invisible energy that twisted and warped everything within its reach, filling the space with an oppressive, bone-deep tension. It wasn¡¯t just power; it was a force of nature, a dark, irresistible wave that gripped the minds of everyone in its path, shaking them to their core. No one moved. No one breathed. They stood frozen, locked in place, their faces pale and strained under the weight of it. All they could do was watch as I stood there, my presence suffocating the life out of the area, an embodiment of something far beyond human.

    Peter found the strength to speak, ¡°You¡­ how?¡± he was at a total loss. ¡°You cannot be here¡­ You should be dead!¡± His face twisted into absolute terror. His soul understood now why he couldn¡¯t feel his patron anymore.

    ¡°It was that place I didn¡¯t belong,¡± I spoke of the dimension he sent me. Even my voice carried a new weight to it, oppressing the area and those in it.

    ¡°How did you escape?¡± Peter asked feverishly. ¡°No living thing can escape that hell on its own. My master should have consumed you with his power!¡± Peter stumbled back at the feeling of my force as it washed over the area.

    ¡°He was weak.¡± I raised my hand up to feel for the blade in the void. I gripped the invisible form and pulled it into reality. The long, etched blade materialized in my hand, glinting the moonlight off it with murderous intent. As soon as it sat in the physical world, my aura was amplified. Peter fell to his knees. ¡°He fell to my blade¡­ him¡­ and his world!¡±

    ¡°No¡­¡± Peter was scatterbrained as he tried to make sense of it in front of me. His small mind couldn¡¯t comprehend what I was finally coming to understand. This was why he couldn¡¯t teleport, why his power dulled. It explained everything he had been questioning as he felt his power cut off.

    Then the same overconfident smile spread across his face, ear to ear. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s losing his power¡­ maybe I¡¯m stronger than him now! If that¡¯s the case¡­¡± Peter looked up to me. His eyes were wide at the possibilities running through his brain. He was genuinely losing his mind. Insanity ignoring the power he was facing.

    ¡°You think you¡¯re strong enough now?¡± I asked calmly.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Peter answered, ¡°that¡¯s exactly what I think.¡±

    ¡°Well, why don¡¯t you try it?¡± I calmed the power that emanated from me. I wanted him to regain his composure and find the strength to come to me.

    ¡°Sam!¡± Autumn¡¯s scream tore through the air, her voice cracking with desperation. ¡°Sam, don¡¯t let him touch you!¡± She was wild, her feet pounding against the ground as she sprinted toward us, panic surging through every fiber of her being. Her heart hammered in her chest, a frantic rhythm that echoed the terror clawing at her mind. I could read her like a book¡­ she couldn''t lose me again. Not like this.

    Before she could get any closer, Carter barreled into her, tackling her to the ground. They crashed hard, Carter pinning her down with his weight. She thrashed beneath him, her limbs flailing, her mind consumed with one thought: getting to me. Protecting me from Peter.

    ¡°Let me go!¡± she screamed, tears burning in her eyes. ¡°Please, Dad, let me go! I have to get to him!¡± Her voice was frantic, raw with terror, the unspoken confession of what she felt choking in her throat.

    ¡°Autumn, stop!¡± Eleanor shouted, rushing to help hold her down. ¡°He¡¯ll kill you! He¡¯ll take you from us!¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t care. She kicked and writhed, her strength fueled by sheer desperation. Her nails dug into the dirt, her muscles screaming with exertion as she fought against her father and Eleanor. Her mind raced, her thoughts a blur of dread. Her own fear of losing me to this guy gave her the strength to ignore my dominating presence. She was more afraid of her fear of what might happen to me.

    I was thankful that they were there to stop her. If she was alone, she would have most definitely made it to us, and Peter might have been able to take her from me forever. It was for her own good. I couldn¡¯t lose her¡­ I needed her for what I felt coming in my future. The more I realized the truth about what I was, the more I knew I needed her to be with me¡­ to help me with what the truth would mean. I just hoped she would still want me once she knew the truth.

    Peter ignored what was happening with the Chasse family and stepped up to me without hesitation once I let my dominating presence subside. ¡°Your power will be mine, and then I¡¯ll kill them all,¡± he barked as he smashed his hand around my throat. Peter¡¯s eyes burned even brighter green than before, pouring every last vestige of pour he had left into the effort. He stared into the black, marble-like spheres of my eyes as he attempted to steal my inhuman strength and life force. I could feel his mental strain against me, but it was fruitless.

    I reached up and grabbed his hand on my throat. His green eyes shot around, looking up and down from my obsidian orbs to his hand. He was struggling and confused. He was so confident in what he would do to me that this was never an outcome that could have happened in his mind.

    I felt the fog wrap me back up in a smothering haze as soon as I grabbed Peter¡¯s hand. I think I was starting to understand what that feeling was. I didn¡¯t feel like I was totally in the living world anymore. I think the entity was allowing me to walk in between the planes of the living world as we did with Annabelle; still here, but just out of reach. The family couldn¡¯t see us anymore. To them, we had disappeared out of thin air as soon as I touched Peter. Just vanished like we had moved through a portal again.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I told him. ¡°I hoped I could do this without letting you escape. You walked right in¡­ on your own free will.¡±

    ¡°How? How are you not falling?¡± he spit through his rage as he couldn¡¯t understand.

    The calm around me was still as present as it was since I was given his name. ¡°I have no life to take, Peter. My life was given away to save someone else,¡± I said, looking back towards the silent Eleanor. The three Chasses searched intently from the ground as their own fighting had stopped. They had no clue that we were right there, just on the other side of life. ¡°Even if I still had my life, you wouldn¡¯t be able to stop me. I¡¯m not alive¡­ but I¡¯m not dead either. I¡¯m powered by something that lives in between the living world and what lies beyond.¡± I smiled at Peter as I slowly twisted his hand away from my throat, straining and cracking his bones in my vice-like grip.

    Peter screamed under the slowly building pressure that overcame his own structural integrity. ¡°Stop! It doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯ll kill me, and I¡¯ll just keep coming back. If I can¡¯t kill you, then I¡¯ll just kill everyone you care about¡­ Sam Roberts.¡± He said my name.

    How did he know that name? The way he said it was like he knew something about my secrets; it through off my composure for a moment.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ that¡¯s right. I know about your family and where you come from. I¡¯ve seen your brother¡­ and might I say, you two are very identical. I¡¯ve seen Vicky and Ben, and I¡¯ve smelled the head of that precious little Caydee,¡± Peter¡¯s creepy smile returned. ¡°You see, Sam, I do my research. I know people¡­ real close pals you see, and they help me find out things. When you slaughtered Darry and freed Allen, I knew I had to come meet you. Everything I had heard was too good to be true. I knew your power would be mine, I just had to figure you out. Once I saw the power for myself, the sheer monstrosity of that beast you have inside¡­ I knew I had no chance against you; not until I grew much stronger. Still, I¡¯m not a match, not yet. I had to find some kind of weakness, and I did. I know exactly where each of your family members sleeps at night. I¡¯ve placed my hand on that little girl of yours.¡± Peter¡¯s twisted grin grew more manic. He was fucking sick.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    I was in shock, still maintaining control over Peter with his arm, but my mind was somewhere else. Thoughts of his evil power anywhere near Caydee, Seth, Vicky, or any of them made my blood boil. He was so close to them, and I had no idea.

    ¡°What did you do to them?¡± I ordered him to answer, twisting his arm a few more degrees past the break.

    ¡°Ahh!¡± Peter screamed in pain, huffing heavily as he regained his composure. ¡°Nothing yet, Sam. But don¡¯t worry, I will. It doesn¡¯t matter how many times you kill me, I will come back, and I will get to them. I will take everything from you, just as I will take from them,¡± Peter snarled towards the collective family watching an empty space from a distance. ¡°So, go ahead, turn into that thing. Turn into that raging beast and snuff me out, because the quicker you do it, the quicker I can return to torment you and your family. It doesn¡¯t matter what you are¡­ I will keep coming back.¡± He spoke the purest of facts from within his evil mind.

    The calm returned to my thoughts, reassuring me of the truth that was already set in motion, ¡°No¡­ you won¡¯t.¡± My face settled with no emotion, only void black eyes.

    Peter¡¯s smile dissipated slowly, unsure of the source of my confidence. I think he finally understood that I knew something he didn¡¯t, ¡°What is this?¡± He looked around, feeling the strange atmosphere of the place we now stood. He started to notice all the others as they moved and spoke after we disappeared, but they made no sounds. The world was utterly silent, except for us two, as the living were trying to figure out what exactly had happened to us. They had no clue where we had gone.

    Autumn finally broke away from her parents and ran to the place where we had stood. She passed through Peter and me, actually running through our bodies like a ghost, totally disconnected from our location. Peter¡¯s eyes grew wide at the sight of people passing through his body like he was already a lost spirit that hadn¡¯t passed on.

    ¡°Where are we¡­ what did you do?¡± he ordered me to tell him.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do this, Peter,¡± I said as I motioned around us. ¡°But this is it. There¡¯s no coming back after this one. I told you¡­ we killed your Primeval¡­ the Unseen. He¡¯s gone¡­.¡±

    ¡°We?¡± Peter asked, backing away as I let him go. He clutched his arm in a new wave of fear. ¡°Who¡¯s we?¡±

    Then, I felt a power unfurl around us¡­ but it was not my own, and it wasn¡¯t coming from the blade in my grip. I saw in Peter¡¯s fading green eyes that he knew what I said to be true. Suddenly, the world around us shifted. Blackness washed over us like a suffocating wave, swallowing everything in its path. It wasn¡¯t just darkness; it was as if the fabric of reality itself had unraveled, tearing us from the space we once stood. We were no longer hidden behind the veil of this world but thrust into another.

    The transition was violent for Peter but seamless for me. One moment, we were standing amidst the battle, the next, our feet sank into the soft, dew-covered grass of the fields. The shift was more than visual; it was as though gravity had twisted, yanking us through an unseen current. Peter¡¯s head swam as the sight of Jon¡¯s shack materialized in the distance. It was weathered and frail, exactly where it always stood. Yet, the world around it felt different, darker, more sinister. A storm of black destructive wrath roiled in the heavens above. White lightning scorched across the sky, back and forth across the horizon. Flashes of light constantly lit up the darkness that Peter and I were standing in.

    Peter¡¯s breath hitched, his body trembling as he glanced around, his movements erratic and panicked. He was pacing frantically now, his eyes darting across the fields as if searching for an escape that wasn¡¯t there. The air thickened, a heavy, oppressive force pressing down on us, whispering of impending doom. It gathered in the distance like an approaching hurricane, a malevolent presence that swirled closer with every second.

    Peter knew¡­ there was no outrunning what was coming.

    From within the developing power around us, a dark-cloaked figure arrived. The being that I served stepped forth just before the raging storm in the distance. He was a great distance away, but I knew Peter could see him, his all-encompassing gaze demanded attention in this place. Peter stumbled back as the earsplitting hum pierced our senses, falling to the ground below. He tried pushing up from the dirt, but his broken arm didn¡¯t allow him much ability to raise himself from the ground. Even if he could stand and flee, it wouldn¡¯t matter; there was nowhere he could hide from what was coming.

    I felt the blade in my grip humming with power like it was resonating with the being as the two became closer. Its carved names and symbols, red hot against the weathered steel finish.

    Peter fumbled and crawled away from the menacing power that the cloak of shadows brought with it. It was useless. There at that moment, was Peter Grimwood¡¯s few last breaths. He didn¡¯t fall by my hand. The entity came for him.

    The surrounding darkness grew so large that Peter and I were both surrounded by whipping darkness. It was like standing inside the eye of a tornado made completely of shadow. I could still see him through the roiling darkness of the umbral storm. Peter¡¯s eyes were terrified. I could barely stand in the presence of such power, but I knew it wasn¡¯t my own body that allowed it. My monster¡¯s creator was permitting me to continue to have the use of my legs. That was the only reason. He wasn¡¯t here for me¡­ but for Peter.

    ¡°Please¡­ I¡¯ll do anything. Just let me live,¡± Peter¡¯s last plea could barely be heard through the raging power that surrounded us. We were in a literal storm of darkness that raged around us like a tempest.

    The being spoke, ¡°Peter Grimwood.¡± The voice overpowered the ambient noise of the storm. Like a planet-sized bullhorn, its sheer volume could have shattered stone.

    Then, the shadows overcame him. Peter disappeared out of sight, swallowed up by the swirling darkness that filled this dimension. I tried to watch, but my eyes were filled with the blackness of the raging shadows. Through the storm, I could hear a faint scream that called out for help¡­ he¡¯d find none.

    In those moments alone, wholly enveloped in the entity¡¯s dominating power¡­ I felt at peace. I just stood in the darkness that consumed Peter and breathed slowly, closing my eyes. I realized the truth. It was the slow truth that I came to realize over the course of the early years of this life. I always had the questions, and deep down, a part of me always had the answers. I was just fighting against my nature for too long¡­ for what I felt deep in the darkest pit, in the cage with the monster. I was just too afraid to keep looking¡­ to admit what I felt¡­ and what it would mean. I felt it in my core¡­ in my bones. I knew what the being from the fields was. Everything about me was sure now. I had no more questions about my identity. There were no more answers to seek. That chapter of my story was closed. Everything that came next¡­ was only how I would live with it¡­ while I carried this burden.

    I started speaking to the shadows, knowing that he could hear me. I wanted him to know that I understood now. I knew who I was talking to¡­ and it was terrifying.

    ¡°I was turned into this monster, by you. I¡¯ve never craved flesh or blood, or anything from the bodies of my victims, but I was satisfied in some way. You said that there is a piece of a Primeval that lies within me. There is only one thing that Primeval craved¡­ The only thing that satisfied its hunger. I think that¡¯s why he¡¯s tied to you¡­ the only one of the ancient Primevals to submit to you. You send me names of people who extended their lives¡­ gained more power than they ever should have.¡± I lightly chuckled to myself for being so blind before. ¡°That was just another way to say it, wasn¡¯t it?¡± I asked the blackness that swarmed me. ¡°They cheated you¡­¡±

    The shadows swarmed violently to one area a distance in front of me, collecting into some kind of towering mass. The black tendrils of shadow whipped past me forcefully as they all grouped into one form. No longer was the storm raging around me but was pushing past me to take shape. It was like a massive windstorm blowing past as it all centralized.

    I looked down as the darkness faded from my surroundings and collected in front of me. The ground where Peter last stood was now vacant, with no sign that he was ever there. I felt no other life in that place. Peter Grimwood was no more. The only thing I felt in my area was the blade, vibrating with immense power.

    I let out a small laugh in realization, ¡°Then there¡¯s this¡­ it''s yours¡­ isn¡¯t it?¡±

    The shadows grew taller, thicker, and darker as they came together. The form was massive as I craned my head up to look upon it all. It formed a towering figure that took on a similar shape to the cloaked being that was there the same night I was taken and turned into this monster.

    The world around us faded, and I stood as an insect in the presence of something far more significant than myself. He was a titan of titans, bigger than the Unseen in its world. If it could have cast a shadow in this dark world, it would have eclipsed the planet. Standing in front of me was a mountainous being of inescapable doom.

    I felt the blade violently rip itself from my grip and tear across the gap, soaring into the sky like a reverse comet, trailing heat and shadow behind. It grew larger and thicker as it grew closer to the tower of shadows. A hand of darkness reached out to grab the blade, its form shifting, lengthening¡­ curving. Its handle angled down, growing longer and thicker. Doom itself loomed over the horizon... a form that could end the world in a single swipe of its blade. A vacuum of energy and life at its core, wanting... eating... destroying life in all its forms. It was... the end.

    I spoke from my vulnerability, completely helpless¡­¡°Death¡­¡±

    A rumble shook the fields as a voice spoke.

    ¡°Now you see, Sam,¡± his thunderous voice vibrated my entire body. ¡°I am no mortal. No necromancer. I am older than the Primevals. I AM DEATH¡­ and we have much work to do!¡±

    The power was devastating as I basked in it. I had no power against him¡­ nothing I could do to resist him. Yet, I was at peace in the raging shadows that this being cast out from himself. In those moments that would be seared into my memory for the rest of my unnatural life¡­ I felt calm. I knew who he was, and I knew who I was to him.

    The blackness of the world turned to white, blinding my eyes from the visage of the timeless entity. I caught one last glimpse of Death¡¯s towering form before I was utterly blinded, and I faded from that world.

 Chapter 60 - The Dust Settles (Carter)

    Peter Grimwood was finally gone. Dead. The weight of his presence, once looming so heavily over us all, had lifted. A couple of days had passed now, and still no sign of Sam, still no sign of Peter¡­ though the latter was expected after Shelta assured us he was dead. She said she''d tried to view his future, the way the Wicklows always did, but found nothing. It was like he didn''t exist anymore, wiped from the weave of possibilities she could touch. And that finally let us breathe. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the choking fear of his inevitable return had loosened its grip.

    How long had he terrorized us? Too long to measure in days or months¡­ years? His hands had a grip on this family in ways that were unseen for a while now. It started with Allen¡­ but it ended here¡­ with Sam. His presence had become an insidious shadow, creeping into every thought, every plan. We had lived with the constant fear that he¡¯d come for one of us, that he¡¯d tear away someone else we loved without a second thought. The mere idea that he could take one of the people I cared for most had twisted my insides into knots that hadn¡¯t loosened until now. But with him gone, we could finally breathe again.

    The relief was real, but so was the aftermath. The house, the property¡­ it was all a wreck. The wards, once sturdy protections, had been broken to lure him in. We had work to do, repairs to make, wards to mend. It felt like we were rebuilding more than just the land and our protections; we were piecing ourselves back together. Bringing together what was left of our family.

    Peter''s shadow stretched far across the city, and the damage he''d done was evident. Patrick, especially, seemed broken in a way I hadn¡¯t thought possible. Ever since his father died, there had been something off about him. His eyes, once filled with a youthful spark, now looked sunken and hollow, like life had been slowly drained from him. But now, with Peter gone, it was worse¡­ far worse. His face held the kind of exhaustion that ran deeper than sleepless nights. Maybe it was the relief of Peter being dead, the realization that the nightmare was over, and he was only now feeling everything he''d been bottling up. Whatever it was, he looked more lost than ever.

    And Shelta... she had her own burdens to bear. Her family had been shattered. They¡¯d lost Annabelle and Bartley. The two pillars of their family, the most reliable, the ones they always turned to. Gone. Now, it was up to Shelta to gather the pieces, to rebuild what Peter had torn up. She had to carry on, to be the one who held the family together when it seemed like there was nothing left to hold.

    Patrick might help her one day. He had the bloodline, the potential to lead, to grow the family again. But looking at him now, I could tell that day was far off. The emptiness in his eyes and the sag in his posture. It wasn¡¯t something that would heal overnight. He might recover, but not soon. And until then, Shelta would carry the weight of her family''s future alone.

    Zeke was dead¡­ Kayla was still just as destroyed as well. Arthur was a seasoned hunter, and he wouldn¡¯t let Zeke¡¯s death stop him and his family. Although, there wasn¡¯t much left of his family to hunt with. He might have to make a shift over to us¡­ or to Uncle Chris. I shuttered at the thought. Once they knew the full details of what had happened, the deaths we had endured¡­ the family would come again. I dreaded what they would say¡­ especially about Sam. I tried not to think about it. A problem for another day.

    Yet even in all this grief, stress, and loss, there was relief. Peter was dead. His reign of terror was over. It felt like we had finally clawed our way out from under the crushing weight of his shadow, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the air was clear. We could move forward, even if the path ahead was full of wreckage. At least it was ours again.

    We were hit with another death that no one expected. The police came knocking, looking for Autumn. After cleaning and recovering from the battle, we discovered Peter had detoured to Autumn''s dorm room at the college. He had killed her roommate, Lindsey. That poor girl had no clue what had come into the safety of her home. The police didn''t know what to make of it, as she had no signs of trauma, and her blood work came back clean. It was like she just dropped dead on the spot... but we knew. Peter had stolen her life. It was open and shut. The questions they had for Autumn weren¡¯t born of suspicion, they were more informational. To try and figure out what they could learn about the poor girl, to see if there were any answers to why she just dropped dead. There wasn¡¯t¡­ none that would help her grieving family. But¡­ why did Peter go there? He had to have known Autumn would never go it alone while such a threat lingered in the city. What was he doing there?

    Autumn was a wreck, blaming herself. She was also slightly shaken that Peter had come for her specifically. She was just thankful she wasn¡¯t there, but absolutely destroyed that her friend had been caught in the crossfire of our lives. Thankfully for us, Detective Ames intercepted the case and was able to mediate for us and assist us with any legal matters that might rear their head our way. I told him the truth, and it shook him to his core. To know there were things out there like Peter¡­ people who could kill in a single touch had him shaken. He assured us that it was over, but warned Autumn to keep a low profile and answer if they came calling again. He¡¯d help us through any further hoops we had to jump through.

    A few days had passed since I¡¯d seen Ames, and here I was, sinking into the worn leather of the living room recliner, a glass of 50-year-old whiskey cradled in my hand. It wasn¡¯t just any whiskey¡­ it was the good stuff. Something my dad had stashed away in the basement like a prized relic, reserved for a day that never quite came. I¡¯d always thought Allen and I would crack it open together, some evening when the world wasn¡¯t on fire, when we could just sit and enjoy it; father and son. But then Allen disappeared, and that bottle became one more reminder of what was lost. Now that he was back, I hadn¡¯t even thought about it until now. Maybe we¡¯d still share it one day, but tonight, I just needed to taste it. After everything that had happened¡­ I needed it.

    The smooth amber liquid glistened in the firelight, its rich scent mingling with the crackling warmth of the flames in the central fireplace. I raised the glass to my lips, savoring the sharp but smooth burn as it slid down my throat. The warmth spread, slowly relaxing muscles that had been tense for far too long. There was no rush, no urgent pull to fix something or save someone. For the first time in ages, I could simply¡­ be.

    So much had happened, too much to list without drowning in it all. Sam showing up out of nowhere, only for us to discover he wasn¡¯t human. Thinking he was a threat, losing him, only to gain Allen back. The immortals¡­ losing Eleanor¡­ it all blurred together; a whirlwind of chaos. And Peter, of course. That final storm. The most recent in a long, cruel line of curses my family seemed destined to endure. But he was dead now¡­ dead. Shelta had confirmed it. He was gone, wiped out of existence, no longer a shadow waiting to pounce. The relief that followed was intoxicating in its own right.

    I felt lighter. We knew the truth about Sam, though I still had no idea what he was or where he¡¯d gone. Yet, despite that, I felt closer to him now than I ever had. It was strange, feeling this bond with someone who had slipped away into the unknown, but it didn¡¯t bother me. Not today. Today, I could relax.

    The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the wood and the soft crackle of the fire. Eleanor and Autumn had spent most of the day in and out of their beds, recovering, finding their own way to the fragile peace we always seemed to live under. I let them rest. They needed it. We all did. So I sat there, feet up, sipping the whiskey slowly, watching the flames dance. I could feel the tension, the fear, and the exhaustion melting away with each sip.

    The glass felt cool in my hand as I swirled the liquid, watching the reflections play in the firelight. I took another sip, savoring the taste. The burn was slight but welcome, a reminder that I was still here, still breathing, still alive. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the warm wave of relaxation wash over me, leaving me adrift in that rare, blissful space between thoughts. I had no cares at that moment, just the fire, the whiskey, and the simple pleasure of not having to fight for a moment.

    I stared into the flames again, the flickering light hypnotizing me, pulling me deeper into that peaceful lull. Sip, breathe, stare at the fire. Rinse, repeat. It was nice.

    Then, out of nowhere, the steady knock at the door broke through the stillness. Firm, deliberate. Someone¡¯s knuckles rapping against the wood. I sighed, letting the glass hang at my side as I stood up, the peaceful haze slipping away with each step I took toward the door. I hoped, really hoped it wasn¡¯t more bad news. Maybe it was Frank, coming by for a drink. Maybe it was something simple. Something easy. God knows we deserved a break.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I meandered over, not in any rush, taking my time as I reached the door, bracing myself for whatever waited on the other side. But deep down, I just wanted the peace back, if only for a little while longer.

    I opened the door, the comforting warmth of the whiskey still buzzing in my veins, and was met with a familiar face. It was Sam, but something wasn¡¯t right. He stood there on the porch, the low light casting shadows across his features, and for a moment, I hesitated. My first instinct was to feel relieved. It was Sam, after all¡­ but something felt¡­ off.

    Maybe it was just the alcohol muddling my senses. I blinked, trying to clear my head. His face was the same, his build roughly the same. But there was a subtle strangeness about him. His stance, maybe? The way he looked past me, his eyes scanning the room behind me like he was searching for something¡­ someone. He didn¡¯t speak, didn¡¯t offer that familiar nod or smirk he¡¯d usually greet me with. Just stood there, silent, gazing into the house like he wasn¡¯t even sure it was the right place.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. My voice came out slower than I intended, the whiskey still working its magic on my speech. ¡°You alright?¡±

    He didn¡¯t answer right away. His eyes flicked to mine, but they didn¡¯t hold the usual recognition, the easy familiarity. Instead, there was something unreadable in them. Cold, distant. He studied me as if I were a stranger, his brow furrowed slightly. My stomach churned, and a tight knot of confusion started to form.

    ¡°Did something happen?¡± I prompted again, my voice a little sharper now, trying to cut through the fog. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    He cocked his head to the side, just a fraction like he was processing my words for the first time. His gaze lingered on my face, then drifted back to the house behind me. ¡°This¡­ is your house? Have you always lived here?¡± His voice was steady, but there was no recognition in it.

    The knot in my gut twisted tighter. I glanced behind me, half-expecting to see something out of place, something that would explain this bizarre conversation. Nothing. The living room was just as it had been; fire crackling, whiskey bottle still resting on the side table. I turned back to him, my confusion deepening.

    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah,¡± I answered slowly, each word feeling like it was dragged through molasses. ¡°Of course. Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡±

    He shifted his weight, still standing in the doorway, still acting like he didn¡¯t recognize me at all. That same blank look, like he was speaking to someone he¡¯d just met. I felt a prickle of unease crawl up my spine.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for someone,¡± he said finally, his voice a bit softer now, but still detached. ¡°A guy¡­ named Seth.¡±

    My blood ran cold.

    Seth? I didn¡¯t know a Seth. Who was it, and why did Sam come to me to find them? ¡°Are they some kind of creature? Can you not find them on your own?¡±

    The stiffness in his posture. The way he looked at me like he didn¡¯t know me at all. ¡°Creature¡­¡± his face was a twist of confusion. He had no clue what I meant.

    This was not Sam.

    I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs as I looked closer, really looked at him. The sharpness of his jawline and the slight difference in his frame and stature. How had I missed it? My mouth went dry, and for a moment, I couldn¡¯t find the words. This looked like Sam¡­ but it wasn¡¯t. This was Seth¡­ Sam¡¯s twin brother. How had he found this place?

    ¡°Seth?¡± I breathed, barely audible, my mind reeling. ¡°Don¡¯t know any Seth¡­¡± I played it cool.

    He tilted his head again, a small smirk playing on his lips now, the first sign of any real emotion. ¡°Clever.¡± His voice was laced with a mocking edge, one that sent a shiver through me. He glanced down at the threshold, then stepped forward, just enough to close the distance between us. ¡°So, you do know who I am.¡±

    I took a step back instinctively, my hand tightening around the doorframe. The easygoing atmosphere from the day-drinking shattered in an instant. The warmth of the whiskey in my stomach was replaced by an icy pit of dread.

    ¡°Whoa man¡­ who the fuck do you think you are?¡± I asked, trying to keep my voice in character, trying to seem like a surprised civilian.

    Seth''s expression didn''t change, but there was a flicker in his eyes; something unsure. He took another step forward, his presence suddenly feeling suffocating, like he was forcing his way into the space even though he hadn¡¯t crossed the threshold.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m here to find out,¡± he said casually, but there was nothing casual about the way his gaze bore into me. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know, would you? Anyone else around here going by the name of Seth Roberts?¡±

    The question felt like a trap. I didn¡¯t know where Sam was. Hell, I hadn¡¯t seen him in days, and now I was standing here, face-to-face with his twin, feeling like I was inches from disaster. Why did he think someone was using his name?

    ¡°Look, son,¡± I said, my voice calm, steady. ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone named Seth. Why are you here? Maybe I can help you.¡± I kept my tone casual, doing my best to sound like a clueless bystander. My heart was pounding beneath my calm exterior, but I couldn¡¯t let him see that. I needed him to believe me.

    For a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, like he was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. His brow furrowed, the weight of his thoughts pulling his face tight, but then something shifted. He dropped his gaze to the ground, and a sigh slipped out, long and heavy.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered under his breath, the word barely audible, but I could hear the frustration seeping through. His shoulders sagged, and I could feel the tension between us easing, loosening its grip.

    I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been holding, feeling the tightness in my neck and back slowly start to fade. Maybe this would end here¡­ maybe he was ready to drop it. But then, just as I started to think I was in the clear, he spoke again.

    ¡°Someone used my name,¡± he began, his voice lower now, more defeated than before. ¡°My passport¡­ and this address. Booked a flight out of the country.¡± He rubbed the back of his neck, his frustration palpable. ¡°Someone stole my identity.¡± He glanced up at me, his eyes searching mine for any flicker of recognition, any sign that I knew more than I was letting on. ¡°I just want to find out who did it, and why they used this address¡­¡±

    I kept my expression neutral, even as his words sank in, as the pieces of his story clicked together in my head. This wasn¡¯t just a random visit, wasn¡¯t a simple misunderstanding. He was looking for something and the trail had led him straight to my doorstep.

    ¡°You sure,¡± Seth continued, his voice steady now, but laced with suspicion, ¡°there¡¯s no one in there with you that goes by the name Seth?¡±

    I froze for half a second, the question hanging in the air like a live wire. I shook my head slowly, forcing a slight smile, trying to sell the lie. ¡°No one, man. It¡¯s just me, my wife, and daughter. No Seths here.¡± I gestured behind me toward the empty living room, hoping the casual motion would be enough to convince him.

    But his eyes lingered on me, sharp, calculating. The way he looked past me, toward the shadows inside the house, sent a chill down my spine. He wasn¡¯t convinced. Not entirely.

    I only had one thought in that brief moment. Get him out of here. Now!

    I could feel the pressure mounting, the air thick with unspoken words. My heart hammered in my chest, the seconds stretching out, each one an eternity. Sam¡¯s secrets were too dangerous. This was too close.

    Before Seth could say anything else, I stepped forward, forcing a casual chuckle that felt too thin, too hollow. ¡°Look, man,¡± I said quickly, my words tumbling over each other. ¡°I really don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, but if someone stole your identity, the cops are the ones you should be talking to, not me. I don¡¯t have anything to do with this.¡±

    Seth¡¯s expression darkened, but I didn¡¯t give him time to push further. ¡°Seriously,¡± I added, my voice more insistent now, ¡°you¡¯re barking up the wrong tree here. I¡¯ve got nothing to do with it.¡± I had a stray thought that tacked onto my last statement, ¡°I own a large construction company, and this address is common knowledge there. I have all sorts of old employees I¡¯ve fired over the years that were into some shady shit. It''s possible someone used my address simply because they knew it. Or¡­ this is just a coincidence."

    There was a pause. I could feel his doubt hanging in the air, heavy between us. He hesitated, his eyes lingering on the open doorway. I wasn¡¯t sure what he was waiting for, but I wasn¡¯t going to give him the chance to figure it out.

    I stepped forward again, my hand gripping the door a little tighter. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve got stuff to do,¡± I said, my tone firm. ¡°If you want answers, go to the authorities, but I can¡¯t help you. I don¡¯t know any Seths, and I sure as hell don¡¯t know anything about stolen passports.¡±

    Seth glanced back at me, his jaw tight. I could see the storm of frustration building in his eyes, but he stayed silent.

    I had to act. I couldn¡¯t risk him digging any deeper. ¡°Listen,¡± I added, my voice steady, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what happened to you, but this isn¡¯t the place for answers. You¡¯re wasting time here.¡±

    Seth¡¯s eyes flickered with something: disappointment, frustration, maybe a mix of both¡­ but he didn¡¯t argue. He exhaled sharply, and then, finally, he stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides. ¡°You know¡­ maybe you¡¯re right. The police back home could do nothing since you live in another state. I figured I could just drive out here and see what¡¯s what. I guess I''ll head into town and see what the St. Louis PD think¡­¡± Seth threatened. ¡°In any case¡­ this isn¡¯t over.¡±

    He finished speaking quickly and turned to leave without ceremony. I didn¡¯t shut the door until I was sure he was gone, his figure disappearing into the cab of a truck that soon backed out of the driveway. Someone else was inside with him¡­ but I couldn¡¯t make out if it was a man or a woman. But¡­ Sam¡¯s family had caught a whiff of something Sam had done. He had to have been the one. Once they backed out of our driveway and drove out, I felt my fingers loosen their grip on the doorknob. Only then did I exhale, the tension in my chest easing slightly. It was over¡­ for now.

    I ran up the stairs and bounded down the hallway to my room. I saw Eleanor there sleeping. I woke her quickly, jarring her awake, ¡°We have a huge problem!"

    Eleanor opened her eyes shakily. She was in a panic for a few seconds like someone else''s life was in danger. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

 Chapter 61 - Cold

    My eyes cracked open, back to reality. The night hung heavy overhead, but the moon cut through it, bouncing off the white snow like a spotlight. Flakes drifted down, catching that light, but I barely noticed. I was flat on my back, staring at the sky, feeling the cold burrow into me. But it wasn¡¯t just the cold. Something deeper gnawed at me, something that¡¯d been festering since I finally figured it all out.

    Death. I didn¡¯t fear it anymore. It was always there, always tied to me, and now it wasn¡¯t some vague idea or distant threat. Death was the real deal. The thing that gave me power wasn¡¯t just some dark force. It was Death itself¡­ the Grim Fucking Reaper. Once I got that through my head, everything that had happened so far started making sense.

    I let out a slow breath, watching it fog up and disappear. I was Death¡¯s monster, not his messenger or his acquaintance. I was who he sent when he needed bodies on the pavement. When it was time to prune the world''s dead weight and corrupted branches, he sent me. And weirdly enough, I was fine with it. There¡¯s a kind of peace in knowing you belong to something inevitable. Maybe because it all seemed so much bigger than I was, unstoppable in a way that wouldn¡¯t even allow me to imagine fighting it. No more running, no more doubts. I knew the truth now¡­ took me long enough to see it.

    I glanced around. Winter had arrived. Last thing I remembered, it was barely mid-fall season. Cold had started creeping in, but nothing like this. Now, we were deep in it. Frosty the fucking snowman could be standing over me, watching me wake up, if anyone had gotten around to building him yet.

    As the snow piled around me, I replayed Peter Grimwood¡¯s final words. His threats echoed in my mind, cutting through the stillness of the night like a blade. He had found my family¡­ the one thing I had fought to protect; the daughter I had kept secret from this monstrous life. He knew about her¡­ had seen her¡­ touched her. I wished I could kill him again.

    Even more urgent at the moment¡­ he had done something to Autumn. I swallowed hard at the thought, my chest tightening, but I couldn¡¯t shake the truth. Autumn¡­ the girl who had somehow become an anchor in this endless storm¡­ Peter had touched her too. After everything I¡¯d been through, after all the blood and darkness, I had found something real. Something fragile and precious, and it might be in jeopardy. I didn¡¯t know what it was yet, or what fruit it would bear.

    I clenched my fists in rage, feeling the familiar power stir beneath my skin. My connection to Death was absolute now, but that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t be hurt in other ways¡­ through others. I hated Peter for whatever he¡¯d done. He had marked Autumn, bound her with some kind of power, some evil that I couldn¡¯t understand yet. I had no clue what it was, or how it would present itself¡­ but I knew it would. I¡¯d thought I¡¯d found some solace in her, some escape from the monster I¡¯d become, but now it was all twisted, tainted by the touch of that necromancer.

    I remembered the way Peter had looked at me, the smugness in his eyes as he made his threats. His voice had been like venom, sinking into me, and I could see the sick satisfaction he got as he spoke the words. He didn¡¯t just hate the collective families anymore¡­ he hated me; for interrupting his plans. For getting in the way.

    But Peter was gone now; taken by Death itself, just like the others who had stood in my way. I had watched him fall, watched the fear spread across his face in those last moments when he realized the true power I had drawn from. He¡¯d been so sure of himself, so sure he had control. But no one could stand against Death. Not even him¡­ not even the Unseen Primeval in its own dimension. Yet¡­ the effects of Peter¡¯s power might still linger.

    I knew the first thing I needed to do was find Patrick. Whatever Peter had done, Patrick was tied to it. He gave him that hairbrush. He whispered in Patrick''s ear¡­ told him things¡­ and I got the feeling that wasn¡¯t the only time. I felt it in the vision¡­ saw it in Patrick''s eyes. There was a familiarity in the terror for sure. Like he had hoped not to see him again. Peter had gone to him more than the time I saw in the vision. How did it even happen? Wouldn¡¯t Annabelle have seen it? Shelta?

    I didn¡¯t know. I had nothing to go on. However, I did have one echo of words that played in my mind that gave me peace. I trusted in Annabelle¡¯s words, that Peter wouldn¡¯t kill any others. Whatever it was that he¡¯d done with that hairbrush¡­ we¡¯d figure it out.

    A strange calm washed over me as I lay there in the snow, the memory of his terror replaying in my mind. He was gone. Forever. And with him, some part of my old self had been ripped away, leaving nothing but this, the cold, the darkness, the certainty. I was part of something bigger now, something unstoppable. I didn¡¯t have to fight it anymore. I was embracing it.

    The night pressed in on me, silent, but I felt no fear. The snow, the cold, the woods, it all felt like home. My world had been reduced to this, and I was no longer pretending otherwise. This life¡­ it would be hard. Very hard! Jon told me so. Annabelle told me so. I knew it, just based on my time as this thing. Now, knowing what I know, there was no escaping it. It was my burden to bear. I might have friends now; I might have Autumn¡­ our connection for a mere moment¡­ but there would come a day when I would be alone again. Truly and utterly alone in a twisted world, and I would be the darkest part of it. Shadow¡­ and death. But¡­ that day was not today.

    Autumn, my daughter, my family... I''d protect them, no questions asked. No second-guessing, no hesitation. It was simple: anyone who dared come after them would be snuffed out, no matter where they crawled from. Some twisted beast, something out of another world¡­ it didn¡¯t matter. Death wasn¡¯t my enemy; it walked with me, step for step. I wasn¡¯t the monster I used to fear. I¡¯d become something worse. Something colder, more ruthless. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s right or wrong to think this way, but if someone came after my family, they were as good as dead. No warnings, no second chances. Just death, swift and final.

    The only thing that scared me now was losing them. The day they¡¯d be gone, when the last one would pass, leaving me alone. I¡¯d still be here, long after they were gone. Autumn, my family¡­ how much longer would they even share this world with me?

    I realized then and there, I had to make every minute with them count. All that bullshit about keeping my distance, thinking it was safer for them, was gone. Ashes. A fear I couldn¡¯t even fully remember now. I wasn¡¯t scared of what kind of life they¡¯d have anymore. I wasn¡¯t going to hide away, pretending it was for their own good.

    The decision came quickly, no second-guessing. I was going back to them, all of them. The only question now was how to do it right. I was ready, but I had to make sure they were. How do you drop a bomb like that on your family? How do you tell them, ¡®Hey, not dead, been hiding from you for years! Oh yeah, I¡¯m not really alive either; I¡¯m actually powered by Death and the essence of some kind of Primeval killing machine. Miss me?¡¯ I¡¯d have to work on that.

    I got to my feet slowly, snow sliding off my frozen clothes. Night hung over me, heavy and cold, like a shroud. My boots crunched through the snow, about a foot and a half deep, but I moved forward, steady. Nothing held me back anymore. This is who I am now, and I accepted it completely. No turning back. No weakness. No mercy. Just swift death for anyone in my way.

    I had to get to Autumn. There was no time to waste. Whatever Peter had done, I needed to make sure she was okay. She was my top priority now that I was back. I knew, logically, she¡¯d be safe, as long as Annabelle was right, but the gnawing feeling in my gut told me I couldn¡¯t just sit still. I needed to see her, now.

    The snow crunched beneath my boots as I moved through the city, each step sinking into the fresh powder that blanketed the streets. The cold was biting, slipping through the gaps in my clothes, but I barely acknowledged it. The city, usually bustling, was eerily quiet now under the heavy snow. Cars sat frozen in place, coated in thick layers of powder. Streetlights flickered above, casting a dull glow through the swirling flakes, illuminating empty sidewalks and abandoned storefronts. Everything looked so different like the whole world had been dipped in silence. The wind cut through the streets, carrying the sharp scent of cold metal and distant wood smoke. This winter storm looked like it had been going for a few days at least to build up to what it had become. I hadn¡¯t ever seen snow like this in the few years I loomed over St. Louis.

    I kept my head down, hands shoved deep in my pockets, moving quickly but careful not to slip on the icy patches that had formed beneath the snow. That would be embarrassing¡­ especially if someone knew me. The big bad monster busts his ass in the middle of the road.

    Buildings loomed on either side of me, their brick facades frosted over, windows fogged with condensation. The occasional flurry of movement from inside told me people were still around, but it felt like a ghost town out here. Each block blurred into the next as I pushed through the drifts, my focus locked on reaching her.

    The houses on my way to her had taken on that storybook winter look; white rooftops, trees hanging low with the weight of snow, fences half-buried. But it didn¡¯t feel magical. It felt too quiet. Too still. As I rounded the corner, off a highway into the west county area, to their street, my heart pounded a little harder. Their home sat isolated on the large property, blending into the backdrop of trees like something out of a postcard. Snow covered the yard, untouched and pristine, the bushes along the perimeter of the house sagged under the weight of it.

    I stopped just across the street, eyes on the house. Calm. Too calm. I couldn¡¯t tell if anyone was home. I moved closer, my breath fogging in the cold air, my footsteps almost silent under the thick snow. The windows were dark, and for a moment, my chest tightened. Were they even here?

    Then, movement. I caught a glimpse of her through the front window, passing by. Autumn. She moved in and out of view, going about her evening like nothing had changed. She was safe. Life was continuing inside that house.

    She had just finished in the shower and had come down in her little workout shorts and loose shirt she liked to sleep in. Her smell overtook me as soon as she was in range, flooding my mind with another feeling that calmed me even more, the sense of her presence.

    I stomped through the front yard, pushing my way through the thick snow, leaving a messy path behind me. I knocked, the sound dull against the wood, but it was loud enough to make her stop whatever she was doing inside.

    I heard her breath catch, the kind of sound you make when you''re not expecting anyone. She froze, probably wondering who¡¯d show up unannounced on a night like this. Then she moved, heading toward the main door. When our eyes met through the window, I could see the shock on her face.

    Seeing her again hit me like a punch to the gut. It felt like I¡¯d been missing her for a lifetime, and now, here she was, right in front of me. Her face¡­ it was like seeing it again for the first time. The sharp lines of her jaw, the way her chin curved just right, the softness of her lips. And her eyes, those deep brown eyes, staring straight into mine like she could see everything I was already. It was like she didn¡¯t even need to say anything; I already knew exactly what was going through her head.

    She looked strong, like always. Her body was all muscle, toned, and tight like she was ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice. But at the same time, she was so protective of me¡­ cared for me. Everything about her just screamed power and control, yet there was this softness, this familiarity I had missed more than anything.

    I couldn¡¯t believe I was finally back with her. After all this time jumping between worlds, slaying monsters¡­ creatures, titans¡­ it felt surreal. Those worlds¡­ those things were big, looming large in my mind¡­ too big to comprehend. But this¡­ this world, with her¡­ it was small and fragile. It was the most important of all of them.

    Here she was. And with just one look, I could see the relief wash over her. She didn¡¯t even hesitate after that; she was already moving, fast as ever, like she couldn¡¯t wait a second longer. She practically flew toward the door. She fumbled with the locks, her hands moving too fast, the sound of metal clicking and sliding in the silence. Then she ripped the door open, throwing it to the side without a second thought, and jumped straight at me.

    In an instant, we collided, our arms locking around each other as if we were afraid to let go. She clung to me, her grip almost desperate, like she¡¯d been holding onto a silent fear the whole time I was gone. Her body trembled against mine, and I could feel the weight of her relief in every shuddered breath she took. Her head pressed into my chest, and I hugged her back, just as tight, like if I let go, I might lose her right there in that moment.

    We stood there, the cold biting at us, snowflakes drifting down around us and inside the house, but none of it mattered. She was here. She was safe. And in that moment, that was all I could ever want, all I needed. Her warmth, her presence¡­ it was everything.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± she breathed, her voice shaky and broken, her body pressing into mine like she couldn¡¯t get close enough. ¡°I thought¡­ I thought I lost you. I didn¡¯t know if you were coming back¡­¡±

    The sound of her voice, the crack in it, ripped through me. I pulled her even closer, trying to reassure her, to take away the pain she must have felt. ¡°I¡¯m okay¡­ we¡¯re okay,¡± I whispered, though my own voice felt too small for what I wanted to say. ¡°Everything¡¯s alright now. I¡¯m back.¡±

    We stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, letting the silence fill the space between us, thankful for every second we had together again. Her scent filled my nose, that familiar mix of warmth and home, and I held her tighter, feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine. Just the feel of her again, the closeness, the reality of it¡­ it was almost too much; like a dream I thought I¡¯d never have again. I never wanted to let go, never wanted to lose this moment.

    ¡°Where have you been¡­ no one has heard anything from you¡­¡± Autumn said, pulling me inside her home. ¡°When Peter took you, they said he took you somewhere you may never come back from¡­¡± She shook the thought away, casting it into the abyss to never dwell on it again. Now that I was here, she could let it go. ¡°Then we saw you that night when Peter attacked. He touched you¡­¡± She placed her hand on my chest and neck where Peter had grabbed me and tried to steal my life force. ¡°Then, you vanished again¡­ both of you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just kind of¡­ woke up. I came straight here.¡± I was brutally honest, unsure of how to start telling her everything. ¡°A lot has happened recently¡­ it''s hard to explain it all away.¡±

    She tugged me deeper into her house, never releasing her grip on my wrist as she led me through the familiar, yet oddly empty, rooms. ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked, glancing around as we stepped inside.

    ¡°Kayla and Arthur are gone,¡± Autumn replied, glancing back at me with a conspiratorial smile. ¡°We can have some privacy over there if anyone comes back.¡± She pointed toward the guest side of the house. ¡°Mom and Dad are out in town dealing with some stuff. Not sure what¡­¡±

    I could sense where her mind was heading. There was a spark of urgency in her eyes, a need to reclaim the time she thought was lost to her. She was scared of losing me again, of being left with nothing but memories of what could have been. I could feel the weight of her worries, knowing she wouldn¡¯t admit it¡­ not even to herself.

    Autumn had to be terrified of just how deeply she felt for me, and what losing me for good would mean. I could almost see those fears hanging around her like a heavy necklace. She was afraid I¡¯d leave her so she could pursue a ¡°normal¡± life, while I got pulled deeper into darkness, where she couldn¡¯t go.

    I hadn¡¯t shared the truth about my true nature with anyone yet, not my deepest thoughts, and my most recent revelation, but Autumn would be the first. I wanted to tell her everything, but for tonight, there were other topics we needed to cover first.

    Once we reached the guest side of the house, she shut the door behind us with a soft click. The moment the door was closed, Autumn stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me down to her. She kissed me slowly, just like she always did. Her movements were deliberate, almost languid as if she were trying to savor every second of it. There was no rush; she wanted to make it last. We eased into the wall next to the door, losing ourselves in the moment.

    Time felt suspended as we moved through the small kitchen area, brushing against the counters as we made our way to the living room couch. We finally settled into the silence of the guest side, me sinking into the cushions with Autumn perched in my lap.

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    ¡°You¡¯re different,¡± she said, pulling back to look at me, a hint of concern in her eyes.

    I tilted my head, curious. ¡°How do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ quieter,¡± she said with a light laugh. ¡°If that¡¯s even possible.¡±

    I nodded slowly, realizing she was right. I probably was acting differently, more subdued. It was the calm that settled over me now, a shift in my perspective. I felt at ease, finally knowing the answers I had been searching for.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve got a lot on my mind,¡± I admitted, hoping to steer the conversation toward the weight I had been carrying.

    ¡°What happened to you?¡± Autumn asked, adjusting herself to sit more beside me than on top. She leaned back against the arm of the couch, her legs draped over my lap. Pulling a thick blanket from the back of the cushions, she wrapped it around herself, clearly feeling the chill in her thin shorts and shirt. ¡°If you want to talk about it, I¡¯m here to listen.¡±

    I nodded, bracing myself to recount the horrors I¡¯d endured in the place where Peter had sent me. ¡°It was¡­ unbearable,¡± I began, my voice heavy with the memories. ¡°Just trying to breathe there felt impossible. There was fire¡­ everywhere. It was just like Mercy¡¯s hellfire. You remember how red it was?¡± I glanced at her, hoping she¡¯d remember that vivid color, so hard to describe.

    ¡°Barely¡­ almost like blood red¡­ but like, alive and hungry.,¡± she replied, her brow furrowing as she dug into her own recollections.

    ¡°Exactly like that,¡± I pressed on, the memories flooding back. ¡°The world looked like it had been scorched by it. It felt like I was walking through a furnace. The moment I stepped foot there, the heat clawed at me, tearing me apart from the inside out.¡±

    Autumn ran her fingers gently along the unmarked skin of my wrist, her touch both soothing and charged with worry. ¡°I can¡¯t even imagine,¡± she murmured, her voice laced with the weight of pain as she envisioned my suffering.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied, swallowed by the memories. ¡°It was suffocating, but I couldn¡¯t stop. I kept moving, driven by the beast inside¡­ the need to escape, to find my way back to you and everyone else. I knew I had to get out to stop Peter. The urgency of that thought propelled me forward in the worst moments. But the monster¡­ it wouldn¡¯t die there. The fires literally consumed me, eating my body piece by piece, burning away pieces of me¡­ a lot.¡± I shook my head as the thoughts replayed. ¡°But the monster kept healing me fast enough, so I didn¡¯t just burn away. It was a nightmare. Like being a piece of meat caught in a tug-of-war between two dogs; fire and regeneration.¡±

    ¡°How did you get out?¡± Autumn asked, her voice trembling slightly at my words. She tried, but her face told me that she was struggling to even imagine such a place. ¡°Charles was saying there¡¯s no way out. I really thought that,¡± her voice faltered, trailing off. I could see the distress washing over her as she remembered her fears. ¡°It felt like I¡¯d never see you again.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± I assured her, leaning in closer to make my promise feel more tangible. ¡°Like I told you before, I¡¯ll stay as long as you want me to.¡± I could see the tension in her shoulders relax slightly, but I knew I needed to share the whole truth. ¡°Peter sent me there because he couldn¡¯t kill me. He said he was leaving me for his master. But once I found Peter¡¯s master¡­ I killed him.¡±

    The words hung in the air, heavy with the gravity of what I had done¡­ what I had been in that place. I hoped that sharing this truth would draw us closer and ease her worries, but the tension only thickened.

    ¡°You fought it?¡± Autumn¡¯s voice trembled slightly, curiosity and fear intertwining. ¡°What was it?¡±

    ¡°It was¡­ massive,¡± I replied, my thoughts drifting back to that grotesque creature. ¡°The sheer size was¡­ beyond description. It was something called a Primeval. Apparently, there are more of them, lurking in places like that. Maybe even here in this world¡­ hidden in the shadows.¡± I paused, my fingers tapping nervously against my chest. ¡°The monster¡­ there¡¯s so much more to it than I ever realized. It helped me¡­ showed me more of itself.¡±

    A flicker of concern passed over Autumn¡¯s face as she stared into my eyes, her expression intense like she could see right through to my very soul. She lifted her head off my chest, studying me as if searching for answers. ¡°Something else happened, didn¡¯t it? I can tell there¡¯s more¡­ something you¡¯re not saying.¡± Her gaze pierced through the layers of my defenses.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said plainly, feeling the weight of the truth settle in my chest. ¡°Something did happen¡­ when Peter was killed.¡±

    When Autumn pulled back enough to see my face, she seemed worried. Then, her face settled out to the same calm demeanor she always had with me in our alone moments. ¡°Whatever it is, you can tell me.¡±

    I took a moment, preparing myself to literally speak the words. I still felt my calm; that wouldn''t change. The peace came from my purpose, and it protected my mind, but outside worries did creep around the borders of that calm.

    ¡°I know¡­¡± was all I said to her.

    Autumn''s eyes were blank at first, with no clue as to what I meant. I knew she''d get there, so I waited while her mind put the pieces together. As I thought, it only took her a minute or so before she realized what I was talking about. When she cut her eyes back up to me quickly, I only nodded.

    ¡°You did? How?¡± Autumn asked.

    I thought it interesting that she did not actually ask what I was but instead was curious when I found out. She honestly didn''t care what I was; it didn''t matter to her. She was just excited that I finally had my answer. I hope that would stay the same after she knew.

    ¡°When he took Peter and me to the in-between, he killed Peter¡­ not me. Everything had been adding up slowly over the past two years, more so the last few months. It''s literally been like a trail of breadcrumbs that my brain has been trying to ignore. I''ve been trying to explain things away and never say the words out loud. Still, the voice in my head just got too loud to ignore. When I was in that hell dimension, looking that Primeval in the eyes and seeing the way he looked at me... I knew.¡± I tried to explain to get her there a little more before I dropped the hammer.

    Autumn¡¯s eyes still looked wide with excitement, but there was a slight hint of something else behind them. I think deep in her heart, she knew that whatever I was would have to be something powerful and beyond anything she knew.

    ¡°Once I say it, there''s no taking it back,¡± I warned her. ¡°Things might change¡­¡±

    ¡°Sam, it''s okay. Just tell me,¡± Autumn assured. Her mind couldn¡¯t perceive what could be so bad that it made me drag my feet.

    "I''m not something your family can fight," I began, my voice thick with grim finality. "I''m not some creature you can read about in your family''s bestiaries. My power isn''t even my own. It''s just a small piece of something older¡­ darker. The first to ever make a deal with him¡­ the entity from the fields." I paused, watching the unease creep into Autumn¡¯s eyes, her grip on my hand tightening as I continued. "The monster inside me is a part of the life force of a Primeval¡­ the very first Primeval. Ancient, powerful, and starving. Its hunger is endless, and it only craves one thing: to kill, to destroy. But that¡¯s only the surface. The entity¡­ he''s something far beyond that. He claimed that first Primeval as his own."

    The words felt like poison on my tongue, and I struggled to say them, trying to deliver the truth piece by piece to make it easier on her mind. ¡°It was called¡­ Myoordrakien, or something close to that. The entity told me that was how my mind could comprehend it, but its real name¡­ it¡¯s far beyond what I can even hear, let alone say or explain.¡± The name itself felt like a shadow stretching across the room, cold and suffocating.

    Autumn''s eyes widened, her face blank as she tried to grasp the enormity of what I was telling her. It was like dumping an ocean of truth into her all at once, and I knew it was overwhelming. ¡°Myoor¡­ Myoord¡­¡± she stammered, attempting to say the name herself.

    ¡°¡­drakien. Myoordrakien,¡± I said, helping her through it.

    She repeated it under her breath, her voice small. "Myoordrakien." She squeezed my hand again, her thoughts clearly racing, but the word itself meant nothing to her; just a strange, foreboding jumble of sounds. There was no weight to it, not yet. "If the thing inside you is one of these Primevals¡­ Myoordrakien¡­ then who is the entity? They¡¯re not the same thing? How can he keep something like that under control?"

    Her questions lingered in the air like a fog, dense and chilling. I took a deep breath, struggling to find the right way to explain it. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a little more complicated,¡± I admitted, my voice faltering.

    Autumn didn¡¯t waver. She was steady, though I could see the fear slowly creeping into her features. "It''s going to be okay, Sam," she urged, her voice soft but determined. "Who is he?"

    I looked down at the floor, my mind swirling with the truth I had to tell. There was no more hiding it, no more dancing around what I had become. "There¡¯s a reason he can trade lives like he did for Eleanor. A reason he¡¯s the one maintaining the balance in this world. He can¡¯t touch this world physically, so he needs someone here. Someone in the world of the living¡­ me." I could feel the words sinking into her, deeper with every sentence. "He chose me. He made me, putting a piece of his bound Primeval inside my soul."

    Autumn¡¯s face hardened with concentration as she tried to piece it all together. She wasn¡¯t speaking, but I could see her thoughts working in overdrive, trying to understand the impossible truth I was hinting at. I realized then that I couldn¡¯t sugarcoat it any longer.

    "He takes lives to keep the scales balanced¡­ the balance between life and death. Because he is¡­" I trailed off, giving her one last chance to figure it out herself.

    ¡°Is what?¡± she asked, her voice trembling now.

    I drew in a slow, deep breath, preparing for the inevitable. Then I let it out, the truth spilling from me like an unforgiving shadow. "He¡¯s Death, Autumn. Death¡­ and I¡¯m his monster."

    For a moment, the room felt colder, like the very air had thickened with the weight of my confession. I could feel it then¡­ Autumn¡¯s hand pulled away from mine, ever so slightly. Her eyes were wide with fear. It was written all over her face¡­ the chilling horror, the uncertainty. Death had always touched her world at different times¡­ but now it was present in a way she couldn¡¯t escape. Death had a physical presence in the living world. It was sitting right beside her, wearing the face of someone she cared for.

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot¡­ I know,¡± I said, my voice quiet but thick with the weight of what I had revealed. Autumn didn¡¯t respond, her hand trembling as she pulled it completely away from me, as if the very touch of my skin had become something foreign, something dangerous. The truth hung between us, heavy and oppressive, and I could see it; how the fear gripped her, how it consumed her thoughts. Death itself¡­ was a heavy burden.

    Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated as the realization set in, and the more she processed it, the more her body recoiled, her breathing coming in shallow gasps. She backed away from me, her feet moving without conscious thought, instinct kicking in. The empty glass on the counter caught the edge of her elbow, and it fell, shattering against the floor, splintering into jagged shards that scattered near our feet. Autumn barely seemed to notice, stumbling past the broken pieces in her bare feet as if her mind had only one objective¡­ distance. Distance from me.

    But it wasn¡¯t fear that I would harm her. I could see it in her eyes, she was wrestling with her reaction, trying to understand why her body moved as though it were facing death itself; in a way, it was. It was a fight or flight response, pure and primal. Her mind was grasping for a way out, an escape from the entity she now understood was tethered to me. She wasn¡¯t running from me¡­ she was running from what I represented.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I just¡­¡± Her voice wavered, her hand lifting apologetically as she stopped in the kitchen, her body still shaking. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I did that. I¡¯m sorry, I still know it¡¯s you,¡± she said, breathless, trying to steady herself. ¡°I know you won¡¯t hurt me¡­¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I whispered, staying seated, not daring to get up. ¡°He told me I had to discover it on my own. If someone told me what I was¡­ what he was, my mind wouldn¡¯t survive it. Maybe it¡¯s similar for you. Maybe human thought can¡¯t fully process something so¡­¡± I struggled for the right word.

    ¡°Inescapable,¡± Autumn finished for me, her voice barely above a whisper. She seemed to choke on the word like it was too much for her throat to handle.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, watching as she leaned heavily against the counter, her arms braced against the cool black marble. Her breath came in ragged bursts, her chest rising and falling with the effort of calming her pounding heart. She kept looking from me to the floor, her gaze flicking between the reality she couldn¡¯t accept and the floor beneath her, as though grounding herself in the cold tile might keep her from unraveling completely.

    She rested her forehead on the counter, her body still trembling. The coldness of the stone must have been soothing against the heat of panic in her veins, trying to pull her back from the edge.

    ¡°Is this how you reacted when you found out?¡± she asked, her voice cracking as she stared down at the shattered pieces of glass at her feet.

    ¡°No.¡± I paused, thinking back. ¡°For me, when I finally pieced it all together¡­ it was like a veil had been lifted. Everything became clear, but that clarity¡­ wasn¡¯t comforting. Being¡­ this, having this role, I think I¡¯ve always felt it in some way, like a shadow in the back of my mind. Maybe that made it easier for me to accept. But it didn¡¯t make it less terrifying.¡±

    Autumn slowly lifted her head, her eyes clouded with disbelief. ¡°It¡¯s funny,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°Everything makes so much sense now.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, curious what realizations had clicked into place for her.

    ¡°Mom¡­ Mercy and Phineas¡­ coming back from that place,¡± she muttered, half to herself. ¡°All of it. Everything that didn¡¯t add up before¡­ it¡¯s all so obvious now. Every question we ever had about you. I just¡­ can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t see it sooner.¡±

    ¡°Death is the last great unknown¡­ I think it¡¯s hard for our minds to go there for answers to anything in this world.¡± I stood up, moving slowly from the couch, careful not to make any sudden movements that might send her into another wave of panic. I approached cautiously, staying on the other side of the counter, giving her the space she needed. Her eyes tracked my shadow as it loomed over the floor, and when she finally looked up, the fear was still there, raw and tangible.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave tonight,¡± I said gently, backing away slightly to ease her tension. ¡°I¡¯ll give you time to process this. Take as long as you need. I¡¯ll come back when you¡¯re ready.¡± It was the only thing I could offer her, distance, space. Time to come to terms with the reality I had thrust upon her.

    Autumn didn¡¯t say anything. She just nodded, her whole body trembling as she stared down at the floor, trying to anchor herself in the aftermath of everything. I lingered for a moment, then turned toward the door.

    ¡°There¡¯s more I need to talk to you about,¡± I murmured, the weight of it all pressing heavily against my chest. My thoughts turned to Peter and what he had done: how Patrick had gotten his hands on something of hers, how he seemed to know some dark secret that Peter shared. But for now, looking at her, hearing her voice, and feeling her presence¡­ it grounded me, and quieted the storm inside. She was safe, standing here, whole and unharmed. The sight of the snow falling gently outside, the slow, steady transformation of the city; told me she had been safe for a while now, however long that had been. ¡°But it can wait,¡± I added softly, my gaze never leaving her face. ¡°I¡¯ll get a new phone, and I¡¯ll text you on it. So you can reach out¡­ when you¡¯re ready.¡±

    She nodded slowly, her movements deliberate, like she was still struggling to catch her breath. ¡°I will,¡± she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of everything unsaid between us. There was a hesitance in her eyes, a deep, unspoken fear that flickered just below the surface.

    As she stood, her movements were slow, and cautious, as though her body wasn¡¯t entirely hers to command. She moved toward me, closing the space between us with painstaking slowness. When she leaned in to kiss me, her lips trembled, the touch gentle but hesitant. It wasn¡¯t because she didn¡¯t want to¡­ no, the desire was there, buried beneath the layers of fear. Her body and mind were still reeling, still processing the reality of what I was, of what she had learned.

    The kiss was tentative like she was forcing herself through the motions, her breath catching in her throat. The weight of the knowledge¡­ the realization that I wasn¡¯t just a man, but something far darker, something tied to Death itself; it hung over her like a specter. She had stood before me, next to me, and kissed me, all while knowing she was in the presence of Death¡­ the Grim Reaper, the bringer of finality.

    Her hands, cold and trembling, brushed against my cheek, but there was a distance in her eyes, something far off and unreachable. I could feel it, the instinct to pull away, to run, battling with the part of her that knew me, the part that loved me despite everything. I didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t dare press her further. The moment hung between us, fragile and taut, like a string stretched to its limit.

    Finally, she pulled back, her eyes clouded with uncertainty, her lips slightly parted as though she wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, she just stood there, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps, her body still trembling from the enormity of it all.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be here when you¡¯re ready,¡± I whispered, my voice soft but steady, as if trying to anchor her in this moment, trying to reassure her that no matter how terrifying the truth was, I wasn¡¯t going anywhere.

    She nodded again, her motions slow and deliberate, almost as if her body was on autopilot while her mind lagged behind, still grappling with everything I had revealed. Her eyes held a distant, vacant look, like she was seeing me, but also wasn¡¯t¡­ lost in thought, in fear, in disbelief. The weight of the truth had settled in, and the once-familiar connection between us felt strained, the thread now frayed by the knowledge of what I really was. I knew it wouldn¡¯t last¡­ she¡¯d grow accustomed to it. It would just take time.

    I didn¡¯t press her. There was nothing more I could say, nothing that could ease the overwhelming burden of reality I had just dropped on her shoulders. Without another word, I turned, my movements slower than usual, each step feeling like I was trudging through the thick weight of everything unsaid between us. The soft thud of my boots against the hardwood floor echoed faintly through the cold, silent guest wing. Her figure remained still as I moved away, rooted to the spot, like a statue left in the wake of a devastating revelation.

    I stepped into the dimly lit hallway, leaving her behind in that frozen moment, feeling the cool air of the empty house wrap around me like a cold embrace. It was strange, how silent everything was, the usual hum of life absent. The house felt abandoned, eerie, as though it too had recoiled from the weight of the truth. Her family, usually scattered throughout the place, was nowhere to be found, leaving the halls empty and haunting. Wherever they were, it was far from here.

    I paced through the halls, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet as I made my exit. The silence was heavy, pressing down like a weight on my chest, thick and suffocating as if the house itself was holding its breath. My thoughts raced, darting between the memory of her wide-eyed fear and the knowledge that there was no undoing what I had just revealed.

    I reached the outer door and stepped outside into the biting cold. The snow was falling steadily, thick and soft, still blanketing the yard in a pristine layer of white. The air was cold, sharp against my skin, but beneath the catching image of the snow, I could feel it¡­ the heaviness that lingered, thick with the gravity of what had just transpired inside. It was like the world itself could sense the shift, the dark truth now hanging in the air between Autumn and me.

    As the door clicked shut behind me with a soft, final sound, the silence that followed was deafening. No wind stirred, no cars passed in the distance, only the soft patter of snowflakes falling to the ground¡­ and for a moment, the world felt heavier, darker.

    I stood there for a moment, my breath misting in the cold night air, watching the snowfall. The city was still, silent like it was waiting for something to break the tension. The shadows stretched long, creeping up the walls of the house, and I could feel the darkness within me stirring, ever-present, but quiet for now. But I knew¡­ the revelation wasn¡¯t over. Not yet. I had someone to see.

 Chapter 62 - Guidance and Warnings

    A day or two passed since I spoke with Autumn and told her everything. As intended, I got a phone again. I was shy on cash though, and just straight up stealing one wasn¡¯t an option. It either wouldn¡¯t activate, or they¡¯d just shut it off. I had to get one legit somehow. So¡­ I broke out my criminal abilities¡­ and robbed a place. No one was there, so it wasn¡¯t that bad. Plus, I''m sure the place was insured so they would be fine. It was a jewelry store, and it was positioned in a pretty nice area in town. Obviously, I wasn¡¯t there to take the jewelry that was too much work. I¡¯d have to sell it somehow, and I''m sure it would be flagged as stolen or something. Instead, I went to see what they had in the back office. Lo and behold there it was, a small safe that held everyone else at bay. Not me though. I beat the shit out of that thing; warped and broke the hinges until the front door creaked open enough for me to get my fingers into a little gap. Then I ripped it apart with my inhuman strength. I didn¡¯t even take everything, just all the tens and twenties¡­ fifties¡­ okay, and the hundreds; but I left all the fives and ones. Oh yeah, and the change. I didn¡¯t like change.

    With all my new cash I got myself a brand-new cell phone, prepaid obviously, and it was cool. This was nicer than any phone I had before, even in my normal life before all this. Prepaid was really making a comeback. This one felt solid.

    I texted Autumn, her number so ingrained in my mind it felt like second nature. One of those things you just can¡¯t shake is the number of the girl who¡¯s always there in the back of your thoughts. I sent a simple message, letting her know it was me. No pressure, no expectations. I wasn¡¯t waiting for a response, just giving her the space to reach out if she wanted.

    Then, to my surprise, she did.

    ¡°Thank you for telling me everything. It means a lot that I¡¯m the first one you told.¡±

    ¡°How are you doing?¡± I texted back, feeling the weight behind her words.

    ¡°I won¡¯t pretend it¡¯s not a lot, but don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to push me away,¡± she sent, followed quickly by, ¡°I just need more time to adjust, I guess.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be around... not going anywhere. Promise.¡±

    ¡°Me neither.¡± Her reply made something settle in my chest, those words doing more than she probably knew.

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s coming over tomorrow, some big family meeting. I haven¡¯t told them I saw you yet. Not sure if you wanted everyone to know you¡¯re back¡­ but maybe we can meet up afterward. I just want to be near you again.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but smile at the screen. The fact that she hadn¡¯t told anyone yet, that she was protecting whatever I needed, even from her own family, said more than words ever could.

    ¡°Me too¡­¡± I typed, my fingers lingering for a moment.

    ¡°Everything with Peter¡­ I feel like we haven¡¯t had much time. I don¡¯t want it to stay that way.¡±

    ¡°Me neither. I¡¯m heading somewhere right now, but let me know when you want to meet. If you want to tell your family I¡¯m back, that¡¯s fine. If they need me, just say the word.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    I slipped my phone back into my pocket, her last message still fresh in my mind. There were things I needed to do, but the thought of her waiting... it made everything feel different. Like a piece of me was out there¡­ calm and happy.

    I began walking through illuminated woods, breathing in crisp air. The trees were all dusted with snow, their branches holding a layer in the windless snowstorm. The flakes just heavily drifted down in the eerie silence of the night and plopped themselves down anywhere they found purchase. I slowly made my way out of the random patch of woods I passed through and found myself on a road. It seemed familiar to me, and I quickly paced in the direction I found just as recognizable.

    In a few short minutes pacing down the frosted road in the midnight hours, I made it. A small humble home sat like a lone sentinel on this dreary snow snow-ridden road. A lone soul braved the chill of the falling snow and biting winter, rocking in a chair on his front porch. His eyes were glued on me the moment I came into view like he knew I was coming.

    I caught his eyes long before I reached him, never looking away, the understanding between us unspoken but undeniable. Abel had always been strange, more aware than he let on, and I could feel the weight of that knowledge as I trudged through the snow, each step drawing me closer to his porch. The night was motionless around us like the world was paused and this snow was just a screensaver. Nothing moved as I approached the old black man, whose eyes were framed by weary lines of age. I stopped at the bottom of the steps, the old boards creaking slightly under my weight.

    ¡°Abel¡­¡± I greeted him, my voice low, and respectful.

    ¡°Sam¡­¡± His reply was simple, but his voice was sharp, cutting through the cold air with a knowing edge.

    ¡°You knew I¡¯d come,¡± I said, not a question, but a fact we both understood. His presence out here at this hour was odd enough. But the way he saw me the moment I saw him told me there was way more to this dude than I knew yet.

    ¡°Felt it¡­¡± he nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering, almost like he had been expecting this moment for far longer than I had realized.

    I drew in a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs and settling in my chest. Oddly, I felt calm. No fear clawed at me; no uncertainty gnawed at my mind. I just¡­ was. The truth had a way of doing that; stripping everything down to its bare bones, leaving only what was absolute. I didn¡¯t know if it was a good thing or bad. I guess it was just about perspective.

    Abel''s voice broke the silence again, softer this time. ¡°I can feel it too, you know.¡±

    I glanced at him, new uncertainty coiling in my stomach like a serpent ready to strike. ¡°Feel what?¡± I managed, my voice barely rising above the whisper of falling snow.

    ¡°The Primeval. Peter¡¯s source of power¡­ it¡¯s gone¡­¡± Abel''s breath formed a mist that mingled with the chill in the air as his gaze drifted into the bleak white expanse, into a world suffocated by winter¡¯s grip. ¡°There¡¯s a ripple spreading through our world because of what you¡¯ve done. An aspect of power that doesn¡¯t exist anymore. Taken back into the void. Things are changing. Beings are spreading out¡­ trying to fill the gaps left in its wake.¡±

    Silence enveloped us. I didn¡¯t need to respond; he spoke the truth with a haunting clarity. Something deep within me had shifted as well, settling like the heavy snow blanketing the earth beneath my feet. The internal struggle that had raged for so long had finally ceased, surrendering to an unsettling acceptance of what I was¡­ what I was destined to become. Gone were the days of conflict, replaced by a chilling resolve. Just purpose, stark and unyielding.

    ¡°That thing inside you has awakened too, I see,¡± Abel murmured, his eyes piercing through to the depths of my being as if he could see the wrath and destruction that swirled just beneath the surface.

    ¡°You sense that?¡± I asked, disbelief tinged with a thread of fear.

    ¡°It¡¯s like the beat of a deep drum,¡± he replied, his voice low and rhythmic, echoing ominously. ¡°Somewhere far away, but I can hear it¡­ from that distant place. Boom¡­ boom¡­ boom.¡± Abel mimicked the sound with a deliberate slowness that sent a shiver down my spine.

    I knew precisely what he was talking about. The red, pulsing heart of the first Primeval¡­ the eternal heartbeat tethered to the fields of Death''s dimension. I felt it thrumming in my chest, entwined with my own heartbeat, a dreadful symbiosis. The essence of the once mightiest of the Primevals flowed through me, a dark force conjoined with my soul. Myoordrakien. A harbinger of destruction and doom made flesh. A titan that had walked this earth once, now inexorably linked to my very existence. The weight of that knowledge settled over me like an oppressive shroud, a promise of chaos that lurked just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to unleash its fury. A world breaker that had enemies to kill¡­ places to destroy.

    ¡°They¡¯ll feel that too¡­¡± Abel warned.

    ¡°Who¡¯s they?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The others¡­¡± he said calmly. ¡°The ones still on the board. You need to keep getting stronger.¡±

    We stood there in the silence of the night, watching the snowfall, the cold creeping around us like an inevitability. Abel rocked slowly in his chair, the creak of the wood blending with the quiet, while I leaned against the porch railing, staring out into the darkness beyond. The city loomed in the distance, hidden beneath the snow, but I could feel what waited beneath it; the pits, the darkness, the destruction that would follow if I went there.

    ¡°There¡¯s one down there¡­ in the pits? Another Primeval?¡± I asked, my voice low, almost hesitant.

    Abel nodded, his expression unreadable. ¡°In a way. You¡¯ll find your path when you start that journey.¡±

    A tense silence hung between us before I broke it. ¡°If I do it¡­ how do I get in?¡±

    ¡°You already know someone with the keys to the kingdom. An old-timer like me, but with a bit more spring in his step.¡± He smirked, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes.

    I knew exactly who he meant, but dread settled in my gut. I hoped he was still in the city. ¡°Charles¡­¡± I muttered. The memory of that night resurfaced; Peter dragging me into the Unseen¡¯s world, and Charles, the ancient silver-haired vampire, watching with those cold eyes. Martin¡¯s creator. He held the key to gaining access to the pits. I needed him.

    ¡°You find him, you¡¯ll find the start of that path. But don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be easy.¡± Abel¡¯s voice darkened. ¡°He won¡¯t be there to help you. Not for all of it.¡±

    I started to ask, but the look on Abel¡¯s face silenced me. The old man knew who I served¡­ he¡¯d known all along.

    ¡°Death makes plans of his own,¡± Abel said, his tone almost too casual. ¡°These aren¡¯t his plans. Let¡¯s just say they¡¯re mine¡­ for now.¡±

    A chill crept up my spine. ¡°You¡¯re hiding a lot,¡± I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

    Abel¡¯s lips quirked into a half-smile. ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°And you think Death is just going to let me work for you? Do things outside of what he wants?¡±

    Abel¡¯s smile grew, a cryptic glint in his eyes. ¡°Outside¡­ inside¡­ alongside¡­ who knows? This might all be part of plans so vast we can¡¯t even grasp their reach. Or maybe it¡¯s something entirely new. But he¡¯ll allow it. A deal was made, a bargain struck¡­ and this is the price he agreed to. Besides¡­¡± He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°I know you, son. You want to get down there, don¡¯t you?¡±

    I felt the weight of his words, and for a moment, the ground beneath me seemed to shift. Had Death really made a bargain? With who? And for what? Why hadn¡¯t I been told?

    ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about me,¡± I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

    Abel just chuckled, sliding his glasses off and cleaning them absently on the hem of his shirt. ¡°Oh, I know enough.¡± He pointed the glasses at my chest. ¡°There¡¯s a mix of you and the Primeval inside. You¡¯ve been exploring, trying to find a way in. It¡¯s a subconscious pull from the monster inside of you. It has senses you haven¡¯t even tapped into yet. It feels what''s down there, lurking. It¡¯s calling to you.¡±

    His words clung to the air, heavy and unsettling, his gaze locking onto mine like he was daring me to deny it.

    ¡°How do you know so much?¡± The irritation in my voice was sharp now, but I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that Abel knew far more than he let on. And whatever he wasn¡¯t telling me, it was bound to be far worse than anything he¡¯d already revealed.

    ¡°In time, son¡­ in time.¡±

    I gritted my teeth and prepared to say something else. But, Abel changed subjects too fast for me to make an attempt. ¡°Take it easy on that Wicklow boy. He hasn¡¯t crossed a line yet¡­ but your actions could push him there. Not everything is set in stone, Sam. Just because you feel the absolute just beyond the veil, doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re always right. People make mistakes¡­ and they can change¡­ you have to let them.¡± Abel warned, but he was also trying to soften me.

    ¡°What did Peter do with that brush¡­ with Patrick?¡± I asked, remembering Peter¡¯s actions in the visions I got when Death finally gave me his name.

    Abel shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know it all, Sam. I just know¡­ complications are coming. You need to think hard about things before you act. Not just now¡­ but every day you walk this earth.¡±

    With that, the old man got up from his chair, walked up to me, patted my shoulder, and said, ¡°Find Charles.¡± Then he walked inside his home, the small crooked door creaking open and closed. Then I heard him latch the chain, the deadbolt, and the doorknob lock. He was not inviting me in.

    ¡°Who the fuck is this guy.¡±

    <hr>

    A few hours had crawled by since I left Abel¡¯s place. The sun had risen, casting its blinding light over the snow-covered city, the bright, reflective blanket turning the streets into a glowing haze. The air shimmered with icy particles, enough to blur the outlines of buildings and people, giving me the cover I needed to move unnoticed through the daylight. The cold kept most indoors, and the few who ventured out stuck to their cars, crawling through the frozen streets. The falling snow was my ally, its dense veil concealing me as I bounded from one rooftop to the next, leaping across gaps like some heroic character. If only that were the truth. My mission was far less noble. I was on my way to meet someone equally as dark in nature.

    I only had one place to go in the middle of the afternoon. There was only one person I could trust with my suspicions. The family might not be able to see a potential threat like I could. Martin might be blinded by his loyalty to the collective family for so long. If something was going on under his nose like I thought it might be, he might not be able to see it either. I couldn¡¯t go to him. He might give me away before I could figure out the truth. A direct confrontation with Patrick Wicklow wasn¡¯t on the table. I didn¡¯t think things would end well if I just came at him and started making accusations. He was hiding the truth from everyone. He hadn¡¯t spoken a word about his times with Peter. They all might see it as an attack from me¡­ the monster. I had to be smarter. He very well could be a victim of Peter¡¯s dying power. Maybe Abel was right¡­ I needed to think things through.

    The towering building loomed over me, its steel and glass reflecting the harsh glare of sunlight off the snow. I scanned the structure, searching for the balcony that would lead me to her. The foil-lined windows shimmered, bouncing the light back into my eyes. There it was, her place, darkened, secluded. The perfect hiding spot.

    I moved quickly, darting up the side of the building like a ghost in the snow, invisible to the few pedestrians below. Within seconds, I was on the balcony, slipping under its cover. The sliding door was unlocked, just as it had been the last time I¡¯d come. No surprises there. I eased it open, enough to slip inside without a sound, then closed it behind me. The blacked-out glass swallowed the outside world, leaving me in near darkness.

    Two steps into the kitchen, I barely had time to register the shift in the air before a hand clamped around my throat, pinning me to the wall. My back hit the plaster hard, the impact reverberating through the room with a deep, hollow thud. The neighbor on the other side of the wall didn¡¯t like that. There was a sharp bang, followed by an irritated shout.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Keep it down!¡± someone yelled on the other side of the wall.

    She muttered, her voice low, almost a growl. ¡°What do you want?¡± Alex¡¯s bloodred eyes glared into me with mostly rage, but a very small hint of uncertainty. ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡± she ordered an explanation.

    "I need to talk to you," I said, my voice steady as I reached for her hand, peeling her fingers from my throat and shoving her back. But before I could take a breath, she retaliated.

    Alex¡¯s eyes flared in response, the whites of them filling with dark crimson as her irises bled out into an inhuman red. That eerie shift in color made her look even more lethal, like the power inside her was spilling out. Her face twisted into a primal snarl, and in an instant, she knocked my hand away, slamming me back into the wall. The pressure of her grip returned, tighter this time. I could feel the sharpened ends of her nails digging into my skin. Her fangs, longer than I¡¯d ever seen, descended slowly, sliding down from her gums with grotesque precision. They weren¡¯t the small, subtly extended canines I¡¯d gotten used to seeing from vampires. These were monstrous, like a true predator ready to rip through flesh. She was prepared to kill.

    Another loud thud came from the wall. ¡°I said keep it down!¡± her neighbor yelled, her voice shrill as the broom handle banged against the wall.

    ¡°Fuck off, Karen!¡± Alex shouted back, her voice a mixture of fury and somehow sarcasm. Then she leaned in close, her breath hot against my face, her fangs just inches from my skin. ¡°If you just wanted to talk, you should have called me,¡± she growled, the fury thick in her voice. ¡°You don¡¯t just show up in the middle of the damn day when I¡¯m sleeping.¡± Her words were an order, spoken with venom.

    ¡°Something¡¯s happening,¡± I managed to say clearly, even with her hand still squeezing my throat. ¡°And I can¡¯t go to anyone else. I need to talk to you.¡± I had to restrain myself from fighting her. That wouldn¡¯t lead the conversation where I needed it to go.

    ¡°Why me?¡± Her voice dripped with skepticism. ¡°Why not Martin?¡±

    ¡°Martin won¡¯t see it,¡± I said, forcing the words through the tight grip she still had on me. ¡°He¡¯s too close. He won¡¯t understand. But you¡­ you might.¡±

    ¡°Understand what?¡± Her voice was low, dangerous. Her face hadn¡¯t softened, her expression still a chilling mask of controlled violence. She looked like a killer, her emotions locked away behind the monstrous transformation she was holding on to.

    ¡°It¡¯s not over,¡± I whispered, pushing against the vice grip of her hand. ¡°Peter¡¯s dead, but there¡¯s something else. Something we missed.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed, her mind clouded with rage and suspicion, too consumed by her transformation to fully comprehend what I was saying. The tension between us thickened, every second pushing her closer to the edge. I could see it in the slight twitch of her muscles, the way her fangs gleamed under the dim light.

    ¡°How about you let me go, and I¡¯ll explain?¡± I suggested, trying to de-escalate. It felt ironic¡­ me, the one calming the situation down. ¡°If I wanted to hurt you, Alex, I would have. Do you really think you could stop me if I tried?¡±

    Her eyes flared briefly, glowing with that same eerie hue of murder, but then, slowly, the red began to fade, receding into her irises until they settled back into their human green. Her fangs, too, retracted, sliding back up into her gums to barely noticeable points. Her face softened, the bartender I knew slipping back into place. For now.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking tempt me,¡± she said, her voice a cold warning. ¡°We¡¯ll never know for sure until we try it.¡± She released her grip on my neck with a shove, stepping back with barely concealed irritation. ¡°And don¡¯t touch anything.¡± With a sharp glance, she turned and stormed toward her bedroom.

    It was only then that I noticed how unprepared she was for my arrival. The sheer black underwear she wore was more revealing than the outfits she used to charm the patrons at the bar. The usual revealing clothes she wore, to lure in young vampires to their deaths, didn¡¯t hold a candle to this. Her pale skin was barely covered where the small cloth sat. Her long red hair hung loose, slightly disheveled from sleep, and even her posture screamed frustration as she walked away from me.

    "You don¡¯t think we can just be friends?¡± I called out as she disappeared into the bedroom, half-joking, trying to lighten the mood. But I knew better, it was to agitate her.

    I caught a glimpse of the photograph on her bedside table before she slammed the door shut behind her. The same picture, the one she kept hidden away from the world¡­ a ghost of someone she once loved¡­ someone she lost.

    She didn¡¯t respond. I doubted she found my attempt at humor amusing.

    When she emerged from her room a few minutes later, she was dressed more modestly, in casual lounge clothes¡­ sweats and a hoodie. Her hair was tied back, and her expression hardened once again, but the edge had softened just enough for me to keep talking.

    ¡°So,¡± she said, standing across from me with arms crossed, ¡°what¡¯s so important that you risked life and limb to break into my place?¡±

    There was something guarded in her posture, like even now, after everything we¡¯d been through, she still didn¡¯t trust me. We had fought alongside each other, and faced unspeakable horrors together, but there was always this distance between us¡­ this unspoken tension. She stood with one foot still in the world where she couldn¡¯t fully accept me as an ally, maybe not even as an acquaintance.

    "Peter left more than just a trail of bodies, Alex," I said, my voice low, trying to keep her attention. "Something is lingering out there. Peter had other plans, ones we didn¡¯t know about. With someone else, maybe the whole time... I¡¯m not sure. I don¡¯t know much..." I trailed off, pacing around Alex¡¯s kitchen.

    Her eyes narrowed, the skepticism thick in her voice. ¡°What? Who would¡¯ve been helping him?¡± She sounded like she thought I¡¯d finally lost it like I was clinging to a wild conspiracy.

    "I don''t know if they were helping him," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. "But Peter had plans for him. Do you remember that night in the brewery? That vampire who had Clara by the neck?"

    ¡°Yeah, Fitz.¡± She leaned against the counter, arms crossed. ¡°Martin used to know him.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± I continued, trying to sound like I wasn¡¯t losing my grip on the situation, "at one point, Fitz looked back, like Peter was talking to him before he even showed himself. And out of everyone in that room, he asked for Patrick. He wanted him before the killing even started.¡±

    Alex raised an eyebrow, looking at me like I¡¯d just told her the earth was flat. "Why? What does that have to do with anything? Maybe he just wanted to steal whatever weird power that boy has.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head, pacing faster now, the tiles creaking under my boots. ¡°It was more than that.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Alex burst out laughing, her hand covering her mouth. ¡°You think Patrick was helping Peter?¡± She tilted her head back, her laughter echoing through the apartment. She laughed so hard, I thought she might double over. She was practically wheezing like I¡¯d just told her the funniest joke of the year. It was because she thought I was stupid.

    I stood there, awkwardly waiting for her to finish, my patience wearing thin as she clutched her stomach, her chuckles coming out in snorts. It was beyond irritating. Again, I was standing in front of someone who was laughing me out of the room, just like Darry and his pack. But I held my ground, watching her with a blank expression until she caught her breath and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking idiot if you think that little boy had anything to do with the death of his father,¡± she said between the last remnants of her laughter, shaking her head like I was some poor, delusional soul. But her smile faded when she noticed I wasn¡¯t laughing along. Her grin lingered a moment longer, then slowly melted away.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that,¡± I said firmly, locking eyes with her. ¡°I think Peter visited him... multiple times. I think he was trying to corrupt him, to give him power like he had. Patrick didn¡¯t want it¡­ he was terrified. But he hasn¡¯t told anyone about it yet.¡±

    Alex¡¯s smile disappeared entirely, her amusement draining away as the seriousness of what I was saying hit her. I could see her mind working now, her posture straightening, the tension rising.

    ¡°If he hasn¡¯t told anyone... why?¡± I asked, leaving the question to hang in the air between us.

    Her expression tightened, and I could tell I had her attention now. The laughter was gone, replaced by a heavy silence.

    ¡°Still, that was his father. Even his grandmother died. Their family lost the most at the end of all this. How could he be a part of that? How could Martin, or any of their family not see if something was going on?¡± I could tell that Alex was already finding the path of least resistance. She knew that this was dangerous territory.

    She was right to have these thoughts. We¡­ outsiders, would point a finger inside their families. It would shake things.

    ¡°They did lose the most,¡± I agreed, ¡°but what did Patrick gain?¡±

    Alex looked at me like I was stupid again. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ what did he gain?¡±

    I started to open up to her. ¡°I get these visions¡­ names¡­ of people who do pretty fucked up shit. When I got my vision for Peter, I saw him take something of Autumn¡¯s, a hairbrush. He did something to it, imbued it with power somehow. Then he gave it to Patrick¡­ told him things¡­ things he hasn¡¯t spoken of yet. What is it? What can it do to Autumn? It''s tied to her¡­ I just don¡¯t know how.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that. Visions?¡± Alex said. She looked frustrated like maybe Martin knew and hadn''t told her that part about me. ¡°It¡¯s a big jump, Sam,¡± Alex told me. ¡°Don¡¯t go making problems when there aren¡¯t any. Peter¡¯s power most likely died with him.¡± Alex turned from me, walking to her living room to sit down. She seemed like she was over the conversation, and didn¡¯t want any part of plotting against her friend¡¯s adoptive family.

    Alex was looking at my chest, but she was staring straight through me. Her dots were being connected to other things she had seen and witnessed. Probably little things that meant nothing to her before, but now they were being placed into a column that lined up with everything I was saying to her.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.

    She realized I could read her expression, and she straightened up. ¡°You realize that this is serious. If you are right, then he might be even more of a threat to their family than Peter. Poison from within can be more dangerous than a threat from the outside. But if you¡¯re wrong¡­ how do you think they¡¯ll react? How do you think Martin will react?¡±

    ¡°Can you see now why I couldn¡¯t go to him? If I brought this up to him, he,¡± I didn¡¯t finish as she interrupted me.

    ¡°No. He wouldn¡¯t believe you,¡± she agreed, nodding to herself in understanding.

    I nodded now that she finally understood the seriousness of it all.

    She sighed quickly, ¡°I need a fucking drink!¡± she hopped off the counter and paced quickly to the fridge, yanking the door open. She grabbed a brown bottle, then looked back to me, ¡°Want one?¡±

    Before I could answer I saw her reach into a cabinet and grab a little jar of yellow powder. Alex brought over another full beer for me and set it on the counter. She scraped the bottle cap off and poured the yellow dust into her open hand. She funneled it in with her hand spilling most on the counter before pointing the bottom to the ceiling.

    She was trying to get the powder into her system as fast as possible. The stress of the knowledge she now knew was actively taking its toll on her. She needed relief the instant she realized my thoughts could very well be true.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Alex barked out as she finished the beer, sucking in a breath.

    ¡°Yeah. Things are about to get complicated,¡± I said.

    I grabbed the jar and mirrored her movements, pouring a handful of powder into the neck of the bottle.

    ¡°Maybe it''s nothing,¡± she hoped aloud. ¡°Maybe he started something Patrick was meant to finish, but you killed him before he could. If he¡¯s dead¡­ his power must be too.¡±

    ¡°I hope you''re right¡­¡± I drank my beer.

    A little bit of time passed as we drank all of her beer and most of the blazingstar. It reminded me of old times. Back when I¡¯d drink with my brother. The taste was different now, but close enough to what I remembered.

    With my normal restraints relaxed around her, I asked, ¡°Who¡¯s in the picture by your bed?¡±

    Alex was also feeling the yellow herb in her system, and let her guard down a little. ¡°So, you did creep around?¡± she knew I didn¡¯t just grab her clothes and leave before the time she ordered me around like her little errand boy. She joked, but I could tell it was to try and push the subject somewhere else.

    ¡°Your husband?¡±

    Alex gritted her teeth, wishing I¡¯d stop asking.

    I think a part of her wanted to talk about him.

    ¡°His name was Jerry¡­ we weren¡¯t married, but we were together since high school,¡± she grew quiet for a moment. ¡°We rode motorcycles¡­ was even in a club.¡± Alex laughed, ¡°We even had jackets with all the patches.¡± She was smiling at some old memories. ¡°I didn¡¯t like it all in the beginning, motorcycles were more Jerry¡¯s thing. But I knew how much it meant to him, it was a family thing. I grew into it. That¡¯s where I got all these,¡± Alex turned, lifting her shirt slightly, and showing me the ink that designed her back and arms. Lots of skulls and flames covered the canvas of her body. There was a Grim Reaper tucked into her forearm design that made me smirk. It had a full-blown scythe in its hand, the same size as the skeleton wielding it. Alex flipped her arm over to show me the inside of her wrist. There it was¡­ ¡®Jerry¡¯ right on her skin.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I honestly talked with her. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to have to leave the people you care about¡­¡±

    Alex looked up quickly, ¡°I didn¡¯t leave Jerry. They took him from me.¡± She said it angrily like she was still very much affected by what she talked about.

    ¡°Who?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The ones that turned me into this¡­¡± Alex¡¯s eyes were somewhere else again. ¡°There was a bar that the gang went to all the time. It was kind of our place, everyone knew it. Most people in town avoided it. Our guys could be¡­ rough. But they were all good people, just not the cookie-cutter bullshit you see behind white picket fences. They were my family.¡± Alex made her history very clear. ¡°That all changed when a group of strangers came to the bar. They seemed young and out for trouble. When they came inside, they found a table, sat down, and took the place over. Some of our guys didn¡¯t like that, so they wanted to rough them up a little bit, just to scare them away. None of us knew what they were.¡±

    ¡°Vampires,¡± I put it together.

    ¡°Someone get this guy a gold star,¡± Alex mocked my comprehension of the obvious. ¡°The lucky ones got killed quickly. Thankfully, Jerry was one of them. I, however, was not so lucky. Me and a friend were kept alive. They fed on us for days, slowly sucking the life out of us. I don¡¯t think they meant to turn me, but they were young and didn¡¯t know what they were doing. After a long night of being tortured by one of them, he drank too much from me and I started to go. I think he was one of the youngest ones still unsure about how it all worked. He fed me his blood in hopes that it would heal me and keep me alive to not piss off the others. I think he was scared to tell the stronger ones that he killed me by accident. I think I was supposed to last them for a while. At that point, my friend was already dead, and it was just me. But I was much more than just a food source¡­¡± Alex shook her head in regret. ¡°The used me¡­ for all of their needs¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I wish I knew what to say¡­ but I don¡¯t. We don¡¯t have to keep talking about it if you don¡¯t want to,¡± I offered.

    ¡°No.¡± Alex looked at me, ¡°I¡¯m not ashamed of what happened.¡± She really wasn¡¯t, but she did have something else in her eyes¡­ a hatred that went beyond explanation. ¡°Once I was¡­ aware,¡± she tried to make me understand the vampire ways, ¡°I could feel the power inside of me. I still felt weak, but I knew something was different. I honestly thought they¡¯d kill me as soon as I fought back, but I came after them with all that I had. When I killed the first one¡­ I drink his life, taking it all, hating him¡­ all of them for what they had done to us. I felt stronger. I fought and killed them one by one until only one was left. He ran once he saw he had no others to help him. He was too scared to fight me, a helpless newborn vampire.¡± Alex grinned as she spoke next, ¡°The last one got away¡­ I¡¯ve never been able to find him, but I remember his face. If I ever find him, I¡¯ll do to him what I did to them all.¡±

    Her story was much worse than I thought it was. She still had something hanging over her. One of the monsters that forced this life on her was still out there somewhere. I don¡¯t think she felt like she had closure. A part of her would always still be back there until she could kill the one that got away from her.

    I didn¡¯t say anything else to her about it. I could see she was through talking, so I wouldn¡¯t ask anymore.

    ¡°What are you going to do now?¡± Alex asked me after a while longer of sitting and drinking in silence.

    I shook my head, the blazingstar muddying my thoughts, and I started spilling out things unfiltered. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m supposed to do. If it''s nothing¡­ I¡¯ll drop it. If it''s more than that, I have to figure out if it can hurt Autumn. But¡­ If Patrick was helping Peter upset the balance, I would have been sent for him, but I haven¡¯t been yet. If he doesn¡¯t meet Death¡¯s standards, then I¡¯m not sure where that leaves me. I could kill him on my own, but I¡¯m not sure what would happen with everyone.¡± I struggled with what to do. ¡°Would I upset the balance if I killed someone who doesn¡¯t deserve it,¡± I thought that last part out loud to myself.

    Alex was half drunk sitting on her kitchen counter again, ¡°You just said a whole lot¡­ and I didn¡¯t understand any of it.¡± Her eyebrows lifted high in confusions. ¡°Well, whatever you figure out, let me know before you get cast out of the family. I¡¯ll need to make sure Martin will keep me on at the bar if he thinks I was in on this. That¡¯s how I pay for this place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to help me figure this out,¡± I asked her. ¡°I can¡¯t talk to anyone else about this.¡±

    ¡°Why did you even come here?¡± Alex asked me. ¡°You could have done this on your own¡­ why did you think I¡¯d help you hurt a human? I only hunt one thing¡­ vampires.¡±

    I was surprised at her hesitation, but I had ultimately already done what I intended to do here with her¡­ even though it was an absolute failure. I sat my beer bottle down on the counter adding another to the growing pile of empties.

    I started walking towards her balcony, cracking the sliding door. Sunlight streamed in to light up the kitchen floor, growing and lengthening toward Alex at the counter. She could have moved at any point, and I could have slung the door open too. She waited¡­ to see what I¡¯d do. I had the power to hurt her at that moment; she knew it, and I knew it. The light would burn her severely if it touched her.

    I stopped the door once the light was about a foot from touching her. Alex¡¯s green eyes were on the floor, watching the approaching sunlight. She looked at me after it stopped creeping towards her.

    ¡°You and I have a lot in common. You may hunt a kill vampires exclusively... but you¡¯re a killer of killers. So am I. We¡¯re a lot more similar than you might realize.¡± I looked at her open bedroom door to the picture she held so closely. ¡°A lot more similar. I just thought you might understand.¡±

    I stepped out of her balcony door and slid it closed with a soft click, the sound swallowed by the thick silence of the snow-laden city. The chill in the air prickled against my skin as I leaned over the edge, gauging the distance to the sidewalk below. The world seemed frozen in time, shrouded in a thick veil of white. I glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, and then let myself fall, the rush of adrenaline mixing with the icy air as I landed softly on the snow-covered pavement.

    Once on the ground, I pulled my hood up, the fabric brushing against my cheeks, a shield against the biting cold. The snowflakes danced around me, swirling like tiny ghosts in the dim light, muffling the sound of my footsteps as I began to pace away. Each step crunched softly beneath my boots, the sensation oddly comforting despite the frigid temperature that seeped through my layers.

    I took a deep breath, the crisp air filling my lungs, sharpening my senses. I wanted her help¡­ wanted her understanding as much as I longed for someone to validate the swirling suspicions in my mind. My primary goal had been accomplished; she now knew what I suspected. If I made a move, and things went south, at least Alex could be there to speak the truth to them. She could tell them I had Autumn¡¯s best interests at heart. Her voice would carry weight, especially with Martin. I hoped he would listen to her, but a knot tightened in my stomach at the thought.

    I wanted to talk to Carter¡­ but it sounded like they had things going on. Plus, with how much their families had lost against Peter¡­ I¡¯m not sure where his head would be if I came to him with this information. Obviously, I knew he¡¯d protect his daughter, but when the time came, all Patrick had to do was lie. He could say I was lying in an instant and discredit me. Then¡­ it would be them versus me.

 Book 3

    Hello Everyone,

    I wanted to mark the transition between Book 2 and Book 3. I will continue my chapter numbers sequentially, just wanted this in here again as a spacer in the list. Everything coming up is completely new, as I''ve cleared my backlog. I¡¯m currently working through the next chapters carefully to ensure they turn out well. I plan to post the first chapter of Book 3 tomorrow after a final read-through at work. I¡¯m excited to hear your thoughts on where the story is headed!

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    If you haven''t rated or reviewed yet but have been reading, I would greatly appreciate your feedback. I want to know what you like and don¡¯t like as I continue writing. And if you think it¡¯s not up to par, don¡¯t hesitate to share that too (though I hope that¡¯s not the case!).

    Thank you to everyone who has been reading; I love your comments!

    -J

 Chapter 63 - Slaughter

    The night was already soaked in blood, and I was¡­ transformed. My body no longer resembling anything human. I towered over the massacre, a hulking form of shadow and death. My skin, a dark, stormy grey, shifted with each breath like rolling clouds before a thunderstorm. Black veins throbbed across my massive, muscular frame, pulsing with the rage and power coursing through me.

    My eyes, if they could still be called that, had turned into twin voids, bottomless pits of blackness that swallowed the dim light around me. There was no trace of humanity left in them, just an endless hunger, a darkness that radiated malice. They didn¡¯t reflect the carnage and destruction¡­ they absorbed it, reveled in it. The blood that splattered across my monstrous body slid down in rivers, soaking into the snow at my feet. The warm blood melted the reddening frost into a slush of gore and carnage.

    My claws, long, black, and sharp as death itself, gleamed under the faint light, each talon curving like a predator¡¯s, made to rip and tear through flesh with ease. They dripped with the remains of those I¡¯d torn apart, the crimson staining them in a grotesque display of brutality. Every movement I made was a symphony of destruction, my bulk tearing through the snow, each step leaving a bloody crater beneath my feet.

    I was a walking nightmare¡­ massive, hulking, drenched in blood, with eyes that promised nothing but death.

    Bodies lay broken and mangled at my feet; vampires and their human sycophants alike. The humans¡­ they were the worst. Wannabe bloodsuckers, desperate to prove themselves, luring innocents in like bait to feed the monsters. They disgusted me more than the leeches themselves. At least the vampires were honest about what they were; inhuman predators that hungered for blood. These humans were just cowards, groveling in the hopes of becoming something more¡­ something dark. Fucking assholes.

    I tore through them like they were nothing. Not a single care in the world that they were human beings. In my eyes, they were worse than the monsters¡­ they chose this shit. When I saw what they were doing at this party I was unleashed with no care for what came after. I was seeking attention here, that¡¯s why I came, but this was more than I planned. I was fully embracing the monster¡­ the Primeval, Myoordrakien. I let the monster loose, not just opening the cage in my mind, but ripping the fucking door from its mental hinges.

    A corrupted human fell at my monstrous feet as others fled or prepared to fight. He had a twisted grin on his face; a begging smile like he thought I¡¯d spare him because he wasn¡¯t a full vampire yet. Maybe he thought I¡¯d take him in as my own servant as the vampires did. He could just jump ship and pledge some kind of loyalty to me¡­ I didn¡¯t play that shit. His grin vanished when I grabbed him by the throat, lifted him off the ground with one hand, and slammed him into the snow. His spine shattered with a sickening crack. The snow beneath him quickly turned red as blood poured from his mouth, his chest heaving in dying gasps. I let him go, no need to end him swiftly. I stepped over him, leaving him to choke on his own blood, not even worth finishing off.

    More came at me, a literal swarm backed by thumping dance music. It seemed they weren¡¯t prepared for an attack. They were in the middle of a party, a nighttime rave in the snow of an isolated property. Human victims lay broken and drained of blood, too many to count. A frenzy of panic broke out in the crowd of the guilty when I first approached transformed. They thought their numbers would save them; thought they could overwhelm me. I smiled at the thought. Seeing the fear of my monstrous form overtake some of their will to fight or to run; only to stand still while judgment came.

    I swung my dark arm, and my talons tore through the first wave like paper, ripping open throats, splattering the cold night with crimson arcs. Blood sprayed in a fine mist, covering my transformed face, drenching my hands. The smell of iron and death clung to everything.  I grunted and roared as I moved violently, every ounce of strength behind every single attack. Never slowing. Never stopping. I only had one thought plague my mind during it all. KILL KILL KILL.

    I was in my element.

    A woman leech lunged at me from the side, a knife glinting in her hand. She moved fast, but not fast enough. I caught her wrist mid-swing and twisted it until the bone snapped and her arm came off in my murderous grip. Her scream cut through the air as the knife fell from her severed arm. I didn¡¯t give her the mercy of a quick death. Instead, I slammed her face-first into the ground, grinding her skull into the icy dirt until it cracked open like an egg. Blood spilled out, black in the moonlight, mixing with the snow like ink spreading across paper. The thing about vampires was funny, to humans, and other creatures it took very specific things to kill one. They were too fast, too strong. But for me, I wasn¡¯t bound by such limits. Massive brutality worked just fine. That wasn¡¯t possible for most other creatures or hunters. It was for me.

    The vampires were trying to retreat now, scrambling over the corpses of their wannabe followers, but I wasn¡¯t about to let them slink away. One of them, a burly brute with glowing red eyes, thought he could make a break for it. I closed the distance in two strides, grabbed him by the hair, and yanked him back hard. He snarled and swung at me, fangs bared, but I rammed my clawed fist into his chest with enough force to splinter every bone inside. My hand punched through flesh and bone, sinking deep until I found his heart. I ripped it out in one savage motion, and his body crumpled in on itself like a ragdoll. I tossed the heart aside, watching it bounce down the slope, leaving a streak of blood behind it.

    Behind me, the snow was no longer white. It was drenched in red, a sea of blood slowly creeping down the incline. The ground was littered with bodies; vampires, humans, all mixed together in a grotesque pile, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, severed extremities cast aside from the chaos of my slashing talons. Blood cascaded over the corpses like a river, pooling at my feet, staining the snow with their arrogance and desperation.

    Another human came at me, screaming something about mercy, begging for his life. I didn¡¯t care. I grabbed him by the face, my fingers digging into his flesh, and lifted him high. His screams cut off as I squeezed, feeling his skull cave under the pressure. His body convulsed, legs kicking uselessly, and then his head exploded in a spray of bone and brain matter. His body dropped to the ground, twitching, blood pouring from the stump of his neck like a fountain.

    The snow around me was soaked in gore, bodies piled up so high it looked like a slaughterhouse. And still, I kept going. Every time one fell, another took their place, desperate, hungry, foolish. I ripped through them like a storm, claws slicing, teeth gnashing, leaving nothing but death in my wake. Blood ran in rivulets down the slope, soaking into the earth, feeding the frozen ground beneath.

    This was what they wanted¡­ chaos, power, immortality. They thought they could earn it by serving monsters. But tonight, they learned the truth: I was the real monster. I was the thing in the dark, the hurricane of vengeful wrath that left nothing but ruin in its path.

    By the time it was over, I stood in the center of a battlefield, surrounded by a swamp of blood and a field of corpses. The air was thick with the stench of blood and death. The snow beneath my feet was nothing more than a red slush, a grotesque mix of gore and ice. The blood had spread so far, so wide, that it formed a dark tide, creeping over the snow-covered ground, swallowing everything in its path.

    And I hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat.

    I slowed my momentum, breathing deeply as I paced over the fresh graveyard in my monstrous form. Three vampires lay broken, but alive across the expanse from me. I looked out at them, waiting to see the hope build in their eyes. In this form, this glimpse of Primeval power, it wouldn¡¯t happen. They were locked in fear and what they didn¡¯t understand.

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    The rage still pulsed through me, the monstrous form of Primeval power holding tight, reluctant to loosen its grip. My massive frame heaved as I exhaled, steam rising from the heat of the carnage around me. My claws, black and sharp as Death¡¯s own scythe, twitched as if considering one last strike. The vampire stumbled backward, his boots slipping in the pool of blood. His left arm hung limp, dislocated, and partially severed. It hung on by stings of sinew.

    I released the rage¡­ and it began. My vision blurred, the black void of my eyes flickering as shadows peeled back. Myoordrakien¡¯s power resisted, pulling against the transformation, but I forced it down. Slowly, agonizingly, my muscles began to contract. The thick, muscular bulk that had towered above the battlefield shrank, the monstrous mass of my frame tightening back into something human. Each ligament, each tendon, twisted painfully as bones cracked and shifted. My claws retracted, the sharp, gleaming tips dulling as my fingers trembled, shrinking back into a more familiar shape. The grey, coarse flesh along my shoulders faded, blending back into my skin like retreating storm clouds.

    The snow beneath me, already soaked in blood, felt cold again as my feet shrank, the claws retracting back into human toes. My legs buckled slightly as my height reduced, bringing me down from my towering monstrous form. Each step back toward humanity felt like a struggle, my body protesting with every shift, every pull. The primal power, Myoordrakien¡¯s raw strength, howled within me, desperate to remain free. I felt the Primeval all the way in the fields¡­ Death¡¯s dimension. He wanted to destroy. He did not want to give up his time in the night just yet. I felt the ominous beat of its gargantuan heart, beating fiercely, begging for more death, destruction¡­ and doom.

    But I forced him back down. Cramming him into the cage of my soul.

    As my chest heaved, the thick, black veins that pulsed across my torso vanished, leaving behind normal human flesh. The void in my eyes faded, the blackness slowly diminishing before the whites returned, leaving my blue irises sharp and cold. Blood dripped from my arms, still stained from the slaughter, but my fingers now resembled hands instead of deadly weapons. I gasped, my breath ragged as the transformation completed, my body soaked in both sweat and the blood of those I had torn apart moments before.

    The vampires watched in silent horror, disbelief painted across his face as they saw the monster dissolve into a man again, but the fear remained. I stood before them, smaller, human, but the air still hung thick with the weight of death. They saw my physical form change, but the aura that emanated from within me still lingered.

    One of their lips trembled, his fangs slowly retracting, and in that moment, I saw it¡­ the flicker of hope, the dawning realization that he could still run.

    "Go," I rasped, my voice raw, still thick with the remnants of the monstrous growl that had accompanied me in my other form.

    He didn¡¯t need to be told twice. None of them did. They didn¡¯t question it, didn¡¯t understand it, but they didn¡¯t make the didn¡¯t waste time. The vampires turned and bolted, their feet slipping in the blood-slick snow as they fled, stumbling over the bodies of his fallen comrades in remnant fear. They disappeared into the night, retreating figures swallowed by the trees and shadows, leaving behind nothing but the sound of panicked breaths and the quiet thrum of the blood-soaked ground beneath them.

    I watched them go, my body still aching from the shift, the weight of my Primeval bond still pulsing deep within my chest, waiting, always waiting for the next time it would be unleashed.

    It was time to move. I needed clothes. My phone. Calls had to be made. All of this, every drop of blood spilled, every calculated step¡­ it was all for one reason: Charles. The oldest vampire I¡¯d ever met, Martin¡¯s creator, and the only one who might be able to give me what I needed. And I needed to find him¡­ desperately. The last few weeks had spiraled out of control. Too much chaos, too many moving parts. I had irons in every fire, but this one, this hunt for Charles was by far the most critical.

    The slaughter I¡¯d left behind was a message. One that couldn¡¯t be ignored. I needed Charles, or the Elders lurking in the pits, to take notice of the unchecked killings of vampires in the city. The kind of mess that would rattle the underworld. Especially since I let those three run off, tails between their legs, scurrying back to the depths below to tell their masters about the black-eyed monster still prowling the streets. A deliberate move on my part. The Elders had been led to believe I was dead; a clever lie spun by Charles to get them off my back, and his. But that was then. Now, I needed them to come after me. I wanted them to.

    If whispers of a "similar" creature, something like the beast I used to be, something the Elders remembered reached their ears, they were sure to send immortals after me. And maybe, just maybe, Charles would be one of them. He had to be.

    I had a mission now, a clear goal: I needed to get into the pits. I needed to reach the deepest, most hidden parts of the world beneath this city. The underworld wasn¡¯t just a myth. I¡¯d spent countless hours crawling through cave systems and sewers beneath the streets, searching for a way in, only to loop back around to the same dead ends, missing the trick, the key to unlocking it. It was like a labyrinth designed to keep people like me out. People who didn¡¯t belong, who weren¡¯t supposed to know it even existed. But I knew it was real. And now I had no choice but to find it.

    Death, the force that granted me the power I carried in my blood, had given me a task. Step one was finding the entrance to the pits. Everything else, all the chaos and destruction I¡¯d brought to the surface, was just a means to an end. If I would have stumbled upon these assholes on my own, I would have killed them, obviously. But I had to do this. I had to get down there, confront whatever awaited, and finish the task I was given, so I could finally focus on what came next.

    The cold bit at my naked, bloody skin, a gnawing reminder of where I was as I trudged toward the riverbank. The Missouri River stretched out before me, half frozen in patches along the river¡¯s edge, the water beneath churning dark and slow. Ice clung to the borders of the river, jagged shards jutting into the black water like broken teeth. My breath fogged in the air, each exhale fading into the frigid night, but I kept moving. Blood still clung to my skin, freezing in streaks and smears, and I could feel it beginning to itch.

    I made my way to the spot by the riverbank where I¡¯d stashed my backpack earlier, hidden beneath a tangle of broken branches and brittle bushes. The area was silent, save for the soft crackle of ice shifting against itself.

    I dipped my hands into the icy waters, the cold biting into my fingers like knives. It was sharp, almost electric, as I lowered myself into the river. The shock of the frigid water snapped through me, cutting through the numbness from the night¡¯s violence. My body tensed, muscles coiled tight as the water seeped into every crack and crevice, washing away the blood in slow, swirling tendrils. The dark river turned red as the remnants of battle slid off me, fading into the night current.

    I scrubbed my arms, my chest, and my matted hair packed with blood against the dark, slick water. My black eyes reflected on the surface for a moment, and I stared at them, watching as the creature in me was still present, trying to return. I focused and breathed slowly, the monstrous eyes ebbing back into the depths, leaving just my blues again.

    ¡°Stay down,¡± I commanded the Primeval.

    Once I was clean, or as close to it as I could get, I climbed out of the water, my body shivering uncontrollably in the cold night air. The wind hit me like a hammer, but I ignored it. I dug through the frozen brush until I found my hidden backpack. Unzipping it, I pulled out a towel and began wiping the last bits of blood and grime from my skin, the motions hurried and mechanical. The freezing temperature made everything feel urgent. It wouldn¡¯t hurt me, my supernatural strength and power too great to be felled by the winter''s grip.

    I pulled on the jeans first, then the heavy boots, still damp from earlier when I walked here initially. My fingers fumbled slightly as I tugged a clean shirt over my head, the fabric soft against my chilled skin. It felt strange to be clean again after what I¡¯d just done, as if the blood and carnage were part of me now, clinging to me even as I washed it away. But I shoved the feeling down. I needed to stay focused. I pulled my black hoodie on next, followed by my heavy brown jacket. I was back¡­ Sam Roberts, the human face of the  Hand of Death walking the earth. The fa?ade I wore as I hid the deep Primeval life force inside my soul. The power of the first Primeval¡­ the strongest¡­ Myoordrakien. Primeval of Destruction, Doom¡­ Death. A walking titan of flesh and bone; a physical incarnation of an aspect of the forming world. For the rest of the Primevals, he was meant to be¡­ the END!

    Once I was dressed, I grabbed my phone from the pack and stared at it. Silent. Still waiting. But it wouldn¡¯t be for long. There were calls to be made, strings to pull, and forces to provoke.

    I had a fleeting hope that Autumn¡¯s name would flicker across the screen. I knew better.

 Chapter 64 - Aftershocks (Carter â€“ Two Weeks Ago)

    We were driving home, slowly creeping west out of the city. We¡¯d been gone all day, answering questions at the police station. To say I was stressed out was an understatement. We had a big problem¡­ massive. Seth Roberts. The identical twin brother of Sam, our monstrous friend. He had found us and came asking questions. They were questions that neither Eleanor nor I was prepared to answer.

    We had promised to keep Sam¡¯s secrets for a long time now¡­ no matter what. He had always made it clear that his secrets were in place to protect his family back home, the ones he left behind when his life was stolen and twisted into what he was. He thought secrecy was best¡­ and who were we to question him? I needed to find Sam. I had to tell him what had happened so he could help¡­ at least to know what he¡¯d have us do. Seth seemed dead set on finding out answers.

    Once the dark gypsy, Peter Grimwood was finally killed, the impending doom of everything dropped off¡­ for like a second. Then, Seth came knocking. Someone had used his passport, flown to Europe, and never returned¡­ on paper at least. I knew it was when he flew to Europe to get my son, Allen. Sam broke him free and brought him back to us. I guess at some point he used our address for something, and that¡¯s how we ended up in this mess. But, I couldn¡¯t fault Sam for any of this. If it wasn¡¯t for him and what he did, Allen would still be gone.

    The tires crunched through the snow as we drove down the empty road, the world outside a blur of gray and white. The headlights barely cut through the thick flakes falling in steady waves, and the windshield wipers fought to keep up. Eleanor was gripping the wheel tighter than usual, her knuckles pale, her lips pressed into a thin line.

    I glanced over at her. "You okay?"

    She didn¡¯t look at me. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

    We both knew what that meant. We hadn¡¯t seen Sam since that night¡­ when he¡¯d taken Peter Grimwood out of this world like he¡¯d just... evaporated into nothing. The memory of it still didn¡¯t make sense in my head. Sam, or whatever he¡¯d become, standing there, Peter at his mercy, then gone¡­ both of them. Just like that.

    ¡°We haven¡¯t heard from him since that night,¡± I said, trying to push through the silence that had settled between us again. ¡°His phone¡¯s gone, there¡¯s no way to reach him.¡±

    Eleanor sighed, her breath fogging up the window for a second before she spoke. "I hate this, Carter. Not knowing where he is... if he¡¯s okay. After everything Peter did, everything Sam has had to do... Now his brother¡¯s here. He¡¯s his family, and we have to keep lying to him."

    "I don¡¯t know what¡¯s worse," I muttered, staring out the window at the dark shapes of trees lining the road. "The fact that we don¡¯t know where he is, or that when we do find him, he might not be the same person anymore. He seemed different¡­" I thought back to when we glimpsed him for those few seconds in our yard. The night Peter Grimwood came for us all. ¡°He looked like he knew something¡­ it was in his eyes. He knew what he was doing. It was¡­ different.¡±

    Eleanor didn¡¯t say anything for a long moment, just kept her eyes on the road, her jaw tight. Then she spoke, her voice quieter. "We need to find him before Seth does. Before anything else goes wrong. Once Sam knows his brother is here, he¡¯ll tell us what he wants to do¡­ how to handle this."

    I nodded, the weight of the truth settling over us like the snow falling outside. There was no telling how far Seth was going to take this investigation. He had indeed gone to the police like he said when I shewed him away from my property. Our inside man, Detective Ames worked in homicide and had no pull in cases from different departments. He couldn¡¯t take the lead and brush this type of thing under the rug for us. Luckily we had played it off as not knowing anything, none of us had left the country recently or caused any suspicion that would point toward us. But it was only a matter of time before Seth¡¯s investigation into our family revealed a secret of the supernatural underworld of the city. That was a can of worms that we needed Sam to be here for. If Seth found out the truth too soon... it wouldn¡¯t end well. For anyone.

    The silence returned, thick and uncomfortable, as we pulled onto our street. The snow was deeper here, untouched except for a few tire tracks from earlier in the day. Our house loomed in the distance, warm lights glowing through the windows, a sharp contrast to the cold night outside.

    "She¡¯s going to ask where we¡¯ve been going¡­ what we¡¯ve been doing these last few days. Honestly, I''m shocked she hasn¡¯t started asking questions yet," Eleanor said, her voice tense.

    "Yeah," I replied, glancing at her. "We have to tell her. Autumn¡¯s smart. She¡¯ll know something¡¯s off if we don¡¯t."

    Eleanor turned into the garage as soon as the door lifted, the car slowing to a stop as she killed the engine. We both sat there for a moment, neither of us eager to get out, neither of us ready to face the conversation waiting inside.

    ¡°You know how close they were¡­ how close they still seem. Part of me thinks we don¡¯t realize how much so¡­¡± my wife sighed.

    I finally broke my silence. "I don¡¯t like her being tied to him like that." The words came out harsher than I meant, but I didn¡¯t regret them.

    Eleanor turned to me, her expression tight with frustration. "I know he¡¯s not normal, Carter, but he¡¯s done too much for us to just cast him away like that."

    ¡°I know he did, but look what he¡¯s become,¡± I said, my voice rising, frustration boiling over. ¡°He¡¯s not... normal, Eleanor¡­ not for Autumn¡­ not for our little girl. I love Sam¡­ he¡¯s like a son to me¡­¡± I started getting choked up. ¡°Whatever he is, it¡¯s not safe. And I don¡¯t want her mixed up in that; living a life that never allows her a family of her own. She deserves a better life than getting caught up in¡­¡±

    ¡°In what? In the truth¡­ life?¡± Eleanor shot back, cutting me off. ¡°She¡¯s old enough to make her own choices, Carter. You can¡¯t protect her from everything. Better to be with someone who loves her¡­ cares for her than settling for safe¡­ for normal.¡±

    I knew everything she was saying was right¡­ but I just couldn¡¯t bear to say the words and give my blessing to something like that. I wanted so much more for Autumn than she had. I wanted her to have everything in this world, love, a family, kids¡­ I wanted her to just be safe¡­ happy.

    ¡°Remember how much my dad hated you in the beginning?¡± she reminded me. ¡°He knew your family was rough¡­ if only he knew the truth. He said a lot of things similar to what you''re saying now, Carter. If I would have listened,¡± she looked me straight in my eyes. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t have all this; Allen, Autumn, this family.¡± Her words weighed heavily on me.

    I clenched my jaw, staring at the dashboard. ¡°I know.¡±

    Her eyes softened a little, but her voice stayed firm. ¡°She¡¯s going to have questions about what''s going on, about everything. And we can¡¯t keep her in the dark. She¡¯ll figure out we¡¯re hiding something, plus we¡¯ll probably need her help. What if Seth came back¡­ talked to Autumn? She might call him the wrong name¡­¡±

    I knew she was right. Autumn wasn¡¯t a little girl anymore and keeping her away from all of this was next to impossible. But I couldn¡¯t shake the that getting too close to Sam was dangerous, not just for her, but for all of us. But, if she accidentally outed Sam because she didn¡¯t know Seth was around, that would be on us.

    I opened the door, the cold air hitting me like a slap, and stepped out onto the messy garage floor. Dirty clumps of frozen dirt and melting snow lay scattered from the cars as we drove back and forth into the city. Eleanor followed, and we both made our way up the step to the side door in the garage, our feet crunching with wet grit.

    When I pushed open the door, the warmth hit me immediately, the familiar scent of the house filling the air. But before I could relax, something caught my eye.

    On the couch, Autumn was sitting on top of someone, her hands tangled in his hair as they kissed intensely. For a split second, my heart stopped. The dark hair, the obviously male boots on the legs sticking out from beneath Autumn. Sam. My stomach dropped, and I froze in the doorway. He was back¡­ and he was like this with Autumn. I gritted my teeth.

    Eleanor stepped in beside me, her hand flying to my arm in surprise. Her eyes were wide with the same shock. Was he back? Had Sam finally returned after vanishing that night in our yard, after disappearing with Peter Grimwood¡­ killing him. We both stood in silence¡­ unsure of how to enter the room with the two going at it so passionately. It was¡­ awkward for me to see Autumn this way.

    But then, as Autumn shifted, I saw his face. That was not Sam. That¡­ was Patrick Wicklow.

    His dark hair, once messy and loose in his youth, was now swept back into a sleek ponytail, the sides of his head shaved down to the scalp. The sharp lines of his jaw and high cheekbones, carved with the unmistakable features of his family''s gypsy heritage, caught the light from the lamp, giving him away. His slim build was more common, untrained in the ways of the hunt. That was not his family¡¯s way. He had powers¡­ like Shelta, only weaker and inexperienced. He sat beneath her with confidence in the way he held my daughter as if he belonged there.

    I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. Autumn and Patrick¡­ her ex-boyfriend, the one she¡¯d dumped long before Sam had ever come into our lives. He was the one under her, their bodies entangled on our couch like nothing had changed. I know she gave him too much attention when Sam first disappeared when we first discovered his secret. But once he returned to us, I knew she had started moving back into Sam, emotionally. As much as I didn¡¯t want her with Sam, this should have made me happy. To see her with someone else¡­ a human, but it didn¡¯t. It only made me confused. It didn¡¯t add up. Why the hell was she with Patrick like this?

    My mouth went dry. Eleanor stood next to me, her hand still covering her mouth in stunned silence. Neither of us moved, the shock of the scene in front of us freezing us in place. This wasn¡¯t Sam. This wasn¡¯t the return we¡¯d been half-expecting, half-dreading. This was something else entirely. Something... unexpected, and off.

    Autumn broke the kiss, her head snapping up, eyes wide as she finally noticed us standing there. For a second, there was a flicker of surprise in her gaze, but then nothing. No embarrassment, no shame. She just... smiled. Like everything was completely normal.

    "Hey," she said casually as if we hadn¡¯t just walked in on her making out with her ex-boyfriend on our couch. "You guys are back early."

    I couldn¡¯t speak. I just stared at her, then at Patrick, who had the nerve to grin sheepishly at us, sitting up slightly as if to give us some space, though it didn¡¯t help. The air between us was thick with unspoken questions, and I didn¡¯t have the first clue how to ask any of them.

    Patrick cleared his throat, finally breaking the silence. "Uh, hey, Carter, Eleanor," he said, too casual, his tone grating on my nerves.

    My mind was still reeling, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Patrick? Out of all the possibilities running through my head, Patrick Wicklow was the last thing I expected.

    Eleanor shifted beside me, her lips parting slightly, but no words came out. I could see the same confusion in her eyes that I felt. We hadn¡¯t seen Patrick in a little while now. The recent deaths of his father and grandmother had destroyed his family, but here he was. He seemed¡­ lighter and happy. Autumn hadn¡¯t even mentioned him, not once since Sam became such a figure in our family. Even though I feared their bond, her connection with Sam was noticeable. It was a silent bond that you could see in the way they moved and acted around each other. And now, here Patrick was in the place I fully expected to see Sam.

    Autumn sat up straighter, adjusting her shirt like nothing had happened. "What¡¯s with the looks?" she asked her tone light, almost teasing. "We were just hanging out." She brushed her dark brown braid over her shoulder, trying to break the awkward tension.

    I finally managed to find my voice, though it felt strained like I was pushing through a fog. "Patrick?" I asked, the disbelief still thick in my throat. "What are you doing here?"

    He glanced at Autumn, his smile slipping for just a second before he plastered it back on. "Oh, uh, Autumn and I have been talking again. You know, reconnecting."

    Reconnecting? That was one hell of a word for what we had just walked in on. I stared at him, then at Autumn, trying to piece together how this had happened. Patrick Wicklow, of all people, was back in our house, acting like he belonged¡­ with her. I knew she had made it abundantly clear that they were over¡­ many times. He had practically begged her at times to take him back.

    Autumn shrugged, still unfazed. "Yeah, it¡¯s no big deal. We¡¯ve been talking for a while now. After everything¡­ Bartley¡­ Annabelle," Autumn actually started to tear up at the thought of Annabelle. She shook it off, trying to regain her composure. ¡°We just decided to stop stepping around each other and admit what we want.¡±

    Eleanor¡¯s voice finally cut through the fog, soft but sharp. "Autumn... you never said anything. We had no idea."

    Autumn gave her a look as if she didn¡¯t understand what the problem was. "Well, I didn¡¯t think it was that important. I mean, it¡¯s not like I have to announce every detail of my life."

    I couldn¡¯t stop staring at her, at them. This wasn¡¯t like her. She wasn¡¯t acting like herself. And Patrick... something was off with him, too. He was too comfortable, too... present.

    Patrick leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees, and for a moment, his eyes met mine. There was something there, something unspoken. Like he knew we were questioning what we were seeing. Like he knew exactly what was going through our minds. This just didn¡¯t add up.

    Autumn looked between the two of us, her smile still in place, but her tone shifting just slightly, a hint of defensiveness creeping in. She knew the questions we were trying to figure out how to ask. "What¡¯s the big deal? It¡¯s not like I owe Sam anything. He was just¡­ a phase, I guess. I¡¯m allowed to move on with my life."

    ¡°Autumn this is all¡­ so sudden. I just didn¡¯t think¡­¡± Eleanor cut herself off, unsure of how to continue.

    Eleanor flinched at the mention of Sam¡¯s name and struggled to speak in the situation. I felt my heart tighten. This wasn¡¯t right. None of it was right. And the worst part was, I didn¡¯t know what to say to make it any better. Part of me wanted this; a normal relationship for Autumn. But to see it in front of my face, knowing everything I knew¡­ it wasn¡¯t right.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Autumn, I think what your mother is trying to say, is that we are just a little concerned is all. How will Sam react? It seemed like you two were reconnecting before he disappeared. What if he really is still alive¡­ and he comes back? He is something¡­ someone,¡± I corrected myself, ¡°that we have to think about. I¡¯m pretty sure that,¡± I pointed between the both of them. ¡°That this will affect him in a way.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to let anything, or anyone get in between me and Patrick again¡± she spoke out loud as a pure fact. ¡°Not anymore.¡± Autumn sat back on the couch with Patrick, draping her legs over his as she stared at us, waiting to see what we¡¯d say next. ¡°Obviously it might be a little weird for him to be around us¡­ but, he¡¯ll just have to move on. If he can''t handle it, I''m sure he¡¯ll just leave. He¡¯s good at that¡­ just look at how he left his own family!¡± She scoffed.

    ¡°AUTUMN!¡± Eleanor snapped and started yelling. ¡°WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH! DO NOT EVER TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT AGAIN! YOU DON¡¯T GET TO JUST THROW AWAY HIS SACRIFICES LIKE THAT!¡± Eleanor stared daggers at our daughter. Patrick and Autumn were both shaken from the outburst, not expecting such a reaction from her own mother. El stormed off, pacing upstairs in a fury.

    I was beyond confused. What she had just said¡­ is something my daughter would have never said¡­ not about Sam. Something was going on¡­ why was she doing this?

    Patrick just sat there like a bystander watching a fight between two parties he wasn¡¯t associated with. He didn¡¯t want to get involved even though he was a centerpiece in this problem.

    Eleanor and I were in the kitchen later that same evening, talking about the problem with Seth, and now with Autumn. We stood there, caught in the moment, the snow falling outside, while inside, everything was unraveling. We didn¡¯t tell Autumn about Seth¡­ she was too occupied. Part of me thought that, with how she was acting, she wouldn¡¯t care. The notion alone was outlandish to me.

    The thought of Sam seeing Autumn like that¡­ so comfortable, so at ease with someone else¡­ it made my stomach churn. I never liked the idea of my daughter being tied to someone with Sam¡¯s kind of darkness, but even I couldn¡¯t deny they cared about each other. But now? Now, it felt like she was moving on. Quickly. Too quickly.

    ¡°If Sam sees them together, after all he''s been through, it could push him away for good,¡± Eleanor murmured. She wasn¡¯t wrong. Sam was already hanging on by a thread at times, his whole life torn apart by what he¡¯d become¡­ what he¡¯d done.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how he¡¯d handle this.¡± My voice was quieter than I intended, the weight of the words sinking deep. ¡°Patrick and Autumn doing this now? It¡¯s bad timing. It¡¯s¡­¡± I played scenarios in my mind. ¡°Am I crazy, or is this just¡­ wrong? Like this just doesn¡¯t seem like her¡­ like nothing she¡¯d ever do.¡±

    ¡°I wonder if Kayla knows¡­ if not, what will she think?¡± El thought out loud.

    I sighed, ¡°That poor girl has been chasing Patrick around as long as Patrick has been after Autumn. Once she finds out¡­ after losing her father¡­ this might be too much.¡± I shook my head, ¡°What the fuck is Autumn thinking?¡±

    We both sat there, the tension thick in the room. I couldn¡¯t get rid of the feeling that everything was slipping out of control. And then there was Seth.

    ¡°If Sam doesn¡¯t come back,¡± Eleanor said, her eyes filled with fear, ¡°what are we going to do about Seth? He¡¯s not going to stop. If he keeps pushing, it''s only a matter of time. He¡¯s already shown up at the main office asking questions. He¡¯s throwing our names around town too much.¡±

    Seth had been to the police, and spoken with detectives about a stolen passport. He claimed we had it somehow and just let the wild goose chase begin. We knew that he didn¡¯t have much to go on, but he was searching for anything. I think he knew he wouldn¡¯t get anything out of his talks with the authorities since we denied all claims and spewed the same lies we told Seth when he first came knocking. I think he was just trying to frazzle us, get us to slip and say something. We just had to hold on a little longer and hopefully, he¡¯d leave. He had to have a life to go back to¡­ a family of his own. It was also very odd to see him in person, since he shared such a striking resemblance to his twin brother, our friend, Sam.

    I shook my head. ¡°We¡¯ll have to keep stalling. Buy ourselves time. Maybe we can figure out something. But we need to talk to Sam first.¡±

    ¡°If we can even find him,¡± she said, her voice cracking with worry.

    That was the heart of it, wasn¡¯t it? Finding him. The last time we saw Sam, he disappeared into the night after taking Peter Grimwood out of this world. No phone, no contact. Just¡­ gone. We had no idea where he was, or if he even wanted to come back.

    ¡°If he thinks Autumn¡¯s moved on,¡± I said, swallowing hard, ¡°would he have a reason to come back here? I¡¯m not sure he would.¡±

    El barely got the words out. I think she was trying to convince herself, ¡°No¡­ don¡¯t say that.¡± Her eyes were heavy with sadness that ran deep. Eleanor was connected to him too, in a way none of us could understand. Sam had traded his life for Eleanor¡¯s when she was killed by the chimera, Phineas. He had done so much for her, for Allen, our whole family. For me.

    The thought sent a chill down my spine. Sam was already carrying more than any one person should. And if he thought he had nothing left to return to, what reason would he have to stick around? Why fight for a life that was crumbling?

    I stared at the empty hallway where Autumn and Patrick had disappeared through, a knot twisting in my gut. I didn¡¯t know what was going on with her, with him. I didn¡¯t understand why this was happening now, of all times. But the bigger question loomed over all of it. Where was Sam?

    <hr>

    The air was cold one evening, the snow had stopped falling, and the wind had died down. Being outside was more bearable, but still frigid. It seemed like that storm had finally let up. I was standing by the window, watching the shadows stretch long into the forest, my mind still caught up in the mess tangling my family. I didn¡¯t even notice him at first¡­ just a dark figure moving in the tree line, almost blending into the blackness. Then I saw him. Sam.

    I froze for a moment, my heart lurching in my chest. It had seemed like forever since we¡¯d seen him since he¡¯d vanished with Peter Grimwood like a ghost in the night. He looked different now, rougher around the edges. His frame was bulkier, his clothes hanging ragged off his muscular body. His black eyes caught the dim light from the house, glinting like dark mirrors, and even from a distance, I could feel the weight of his presence.

    Without thinking, I bolted for the door, throwing it open and rushing outside, the cold air biting at my skin. "Sam!"

    He didn¡¯t move, just stood there at the edge of the tree line, half-hidden by the darkness. But his gaze locked on mine, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of relief in his eyes. He was back. But as I got closer, that relief faded, replaced by something heavier, something darker.

    ¡°Carter,¡± he said, his voice low, almost hoarse. ¡°It¡¯s been... a little while.¡±

    ¡°Sam.¡± I stopped a few feet from him, my breath coming in sharp puffs. ¡°Thank God. I thought¡­ I thought we¡¯d never see you again. When you left that night to go to Martin¡¯s to kill Peter¡­ they told us he took you. We thought you were dead¡­ then you came back and¡­¡± he cut me off.

    He lowered his head slightly as if the weight of everything that had happened was too much to carry. ¡°I didn¡¯t know if I¡¯d ever come back. I was¡­ stuck for a while.¡±

    I glanced over my shoulder, towards the house. Fear of what he might sense inside stirred in me. "Listen, we need to talk. But¡­ out here. Not inside."

    Sam frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Why? What¡¯s going on?"

    I hesitated. How the hell was I supposed to explain this? "Autumn¡¯s here," I started, my words slow, careful. "But... she¡¯s not alone."

    Sam¡¯s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "What do you mean?"

    "Patrick¡¯s with her. They¡¯re... together. Again. I¡¯m not sure if you knew¡­ I just¡­"

    He stared at me, unblinking, the words sinking in like lead. I could see the shift in his posture, the subtle tightening of his fists at his sides, but he didn¡¯t say anything. Not yet. His silence was more telling than anything he could¡¯ve said. His eyes remained black the whole time we spoke. It was unsettling.

    I pressed on before he could react, trying to keep my voice steady. "There¡¯s more, Sam. Seth¡­ your brother¡­ he came by the house."

    Sam¡¯s head jerked up, his black eyes locking onto mine, wide with disbelief. "Seth?" His voice caught in his throat as he shook his head in confusion. "Wait¡­ wait¡­ here? In St. Louis?"

    His whole demeanor shifted like a wave had hit him. Whatever numb, monstrous calm he¡¯d been holding onto started to crack.

    I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of what I was about to tell him. "Yeah. He¡¯s been talking to the police. About identity theft. About a stolen passport."

    At that, Sam¡¯s face drained of color, and I could see the fear crawling up through him. His usually tough, composed exterior began to fall apart, and for the first time since I¡¯d known him, he looked genuinely scared. Not the cautious, calculating type of worry I¡¯d seen when he was trying to contain what lived inside him, this was something deeper.

    ¡°The passport¡­¡± His voice dropped to a whisper as he could barely get the words out. His eyes darted, unfocused. ¡°...fuck¡­¡±

    The weight of that single word hung between us like a blade ready to drop. He was piecing it together in real time, the full impact of what he¡¯d done hit him all at once. I saw his breathing hitch, his chest rising and falling faster, the air suddenly too thick around him.

    Sam trailed off, his lips parting as if he was going to say something, but nothing came. His breaths were shallow now, his whole frame tensing like an animal cornered. The panic was seeping in, his mind racing through the implications. He knew. He knew exactly what this meant; that Seth, the brother he¡¯d been trying to keep distant from this twisted supernatural world, had somehow gotten sucked in. Because of him. What would happen if he found out the truth¡­ if his wife or the rest of his family found out the truth?

    "I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d lead him here," Sam finally muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. His hand went to his forehead, fingers pressing hard into his skull like he could physically push the thought away. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever come looking.¡± His mind was far off in another world.

    I could see his panic mounting, a storm brewing behind those blackened eyes. Sam wasn¡¯t just scared; he was coming undone. All the walls he¡¯d built, the distance he¡¯d put between himself and his old life was crumbling in front of him.

    "Sam," I said, stepping closer, trying to ground him. "You didn¡¯t know. You couldn¡¯t have¡­"

    He cut me off, his voice shaking now. "I should¡¯ve known. I used his name, Carter. I used your fucking address¡­ like a fucking idiot! I did this. I brought him here." His eyes flicked up to meet mine, a mixture of terror and guilt swirling behind them. "If Seth finds out¡­ if he gets pulled into this mess, it¡¯ll kill him. I was ready to go back¡­ find out a way to tell them the truth¡­ but not like this¡­"

    There was a rawness in his voice, a deep fear not just for himself, but for his brother. The brother he¡¯d kept at arm¡¯s length for so long, thinking that distance and death would protect Seth from what he had become. But now that same distance had drawn Seth right into danger.

    "You didn¡¯t mean for this to happen," I tried again, my voice gentler this time, but firm. "We can figure this out before it gets worse. How do you want to handle this? We could bring him in, prepare him maybe¡­ so you can talk to him. Show yourself to your brother...."

    "But what if he reacts¡­ bad?" Sam¡¯s voice was sharp, his gaze searching mine for an answer. "What if he doesn¡¯t accept it¡­ what if he tells the rest of them that I¡¯m something unrecognizable¡­" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought, his expression clouding with dread.

    I didn¡¯t have an easy answer for him, not one that would take away the weight of what he was carrying. I could feel his fear and desperation hanging in the air between us.

    He finally lowered his head, staring at the ground, his fists clenched tight. "I have to fix this," he muttered under his breath. "Before it spirals out of control. Before he gets hurt." His voice wavered as if even he wasn¡¯t sure if it was too late.

    I stood there, watching him battle his own thoughts, and then, as if a fresh wave of pain hit him, his whole body stiffened.

    ¡°Sam, listen to me,¡± I said, stepping closer. ¡°Seth doesn¡¯t know the truth. He¡¯s poking around, trying to figure out who used his identity, but he¡¯s still in the dark about... everything else.¡±

    Sam shook his head, his hand coming up to rub at his face, his eyes wide and unfocused. ¡°But if he keeps digging, he¡¯ll find out. And once he¡¯s in, there¡¯s no getting out. The supernatural world... he¡¯s not ready for that, Carter. I have to stop this. I have to protect him.¡±

    I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out. Let me speak with Wayland about this¡­ he might be able to come up with a way to lead Seth away. He¡¯s tech-savvy and might be able to swing something that will get rid of your brother for now. I just didn¡¯t want to do anything until I spoke with you first; to see if you wanted help maybe telling him the truth?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Sam replied. ¡°Not right now¡­ not like this. I have a plan, but this is too soon. I have other things going on right now¡­ important things. I can¡¯t go to them yet. But once this is over¡­ maybe. Then¡­ I might need your help¡­ telling him, all of them the truth.¡±

    We stood in silence as I nodded, agreeing to work with Wayland on finding a way to lead Seth away from the city. He had contacts that were even better with computers than he was. He used those contacts a handful of times when our hunts and investigations into humans that were linked with creatures required it. I knew he could think of a way to give him a lead that would get him off our scent. Now that I had the go-ahead, and Sam did not want to open this can of worms yet, we¡¯d move forward.

    I waited to see what Sam would say next. He didn¡¯t look okay. He still had his monstrous black eyes that warped his face, but he looked human. His face looked defeated¡­ strung out, and tired. Between everything I had just dumped on him, and whatever else he had gone through, Sam was having a moment.

    ¡°Autumn.¡± His voice cracked, and I could see the pain flickering in his eyes. ¡°She... she¡¯s with Patrick?¡±

    I didn¡¯t know how to answer that. Not in a way that wouldn¡¯t hurt him even more. But he already knew. The look on his face said everything. He just wanted to hear me say it again. ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll be honest, Sam¡­ I don¡¯t understand it either. It just¡­ happened all of a sudden.¡±

    ¡°I told her once, Carter¡­ just like I told you and Eleanor. I said if she ever wanted me gone, all she had to do was say the word¡­ I guess¡­ she couldn¡¯t say it¡­¡± he shook his head, trying to connect some kind of dots that would make sense to him.

    ¡°Sam, it¡¯s not like that,¡± I said quickly, though I wasn¡¯t sure if I believed it myself.

    His shoulders slumped, the weight of everything pressing him down as if he was finally beginning to buckle under it all. ¡°I thought I had more time,¡± he whispered. ¡°More time to fix this. To come back.¡±

    There was a long, heavy silence. The kind that stretched and grew, as though the space between us widened despite how close we stood. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Sam had been through hell; more than anyone could fathom, and now, just when he thought he could return, everything had shifted. His world had moved on without him.

    ¡°Is she alright, Carter?¡± His voice was barely above a whisper. ¡°Is she safe¡­ happy?¡±

    A knot tightened in my chest, his words striking harder than I expected. There was nothing I could say to ease his pain. Nothing that could fix this.

    ¡°Yes, Sam. As far as I can tell,¡± I admitted, although it pained me to say it. The words came out strained, my jaw clenching after.

    He looked up at me finally, his eyes hollow, numb. "Have you noticed anything strange about Autumn or Patrick?" His words were more inquisitive and his attitude shifted slightly.

    I frowned, shaking my head. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Sam¡¯s gaze darkened, his voice dropping lower. ¡°When I got Peter¡¯s name¡­ and saw the vision of all the fucked up shit he had done¡­ I saw something.¡± Sam gritted his teeth at the memory. ¡°Peter Grimwood was in Autumn¡¯s dorm room¡­ he killed her roommate¡­took a hairbrush of Autumn¡¯s. I don¡¯t know what he did, but he cast some kind of power into it, some intent, and gave it to Patrick.¡± His eyes flared with something between fury and desperation. ¡°I saw him whispering things into Patrick¡¯s ear¡­ meeting with him. Patrick didn¡¯t want any of it¡­ I know that for certain¡­ but Patrick... Patrick never told anyone about it. Did he?¡±

    The knot in my chest tightened even further. I stared at Sam, unsure of what to say. That sense of looming dread, the one that had been sitting just out of reach, suddenly closed in around me. Peter Grimwood, manipulating Patrick? It wasn¡¯t just a fear; Sam had seen it. Hadn¡¯t he? Would he lie about something like this?

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked, though deep down, I already knew he was.

    Sam nodded, his gaze drifting back to the ground. ¡°Patrick never said a word. I don¡¯t even think Annabelle knew. The power could have died with Peter¡­ but I don¡¯t know. I just want to make sure that Autumn is safe.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what to say. The implications of it twisted in my gut, making everything feel even more out of control. What had Peter done? What had he whispered into Patrick¡¯s ear? I just nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep watch, and look into this. If what you are saying is true¡­ Patrick is going to have a lot of questions coming his way. From everyone.¡±

    Sam¡¯s shoulders sagged even more, his voice raw as he spoke again. ¡°What do I do now?¡± He wasn¡¯t talking to me.

    I shook my head slowly, swallowing the rising panic, answering him anyway. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But whatever happens, we¡¯ll figure it out. Seth... Patrick and Autumn... all of it.¡±

    Sam nodded, though it was a hollow gesture, devoid of any real belief. He stared at the house, eyes fixed on the soft glow from the windows, the light casting long, eerie shadows across the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t belong here anymore, do I?¡± His voice came out fragile, broken like he was barely holding himself together. It wasn¡¯t a question for anyone, only for himself.

    I didn¡¯t answer. Deep down, I knew he was feeling something that no words would heal. Only time could do that.

    I turned to look at the house, that warm light spilling into the night. For a brief second, I thought maybe¡­ just maybe, there was still something left to hope for, something that could be salvaged from this mess tonight.

    But when I turned back to Sam, he was gone. Vanished into the darkness. Only the cold, empty air remained, and with it, a creeping sense of unease.

    I stood there for a moment longer, the night swallowing any trace of him, before looking back toward the house. The glow from the windows suddenly felt much further away.

    I started walking back towards the house, trudging through the high snow. I already had my cell phone out, and I was calling Shelta. If what Sam had just told me was true¡­ I was about to raise a fucking shit storm. What kind of threat did Peter Grimwood''s power still pose to us? What kind of interactions did Patrick have with the dark gypsy, and why didn¡¯t I know about it before now. Why did it take Sam to tell me this shit?

 Chapter 65 - The Start of Something New (Two Weeks Ago)

    I¡¯d been having... dreams¡­ no, visions, more like. Even when I was wide awake, they slithered into my mind, creeping up on me like shadows that didn¡¯t belong. It was like I was standing in the fields¡­ Death¡¯s dimension. These dreams weren¡¯t of the familiar woods or the endless expanse where Death usually roamed. No, these were darker, more visceral. They were of the graveyard, the fields of decay that were born from the body of the Primeval¡­ Myoordrakien.

    In those moments, I could see it, a grotesque, colossal corpse stretched out before me. Its body was a landscape of ruin, desiccated flesh stretched tight over ancient bones that groaned with the weight of time. The air was thick with the stench of rot, choking, clinging to my skin. Its vast form, despite its lifelessness, still pulsed with some malignant energy, a sickening, slow rhythm. The last flickers of life throbbed through it, faint but unyielding.

    Then I¡¯d see it¡­ the heart pounding steadily like an engine of destruction. It was bloated, red, and glowing like some foul ember buried deep in its chest. It beat, slow and deliberate, the sound hammering my skull like a monstrous metronome, dragging me toward it. Each pulse sent a wave of dread through me, a sick pull that I couldn¡¯t shake. It wanted something from me. Something more than it had gotten before. It wanted¡­ free.

    I¡¯d snap out of it, heart pounding, the images clinging to me like cobwebs. But the sensation lingered, the pull... as if that decaying thing in the fields was still watching, still calling, with that damned heartbeat echoing in my head. I could feel the beat of my own heart, in rhythm with it, synced to the power¡­ bound to it more than ever before.

    Then, I started to realize something was terribly wrong. My eyes¡­ they¡¯d shifted. Not just a momentary flicker¡­ a slip in control¡­ no, this was different. My human blue eyes were gone, swallowed by an inky blackness that filled the entire socket. I stared at myself in the cracked mirror of Martin¡¯s safe house bathroom, panic rising like bile in my throat. There was no white, no trace of blue, just black, endless and unnatural. My heart raced as I leaned closer to the glass, willing them to change back, to return to what they should be. But nothing happened.

    I gripped the edge of the sink, my knuckles white, trying to steady my breathing. What the hell was happening? I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing every ounce of energy on pushing it down, forcing the blackness away, locking the monster back in the cage where it belonged. When I opened them again, I saw the faintest hint of blue, like a flicker of hope. But it felt like trying to hold my breath underwater, agonizing, suffocating. As soon as I let up, even the tiniest bit, the darkness surged back in, swirling over my irises, devouring them whole again.

    It wouldn¡¯t stop. It wouldn¡¯t go away.

    The mirror seemed to mock me as I stared into those hollow, black voids, my reflection looking more like a stranger, something twisted and wrong. My breath quickened, heart thudding in my chest, as I realized the truth: the monster was slipping out, clawing its way into the light, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t shove it back. It was out¡­ just enough, and I had no control over the aspect of my being that it had taken over. A creeping dread sank into me, a horrible, gnawing fear that this was only the beginning. Something inside me was changing, something beyond my control, and I was powerless to stop it. Was Death behind this? Was this the Primeval? I thought I understood everything now¡­ what I was meant for¡­ meant to do. None of this made sense. I didn¡¯t realize it at the time, but I was panicking, making things worse than they were.

    It was only a split second, but I heard something. Not audibly, but inside my head. It was just like when I was in that hellscape, where Peter Grimwood had ditched me in hopes that his benefactor, the Unseen Primeval would kill me. But, the Unseen spoke to me¡­ inside my head. It was unusual, but absolute. A mental voice, not as strong as when Death called for me, but powerful in its own way.

    This new voice spoke one word to me telepathically, but it sounded like a freight train growling past my brain.

    ¡°KILL!¡±

    It hit me harder than words ever could; a violent flash of darkness that swallowed my mind whole, my vision vanishing into an all-consuming void. The blackness tore through my thoughts like a thunderclap, leaving nothing but echoes and vibrations that rattled through the empty space around me. It was as if I was suddenly standing in pure nothingness¡­ no sound, no ground, no air, just a crushing sense of isolation. But then, in a blinding instant, something massive appeared in front of me.

    A colossal shadow loomed in the void, an impossible shape that swallowed the darkness itself. For a brief, horrifying moment, its form became clear with the pulse of its blood-red heart¡­ a light so sinister it seemed to burn from within. The ruby glow flared through its thick, blackened flesh, seeping outward like molten lava. With each beat, the light surged and revealed dark, jagged lines deep within its massive chest, casting a silhouette of the bones that formed this monstrous thing. The ribcage, vast and angular, stretched beneath its skin, like a cage of ancient stone, framing the heart¡¯s deadly pulse as if it were barely containing the raw power within.

    Jagged black scales rose like the sides of a cliff, towering into the darkness above. Vast wings unfurled with slow, menacing power, stretching wide as if they could swallow everything around us. Sharp black spikes of bone gouged deep into the unseen ground of this void beneath me, anchoring the beast in place. It stood there, motionless, staring at me. And then, like a shudder of realization, I knew where we were.

    This was inside my mind. The cage. The place I had locked away the worst of myself. This was Myoordrakien. We were in the cage together.

    Every inch of it radiated violence, its jagged spikes and writhing, razor-edged tentacles poised to tear apart the world. Its eyes¡­ black, endless voids bored into me. They weren¡¯t just watching. They were devouring me, stripping away everything inside me, swallowing every shred of hope, and leaving nothing behind but the dark certainty of its presence.

    The single word echoed in my mind again, primal and absolute.

    ¡°KILL!¡±

    I jumped back from the sink, my heart beating harder in surprise. ¡°What the fuck?¡± I took a few deep breaths, still gazing upon my pitch-black eyes in the mirror, my hands shaking at my sides as I retreated from the experience. My breath came in ragged and stunned.

    Very quickly, I left. I had to get out of there. The cold cut through me as soon as I stepped out of the safe house. The wind almost took the door off its hinges as I opened it. Snow packed under my boots; the quiet woods blanketed in white. I made my way into town, pacing, hoping I could push the blackness from my eyes. I had to get out of the safe house, away from what was happening, and the voice. I was an idiot because the safehouse had nothing to do with it.

    The streets were empty. It was a ghost town under the weight of the frigid storm. I was walking down an unarmed road, nothing remarkable about it. The streetlights began to flicker as I passed cars parallel parked on the curb. I started looking around, curious about the lights and what was causing the disturbance. I passed by a truck, the window bouncing the surroundings back like a perfect mirror in the night. My steps faltered. I only caught it out of the corner of my eye, but something wasn¡¯t right.

    It was me, but not. The reflection stared back, cold, lifeless, the edges of my features sharper, the eyes empty black. It didn¡¯t move as I did but held a stance separate from what I was doing. It wasn¡¯t my reflection, but an entity of its own staring back at me. I should¡¯ve known.

    "Sam," the reflection said in my own voice¡­ only flatter, devoid of anything human. Death had never appeared like this to me before.

    I took a breath and forced myself to keep steady. "This is¡­ new?" I said, keeping my voice low, and controlled.

    Death¡¯s reflection didn¡¯t shift. His gaze held mine, still and unnerving. "As you grow in knowledge, so do we in bond. I will be able to communicate with you more freely now in the physical world."

    I nodded, waiting for whatever was coming next. I didn¡¯t question him, knowing what he said was fact.

    "You¡¯re planning to go into the pits," he continued, as though reading my thoughts. "Abel spoke of the deal that was made?"

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. Warily, I asked a question myself, ¡°What kind of deal is this? Is this something you want¡­ or something for¡­ someone else?¡± I recalled the things Abel had said to me on his front porch not too long ago.

    Death smiled in the reflection¡­ it was disturbing. ¡°It is the machinations of another¡­ but it serves me in the grander scheme.¡±

    The cold wind whipped around me as I stood, staring into the reflection on the truck window.

    ¡°So¡­ I can go down there and kill anything I want? Abel wants me to burn that place to the ground. It won''t upset the balance?¡± I asked though a dozen more questions were clawing to get out.

    The corners of his lips twitched in response, but it wasn¡¯t a smile. There was no warmth, no humor, only that unnerving neutrality. ¡°I¡¯ll allow it,¡± he said, his voice flat, almost hollow.

    The way he said it sent a chill crawling up my spine, sharper than the icy wind cutting through the streets. His head tilted, as if curious, but it was a lifeless gesture, purely mechanical.

    ¡°But,¡± Death added, his gaze piercing through me, ¡°there¡¯s a condition.¡±

    I felt the weight of the blade hanging just outside the physical world, tethered to me from the other side of existence. A part of me I rarely used, but always knew was there, never truly understanding its purpose. Then¡­ I felt it disappear.

    ¡°You¡¯re taking the blade from me?¡± I blinked, the words coming out before I could stop them. ¡°Now? Why?¡± I didn¡¯t even know why I was asking. I barely used it, yet some deep instinct within me recoiled at the thought of being separated from it.

    Death¡¯s eyes remained as cold as the night. ¡°The blade is more than just a weapon, Sam. It is my mark upon you, a direct link between us. Where you are going, into the pits¡­ my presence cannot follow. If you carry the blade, it will disrupt what must happen. Things are already set in motion, and they cannot be altered. You¡¯d be walking down there waving my flag¡­ and then she¡¯d run¡­¡±

    ¡°She¡­¡± I asked ominously.

    Death¡¯s face went blank again, with no hint of clues in his face¡­ my face. ¡°In time.¡±

    I stood there, my reflection staring back at me, that familiar hollowness behind Death¡¯s eyes making my skin crawl. ¡°So¡­ what does this mean?¡± I asked, my voice low, almost a whisper, though I already knew the answer.

    ¡°The Primeval,¡± he said, his words calm, but they seemed to darken the air around us. ¡°Myoordrakien¡¯s power in you. It¡¯s not just the monster you shift into. It¡¯s a force of pure destruction, a doom that you have failed to harness. You must bind closer to it, deeper than ever before. You¡¯ve been keeping it at bay, afraid of what it will make you in this human world. But in the pits, you will need it. You¡¯ll need to let it consume you if you want to survive.¡±

    My throat tightened. I glanced down, feeling the thrum of Myoordrakien¡¯s heartbeat growing louder inside me. My heart didn¡¯t feel like it was beating anymore, but thrumming continuously¡­ like the constant rushing of a massive river. My chest vibrated, my blood was boiling, and every cell of my body carried a portion of Primeval life force. It was always there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed. A power too great for this world, too dark for me to control fully. If I said I wasn''t scared in the deepest parts of my soul¡­ I¡¯d be a liar. What would it mean if I became even more of this thing?

    ¡°It''s doing something¡­ it''s taking over!¡± I said, pointing to my own black eyes.

    ¡°It is. It wants to grow. It wants to merge further with you. This is the path of every person that has served in this role. You need to stop resisting, and let him in¡­¡± Death spoke calmly.

    Let him in? What was that supposed to even mean? What was next, after my eyes, my teeth, my mouth? Would it slowly turn me further and further from human? Would I walk this world in monstrous form forever?

    ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± The question left my lips before I could stop it, though I already knew the answer.

    Death¡¯s expression didn¡¯t shift, not even a flicker of emotion. ¡°Then you will be the one to disrupt the balance, Sam. The task you are so eager to undertake will fail, and with it, the plans I¡¯ve spent centuries crafting. You will derail everything, including yourself.¡± He eyed me curiously, seeing right to my core and the thoughts that plagued me. ¡°In time, you will learn your fears are holding you back.¡±

    I swallowed, the pulse of the Primeval humming through my veins. Destruction¡­ somehow it was an emotion surging through my body. Every cell in my body flexed and reached out, searching for death¡­ annihilation. It transformed my thoughts, creating a will in me to want to kill and destroy. It consumed my mind. The pits were waiting. The darkness there¡­ I would need more of the monster''s power than ever before. I would need everything I had¡­ and more. But what would that mean?

    ¡°You¡¯re not just losing the blade,¡± Death continued, his voice low and steady, ¡°you¡¯re giving up our direct connection¡­ for a time. You will be alone down there, Sam. No guiding hand, no whispers of my blade. Only your Primeval¡­ and you.¡±

    I was interested to ask this next thought. An old ¡°plan B¡± returning to my mind. ¡°Can I die down there?¡±

    Death nodded, ¡°Yes. However,¡± a sly grin on his face, ¡°you would return to me. It is not your death you need to be concerned about. Like I told you before, there are places you can be trapped. After killing the Unseen, other Primevals took notice. They don¡¯t know that it is I who hunts them, but they know their brother was slain. They feel his power retracting from the world and plains of existence. Without the direct connection to me, you could be trapped in the pits, with no way to summon my power as you did against the Unseen.¡±

    I stared at the door of the truck, not looking at death for a moment. ¡°There''s a lot more you¡¯re not telling me¡­ isn¡¯t there?¡±

    ¡°Naturally,¡± Death spoke plainly, hiding nothing about the fact that he was keeping things from me. More than that¡­ it was like he didn¡¯t need me to know everything. I was meant for a very specific task¡­ and that was the information he gave me. It started to make me feel¡­ small.

    ¡°And when it¡¯s done?¡± I asked, my voice barely audible now, the weight of what was coming pressing down on me. ¡°What happens then¡­ do I get the blade back? Will this thing inside me stop trying to take over?¡±

    Death didn¡¯t smile, but there was something in his expression that felt almost¡­ satisfied. ¡°When it¡¯s done,¡± he said calmly, ¡°you¡¯ll understand why you had to do it this way. Why the Primeval inside you is your true weapon. Then¡­ you¡¯ll thank me.¡±

    His words hung in the air like a cold breath, and then he was gone. His reflection dissolved into the frost-covered glass, leaving my true reflection staring back at me, and mimicking my movements.

    He was gone, as was the blade. Death''s words hit me harder than I expected. The moment he was gone, it felt strange. I felt detached¡­ aimless. Death''s departure left me feeling a loss of something only recently gained. As he vanished with the death blade, I truly felt something had changed. It was just me¡­ and the monster inside. If Death was watching me¡­ I didn¡¯t feel it. The only presence I felt was the never-ending force of murderous wrath that raged in my core. Part of me felt like Death had just turned me loose, and was allowing me to strike out on my own for a while. I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t excited, and also terrified. What if I fucked up? What if the Primeval took over completely¡­ and I was just a memory of a man? What exactly was Death aiming for here? Part of me knew he wasn¡¯t telling me things, and another part thought that whatever I was doing for Abel¡­ wasn¡¯t exactly what Death was playing along with. Death had his own plans. Again I felt like a pawn in much larger schemes.

    However¡­ the pits were waiting. And now, without the blade, so was I. The monster inside stirred, eager for what was to come. And I had no choice but to let it out when the time came.

    First¡­ I needed to see Carter. I wanted to go talk with him about what I needed to do. To see if he had heard anything about Charles, or the pits from any contacts he might have. I also needed to speak with him about Autumn, and the big secret I had revealed to her. I had told her the absolute truth that I had very recently come to realize. That Death himself was the one pulling my strings. That I was given my power and purpose in this dark, second life by the Grim Reaper¡­ to keep some kind of balance that I couldn¡¯t interpret. She did not take it well. Her physical body reacted to it, almost running from the truth. I wanted to make sure she was alright too; and if she was, tell Carter and Eleanor what I had told Autumn.

    One more thing weighed me down. Patrick, Peter, and the hairbrush. That sounded like a bad movie or some kind of dark children''s book. But it settled over me as a lethargic haze. Patrick had something of Autumn¡¯s¡­ something that Peter Grimwood had cursed. I had to know what it was meant for¡­ what it could do¡­

    I started walking in the direction of the Chasse familial home¡­ to see my friends once again. I just hoped my eyes wouldn¡¯t scare them, because they were not turning back. They were inhuman and hungry.

    <hr>

    I was numb to the world. I was walking; left then right, left then right. I had to be like this again. With the blackness still taking over my eyes, and the monster inside still trying to expand outwards from its cage, it was already hard. Once I had spoken with Carter¡­ everything got more unstable.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Autumn¡­ was no longer mine. Any tether that bound us together had been severed. Why did she not say anything the other night? Maybe it was the truth that I shared with her. Maybe it was the straw that broke the camel''s back. She just couldn¡¯t keep finding reasons to ignore my monstrous reality. Or it was Patrick. He had done something¡­ I didn''t know.

    Not to mention, Seth was in town. His presence terrified me. It was one thing to think I was ready to go back and somehow return to my family with the truth; it was another thing entirely to find out that Seth was so close¡­ right in the middle of my current predicaments. He had spoken with Carter. He was getting wrapped up in the city, with the police, chasing down Carter and the family. He was on the hunt¡­ and I was scared of what he¡¯d find¡­ or what would find him. With how much the Primeval was clawing to get out, to expand the territory of its control in my mind, fears for my brother''s safety swarmed me. Old fears cropped up. Thoughts of hiding away to keep them all safe returned. I shook my head¡­ nothing was ever as easy as it seemed in my best moments.

    Two personal explosions had derailed me from my quiet calm of coming to the truth. Everything I thought was coming next, once Peter was dead, had been sidelined. Now I had to deal with this Seth situation, Autumn and Patrick, and whatever that all meant. Not to mention I had to gain entry into the pits¡­ go down there and raise hell. I had been let off the leash, Death giving me authority to go down there and slaughter for reasons he hadn¡¯t fully explained. All the while the Primeval inside my soul was clawing for more power in my life¡­ to merge with me even further. I was scared of what that meant; for me, for Autumn¡­ if that even mattered anymore, for Seth, Vicky, my family¡­ my daughter¡­ Caydee. Just when I thought I was in a good place¡­ life explodes and throws all my carefully laid plans down the shitter.

    I went to the next place I thought I would find a lead, also trying to distance myself from Carter''s house. I tried not to think about everything Carter had just said to me. If I did, I feared my grip on the wheel might slip¡­ and I¡¯d lose control. With how much pressure I felt from inside the cage¡­ I couldn¡¯t. I tried to just think about my goal, getting inside the pits. I needed to talk to Martin. I¡¯d have time to feel sorry for myself later; to go over what had just happened with Autumn.

    The bar was dimly lit by the warm glow of low-hanging lights. The amber orbs barely cut through the haze of cigarette smoke and the hum of low conversations. Some nights, when older¡­ much older patrons visited Martin¡¯s place, it had this timeless feel to it. Like it was stuck somewhere between old-world elegance and modern decay. Dark wood lined the walls, the tables scattered haphazardly with drinks, while patrons, mostly vampires, sat in shadowed corners. Nights like these weren¡¯t meant for the young bloods of the city, but older, more powerful leeches. It was notable how much more civilized these vampires were. The calm, calculated observations in their eyes were a far cry from the frenzied, chaotic whims of the newly turned. They had tamed their urges, enough to blend into society much more seamlessly. I memorized every face. Future possibilities.

    I pushed the heavy door open, the cool air from outside clashing with the musky warmth of the room. My boots scuffed against the worn hardwood as I made my way toward the bar. I kept my hood up, trying my best to conceal my black eyes from anyone else besides Martin. I had to play it calm¡­ not draw too much attention¡­ yet. It was strange¡­ I truly felt like a monster hiding in the shadows, even in my human form. A part of the Primeval was leaking out, and I had to skulk around unlike any other time of this dreadful life.

    I hoped I¡¯d see Alex, and reconnect with her after the last time we spoke; when I came to her apartment during the daylight hours. I was curious if she¡¯d be as friendly as she was that day¡­ once she cooled off and dropped her hand from my throat after I broke into her home.

    Alex, the cannibalistic vampire, an Anthropophagus as some called her, was a predator in her own right. She fed on her own kind, a killer of killers like myself, though her methods were far more blood related. Her straight, crimson hair cascaded down her back like a river of scarlet silk, a stark contrast to the pale perfection of her skin. Her figure was fit with muscle, yet voluptuous, in all the ways that drew attention. Twisting tattoos curved and traced the lines of her back and arms; markings from a different part of her life¡­ when she was still human. Her body was a weapon in itself, designed to entice and ensnare. The way her tight, revealing attire clung to every curve left little to the imagination, always strategically suggestive without giving away too much. She knew exactly how to play with desire, flashing glimpses of smooth skin, the curve of her breasts, her long legs barely concealed beneath short skirts that made her look like a walking temptation.

    But it wasn¡¯t just her looks that made her dangerous. She was strong¡­ much stronger than any normal vampire; even stronger than those like Martin¡­ maybe even Charles. So far I hadn¡¯t seen her get tossed around by someone else yet.

    Young, reckless vampires were drawn to her, seduced by the promise of something unattainable. They would follow her, captivated by her beauty, their lust-filled minds craving the flesh they saw, unaware that they were stepping into the jaws of a beast. Beneath that alluring surface, behind the seductive smiles and lingering touches, was a hunger¡­ an insatiable darkness that was quenched by only one thing; the blood of vampires. It was a part of her, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed. By the time her prey realized what she truly was, it was already too late.

    She usually worked the bar here, her sharp eyes scanning the room as if she were always hunting. The dim lighting barely touched her pale skin, but it made the blood-red tint of her lips stand out like a warning.

    I glanced around, half-expecting her to materialize from the shadows, watching me with that knowing gaze of hers, the one that always seemed to see me as another asshole for her to kill one day. She wasn¡¯t there. I knew she wasn¡¯t, but still, I found myself searching for her, almost wanting to hear her sarcastic quip or feel the weight of her judgment.

    I had gone to her once before, after I¡¯d seen the vision of Patrick speaking with Peter. She had listened, but with a cold detachment, refusing to get involved, though her eyes had hinted at agreeing that it might be something, hoping it wasn¡¯t. She wasn¡¯t one to take sides against Martin, and she didn¡¯t think, at the time, he would be on board with making such an accusation. But she would be my alibi if I ever decided to reach out and grab Patrick by the throat. If it turned out he¡¯d twisted something inside Autumn, or if the power Peter had placed in that brush hadn¡¯t died with him, Alex would know. And when the time came, she¡¯d be able to tell everyone that I had tried to get help before it all went to hell; that I was waiting¡­ watching.

    But tonight, Alex was gone, and her absence gnawed at me like an itch I couldn¡¯t scratch. She knew the truth¡­ and somehow I started to view her as a friend that I could relate to, someone I considered more of an actual friend in the dark world. Even more so than Martin. From the outside looking in that was probably not so obvious, but it was true. At the heart of everything, Alex and I shared something very critical in common; we both hated what we had become, and our lives had been stolen from us.

    I saw Martin polishing the bar top as I approached, deep in concentration. His form and care told me this was the only pressing issue in his world at that moment. He tended the polished wood with the utmost care. With Peter dead, their problems had ended. Until now, that is.

    Martin had sharp, angular features that seemed both youthful and ancient at once. His dark hair combed back in a style of earlier times. There was an intensity to his slightly red eyes, not the vibrant crimson of a straight predator, but more a faint glow¡­ subtle, restrained, yet still unmistakably vampiric. He seemed to be flexing his power, keeping an aura of death around him to blend in with these old boys lingering around his club. His expression was usually calm and measured, but those eyes held centuries of weariness, the weight of secrets and experiences he rarely shared outside of the Chasse family. However, he had to keep up appearances. The vampire bar¡¯s owner, Martin, had to seem like a normal blood drinker. If any of these patrons figured out that he was harboring a family of monster hunters, who loved to slaughter their kind, it wouldn¡¯t end well. So, Martin seemed a lot rougher on this night, playing his role well.

    He looked up as I approached, his eyes widening, and for a split second, he froze. It was subtle, but I caught it¡­ the way his hand stopped mid-wipe, the slight parting of his lips. He didn¡¯t expect to see me. Not ever again after I had disappeared with Peter Grimwood. Carter must not have told him after I left his property. It had just been earlier that same night, but I knew they spoke often, keeping each other in the loop.

    "Sam." Martin¡¯s voice was soft, careful as if he wasn¡¯t sure it was really me. He set the rag down, leaning on the counter, his eyes scanning me like he was trying to make sense of something impossible. "I¡­ thought you might be dead¡­" He laughed for a moment to himself¡­ ¡°Should¡¯ve known better.¡±

    I sat down on one of the stools, shaking off the snow from my jacket. The warmth of the bar seeped into my skin, but it wasn¡¯t enough to chase away the chill in my bones. I met my black gaze into his bloodred eyes. "Yeah," I muttered, giving him a fake smile. "Seems I¡¯ve got a habit of coming back."

    Martin blinked, still staring at my shifted eyes in the middle of his bar. He glanced around at the unaware bystanders, worried one of them would see me. ¡°Sam¡­ you¡­¡± he trailed off. He didn¡¯t see any aggressiveness or anything else to worry about in my gaze, just the silent watchful eyes of the Primeval staring into him. I could tell it made him uneasy, but he found the resolve to keep talking. "You were in there¡­ that hell-plain" He stopped himself, lowering his voice, his gaze darting toward a couple of patrons nearby. "That place¡­ no one comes back from that, Sam. How are you here?" He looked me over again, head to toe, assessing me. His eyes settled on the reflection of himself in my obsidian eyes, unsure of anything about me. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    I wasn¡¯t but that¡¯s not what I was here for. I wanted nothing more than to dive into what I had just heard from Carter. That my brother, Seth had arrived in the city¡­ that Autumn¡­ she¡­ changed. Something with her wasn¡¯t right. I could probably get Martin to look into Patrick and the brush now, especially since I had already told Carter. But¡­ I didn¡¯t. I had one single pressing issue that outweighed the rest. Plus, Carter knew his daughter¡­ he¡¯d watch Autumn, and he¡¯d call for help if he needed it. From how he told me¡­ Autumn was happy. She was safe. It was just¡­ I don¡¯t know what it was.

    I shrugged, leaning my elbows on the bar. "Long story. Maybe I¡¯ll tell you over a drink." I nodded toward the bottle behind him. He didn¡¯t hesitate, grabbing it casually and pouring us both a glass. He topped the liquid with a light sprinkle of yellow dust from a small glass vial beneath the counter.

    He slid mine across the bar before taking a long, slow sip of his own. His eyes never left me, though, as if I¡¯d vanish if he blinked too long.

    "So," he said, setting his glass down, "what are you doing here? I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, it¡¯s good to see you¡­ better than good, considering¡­ well, everything. What happened with Peter? Where have you been?¡± His questions would have kept coming if he hadn¡¯t stopped himself. ¡°But¡­ I can tell that you didn¡¯t walk back from the dead just to have a drink with me, did you?"

    I sighed, the weight of the real reason settling back into my chest. "I need to find Charles."

    Martin¡¯s face changed, subtle but clear; his easygoing demeanor flickering with tension. He straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag before tossing it aside. "Charles? What¡¯s this about? He hasn¡¯t¡­ he hasn¡¯t done anything, has he?" There was genuine concern in his voice, which I didn¡¯t blame him for. Charles and Martin¡¯s relationship was growing in a good way ever since they reconnected when the immortals came for me. He looked like he was worried about what I might do to him.

    "I need to find him. I have places to go, and I need him to show me the way. I think he might be the only person within my reach who can help me.¡±

    Martin frowned, leaning on the bar again, his fingers tapping restlessly against the surface. "I haven¡¯t seen him in a while," he said slowly. "After we knew Peter was dead¡­ Shelta assured us,¡± he explained, ¡°I was under the impression that he departed back to the pits."

    That wasn¡¯t what I wanted to hear. I took a long drink, the burn of the whiskey doing little to calm my nerves. "No one¡¯s seen him? No one at all?"

    Martin shook his head, his frown deepening. "No. No one would. He doesn¡¯t show anyone his true self, except for his family. When he works for the Elders, he plays a part in keeping up appearances. Charles always has his reasons, though. When he disappears, it¡¯s usually to keep suspicions at bay and his family alive. But¡­ why now, Sam? Why are you so desperate to find him?"

    I hesitated, feeling the weight of the answer before I even spoke it. "Because¡­ I need a way inside the pits¡­¡± I left my statement hanging between us. Maybe he would know something I didn¡¯t¡­ someone I didn¡¯t that could help me.

    Martin¡¯s eyes darkened, and for the first time since I¡¯d walked in, I saw real fear in them. "The pits," he whispered, almost to himself. "You mean that?"  He had a dark look in his eyes.

    "Yeah," I answered calmly. ¡°I feel it¡­ a need to get there. It feels it¡­¡± I said, referring to the monster inside; he understood.

    Martin leaned back, running a hand through his dark hair. "Damn. You¡¯re not asking for much, are you?" He sighed, shaking his head with his sarcasm. Martin looked over his shoulder as if expecting Charles to appear from the shadows. "Look, Sam, I¡¯d help if I could. You know I would. But Charles¡­ he¡¯s a ghost when he wants to be. If he doesn¡¯t want to be found, there¡¯s not much anyone can do. If he¡¯s still down there, he might be for a while. He told me once that he usually has much to do down below before he can return to his freedom. When they call for him to hunt someone, it¡¯s usually a summons that lasts a while."

    I gritted my teeth, feeling them burn as frustration welled up inside me, hot and raw. Something was shifting. My teeth elongated, scraping against the inside of my mouth, a familiar ache signaling the early stages of my transformation. I held onto my human form, keeping the same size and shape, but my face¡­ it was contorting, twisting into something else. A reflection of the Primeval, that monstrous thing inside me, was leaking through. It wanted answers. It wanted to go beneath the caves. It wanted to kill.

    My gaze fixed on the bar, my pulse pounding harder with each second. My voice slipped out, deeper, darker, warping into something far from human; layered with a growling undercurrent of annihilation. "I don¡¯t have time for him to play hide and seek, Martin. If you know anything¡­ anything that could help, I need it now."

    Martin¡¯s reaction was immediate, but not in the way I¡¯d expected. He stared at me, his red eyes flickering with shock, and uncertainty. He wasn¡¯t sure what I was about to do. My face, my voice, and the twisted thing creeping out of me had clearly rattled him. He looked me up and down like he was weighing his next move, his expression darkening as he tried to gauge what I was capable of. A slow, heavy sigh escaped him, and he rubbed the back of his neck, stalling for time.

    "Step behind the bar," he said finally, motioning me closer, his voice edged with careful hesitation. We stepped around into the kitchen, out of sight from any onlooking customers. His words felt deliberately slow like he was measuring them out. "There¡¯s a rumor... something I didn¡¯t take seriously at first. But recently, a group of vampires has been stirring things up. They''re reckless, making too much noise, bringing the wrong kind of attention. If Charles is still down in the pits, they might send him to clean up the situation. Silence them before they reveal too much."

    My mind latched onto the words, a burning intensity flaring inside me. "Where?"

    Martin hesitated again, his lips curling into a brief, strained smile before it vanished. "Big property, out near St. Charles. Alex wants to head out there on her own too. She wants to get ahead of it before it turns into something ugly. She hasn¡¯t fed in a while¡­ and she needs to hunt. But if Charles is involved..." He trailed off, clearly weighing just how much uglier it could get.

    The information hit me like a pulse of electricity, triggering something deep, something primal. Inside, the Primeval¡­ Myoordrakien awoke. Its ancient, destructive heartbeat synced with mine, tightening every muscle, and pressurizing my blood. Dark ideas coiled at the edges of my mind like poison, whispers from the monster inside me, urging me on.

    If a scene was what would bring Charles to the surface¡­ a scene it would be. The thought of the monster being unleashed again, of the obliteration we could bring... it was thrilled. And this time, I couldn¡¯t deny it. I was too.

    After everything I had learned from Carter, I just wanted something else to focus on. I was using this opportunity to hide from the situation, to ignore what it made me feel. I decided to dive headfirst into chaos. I¡¯d deal with everything else later.

    I nodded, forcing the tension to drain from my face, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. "Thanks," I muttered, finishing my drink in a slow, controlled movement. I kept it casual, careful not to show the hunger that clawed just beneath the surface to anyone else. I kept my hood up, my face buried deep within. Martin didn¡¯t need to know what I was thinking, or what I was planning. The less he knew, the better.

    Martin hesitated, his eyes softening. "Sam¡­ are you okay? I mean, really? Coming back from where you¡¯ve been¡­¡± he looked sincerely concerned. ¡°With this,¡± he motioned towards my face.

    I cut him off with a wry smile. "Actually Martin¡­ for the first time in a long time¡­ in some way¡­ I feel free." I stepped back, pulling my coat tighter around me.

    It was true. Death had turned me loose. Autumn had cut ties. Part of me wanted to stop trying so hard to be human and just fall into the Primeval power that was inching out of the cage. To see what would happen when I stopped fighting it¡­ and became¡­ more.

    "If you hear anything from Charles, let me know. I¡¯ll owe you one." I wrote my new cell phone number down on a napkin and slid it across the bar to him.

    ¡°Have you spoken with Carter yet? Does he know you¡¯re back¡­ that you''re alright?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ I have. He knows I''m around,¡± I said, leaving it at that.

    He nodded slowly, watching me as I turned to leave. Just before I fully turned away, his voice stopped me. He was talking quietly to himself near the bar, trying not to let anyone else hear his words.

    "Sam."

    I turned, meeting his gaze.

    ¡°Why do you want to go down there?¡± Martin was beyond curious about my intentions. Why was I so murderously intent on finding my way beneath the city?

    I looked back at him with stone-cold, black eyes. ¡°I want to kill¡­¡±

    His eyes revealed a flicker of unease at my vague statement. ¡°Kill who?¡±

    ¡°The whole fucking place,¡± I said with no mercy or remorse. I turned from him and walked out, getting curious glances from the older, quieter creatures that lingered in Martin¡¯s establishment.

    I melded into the shadows outside the snow-covered building, my breath fogging the freezing air. The city around me felt dead, muted under the weight of the snow, but I didn¡¯t need the city. I needed what lay beneath it. The cold barely registered as I broke into a sprint, bounding from rooftops to tree cover, through alleyways, and sprinting down open expanses under the cover of night. My movements were fluid and soundless, save for the light crunch of ice and snow at each footfall. I was on the hunt.

    I would find those reckless vampires Martin had spoken of, and I¡¯d make enough of a mess to force Charles from the pits¡­ or whoever they sent to clean up the blood. It didn¡¯t matter. I was getting down there¡­ one way or another.

    But first, I needed more. More power, more control. The monster inside me stirred restlessly, just beneath the surface, gnawing at my edges like a hungry beast kept too long in its cage. I reached within myself, pushing deeper into that dark well where the Primeval, Myoordrakien resided. I could feel its hunger, its ancient thirst for destruction¡­ to end things. But I needed more than raw power. I needed precision. Martin gave me a rough area, but I¡¯d have to comb through it if I was to find these vampires. I didn¡¯t have that kind of time. I need direction.

    Abel had said I hadn¡¯t even begun to touch the full scope of what the monster could do. He was right. Myoordrakien¡¯s presence was a vast, untapped ocean inside me. I focused, letting my senses flare outward, trying to smell, feel, or see beyond what my human instincts could grasp. It was like trying to navigate in the dark, groping blindly for something¡­ anything in the chaos and nothingness. My human senses weren¡¯t worth a fuck, and my monstrous senses relied on the same function and structure of the same senses, only heightened to insane degrees.

    As I struggled against the ideas in my head, searching for something, the voice spoke in my mind again. Not Death¡­ Myoordrakien.

    ¡°LISTEN¡­¡±

    I felt it¡­ a flicker, a pulse deep in the cage. Something waiting, coiled tight, ready to spring.

    And then it erupted. A pulse shot from my mind in all directions like an explosion, expanding outwards, rippling through the air around me, unseen to the real world. It didn¡¯t just move outward into the city¡­it somehow felt. It pressed against the world, vibrating with monstrous energy, and as it spread further, a high-pitched frequency began ringing in my ears. It was like a sharp whistle, high and thin, but it wasn¡¯t painful. It was a beacon. My mind vibrated in the direction I needed to go, gaining in intensity as I found the right bearing.

    For a few seconds, the pulse faded, and the ringing with it. But I sent another out immediately as I felt this strange new sensation. There it was, stronger this time, feeling more natural with every pulse. I let the monster¡¯s power shoot from my mind in waves. Each pulse sharpened the frequency, narrowing down my target as I moved and changed location. I started tearing through the city.

    It was close now, maybe just a few streets away. Whoever they were, the ringing was drawing me closer, and with each pulse, I gained more precise course correction. The monster¡¯s power was homing in like a predator on prey.

    I sprinted faster, my eyes black and teeth jagged with the Primeval¡¯s influence; feeling the rhythm of my heartbeat align with the monstrous force that still beat inside the fallen body of the Primeval¡­ beyond in Death¡¯s dimension. I knew who I was hunting. We knew who we were hunting.

    Myoordrakien and I both knew our next step was to get to the pits. To do that, we needed Charles; to get Charles¡­ we needed to slay this pack of vampires like fucking dogs in the street. The high-pitched frequency reverberated in my skull, locking onto the vampires like a bloodhound on a scent. They had no idea what was coming for them; neither did Charles¡­ or the Elders¡­ or the pits, and whatever else called that place home.

 Chapter 66 - Pulse

    I moved through the frozen streets, silent and alone. The city was dead, nothing but ice and shadow under the dim streetlights. My boots kicked through the snow, but I didn¡¯t hear it, too caught up in the pulse that thrummed deep inside me.

    The vampires were dead. I¡¯d ripped them apart, one by one, and left their broken bodies in the frozen expanse where they had set up their little gathering. They¡¯d burn when the sun crept back up. Actually¡­ would they? A thought crept into my head. Would they still burn up in overcast conditions?

    I laughed to myself. It was a stupid thought, an absolutely real question though. But it was funny. Even if they didn¡¯t burn, it would still help my cause. Probably even more so than if they did. If they burned when the sun came up behind the grey overcast of the snowstorms, only the human servants of those vampires would remain. I lost count of how many I killed. But it would draw attention from below. It was a massacre that did not belong in the civilized world.

    For now, I was just testing my new ability. The one I¡¯d felt stirring inside me when I first went on the hunt. I wasn¡¯t hunting anyone¡­ I was practicing. Pushing. Seeing how far I could take it.

    I closed my eyes for a second and sent out a pulse¡­ a deep, resonating wave of energy that spread from me in every direction. It moved fast, faster than my heartbeat, faster than the breath in my lungs. I felt it expand out, beyond the streets, beyond the ice-slicked roads, racing past buildings and homes. It flicked against cars, bounced off walls, and threaded through the gaps of the city¡¯s skeleton like sonar, searching for the person I held in my mind.

    And there, like a beacon in the dark, it glimpsed him. A dull ring chirped in my mind like a tuning fork hitting its frequency.

    Carter.

    The pulse rippled outward, searching for him, running through the veins of the city, seeking out the familiar connection. It expanded exponentially, and then it hit¡­ another high-pitched vibration in my mind. If I moved my head, the relative direction changed. I bounded across the city, putting the direction directly in front of me. I kept the city in a constant blur as I investigated the distant resonation¡­ to make sure this worked how it felt.

    Carter was there in the city, somewhere down a few city blocks, inside a building. The sensation was undeniable. Once I got close¡­ I felt his heartbeat, steady but carrying the weight of stress. I observed him from afar, watching with my eyes, but also with the pulse I kept sending out as I focused on him. It was a new sense; a new way to not only find but to examine my target. I could see his form, his¡­ life force¡­ it was like an energy that beat within him; fed by the very heart beating in his chest. A bright heat roiled in his core, only visible to me through the pulse as it combined and overlayed my other senses. A dark part of me¡­ the Primeval¡­ could sense the strange energy that was new to me. It was not new to him. There was almost a reverent feeling in the Primeval as it looked upon Carter¡¯s life. Like it could sense it but stayed away from it. It was a deeper glance inside Myoordrakien, and it stirred my thoughts.

    In a very strange series of actions and thoughts, I discovered something¡­ something very interesting. The Primeval of Destruction¡­ of Doom and Annihilation¡­ was not exactly what it seemed.

    At first glance, taking it by name and power, he was a destroyer; cleaving flesh from bones and decimating living beings. That was his role. However, the way the monster within me looked upon Carter¡¯s life force¡­ with a quieted mind and calming demeanor, told a story. Something Death had told me once before popped into my mind. It was when he first showed me my Primeval in the fields; letting me catch a glimpse of him, in his prime. That dark image, backed by blinding white lightning. I remembered his words¡­

    ¡®Myoordrakien, the first Primeval, the embodiment of annihilation became my hand. He wanted things the way they were meant to be, as was his original purpose. To kill¡­ to destroy¡­ to prune the growth of the world and make way for the next wave of life. He saw his sibling''s revolt as a direct opposition to his work¡­ all the work to be done.¡¯

    He was meant to ¡°prune¡± the world in some way. From what I knew about gardening¡­ which obviously wasn¡¯t much¡­ not my forte, pruning didn¡¯t involve cutting down everything in the garden. No, you cut the dead weight. I could feel it at that moment. When Myoordrakien saw Carter, he did not want to take his life. It still had the same ominous wrath seeping through the cracks of the cage, but if it was unleashed¡­ it would avoid Carter¡­ I could feel it.

    Autumn.

    I wanted to find her, to test if this power could reach that far, feel her pulse, her life just as vividly. The moment I thought of her, the pulse surged from me like a shockwave, streaking through the icy streets, navigating the twists and turns like it knew the way by heart. It moved quickly, but not quickly enough for my racing thoughts. I felt the humming pain in the back of my head, turning and shifting my direction. I ripped across the landscape, making my way to her.

    When I found her, it hit differently. Her heartbeat fueling her lifeforce came back to me, faint and distant, but it was there. But I could feel her¡­ somewhere out there. Breathing. Alive. The pulse connected us, even if the connection between us had been severed in every other way. She would never know I was near, connecting to her in this unexplainable way, and I wasn¡¯t sure if that made it better or worse.

    I took a breath, sending out another pulse, this one stronger, more controlled. The ringing in my ears sharpened, and I felt it. A precise course correction, like I could see her path mapped out, her presence marking a line I could follow if I chose to.

    I got close, only taking about ten minutes. There she was, in the city, not at her parent''s house. Glancing around I could tell where I was heading. Her dorm¡­ the small apartments near the university. I felt someone else there through the wall. I focused my senses, taking in sounds, smells, and sights through the windows. All my senses, including my new pulse, worked together, tied into a dissecting aura that inspected every gritty, rough detail of the world¡­ and there he was. Patrick.

    They were together again, so close that I could see their life forces in the same room. I could see the energy inside them, bleeding out towards one another in some way. I couldn¡¯t be sure¡­ but it felt like a bond or connection of some kind.

    An involuntary huff came out of my throat, the Primeval irritated at even looking upon this scene. I was too, and it pained me to see her so happy¡­ so¡­ connected, with Patrick. She looked safe¡­ and it crushed me inside to admit it¡­ but she seemed happy. The life force inside her was almost pulling towards Patrick like her soul was reaching out to him. I couldn¡¯t deny that. I wondered if she had ever felt that for me¡­

    Part of me wanted to step inside and just beat the dog shit out of Patrick right in front of her. Not kill him, just fuck him up a little bit¡­ something to remember me by. But, even the Primeval knew we couldn¡¯t. The same ancient reverence towards life not meant to be pruned was there. It did not line up with what the Primeval was designed for¡­ what it was meant to do. I did feel that if I wanted to, I could just walk in there and kill him¡­ but I knew there¡¯d be consequences. I didn¡¯t have to ask¡­ I could feel it. Maybe I could just say something to them¡­

    But I wouldn¡¯t. This was about control, about honing the ability¡­ not spiraling.

    Seth.

    His presence came to me like a flash, a tiny blip of warmth in the frozen landscape, somewhere across the city. The pulse hit him, and for a second, I felt everything; even the rhythm of his heartbeat from this far away. I turned in the direction of the mental frequency ringing in my brain. I knew where he was¡­ and how to get to him. I walked slowly, calculating thoughts in my head.

    There were things I knew I had to do¡­ very soon; the pits¡­ the elders¡­ another Primeval possibly. And then, there were things I didn¡¯t have the time for right now. I couldn¡¯t allow Seth to remain here, creeping around, searching for answers. He could just as easily get sucked in deeper into this dark world he was already wading into. He couldn¡¯t get hurt because of what I was doing¡­ what I¡¯d have to do. I needed a plan.

    It was a slow process; pacing back alleys and vacant sidewalks as I thought¡­ weighing the pros and cons. A plan was forming¡­ slow¡­ but methodical. My feet started moving faster, aiming for him. I wasn¡¯t sure what I was going to do, but I had the rough borders of an idea. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was a good idea¡­ but life goes on. My world had crept into his because of a stupid decision I made. Why the fuck did I put down Carter¡¯s address? Looking back¡­ I could have put anywhere¡­ the McDonalds down the road from where I stood would have worked. The lady at the airport would have never known.

    I crouched in the shadows, the frigid air biting at my skin, even through the double layers of my hoody and jacket. The hotel across the street looked like it belonged in a slasher film; a run-down relic of another time, the flickering neon sign casting a sickly glow on the snow-covered pavement. But I barely noticed any of that. My focus was on him¡­ Seth.

    The pulse from before had found him easily enough, but now that I was here, just a few feet away from his room, I didn¡¯t know what to do next. I could sense everything inside that room: the mess he lived in, the stale air thick with neglect, the tension in his body even as he lay there unconscious. He was unaware of the storm that was just outside his door.

    How the hell am I supposed to tell him? The thought gnawed at me, more painful than any physical wound I¡¯d ever taken. How could I even begin to explain that I was still alive? I had been alive all this time, and never told him. We were twins¡­ we grew up together, best friends¡­ never apart. How would he react, not just to me being alive¡­ but changed? A monster. Something I couldn¡¯t just easily explain away.

    The pulse I had sent out earlier, the one that had guided me through the city to Seth, echoed in the back of my mind like a reminder of what I was now¡­ what I had become. The power, the raw force inside me, was dangerous. It had already cost me everything. My family. Autumn. My humanity. And now, here I was, about to drag Seth into that same mess.

    I shifted, eyes locked on the hotel window. Do I tell him everything? No, I couldn¡¯t. The truth¡­ the full truth¡­ was too much. If I told him about Myoordrakien, about the Primeval lurking in my soul, clawing for control¡­ I don¡¯t know if that would make things better. He¡¯d never trust me again if I told him how it reached for control the way it did; probably be afraid it would unleash itself on all our family back home¡­ his kids. Hell, I barely trusted myself in certain situations, although it was getting better with the truths I had learned. The monster inside me was still a mystery in ways, a force I was only beginning to understand. How could I ask Seth to trust me when I didn¡¯t know if I could hold it back? If it would one day be at the wheel permanently; if I was locked in that cage, inside the void of my mind.

    But... I needed Seth to get out of this city. I could feel the weight of the storm gathering on the horizon, a sense of something dark and inevitable. Charles was somewhere out there, and the pits beneath the city were calling to me, their depths filled with things I hadn¡¯t even begun to face. If Seth stayed, he¡¯d be caught up in all of it. And I couldn¡¯t protect him. Not with everything else going on. Not with what I had to become¡­ more of the Primeval.

    Another pulse of power flared out from me. It swept over the hotel, through the walls, and into Seth¡¯s room again. I could feel him stir, his heartbeat quickening for a second, like he¡¯d sensed something was wrong. He wasn¡¯t asleep, not fully. Maybe he felt it too¡­ that tension, that pull, that sense of something lurking just out of sight. Me. His brother, the ghost he didn¡¯t even know still existed.

    I clenched my fists, the bones of my hands creaking under the pressure. I can¡¯t let him see me like this. Not yet. My face still bore the marks of the transformation, subtle though they were. My voice, when it changed, was something else entirely; a twisted amalgamation of human and monster. How could I even look Seth in the eyes and tell him, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m still alive... and by the way, I¡¯m also something out of your worst nightmares now¡±?

    The thought twisted in my gut, a sick feeling that made me want to turn around, disappear into the shadows, and never come back. But I couldn¡¯t. Seth needed to know something. He needed to trust me enough to leave the city, to go home and stop this wild fucking goose chase. Just long enough for me to do what I had to do in the pits. After it was all over¡­ I¡¯d have time to explain more to him.

    My breath clouded in front of me, the cold air biting at my face as I considered the impossible. What do I even say?

    I could walk up to his door, knock, and¡­ what? Start with, ¡°Hey, surprise, I¡¯m not dead!¡±? No. That wasn¡¯t going to work. I had to play this smart, had to give him just enough to make him listen. But what if he didn¡¯t? What if he opened the door and slammed it in my face, convinced that the man standing there wasn¡¯t his brother? I was dead after all.

    I could feel the Primeval stirring inside me again, its ancient, malevolent presence pressing against my mind. It wanted me to go in there, to grab Seth by the throat if I had to, to make him understand.

    Seth was getting closer to something dangerous, something that would destroy him if he stayed and I wasn¡¯t here to soften the blow¡­ to protect him. I could feel it, like a predator hiding in the bushes. I had to get him out of here before it hit.

    I sent out another pulse, this time more refined, more deliberate. The wave of power expanded through the hotel again, giving me a clearer picture of the chaos inside Seth¡¯s room. The trash, the food boxes, the mess¡­ it was all a reflection of what he was feeling. He was lost, unsure of his place in this world. Hanging onto hope that he thought had died long ago. Just like me. Where was his wife¡­ his kids? How long had he been away from them while he chased this madness?

    Damn it. I was going in.

    But not tonight. Tonight, I would watch, wait, and plan. The monster inside me, the thing that had taken over my life, could wait just a little longer.

    I had to make sure that when I did show myself to Seth, it wouldn¡¯t be the monster he saw first. It had to be me.

    I waited in the freezing cold, hidden in the shadows across from the dingy hotel. The night stretched long and silent into the early morning, street lamps casting an orange glow over the icy streets. I had been waiting for hours, hands clenched and unclenched at my sides, knuckles pale beneath the strained nervousness. I needed control. Control.

    Inside me, the Primeval stirred. The monster, always lurking beneath the surface, its claws scratching at the edges of my mind. It wanted me to just move, to get this over with. It didn¡¯t like waiting¡­ not when we had things to do.

    I closed my eyes, drawing in deep breaths of the frigid air, feeling the cold work its way into my lungs. Slowly, I coaxed the monster back, whispering into the dark corners of my mind, forcing it down, down into the depths where it belonged. My muscles ached from the effort, my skin burning from the constant battle to hold onto myself. I had to be human. I had to be Sam when I saw him, not a halfway version of the monster.

    I felt my face begin to return as the minutes crawled by, my eyes softening from the dark, predatory voids they had become, my features settling back into something that resembled the man I used to be. The monster fought me, digging its claws deeper, but I pushed back harder, feeling its presence fade until it was nothing more than a low hum in the back of my mind. For now, it was caged. It was amiable enough to allow me this time, knowing how important this was to me. It had a sense of something¡­ like it knew once this was done, we¡¯d start our killing spree. So it retreated to allow me more humanity.

    As the first rays of sunlight began to creep over the horizon, I stood, stretching my stiff limbs. The tension in my body began to ebb, my heartbeat slowing to something more normal. I scanned the hotel, watching the light glint off the dirty windows, waiting for any sign of Seth. I didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    The side door creaked open, and there he was; Seth, my brother, stepping out into the pale morning light. He was just as I remembered him¡­ my mirror image. Used to I¡¯d say he was the more muscular one, but I had him beat these days. He looked tired and disheveled, his clothes rumpled as if he had slept in them. His hair was a mess, dark circles under his eyes telling a story I hadn¡¯t been around to witness. Guilt twisted in my gut. How long had he been like this? How long had he been trying to survive, thinking I was dead; only now chasing an identity thief¡­ or a ghost?

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    He glanced around the street, then shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and made his way toward the corner diner. Breakfast. He was getting breakfast. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him disappear around the corner.

    This is it. I had to move. I crossed the street, silent, careful not to draw any attention. The hotel side door hung slightly crooked, cheap, and easy to break in. I didn¡¯t even need to try. My hands found the edge of the door, nudging it open just enough to slip inside. This place was straight-up garbage. It made me think he¡¯d been staying in the city even longer than I realized if this was the kind of place he¡¯d settled for.

    The hallway was dim, the flickering light overhead casting intermittent shadows along the walls. The smell of stale cigarettes and mildew filled the air. It was a dump; just like I had sensed from outside. I moved quickly, my boots silent on the worn carpet as I made my way to Seth¡¯s room. Room 208; I mentally mapped it as I observed the place with my pulse sense.

    It was just as I¡¯d imagined. A mess. Clothes were piled in heaps across the floor, mixed with takeout containers, half-eaten meals, and crumpled papers. The bed was unmade, the sheets tangled. It smelled of desperation and solitude. A sinking feeling settled into my chest as I stood there, taking it all in. This was what he had been reduced to, what he had been living in. Because of me.

    I couldn¡¯t think about that now. There wasn¡¯t time. He¡¯d be back soon, and I needed to be ready. I found a spot in the shadows near the corner of the room, out of sight from the door but close enough to move if I had to. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I crouched there, waiting.

    The monster inside me growled, pushing at the bars of its cage, reminding me that I didn¡¯t belong here¡­ that I wasn¡¯t human anymore. But I shut it out, focusing on the task at hand. I couldn¡¯t afford to let Seth see me like that, not after all this time. Not yet.

    I slowed my breathing, calming myself, trying to focus on the sound of the city waking up outside. Cars honking in the distance, footsteps on the sidewalk. Somewhere, a dog barked. It all felt so normal. So human. But nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this felt right. I was lurking in my own brother¡¯s room, waiting for him like a serial killer.

    He won¡¯t understand. The thought crept into my mind, unbidden. How could he? What would I even say to him? That I had come back from the dead? That I had been changed into something¡­ other? And that I was here to drag him out of this life before it swallowed him whole?

    I wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d even listen. He¡¯d probably think I was some twisted version of his brother¡­ if he believed I was his brother at all. And what if I couldn¡¯t control the monster once I was face to face with him? What if it took over? What if I became the danger he needed saving from?

    I clenched my fists as I tried to shake off the fear gnawing at me. I had to try. I couldn¡¯t leave Seth here, not like this. Not when there was still a chance to save him from what I was about to unleash in this city.

    The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Seth was coming back. I felt the familiar pulse in my mind, scanning the hotel, confirming what I already knew. The mental vibrations peaked louder as the footsteps got closer. He was closing in on his room. He was alone.

    I steeled myself, ready for the confrontation. This was going to change everything.

    Seth stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him with a thud that echoed louder than it should have. His steps were slow, and deliberate, like he was already weighed down by the mess that surrounded him. Junk cluttered the small, dingy room: takeout containers, dirty clothes, and scattered belongings that looked like they hadn¡¯t been touched in days. I watched from the shadows, my heart pounding in my chest. He moved like a man defeated, the Seth I remembered a shadow of the man I now saw. He had been doing this for too long. Searching for¡­ something.

    He bent down, grabbing a few items off the floor, but I could tell he wasn¡¯t really paying attention to what he was doing. Something in the room had changed, and he felt it. I could see the moment his body tensed, the moment he became aware of the presence that had been lurking, unseen.

    He didn¡¯t turn around. He didn¡¯t call out. Instead, his hand drifted slowly to the bedside table. His fingers slid into the drawer, rummaging through the mess inside until they wrapped around the cold metal of a gun. His movements were methodical, and controlled, even though I could see the tremor in his fingers. He pulled the gun free, the barrel aimed at the shadows where I stood.

    "I don¡¯t know who you are," Seth said, his voice low, rough with a mixture of fear and anger, "but you better show yourself¡­ and get the fuck out of my room!"

    This was it. I could either stay hidden or reveal myself. Either way, there was no going back from this moment.

    I hesitated before stepping forward, a slow, deliberate movement as I emerged from the shadows that had cloaked me. My body felt heavy with the weight of everything I had to do¡­ to say, everything I hadn¡¯t revealed. The second my form came into the dim light of the room, Seth¡¯s eyes snapped to me, his gaze sharp and piercing as it cut through the disbelief. The gun he held remained firmly pointed in my direction, but his grip wavered, the tension in his hands loosening as his fingers shook, his knuckles pale from the strain.

    I saw the way his face contorted, his brow furrowing as confusion twisted across his features, the lines of disbelief deepening. It was a look that cut through me, deeper than any wound. He was seeing me¡­ not just a stranger, but me. His mind was not prepared.

    "Sam?" his voice laced with shock and confusion.

    The sound of my name, spoken aloud by him, felt like a punch to the gut. It echoed in the room, filled with more pain than I was prepared for. My name, but wrapped in disbelief, drenched in a sense of the impossible. He couldn¡¯t believe it, and I could feel it in the way his voice cracked, the way his eyes darted between my face, and the impossible reality of me standing there.

    I fought the urge to look away, to retreat into the darkness that had sheltered me. I had to own up to my actions now¡­ to explain why I had left¡­ why I had let him think I was dead. My whole body wanted to run, to avoid the confrontation I had been dreading for so long. But I couldn¡¯t hide from this¡­ not anymore. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat threatening to tear open the fragile calm I was trying to maintain.

    "Seth," I breathed out, barely louder than a whisper. Saying his name felt like admitting to everything. That I was here. That I was still alive. That I was different.

    His reaction was immediate like the ground beneath him had been pulled away. The gun he had been holding so tightly faltered again, the tip of the silencer dipping just enough to show the inner conflict raging in his mind. His eyes bore into me, desperate and searching for something¡­ anything that would make this all make sense. He wanted to believe it, but the pieces didn¡¯t fit. And his eyes¡­ they held suspicions.

    "You¡¯re dead," he muttered, his voice shaking. The cracks in his disbelief were deepening, but still, he held on to the only thing that made sense to him: I was gone. I had been gone for years, and now here I was, standing before him like nothing had changed. But everything had changed.

    The air between us felt heavy, thick with all the years of separation, the lost time that had built an unscalable wall between the brothers we had been and the people we were now. I could see it in his eyes¡­ he was staring at a ghost. And, in a way, I was a ghost. A ghost of the brother he knew, of the person I used to be before all of this.

    "I didn¡¯t die," I said, forcing the words out, even though my throat felt tight like it could close off at any second. "Not the way you thought I did."

    It was hard to say that. Hard to explain something I barely understood myself. But how could I tell him? How could I make him understand the nightmare I had been living through all these years when I could hardly explain it to myself? My mind was swirling, torn between the truth I owed him and the need to protect him from it. I couldn¡¯t give him everything. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

    Seth¡¯s grip on the gun tightened again, not from intent to fire but from the sheer impossibility of the situation he was trying to comprehend. He stepped closer, his face hardening with every breath, trying to fight the disbelief, trying to will it away. "You¡¯re one of them¡­ aren¡¯t you?"

    ¡°One of who?¡± I asked, slightly worried about what he meant. His voice held a trace of knowledge¡­ knowledge about something¡­ unnatural.

    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb ass hole. This is silver¡­ and I¡¯ll put a fucking hole through your head!¡±

    Silver¡­ why would he have silver bullets? Did he¡­ did he know¡­ something?

    ¡°What exactly do you think I am?¡± I was intrigued¡­ yet terrified. If he knew something about the real world, how had he gained that knowledge¡­ what did that mean? Did something happen back home¡­ to someone? Was his being in the city more than just a search for an identity thief?

    ¡°Don¡¯t play stupid! I know about your kind¡­ shapeshifter!¡± Seth spat the name at me like it was a weapon in itself.

    ¡°Shapeshifter?¡± I asked him, actually intrigued. ¡°How do you know about anything like that, or silver?¡± Honestly, I didn¡¯t know much about them except for a small passage from one of the Chasse bestiaries. They were elusive and hard to track down. The Chasse family ancestors only had a brief section on them since they could turn a corner and become someone else. They were hard to kill, and even harder to track or find.

    Then Seth moved.

    Seth moved faster than I expected, his body a blur of motion. When his feet left the ground, leaping over the chair covered with clothes, I saw the fury burning in his eyes. His gun pointed straight at my face, but I didn¡¯t flinch. I couldn¡¯t. Not when I knew what he needed to do. He grabbed a knife from the desk in a single, fluid motion as he charged toward me. There was no stopping him, no talking him down from the tidal wave of anger he felt. So, I let him come.

    The air felt thick, suffocating almost, as he reached me in the corner of the room. The cold edge of the blade slid into my chest with a sickening precision, a perfect strike, followed by the press of the silencer''s barrel against my torso. Then came the muffled blasts; one, two, three¡­ the whole clip emptied into me. Each shot echoed in my skull, tearing through flesh and bone, and setting my nerves ablaze. But I didn¡¯t fall.

    ¡°What the fuck¡­¡± Seth trailed off, seeing my cold stare bore into him.

    He pulled the blade out and stabbed again¡­ and again¡­ and again. He tried to slaughter me, throwing every ounce of strength at me to put me in the ground, permanently. I let him. I let him stab me over and over again, his rage pouring out like poison. I stood there, absorbing the violence, because I knew¡­ I could take it. And he¡­ he needed this. He needed to let it out. Seeing my face, even though he thought it was worn by a shapeshifter, had hurt him in a way. I don¡¯t think he expected to see his twin brother''s face staring at him right after breakfast.

    Once he lost his strength, and his arms wavered, shaking from so much exertion. "Die," he hissed between ragged breaths. "Why won''t you just fucking die?"

    I was a bloody mess, filled with gashes and holes in the corner of his room. He pulled off of me, stumbling backward, breath ragged and heavy. He tripped over his feet, falling back and hitting the side of the bed. He lay there on his back completely vulnerable. I just eased down, and sat on the floor, trying to show him I was no threat.

    ¡°Seth¡­¡± I spoke calmly, trying to ease the words towards him like he was a scared cat. ¡°It¡¯s me. For real¡­ It¡¯s Sam.¡±

    My body began healing, closing wounds, and stopping the blood loss. The bullets he shot into me were all spit out, falling to the ground beneath us with light clinks. His blade was still lodged in my chest near my left shoulder. I slowly pulled it out and set it on the ground. I pushed it towards him, sliding the obvious silver blade back into his reach. Where did he get it?

    I laughed to myself at a memory that popped into my head. He looked up at me with a strange expression.

    ¡°You know what this reminds me of¡­ one time when we were wrestling. I think it started as us just joking around, we were just wrestling, but then it went on too long. We got mad at each other, and we wore ourselves out once it got serious and we started fighting.¡± I laughed again. ¡°Then as you were getting up, you reared back and tried to kick me, but you pushed yourself forward and rammed your head into that door frame.¡± I shook my head, laughing. ¡°Solid¡­¡± he cut me off.

    ¡°Solid as a rock¡­¡± his memory connected to mine. His eyes blank as he connected the dots.

    He remembered what I was talking about. It was just a funny story, something so small, but so personal that no one else could have known it. We joked about it every so often. I would tell him he was a weak bitch and couldn¡¯t even budge me when I was worn out and tired. He was mad, especially after he hit his head, he was pissed. He stormed off and we didn¡¯t talk for a day or two, avoiding each other in my parent''s house until we just laughed about it, returning to our normal ways. He remembered.

    "That night," I began, my voice barely holding together, "when I disappeared¡­ something happened to me. Something¡­" I paused, searching for words, but they slipped away as fast as I could grab hold of them. "Something came for me that night¡­ it took me¡­ changed me."

    Seth¡¯s eyes narrowed. His face was unreadable now, and the gun was sitting on the ground beside him. He wasn¡¯t pointing it at me anymore, but it sat there, between us, like a barrier. His mind was reeling, I could tell; turning over the idea, rejecting it, trying to find the cracks in the story, the lies I wasn¡¯t telling him.

    "Changed?" he repeated, disbelief thick in his tone. "What the hell does that mean? You just¡­ vanished¡­¡± He shook his head as the truth stared him straight in the face. ¡°How does this silver not work on you?¡±

    "I¡¯m different," I said quickly, the panic rising in my chest. I had to keep it together, had to keep my voice calm, and measured. I couldn¡¯t lose him now¡­ not when I was this close. "It doesn¡¯t make sense, Seth. But it¡¯s the truth. I was¡­" My voice caught. I was about to tell him more than I should. More than he could handle. But I couldn¡¯t stop the words now. "I was transformed. Into something¡­ something else. I¡¯m not like any of these other creatures and monsters that exist in this world."

    Seth¡¯s face twisted again, that same look of confusion mixed with a growing sense of horror. "Something else? What the fuck¡­¡± he had some kind of internal struggle going on. What he was seeing, versus what he thought he knew wasn¡¯t making sense.

    I closed my eyes for a second, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the storm inside me. He wasn¡¯t ready for the full truth. Not yet. But I had to give him something. Just enough to make him trust me.

    ¡°Why did you think I was a shapeshifter? How do you even know anything like that?¡± I asked, my voice low, the tension between us thickening as I watched his every action.

    Seth¡¯s gaze flicked to the floor, hesitation creeping into his expression as if he was piecing everything together himself; still grappling with the impossibility of what stood in front of him. His face was tight, and calculating, and I could see he was weighing his words carefully. It was not because he didn¡¯t want to tell me, but because he wasn¡¯t sure how much of what he believed was even real anymore.

    ¡°We met someone¡­ He told us things¡­ dark things,¡± Seth began, his voice quiet, but with an undercurrent of dread that grew stronger with every word. ¡°He showed us power we didn¡¯t even think could exist, things that didn¡¯t make sense. And he said¡­¡± He trailed off, rubbing his temples as if trying to erase the memory. ¡°He said you were murdered by shapeshifters¡­ this family. That they were after you. There¡¯s a family in town, the Chasses. He told us they¡¯re tied into all of this, that they¡¯re messed up, dangerous.¡± His voice wavered, a flicker of uncertainty cutting through his anger. ¡°We believed what he could do¡­ he showed us. We just didn¡¯t know anything about these people here in St. Louis, so we never did anything about it. But then¡­¡±

    He looked away, shaking his head like he was trying to push back the contradictions. Something about it wasn¡¯t lining up for him, and the unease was spreading across his face like a shadow.

    ¡°Then what?¡± I pressed, keeping my tone steady despite the knot tightening in my chest.

    ¡°Then I got pulled into a government office. Out of nowhere.¡± His words picked up pace, the confusion evident as he tried to make sense of it. ¡°I was just trying to book flights for the family¡­ a vacation, nothing big. But they flagged my passport. Said I flew out of the country but never returned. They kept asking me how the hell I got back.¡± His voice grew sharper, more frantic, and his eyes met mine, wide and bewildered. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what the fuck they were talking about. But then they told me about the ticket, the one that left the country¡­ It was linked to the Chasses. Their address was used.¡±

    I kept my face impassive, but inside, my mind was racing. Pieces of a puzzle, warped and distorted, were being thrown at me, and I could feel the weight of something far darker looming behind it all. He had fragments, twisted half-truths, and the wrong names pinned to the right horrors.

    ¡°Who are you talking about?¡± I asked, my voice tightening as I pushed for more. ¡°Who told you all this?¡±

    Seth swallowed hard, looking wary, his exhaustion more visible now, etched into his face. He hesitated like he knew what he was about to say would unravel everything he¡¯d thought was real.

    ¡°Peter¡­¡± His voice was a whisper, hesitant. ¡°His name was Peter.¡±

    The second the name left his lips, a chill ran down my spine. I stood up and stepped forward, cutting him off, the tension snapping in the room like a live wire.

    ¡°Grimwood?¡± The name came out sharp, and Seth¡¯s eyes shot to mine, startled by the edge in my voice and my sudden movements.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, his face twisting in confusion. ¡°We were supposed to keep him a secret. He was working against the Chasse family¡­ and some others. Said they destroyed his entire family, killed everyone he loved.¡± He paused, rubbing his forehead, as if the weight of the knowledge was pressing down on him. ¡°He taught us how to fight against monsters. Silver, rituals¡­ even gave us books, encyclopedias on creatures¡­ everything we¡¯d need to take them down if they ever showed up.¡±

    His voice faltered, and he looked at me like the world had shifted beneath his feet. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a lot.¡±

    He had no idea. I felt something cold and bitter rising inside me, a tension that coiled tighter with every word. This wasn¡¯t just some misguided attempt at revenge¡­ Peter Grimwood had poisoned them. This was what he spoke about to me. He had been to my home. He had touched them¡­ even Caydee. He had corrupted them with lies¡­ deceptions. If he couldn¡¯t kill me, he could turn my family and get them to kill each other. He was trying to wipe out the two most important groups of people to me. The most damage he could inflict on me was through others¡­ and he had tried to take it all.

    ¡°Peter Grimwood is a fucking liar,¡± I spat, my words harsh, cutting through the air between us like a blade. My pulse quickened, a nervous edge creeping into my thoughts, something darker gnawing at the corners of my mind. ¡°Whatever he told you, whatever he made you believe¡­ he¡¯s not the good guy.¡±

    Seth stared at me, his confusion deepening, his voice quieter now. ¡°You know him?¡±

    I nodded, my face hard. ¡°Yeah. Knew him,¡± I corrected. The truth hung heavy between us. ¡°I killed him.¡±

    Seth¡¯s eyes widened, his entire body stiffening as if I had just told him the sky had turned black. ¡°Wait¡­ what?¡± His voice cracked, disbelief flooding his features. ¡°Peter¡¯s dead? That doesn¡¯t make any sense. He said¡­ he told us he couldn¡¯t die. That he¡¯d always come back.¡± His voice was shaky now, the pieces of his reality crumbling away. ¡°He said he was connected to something bigger¡­ some kind of¡­ greater power.¡±

    A grim smile twisted my lips. I met his gaze, cold and unyielding. ¡°Everyone thinks that¡­ until they meet me.¡±

    The silence after my words felt suffocating, the weight of what I¡¯d just revealed pressing down on us both. I watched Seth¡¯s face as he processed the truth, the horror dawning on him like a slow, creeping shadow. Grimwood¡¯s lies, his manipulations; they were all unraveling now, the dots connecting in the darkest way possible.

    We sat in silence for a moment, Seth realizing that if what I was saying was true, then everything he thought he was doing was wrong. It took a while for him to register more words. He looked back and forth between me, the gun, and the ground. I never moved, I just allowed him time to think. I needed him to see that I was not something that could be killed by what he thought he knew as a fact. That silver did not affect me as it should a shapeshifter. He could have killed twenty shapeshifters with the amount of silver he pumped me full of between the bullets and knife thrusts.

    I was looking down when he spoke, so I wasn¡¯t ready for it. ¡°Is it really you¡­ Sam?¡±

    I looked up slowly, connecting my eyes with my brother. My twin brother. ¡°Yeah¡­ it''s me.¡±

    Seth stood up, closing the distance between us quickly. He didn¡¯t need anything else¡­ he could feel it. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. I hugged him back. He knew it was true. He believed me. He wasn¡¯t mad¡­ once he knew it was me¡­ he was happy. We had a lot to talk about.

 Chapter 67 - Temporary Goodbye

    The diner buzzed softly with the hum of early morning conversation, the occasional clink of plates and silverware breaking the steady rhythm of the place. It wasn¡¯t crowded, but the few people seated at tables and the counter gave the place a crowd to blend in with. The smell of coffee and grease clung to the air, the warmth of it seeping into the cold draft from outside. It had been hours since we first sat down, just two brothers at a corner booth, but it felt like an entire lifetime had passed in the time it took to drink a few cups of coffee¡­ and to catch up. It was a very emotional and confusing few hours. Hints of apprehension lingered in the first hour or so. But I saw it the moment he truly believed. He knew it was me¡­ his brother.

    Seth sat across from me, his hands cradling his mug, eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the walls of the diner. I watched him, his brow furrowed with the weight of everything I¡¯d just laid on him. It was a lot. I knew that. Hell, even saying it out loud felt surreal. And yet, here we were¡­ living in the moment I had feared for so long.

    I had told him about the attack, about waking up in the woods so far from home, then the killings. I left out the transformation, Death, and the Primeval for the time being, just testing the waters as I told him more. I didn¡¯t want to overload him all at once. I told him how Peter was a fucking psychopath, the Chasse family were good people who fought to kill the fucked up monsters of this world. I told Seth about how I¡¯d fallen in with them. How they gave me a place to belong again¡­ after so much time alone¡­ thinking my life was over, bound to darkness alone. I was honest about Autumn, though I felt his eyes judging me, his long breaths and sighs as the information came made me think he was unsure how to feel about me getting so close to her while my wife sat at home with another man.

    We got more into the weeds of my ¡°curse¡± as I described it. I talked about my physical strength, speed, and the fact that silver and any other weapon were no real danger to me. That¡¯s why his bullets and knife did nothing to keep me down¡­ I was different. The fact that he knew very little of the supernatural world helped him accept this easier than the Chasse family. It was hard to explain while keeping so much information from him. I almost made myself out to be just some kind of dark superhuman, and not a monstrosity.

    He was taking it better than I expected. No anger, no storming out, no calling me insane and leaving me to the ruins of whatever hope I thought I had. Peter Grimwood¡¯s lies actually helped get the conversation started, in a way. It eased Seth into the supernatural world, making this easier. But he was still trying to wrap his head around it. How I had been around, doing things in this world the whole time since they thought I died. I could see it on his face; the last few years had been reset in his mind, and he was struggling to adjust to the fact that I was here. He could talk to me again.

    "It¡¯s just¡­ a lot to process," Seth finally muttered, glancing up at me. His blue eyes, eyes that had once felt so familiar to me, now held a mixture of disbelief and deep concern. He was beyond happy to see me, to know I was still walking the world, but the information I gave him was¡­ unsettling. We hadn¡¯t even gotten to the good stuff yet.

    "So much has happened back home. You¡¯ve been out here.. all this time, in St. Louis?"

    I shook my head, ¡°No. Not the whole time. I bounced around a lot in the early days. Never staying in one place long enough. Usually, once I made a kill, I¡¯d head somewhere new. When I found this city¡­ it just felt right. There was so much¡­ evil here. Things I could unleash it on. I didn¡¯t have to keep moving around as long as I was careful.¡±

    ¡°You could have come back¡­¡± he said, sure that it would have worked out. ¡°We could have figured something out. Helped you¡­¡±

    I opened my mouth to answer, but the words caught in my throat. I didn¡¯t know how to explain the reality of what my life had been¡­ the battles, the transformations, the sheer hell of it. How could I tell him that I hadn¡¯t wanted him or anyone else to see what I had become? That I didn¡¯t want to drag my family into this nightmare? How could I explain that I hadn¡¯t just been surviving? I had been fighting, every single day, just to keep myself together. Just to not fall apart under the weight of the monster that lived inside me.

    "I wanted to¡­ I tried too" I said eventually, my voice quieter than I intended. I was trying to keep it steady. "But it wasn¡¯t that simple. I wasn¡¯t¡­ ready. I wasn¡¯t safe to be around. When I tried to come to you guys¡­ right after it happened, I could feel this thing clawing to get out. It felt like it would hurt you guys; I would hurt you guys. Then when I came back about a year later, I saw Vicky with Ben. Then I saw Caydee¡­ it messed me up, man.¡± I had to stop talking. I remembered the book, the memories of her birth saved into the little photo album. I remembered the note Vicky had written herself for when Caydee got older. The emotions bubbled up, but I fought them away. ¡°I can''t tell you how hard it was to know she existed¡­ while I existed, with this thing inside me. I felt like the best way to protect her, and all you guys, from me¡­ and this fucked up world¡­ was to stay away. None of you would ever have to know what was out there¡­ what I¡¯d become¡­"

    Seth¡¯s frown deepened, and he set his mug down, leaning forward, his voice lower, more insistent. "But then you had to be alone¡­¡± he shook his head, unable to accept that I had been out here like this for so long.

    I knew what he was thinking. I reversed the roles in my head. If I was sitting in his spot, and he in mine¡­ it would have hurt to know he had to endure all this. I wouldn¡¯t understand.

    ¡°You¡¯re my brother, Sam. You should have come to me. I would¡¯ve helped you. I could¡¯ve helped you."

    I shook my head calmly. If only that were true. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. He didn¡¯t understand, not fully. "It wasn¡¯t just about needing help, Seth. I didn¡¯t want to put you in danger. What I¡¯ve become¡­ it¡¯s not something you can just fix. I couldn¡¯t risk coming back until I knew I could control it." I breathed, ¡°If I''m being honest¡­ that time really hasn¡¯t come yet. I¡¯m only just now finding answers to the questions I¡¯ve had for so long. Just now gaining more control.¡±

    "Control what, though? You keep saying you¡¯ve changed, you¡¯ve told me about the strength, the toughness, and that you¡¯ve killed... but¡­ what the hell does that even mean? I can tell¡­ you¡¯re not telling me something." Seth¡¯s eyes searched mine as if he were trying to find the answers buried somewhere in the silence between us. "I mean, you look like¡­ well, you. But I know that¡¯s not the whole truth."

    I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with the weight of what I was keeping from him. I had told him some of the story, enough to give him a sense of what had happened. The attack. The transformation. The years I had spent learning how to live with this thing that lurked inside me, waiting for moments of weakness to take control. But I hadn¡¯t told him the full extent of it¡­ the dark, monstrous side of me that was still there, even now gripping the bars of its cage¡­ staring at my brother from within my mind.

    Seth leaned back in his seat, his eyes still on me. He took a breather, letting some of the stress of the specifics fall off for a moment. He shook his head slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. "I still can¡¯t believe you¡¯re sitting here, man. It¡¯s just¡­" He paused, exhaling a sharp breath. "For so long, I thought you were gone. We all did. We buried you, we¡­" His voice wavered, and he stopped, pressing his lips together tightly. ¡°We moved on.¡±

    I felt a surge of guilt, hot and sharp, settle in my chest. I never meant to put them through that¡­ the pain. But I had no choice. I could have killed them¡­ at least, I thought I could have.

    "I¡¯m sorry," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, carrying the weight of everything I¡¯d tried to bury for years. The apology felt like it cut deeper than I expected, dragging the dark truth with it. "I never wanted any of this. That night¡­ I swear, I had every intention of running back into that house as soon as I found my way home. I was going to come home. But this thing¡­" My breath hitched slightly at the dark emotions tied to that night, my gaze falling to the worn surface of the table. "This thing inside me, it¡¯s like an animal¡­ caged, starved, and furious. And when it takes control¡­ I¡¯m not me anymore."

    Seth¡¯s eyes were wide, his face pale under the flickering light. He leaned in closer, his voice barely audible, as though afraid of what my next words might reveal. "What do you mean? What do you turn into?" This information was pivotal in his mind. This was it¡­ the reason I, his twin brother, had stayed away for so long. He was beyond curious.

    I hesitated, glancing out the window, toward the distant shape of his truck parked under the dim glow of a neon sign, washed out by the white snow that coated it. My reflection stared back at me, hollow-eyed and strained from what I felt. The monstrous presence beneath the surface began to stir. "I¡¯m not human, Seth. Not fully¡­ not anymore," I said, my voice grim, edged with something darker. "Not since I was taken that night in the woods. This thing¡­ changes me, physically. It takes over and runs wild until it''s satisfied."

    Seth¡¯s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "Changes you, how?"

    I exhaled slowly, dragging my gaze back to him. "Those bestiaries you¡¯ve got," I said, my tone low, almost conspiratorial.

    "Bestiaries?" His face tightened in confusion.

    "The books Peter gave you. You keep calling them encyclopedias." I watched his reaction carefully. "Have you read about werewolves in those books?"

    Seth blinked, processing the sudden shift in conversation. Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah. I¡¯ve read some of it."

    "Then you know how they transform, right? The pain. The way their bodies snap and shift into something unnatural¡­ something bigger."

    He nodded again, his eyes locked onto mine, an unspoken question hanging between us. I saw the way his eyes moved, recalling something he had read. He knew what I meant.

    I leaned back slightly, the weight of my next words pressing down on me. "What I go through¡­ it¡¯s similar but worse. My transformation isn¡¯t tied to the moon, blood, or any of that shit the creatures of this world are bound to. It¡¯s not that simple. At first, I thought it only happened when I lost control¡­ when I couldn¡¯t hold it back anymore. I¡¯d start to feel a pressure, a burning. My bones move, my muscles shift and tighten. This thing inside expands, turns me into a monster that you¡¯ll never read about. You¡¯ll never hear about another¡­ never see another. I¡¯m the only one of my kind. I only feed on one thing. When it fades¡­ and I become myself again, there are bodies¡­ everywhere. Blood¡­ death." I swallowed hard, feeling the heavy knot of truth lodged in my throat. "Now, I¡¯ve learned to control it. I can shift whenever I want. I can let that thing out, use its strength, its hunger when I find those that need to be killed. I don¡¯t feed on things like you think. It is the act of killing¡­ of ending something that was¡­ that¡¯s when the monster is satisfied. That¡¯s what it craves¡­" I sighed, lowering my voice as I glanced around our vicinity in the diner. I hoped I hadn¡¯t gotten too loud and was heard. ¡°It craves destruction¡­ death. There¡¯s a reason for that.¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Seth looked like he had just been flooded with information. His mouth barely moved to ask as his mind processed what had been said.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    I trailed off, too caught up in the explanation and almost letting it get away from me. I stopped, letting the gravity of my words sink in, the silence that followed thick and suffocating. Seth just stared, his face ashen, his hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. He wasn''t scared of me, just scared of the reality of what I said. Something like this existed, and he could have gone his whole life without ever knowing. It was hard for him to understand how any of it was real.

    Seth¡¯s reaction was immediate, his disbelief palpable as he pulled back slightly in his seat, his eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher whether I was telling the truth or if this was some sick, twisted joke. His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling with the strain of it, and his mouth opened and closed, searching for words that wouldn¡¯t come.

    "Sam¡­" he finally whispered, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "You can¡¯t¡­ be serious."

    I nodded slowly, the tension between us thickening with each passing second. His eyes darted from me to the door, as though he might bolt at any moment, the reality of what I was telling him too much to process all at once. But then, something shifted in his expression. That protective, big-brother instinct took over, laced with fear. Not fear of me, but for me.

    "You¡¯ve been dealing with this¡­ all by yourself? Fighting off something inside you that just wants to kill¡­ trying to make you kill people?" He was starting to grasp the concept of why I had to stay away¡­ to protect them from what I had inside.

    His voice cracked at the end, a mix of disbelief and hurt, and for a moment, I thought he might cry. Instead, he gripped his coffee mug harder, as if trying to anchor himself to something tangible, something that made sense. The world he had known¡­ the world we both had known was shattering around him, and I could see him struggling to pick up the pieces. To believe that the brother sitting across from him was still me.

    Seth swallowed hard, his eyes full of questions, full of things he couldn¡¯t say out loud in this diner. I could see the battle waging in his mind¡­ the urge to help, to protect me like he always had, clashing with the terror of what I was telling him. Of what I had become. He wasn''t prepared for any of it, no matter what he had read in those Grimwood bestiaries.

    "How can I trust that you¡¯re still¡­ you?" he asked, his voice soft, barely above a whisper. "If this thing is always inside you, waiting to take over¡­ how do I know that you won¡¯t¡­ turn into it right here? OR right in front of Caydee¡­ Vicky? Mom or Dad?"

    His words hit harder than I expected, and for a moment, I didn¡¯t know how to answer. I wasn¡¯t sure if I could give him the reassurance he needed, because deep down, I knew there was always a risk. Visions would come¡­ names would be given, and the monster would move. Always the possibility that the thing inside me could slip its chains and take the wheel if I didn¡¯t obey. Just like it had that one time¡­ when it body snatched me and killed that man in that alley.

    "I¡¯m not asking you to trust the monster," I said finally, my voice rough and raw. "But trust me. Trust that I¡¯m fighting it. Every second. For you. For all of you." I assured him, trying to impress how much I meant every single word. ¡°There is also a lot more that I¡¯ve learned¡­ a lot more I still haven¡¯t told you about the nature of this thing¡­ what it''s meant for. I will¡­ just not now.¡± Everything I said next was to get him back to safety, back with our family.

    There was no time for drawn-out discussions or unpacking the depth of what was about to unfold. I could see it in his eyes, the unspoken worry gnawing at the edge of his expression. He wanted to protect me, to fix something, but this wasn¡¯t something he could fix. He was out of his depth in St. Louis. He needed to go back.

    ¡°I need you to do something,¡± I said, cutting through the silence with a deliberate calmness that didn¡¯t match the chaos stirring inside me.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Seth asked, startled by the sudden shift, the hint of apprehension clear in his voice.

    ¡°Go home, Seth," I said it like a command, not a suggestion. "Things are about to happen here, and they¡¯re going to make this city unsafe for a lot of people.¡±

    He looked at me, confused, trying to grasp the meaning behind my words, but I could see the recognition starting to sink in. The pieces were coming together in his mind, even if he didn¡¯t want to believe them. I glanced up at him, my voice quiet but firm. "You¡¯re walking around this town wearing my face? That¡¯s not something you want right now. It¡¯s not something I want."

    ¡°What is it?" His voice wavered slightly, fear edging into his tone despite the effort to hide it. "What¡¯s about to happen?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s an ecosystem here, Seth. One that¡¯s been hiding beneath the surface for longer than you¡¯d believe. Vampires, werewolves, devourers... things you haven¡¯t even read about in those bestiaries yet, and worse. It¡¯s all real.¡± I pointed down at the ground beneath our table, my finger steady, deliberate. ¡°They¡¯re down there. Beneath the city. It¡¯s like a sanctuary, a hideaway for creatures, and monsters. Some of the most powerful, the oldest, live in those tunnels." I paused, feeling the familiar surge of the beast stirring in my veins. "And I¡¯m going down there. I¡¯m going to kill all of them. When I do it¡­ I can''t have you here. It''s not going to be safe for you¡­ or anyone tied to me. I need you gone, so I can do what has to be done!¡±

    He didn¡¯t understand, his mind was racing. ¡°What if something happens to you? Why do you have to do this?¡±

    ¡°Because, Seth¡­¡± I said. ¡°Only I can. There¡¯s a reason I''m the only one of my kind¡­ why I''m tied to¡­ things beyond this world.¡± I hinted at deeper, darker connections. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. If you stay, you won''t be!¡±

    The words hung heavy in the air, charged with an ominous weight. My voice had darkened, laced with the cold certainty of what needed to be done, and for a moment, I felt my eyes shift¡­ black, monstrous. I saw the flicker of fear in Seth¡¯s eyes, brief but unmistakable. He tried to keep his composure, to stay calm, but I could sense his pulse quicken, feel the way his heart beat a little harder. My senses were sharp now; nothing escaped me.

    He didn¡¯t speak right away. There was a tension between us, thick, electric. He could feel it. I could feel it. The Primeval inside me leaked its presence into the space between us. He was rattled, though he did his best to hide it. That subtle, primal fear of the unknown, of what I had become.

    We stood up from the table without another word. The silence was palpable as we paid the bill and stepped outside, the cool morning air washing over us as we walked to his truck. Every step was heavy with the unspoken truth. He understood now. He didn¡¯t have to ask. I could sense it; the way his mind worked through the implications of what I was telling him, what it meant for him to be here, for me to be here. We were twins¡­ we always could tell what the other was thinking.

    When we reached his room at the Fleabag Motel, I helped him pack. The silence stretched between us, neither of us willing to break it. We moved methodically, cramming his belongings into a small suitcase and a couple of backpacks. He didn¡¯t ask questions, he didn¡¯t need to. There was nothing more to say, not now. Not with what I was about to do. The tension simmered beneath the surface, the unspoken understanding that he needed to leave, and I needed to stay.

    We loaded up his truck, and Seth stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the door handle, staring at me with an intensity that felt heavy with meaning. He didn¡¯t know what to say, and honestly, I wasn¡¯t sure what he could say.

    He opened his mouth, but no words came out. There was too much between us, too much weight in the silence, in the shared understanding of what had to happen next. He didn¡¯t have to believe everything, not yet. But he knew enough. He knew that staying meant danger, and leaving was the only way I could keep him safe.

    ¡°When it''s over¡­ and that place is nothing but blood and ashes¡­ I¡¯ll come home,¡± I looked back up from my feet to my brother. I really meant what came next. ¡°I need your help though. If I''m coming back... I need you to prepare the way. Figure out how to get them ready¡­ to see me again¡­ like this.¡± I started getting choked up, scared of what they¡¯d think; what Mom and Dad would see when they looked at me again. What my sisters would think¡­ if they¡¯d even let me near their kids. When Vicky looked into my black eyes, would she turn away and take Caydee with her?¡±

    Seth¡¯s eyes locked onto mine, and in that moment, I saw the fear give way to something else. Something stronger. He didn¡¯t have all the answers and didn¡¯t fully understand what I had become, but somewhere in his expression, I saw a flicker of belief. Of trust. Not in the creature I had described, but in the brother he had known for years¡­ before all of this. The brother; who had once sat beside him in school, in church, at cookouts and family dinners. The same brother who he thought would always be there, no matter how long we were apart, no matter the distance. Any time we saw each other, it was like no time had passed. And in that moment¡­ we both felt it all again. Even through all this shit¡­ nothing had changed, not really. At the heart of everything, we were still the same kids that had grown up together¡­ through everything. This was all just one bump in the road.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do it¡­ together. You just make sure you come back¡­¡± he started tearing up. His eyes were watering as he spoke. He reached over and gripped my arm just above my elbow as he said the words.

    I nodded, jaw clenched tight, holding back the flood of emotions that threatened to break loose. The humanity that still clung to me screamed for him to stay. I didn¡¯t want him to leave, didn¡¯t want to go down into those hellish depths. Part of me wanted to just get in his truck, to go with him, to leave this all behind. To go home together, like we always did when we were kids, figuring out the world side by side. But I knew better. I couldn¡¯t. That was the part of me that had died¡­ the part that had been stripped away, leaving this thing, this monster in its place.

    I reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace, holding on longer than I should have, trying to bury the ache that gnawed at me. I squeezed him until it hurt, like holding on was the only way to stop him from slipping away. But I knew¡­ it was time. It had to be done.

    When Seth finally pulled back, his face was unreadable. He opened the door to his truck, and without a word, he got in. The engine rumbled to life, and he reversed out of the parking spot. I watched as he pulled onto the street, heading away from me, from this city, from the storm I was about to unleash. He didn¡¯t wave, didn¡¯t glance back, and I could see it in his posture¡­ the way his shoulders were set. He was holding it all in, waiting until he was far enough away to let it out. He had to, or it would¡¯ve swallowed him whole.

    I stood there, staring at the empty parking space, my chest tight, the air feeling too thick. Seth was gone. Finally safe. Fleeing before the reckoning I was going to bring down on this city¡¯s underworld. He¡¯d be free from it all, untouched by the bloodshed, the destruction, the carnage I¡¯d drag up from the pits below. He didn¡¯t need to see what I¡¯d become, what I was capable of. He wouldn¡¯t need to carry that weight.

    I lingered there, rooted to the spot, the silence pressing in around me. For just a moment, I let myself feel the loneliness, the coldness of it all. Alone again. The last thread that connected me to that old life, the life where I was just Sam, had driven away.

    There was no turning back now. I had to let him go. And in doing so, I had to let go of the part of myself that wished for something else¡­ something more human; until I finally went home again.

    It was time to finish what I had started.

 Chapter 68 - Surprising Turn

    It had been days since Seth left the city. I hoped my brutal and messy killings of the vampires near St. Charles would have garnered some attention. But for the time being, it seemed like that was not the case. I reflected on my earlier days in St Louis when I was ignorant of the threats lurking below the city streets. I was pulling humans alone, no supernatural creatures, which took about two years. Killing one batch of vampires might not gain me as much notoriety as I had hoped. Maybe this would take longer than I realized.

    It was night on the snowy streets of St Louis, winter was in full swing, and the denizens of society had acclimated to the environment, and life continued. Now everyone was bundled up in their goofy-looking pea coats, and gigantic Ugg boots, and I swear I even saw a dude in a puffed-up-looking long coat with actual coattails dragging behind him. He looked like he was going for that Gaston look, probably just to pull in women on the city streets... but who knows?

    I ventured out to Martin¡¯s bar, keeping my hood pulled low over my face, the fabric heavy with the weight of necessity. The shadows it cast were the only thing hiding my blackened eyes. Eyes that still haunted me with their relentless reminder of what I was becoming. They were no longer just a temporary affliction¡­ they were a permanent part of me now. Once I convinced Seth to leave the city, the fragile hold I had on my humanity unraveled, slipping away like sand through my fingers. The monster surged back, creeping into my reflection, twisting it into something darker.

    The inky blackness of my eyes remained, unyielding, a stark contrast against the skin of my face. I had some control over my teeth, though. They hadn¡¯t fully given in to the beast yet, but four fangs had a habit of showing themselves at the worst times, poking out a little too eagerly. It was a constant struggle to keep them in check, but manageable. Talking to people wasn¡¯t really my thing anymore, anyway. I wasn¡¯t the type to flash smiles or charm anyone with casual conversation. I wasn¡¯t even sure if I could smile anymore¡ªit felt wrong, foreign. But that worked in my favor. The less I interacted, the less chance anyone had to notice just how far gone I was. Plus, I wasn''t really the type to just walk around smiling like some fucking idiot, so I had that going for me.

    I opened the door to the vampire-owned establishment, catching a glimpse of my dark reflection in the glass. The unsuspecting patrons of Martin''s place were buzzing with conversation. As I took in the scents, sites, and atmosphere of the place I realized two things; there were indeed many vampires present, and there were also many other things there. I had only ever really noticed the vampires before, their powerful blood mix was far more potent than any human. It threw my senses off when I first discovered the supernatural world. However, now that I was more accustomed to it, I could kind of compartmentalize them. Keeping track of vampires, and the specific stench they put out, even though it smelled like many different people. Once I could compartmentalize them into their respective figures, it was easier to pick out other people... or things, that lurked around them.

    Randomly speckled throughout the sea of nighttime creatures, were oddities that I hadn''t picked out before. Different colored eyes peeked out from behind glasses, strange physical features hid beneath clothing, but not for my senses.

    I focused inside my mind and sent out a pulse in the bar. I melded the pulse with all my other senses, breathing in the place, feeling every inch of the bar and its intricacies. The new folks that I was inspecting had many odd details about them. Oddly slow heartbeats... Not human. Different rhythms of breathing that seemed almost like they were sniffing or tasting the air. Beneath clothing, I could sense spines, or spikes rather. From a distance, they could have passed as humans, or maybe after a few drinks, the average everyday human might see normal people. Might follow one home for¡­ a close encounter, or a brush with death.

    As my pulse swallowed the room, I noticed the humans that lingered there as well. Anytime I was at Martin''s, and humans were present, they all had the same feeling... drunk. They had been bar hopping all night, sweat clung to the backs of their shirts, and they were just looking for a good time. Only after drinking for hours and feeling the alcohol boosting their courage did they have their adventure to this side of town. They must have known about the red-headed woman who ran the bar. Maybe they¡¯d seen her before, heard stories maybe; now finally they dared to venture out to try and pick her up.

    And there she was, right where the frat boys knew she¡¯d be; Alex, standing casually behind the polished wood bar like she owned the place. Her blood-red hair was the first thing that caught the eye, a wild, spiraling river of crimson that cascaded over her left shoulder in a deliberate, messy tumble. It stood out against her pale skin, which she exposed in every way possible without actually crossing the line into indecency; though she flirted with that line constantly. She didn¡¯t need a new tactic; this one worked just fine, over and over again.

    Her cutoff jeans barely qualified as clothing, sliced so high they left little to the imagination, just frayed remnants clinging to her hips. Her V-neck shirt was another story. What might have started as a crop top now looked like it had been mauled by a beast, hanging as a thin veil that barely concealed her breasts. Tattoos snaked down her arms and across her back, intricate designs of ink weaving through her pale skin, stark against her otherwise porcelain complexion. Her body was a canvas, screaming rebellion, and danger, but the vampires? They ate it up.

    With a sly smile curling at her lips, she served drinks to the vampires who prowled toward her, leaning far too close over the bar, her cleavage on full display. Her fingers brushed theirs in passing, a subtle, intimate caress here, a lingering glance there. They responded just as she expected, drinking in every calculated gesture, every soft word she offered. But when humans approached, her demeanor shifted, her gaze turned cold, her replies curt and dismissive. She¡¯d toss their drinks down with little care, clearly eager to send them packing. Humans didn¡¯t belong here, and she made sure they knew it. Not because she hated them¡­ the opposite in fact.

    I walked up to the bar, connecting eyes with her about halfway through the crowd of customers. My black eyes showed no emotion or amusement. She eyed me intently as I walked to my usual table deep in the recesses of the bar. She didn¡¯t make a move, didn¡¯t even acknowledge me. She just watched me as I passed by her. I heard her sigh, and then stop what she was doing. She grabbed a glass and then started pouring a pitcher of beer.

    I sat out of sight of other patrons, melding into the shadows of the low-lit bar. I waited, knowing she¡¯d come eventually. I needed to speak with her¡­ with Martin. I needed to see if either of them had any information. Anything I could use to lure out something from the pits, to grab attention from below, while still remaining subtle enough to not bring anything down on the Chasse family.

    I heard the usual clink of glasses and the small vial of yellow powder in her hands as she walked the pitcher over to me. She kept her sultry mask on until she was out of sight of the rest of the people. Then, her face hardened.

    ¡°What do you want? Why¡¯d you come here?¡± her face was cold.

    ¡°To talk. Is Martin here?¡± I asked.

    She nodded, placing her pitcher of beer down. ¡°He is. But I wanted to talk to you first.¡± She settled into the booth across from me. Her body teased its intricacies and enticement as she moved in the seat, her clothes too revealing.

    ¡°About what?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Autumn and Patrick,¡± she stated plainly.

    I gritted my teeth at her words, the thoughts I struggled to hide and not think about surfaced. I felt a sigh come out of me involuntarily, even the Primeval was sore about the subject. I wondered if that was because we were becoming more intertwined.

    ¡°I''ve been watching them. Keeping an eye on Patrick and what he''s been up to. To see if maybe there was some truth to what you were saying,¡± she explained. She had a look on her face that dared me to say something snarky.

    I smirked, trying to maintain my composure, but I really wanted to just piss her off. ¡°So, it looks like you finally opened your eyes.¡±

    ¡°Listen asshole, I didn''t have to look at shit. I could just keep to myself and not stick my neck out for you.¡± She huffed angrily. Her voice rose a little but she brought it back down, knowing she didn''t truly want anyone else inside the bar to hear our conversation.

    My smile faded, and I got more serious. I knew she was right, and she didn''t have to do anything to help me out. But this was, in her own way, helping me. It surprised me as well. I didn¡¯t expect this from her.

    ¡°What did you see?¡± I asked her, trying to make some kind of peace between us.

    She smiled villainously, pleased that she was able to get me to bend to her will in some way, even if it was just not being such a smart-ass. ¡°From what I can tell, Patrick Wicklow is as normal as can be. I haven''t seen any signs that he is anything like Peter Grimwood. He isn''t using any sort of strange power, he''s not slipping in and out of the physical world, nothing. Honestly, the boy is a bit of a fuck up. His aunt, that strange woman... Shelta?¡± Alex had this questioning look like for some reason, she couldn''t place the name or maybe she just thought it was strange. ¡°Whatever, his aunt has been trying to train him to use his power better, like the rest of their family. But that boy is just not a natural.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± I asked. I started smiling again, not to antagonize Alex, but the information she was telling me was entertaining. Just knowing that Patrick was out there unable to perform any feats that were literally written in his blood, made me giddy on the inside.

    ¡°Yeah, I thought you¡¯d like that.¡± She grinned slightly at my amusement. ¡°He just doesn¡¯t really seem to care about his heritage. But that¡¯s not why I wanted to talk.¡± Alex shifted in her seat, inching closer across the table. Her voice dropped to a whisper, the kind meant to avoid being overheard, even by Martin. She leaned in so close¡­ so low that her breath brushed my skin, but as she did, her loose-fitting shirt slipped down and forward, revealing far more of her cleavage than before. Her breasts were nearly on full display, the soft fabric barely containing them. I wasn¡¯t sure if she was aware of how much she was showing or if she was testing me, gauging my reaction.

    The monster stirred beneath my skin, a slow, burning pulse that crawled from the back of my throat into my teeth, setting them on edge. I felt my eyes darken, the blackness creeping deeper, threatening to spill out and let the Primeval run wild. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was the beast¡¯s need to kill¡­ or something else. Whatever it was, it gnawed at me. My body tensed, the heat simmering in my jaw, but I forced myself to shake it off, pushing the sensation down before it got worse.

    I dragged my eyes away from the temptation before me and locked onto her eyes instead. Her gaze held mine, and I stared back, fighting to keep control as she began to speak again. Her words felt distant for a moment, drowned out by the pulse of my own darkened thoughts, but I focused¡­ barely.

    ¡°As I''ve been watching Autumn and Patrick¡­ Patrick seems like the normal one. It''s Autumn who is acting strange,¡± she said the words carefully.

    I perked up, a little nervous at what she could possibly mean. The worst-case scenarios that I could concoct in about two seconds started playing through my head. I hoped that whatever she was about to say was not going to be one of those ideas... ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°She seems distant from her family. I''ve seen her with Patrick more than I''ve seen her with her mom and dad. For a girl of her standing and everything I know about her through Martin or my own snooping, her actions do not fit her. She really seems like a different person... her, definitely still her¡­ just different.¡±

    ¡°Just because she''s spending a lot of time with him?¡± I asked. I hoped there was more, prayed there would be more, just to validate the fears I had about that series of images I saw once I finally was given Peter Grimwood''s name and the visions that accompanied it. I didn¡¯t want anything to be wrong with Autumn, but I wanted desperately to know that what she had done¡­ throwing me away like she had¡­ that there was something else going on. None of it made sense.

    ¡°It''s not just the time,¡± Alex said. ¡°It''s her attitude.. her personality. I was outside of her family home the other day, listening to an argument between Carter, Eleanor, and Autumn. Her parents didn''t understand why she was not enrolling in classes next semester. From what I gathered it sounds like she''s completely giving up on school.¡±

    I shifted in my seat, leaning forward, closer to her as my interest peaked. ¡°She wouldn''t do that. From everything I knew of her... what I thought I knew of her, she loved going to college. She loved biology and learning about how all the stuff works.¡±

    ¡°All that stuff..?¡± Alex mockingly repeated as she looked into me wide-eyed. ¡°I can tell you''re definitely no college boy.¡± She laughed for a little too long. Then she mocked me in her best country accent, or as close as she could imitate, ¡°All that dang-ole stuff inside ya guts and whatnot.¡±

    I just stared at her for a second, honestly a little surprised at the sudden humor in her voice. Although I had to admit it didn''t feel good getting talked down to like I was some country bumpkin who couldn''t even speak the English language. She wasn''t laughing at my voice, but my intellect. ¡°You¡¯re right, I didn''t go to college, so I don''t know what the fuck you want from me. But you know what I mean, she was into it. College meant a lot to her.¡±

    Alex rolled her eyes, ¡°Jeez lighten up, I''m just fucking with you. I never went to college either so I can''t talk too much.¡± She laughed at herself, thinking her jokes were more funny than they were.

    She leaned back, her neckline angling away from me so it was harder to see down her cleavage. She ran her fingers through her hair scratching her scalp with both hands in a way that seemed to soothe her. She breathed quietly and then turned her head back toward the bar and shot daggers towards someone.

    I hadn''t been paying attention, so I never heard them walk up, but a human male had squeaked over and was looking for the sultry bartender. He had found her hidden in the back with me. When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks. I was unsure if he caught a glimpse of my black eyes, or if it was just the aura from the Primeval that rested in my bones. As soon as he looked away from me and back towards Alex, his drunkenness and borrowed courage helped him regain himself.

    ¡°Oh, there you are. I was just hoping to find you and get a drink¡­¡± he was cut off.

    ¡°Customers are not allowed back here,¡± Alex said sternly. She hopped up from the booth and paced right up to him. Her long red hair fell behind her as she swayed up to the unsuspecting human. I could feel her surge her blood through her body, just enough to put a little bit of menace in her eyes. I think she was trying to scare him, not just away, but out of the bar entirely.

    Alex smiled darkly, ¡°I''ll get you a drink when I''m done back here.¡± She leered at him, trying to get rid of this drunk douche.

    He nodded in a very agreeable manner, trying to smooth things over with the attractive redhead. I could tell he hoped he hadn¡¯t hurt his chances. I don''t know if he was trying to ignore the murderous power she had exuded, or if he was just blind to it from the combination of alcohol and the way Alex looked in sparse clothes, baring all her assets.

    As Alex watched the guy scurry back to his table of friends, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh to myself. I looked her up and down; her whole look was clearly designed to catch the eye of young male vampires, who were always driven by their lustful urges. She knew exactly how to get their attention. But the funny part was, it worked just as well on human men, even though that was the last thing she wanted. She had to deal with them all the time, even though they were definitely not her target.

    Her shorts barely covered anything. Her ass was maybe half an inch away from hanging out completely, and I was sure whenever she bent over to grab something, both vampires and humans were getting a good view. The low-cut top she wore didn¡¯t help either; her chest was practically spilling out, and every move she made just drew more eyes. It was no surprise guys kept getting the wrong idea.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    But that was the downside of her plan. She wanted to lure in vampires, but humans couldn¡¯t help themselves, thinking her act was for them. She had to deal with that mess constantly. Dudes who thought her flirting meant something more. And by the look of it, she was over it, handling them with cold stares and barely any interest, just trying to get them out of her way.

    ¡°Do you really have to dress like that?¡± I asked, not trying to start an argument, but actually curious.

    Alex spun back around on me pretty quickly, a flare of something in her eyes. The only thing I could compare it to would be the phrase... ¡®What the fuck did you just say?¡¯

    ¡°Why is the way I dress any concern of yours?¡± She spoke like she had a knife in her hand and was about to stab me in the face.

    I smiled and shook my head, ¡°I''m just saying, you obviously don''t want all the attention. Isn''t there some way to deter the humans¡­ and only target the ones you want?¡± I asked specifically, trying to let her understand that I could see what she was doing¡­ I could spot her method.

    Her incredulous look that dared me to keep talking faded. She walked back over to my booth and plopped back down in front of me, ignoring the service she probably needed to get back to behind the bar.

    ¡°Actually, since you¡¯re so fucking interested¡­¡± Alex huffed, her lips curling into a sly grin. ¡°I¡¯ve run a few experiments over the years working here with Martin.¡± She paused, her eyes narrowing as if searching for the right word. ¡°The¡­ sluttier I dress, the more I attract and lure out young vampires. It¡¯s all tied to their new, hungry nature. Their bloodlust and intense urges¡­ it doesn¡¯t just make them want to feed. It heightens their sexual desires too. The newer they are, the more intense it gets.¡±

    She leaned back, explaining this with a slow, methodical tone like she was teaching a lesson. ¡°But it¡¯s not just that. My nature as an anthropophagus vampire makes me different from them. They can sense it, something just off enough that they¡¯re intrigued. It¡¯s like they feel this mystery they need to solve, this puzzle that I present to them; something similar but not exactly like them.¡± Her words were laced with years of experience, her knowledge accumulated from living in this life far longer than most.

    ¡°And believe it or not,¡± she continued, leaning forward again, ¡°the way I dress actually deters more humans than you¡¯d think. When I tone it down, and dress more modestly, sure, vampires still come onto me, but not nearly as many. Instead, I end up with more humans hitting on me. It''s like the humans aren¡¯t as intimidated by my normal clothes. But when I go all out, the more outlandish and skanky I dress, the better it works for what I¡¯m trying to do.¡± She smirked, clearly proud of the strategy she¡¯d refined over time. ¡°Most of you boys are too scared to go for it with someone that dresses like this,¡± she waved her hand up and down her toned, exposed body.

    I nodded slowly, realizing that she was much more than just some seductive figure using her body to lure vampires. There was a sharp mind behind every choice she made, each action carefully calculated to get the results she wanted. It was impressive, really. She wasn¡¯t just surviving as this offshoot breed of vampire, she was mastering the art of it, crunching numbers in her own way, and perfecting her craft. I had never really thought about it like that before, but now, I saw it.

    Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she tried to catch me off guard. She placed her hands on her breasts, squeezing her tits together, pushing them up provocatively. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with the way I dress, Sam? Don¡¯t you like how I look?¡± Her voice dripped with mock innocence as her blood-red eyes darkened, a flicker of power coursing through her body. I could feel it¡­ the same energy she used to overwhelm those young vampires, pushing their buttons, testing their limits. She was aiming it at me.

    I felt the monster inside me stir, clawing at its cage, squeezing the bars like it was trying to break free. My teeth started to burn, the pressure building as my fangs tried to push their way out. I could feel my eyes darkening, the blackness creeping in until they were pitch-black pools, locked onto hers. But I didn¡¯t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I kept my face neutral, and calm, like nothing she did phased me.

    But the truth was, my human side was struggling. I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t at least a little enticed by her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and part of me couldn¡¯t help but feel drawn to it. That primal urge was there, lurking just beneath the surface, begging to let go. But I forced it down, choking it back before it could take control. My body screamed to react, but I wouldn¡¯t let it show.

    Her smile faded, and the glow in her eyes dimmed back to their usual shade. ¡°You''re no fun,¡± she muttered, but there was something softer in her voice, almost like the words were just a reflex. She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing the grain of the wood for a moment. It was slow like maybe she regretted pushing too far. I watched as she took a small breath, the slightest hint of hesitation, and then she looked back up at me, her eyes meeting mine again.

    ¡°Lighten up, Sam,¡± she said, forcing a small smile. ¡°I¡¯m just messing with you.¡± But there was an undercurrent there, something more vulnerable than she wanted to show. ¡°I haven¡¯t had friends in a long time, so this¡­ all of this¡­ it¡¯s kind of new to me. In a way.¡±

    The words hung between us, and for a moment, it felt like she was admitting more than just that. Maybe she was letting a piece of her guard down, trying to connect in a way she didn¡¯t know how to anymore.

    ¡°What do you mean, what about Martin? I thought you guys were friends,¡± I asked her, trying to gain ground on this strange relationship that had formed somehow.

    She tossed her head to the side, her blood-red hair cascading over her shoulder as she poured herself a drink. With a practiced motion, she sprinkled in some yellow dust, just the kick she needed to take the edge off. ¡°We are friends,¡± she said, her voice steady, but there was a hint of something deeper. ¡°But he¡¯s more like a father to me, always trying to teach me the best ways to do things. Learn from his mistakes, sort of thing. If I¡¯m being honest¡­ it¡¯s hard to relate to Martin.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± I asked, genuinely interested.

    She paused, and the weight of her words settled in the air between us. ¡°He¡¯s killed innocent people¡­ a long time ago, but he has done it. Now he¡¯s... reformed.¡± She glanced away, her gaze drifting to the wall beside our booth, her expression clouded. ¡°I always have that in the back of my mind, and it keeps me aware of his capabilities. I know he¡¯ll never go back to what he was¡­ but it lingers there. If we¡¯d met in another time¡­ I would have killed him.¡±

    I leaned in closer, drawn into her honesty. ¡°You¡¯ve never killed anyone who didn¡¯t deserve it?¡±

    She shook her head slowly, her voice lowering. ¡°Almost always vampires, but I¡¯ve killed humans too. Only those humans who were trying to become vampires themselves, luring others into the jaws of some filthy leech. I don¡¯t feed from them¡­ never!¡± She spat at the thought. ¡°I just end them. I don¡¯t let their blood touch me. I only drink from vampires.¡±

    I nodded, absorbing the gravity of her words, unsure why she was sharing this part of herself with me all of a sudden. ¡°Why are you being so honest with me?¡±

    Her red eyes gazed into me, accenting her blood-toned hair as she sat there. ¡°I think¡­ you remind me of me,¡± she continued, her eyes suddenly brightening with an earnestness that caught me off guard. ¡°From what Martin has told me about you¡­ you didn¡¯t choose this life. This was shoved upon you. Your life was stolen¡­ you lost¡­ people¡­ family. You kill killers, people who take too much from this world, both human and monster alike.¡± A genuine smile spread across her face. ¡°I can get on board with that!¡±

    I chuckled, a little confused about where the conversation was headed. ¡°Thanks¡­ I guess. The more the merrier I suppose.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, I consider you¡­ a friend.¡± She struggled with the words, almost as if they were foreign to her.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± I laughed, the sound escaping before I could stop it. ¡°You could have fooled me.¡± I didn¡¯t mean to come off as an asshole, but it was honestly the first thing that popped into my head after she said it.

    Fortunately, she laughed too, her grin full of amusement. ¡°Like I said, this is all new for me. I haven¡¯t been friendly with people in a long time. Before I knew too much about you, I just figured you were some other asshole I¡¯d end up killing eventually.¡± Her laughter filled the space between us, and for a moment, the tension faded. ¡°But now? I don¡¯t think I have to worry about that anymore.¡±

    Then her expression shifted, growing serious as she gathered her thoughts. ¡°Although¡­ there are things I think you shouldn¡¯t do. Lines you¡¯re toeing way too closely.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± I shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping in, but I was still curious. ¡°What¡¯s that, oh wise one?¡±

    Her tone turned unapologetic. ¡°You were getting too close to Autumn, anyway.¡±

    Her words landed like a punch to the gut, catching me completely off guard. ¡°Too close?¡± I repeated, disbelief creeping into my voice.

    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± she said firmly. ¡°She¡¯s human¡­ you¡¯re not! Don¡¯t pretend you can have a normal life just because some girl¡¯s looking at you with doe eyes. You¡¯re a fucking monster¡­ just like me! We didn¡¯t ask for this, but it¡¯s a fact you can¡¯t change.¡±

    I fell silent for a moment, her words hanging in the air like an unshakable truth. I had expected something different from her, not this aggressive stance on something that had meant so much to me. Why did she think her opinion mattered to me?

    ¡°So what am I supposed to do then? Stay alone¡­ be miserable for the rest of my shitty life?¡± I challenged her, feeling a mix of frustration and desperation. ¡°Is that what¡¯s right?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve done,¡± she said, her voice steady and unwavering. ¡°I¡¯ve felt the same urge to connect with someone¡­ someone who could make me feel human again. But I knew it wasn¡¯t right. I knew what I was. I¡¯m a vampire¡­ and I¡¯m not what an innocent human being needs to be tied to. Look what they did to me¡­ what they did to my friends¡­ to my family. I am them now¡­ I am a blood-drinking vampire. Why would I drag someone else into this fucked up curse?¡±

    Her conviction echoed in the space between us, each word charged with a painful wisdom. I could see it in her eyes¡­ the depth of her understanding, the weight of her choices; and I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was speaking from experience. Like maybe she had actually done something like what I had been doing with Autumn.

    I looked at her for a moment, really thinking about what her life must be like. Her words pissed me off, but when I thought about my current situation, her words really didn¡¯t matter. Autumn had smartened up and cast me aside. She was not tied to me anymore, her actions made that all too clear. I smirked, trying not to dwell on her words since they didn¡¯t matter anyway. ¡°Well¡­ if everything is as you say¡­ Patrick is normal, Autumn is happy¡­ safe¡­ then I don¡¯t matter to her anyway. I told her a while back that if she ever wanted me gone, to just say the word. I guess this was it.¡±

    Just then, Martin strode out from the front of the bar, his brow furrowed in a way that suggested he was lost in thought. He scanned the room, and when his gaze landed on Alex and me nestled in our shadowy booth, a flicker of recognition crossed his face.

    ¡°Sam¡­ Alex¡­ what is going on?¡± Martin asked his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

    Alex was quick to respond, her voice brightening as if she hadn¡¯t just been discussing something serious. ¡°Oh, we were just chatting about Autumn and Patrick.¡± She reached down into the booth, before pulling out a small green hairbrush. It gleamed under the dim light, a striking color that seemed almost out of place in the bar''s gritty atmosphere. My heart raced as I recognized it instantly. This was the very same brush I had seen in the vision granted by Death. The one Patrick had received from Peter Grimwood, the dark gypsy who met his end at Death¡¯s hands.

    ¡°You have it?¡± I blurted out, disbelief coloring my voice. I couldn¡¯t believe she hadn¡¯t mentioned it before now. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me you had it?¡±

    Alex shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. ¡°I figured I¡¯d let you stew in your thoughts a little longer,¡± she teased, but the glint in her eyes faded as she added, ¡°But like I said, Patrick and Autumn seem healthy, safe, and for the most part¡­ normal.¡±

    I leaned forward, urgency flooding my senses. ¡°But what about Autumn? Is she really okay?¡±

    Alex¡¯s expression shifted slightly as she considered my question. ¡°She is acting a bit strange, like I explained,¡± she admitted, biting her lip as if weighing her words. ¡°But it¡¯s nothing that screams dark spells or ancient magic. Honestly, it feels more like she¡¯s just going through some phase of life¡­ like she¡¯s rebelling. She seems¡­ very smitten with Patrick.¡± She knew her words would affect me in a way. But I also got the feeling she was trying to keep some of what we spoke about away from Martin. As if this was the first I had heard of this.

    I guess, in some way¡­ we really were friends.

    Martin shifted his weight, clearly intrigued. ¡°Rebelling? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s been a little more reckless lately,¡± Alex explained, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. ¡°But it feels like typical actions of a young girl. You know how it goes¡ªtrying to find her own way, pushing boundaries. How long has she been hunting¡­ doing exactly what the family wants her to do.¡±

    I exchanged a glance with Martin, both of us unsettled but relieved that there wasn¡¯t an immediate threat. Yet, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something deeper was brewing beneath the surface.

    ¡°After I started keeping an eye on them, I noticed Patrick practically drooling over this brush,¡± Alex said, a hint of pride in her voice. ¡°So, I swiped it. I knew it had to be the one you mentioned. The next day, he seemed way more frantic, but that vibe cooled down after a while, and he¡¯s been fine since.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the same one¡­ the brush from the vision,¡± I said, my heart racing as I reached for it. Alex handed it to me without hesitation.

    The plastic green handle felt slick against my palm, almost cool to the touch. As I turned it over, I noticed dark brown hairs twisted and woven into the bristles¡ªremnants of Autumn. I found myself staring at it, feeling a strange mix of connection and unease. It felt¡­ ordinary. No remnants of the supernatural world clung to it, no aura of darkness. It was just a brush.

    ¡°Maybe we should have someone examine it?¡± Martin suggested, his brow furrowing with thought. ¡°What about Shelta? If anyone can sniff out any lingering traces of Peter, it¡¯s her. Even if Patrick is tied to it.¡± His voice held a confident edge. ¡°Can I take it to her?¡± He looked to Alex, then to me, waiting for an answer.

    I glanced at Alex, who nodded in approval. With a sigh of resignation, I slowly handed the brush to Martin, my hopes resting on his ability to confirm that this item held no power. I wanted to believe that all of Peter¡¯s influence was gone, reduced to nothing.

    Martin examined the brush with a careful eye, searching for something¡­ anything that could hint at its past. But as the seconds ticked by in the heavy silence, I felt a growing sense of dread. After what felt like an eternity, Martin finally broke the silence. ¡°You came to see me, Sam?¡± he asked, his tone shifting, curiosity piqued.

    I swallowed hard, caught off guard by the question. What was I really here for?

    <hr>

    My black eyes glimmered like obsidian under the flickering neon signs above, but Martin didn¡¯t mention them. Instead, he offered a simple nod, as if acknowledging the change without needing to speak it.

    ¡°How have you been?¡± Marin started, knowing much more than he let on.

    ¡°Doing alright, considering,¡± I replied, trying to brush off the heaviness that clung to me. ¡°Just trying to navigate this new... situation,¡± I spoke of the severed relationship between Autumn and me.

    Martin studied me for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. ¡°I heard about the massacre of that vampire group near St. Charles,¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°Pretty brutal stuff. You involved?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°I thought that was implied. I let some go just so they could go down below and call out the big guns.¡±

    He looked at me for a second longer, and I could feel his concern weighing on the air between us. ¡°It will¡­ in time. I do know they went below¡­ at least one of them. It¡¯s not some quick reaction. These things take time. If the elders sent a pack of immortals to hunt after every infraction, they¡®d out themselves to the world. It may take¡­ I hate to say it¡­ more. However, as soon as I get ahold of Charles, I will let you know. Maybe I can even set up something between the two of you¡­ get you what you want without too much bloodshed.¡±

    His words rubbed me the wrong way¡­ the monster too. I knew what he meant, but part of me didn¡¯t like the way he said it. Those fuckers needed to die.

    His gaze softened, and he shifted slightly, crossing his arms. ¡°You and Alex seem pretty friendly these days. Didn¡¯t think she was the type to warm up to anyone.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at that. ¡°Trust me, I thought the same thing. Just a few weeks ago, I was pretty sure she wanted me dead.¡±

    Martin laughed, the sound rich and warm, cutting through the tension. ¡°Guess she¡¯s good at hiding her feelings.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you could say that.¡± I shrugged, the memory of our earlier conversations and shared amusement and antagonistic banter washing over me. ¡°It¡¯s kind of nice to see this side of her. I didn¡¯t know she had it in her.¡±

    He nodded, his expression turning serious again. ¡°She¡¯s been through a lot. Just like you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, feeling the gravity of our shared experiences hanging in the air. ¡°But I think we¡¯re both figuring it out in our own ways.¡± She held many different views than I did.

    ¡°How are Carter and Eleanor?¡± I asked, changing the subject slightly. ¡°They doing okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re good,¡± Martin replied, ¡°all things considered. They¡¯re just trying to navigate this situation with Autumn. Lots of internal family stuff. They¡¯ve asked about you, actually. Wondering if I¡¯ve seen you.¡±

    I felt a warmth spread through me at the thought. ¡°That¡¯s nice to hear. I should reach out to them.¡±

    ¡°Definitely. They¡¯d love to hear from you¡­ even if things are¡­ different.¡± Martin paused as he hinted at Autumn. He sighed, unfortunately. ¡°And, you¡¯re always welcome here.¡±

    The words settled over me, a comforting reminder in a world that often felt overwhelming. I nodded, appreciating the moment of connection between us. ¡°Thanks, Martin. That means a lot.¡±

    ¡°Anytime, Sam,¡± he said, the warmth returning to his eyes. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get you a drink. I think we could both use one.¡±

    Once I finished drifting around the backrooms of Martin¡¯s bar, I started leaving. The frat boys were still there, leering at Alex from across the room. They might cause her a problem. Not that she couldn¡¯t handle them, but they were innocent¡­ annoying, and absolute dumbasses, but innocent nonetheless. I thought about scaring them off, just to make it easier on her. But then¡­ I didn¡¯t want to take away her fun. I paced up to her at the bar where she stood, polishing glasses again.

    She glanced up at my sight, carrying on our conversation from earlier like it hadn¡¯t been interrupted. ¡°Let me ask you something¡­ why are your eyes black? It¡¯s never been like this before¡­ you look like you¡¯re on the verge of¡­ coming out¡­ if you know what I mean.¡±

    I focused, trying to pull back the blackness that swallowed my naturally blue eyes. It faded for a moment but then swallowed them whole again. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I think I¡¯m blending more with this thing. The more I learn about it, the more it feels like I¡¯m not just me anymore.¡±

    She nodded slowly, seeming like she knew some kind of similarity to what I was saying. Maybe she struggled against her inner demon more than I realized as well.

    ¡°Remember what I said,¡± she warned, her gaze locking onto mine with a fierce intensity that could have sent a shiver down my spine in a previous life. ¡°You and me¡­ we are fucking monsters!¡±

    Her eyes flared a deep crimson, a fiery reminder of the power surging through her veins, illuminating the darkness that lurked within us. The air thickened with an electric tension, charged by our shared reality; a truth I struggled to deny. My own black eyes reflected her ferocity, swirling pools of void that mirrored the abyssal prison within me. The place the Primeval¡­ Myoordrakien slumbered.

    In that charged silence, we stood as two beings forged from the same dark world, bound by an understanding that transcended words. A pulse of raw energy throbbed between us, a reminder of the different monstrous natures we had embraced, and in that moment, I couldn¡¯t deny it. We were monsters. Killers of killers.

    With a nod, I turned and strode toward the front door, the weight of our new connection heavy on my shoulders. I stepped into the night, the world outside swirling with shadows and snow.

 Chapter 69 - Try Again

    I wanted more. More monsters, more violence, more of that raw release to burn off the rage boiling inside me. The Primeval¡¯s intent and desire to kill¡­ to put things to an end. I could feel it, the pull¡­ just tear through the city, track down anything that dared breathe in the shadows, hunt on pure instinct alone. It would be easy. Too easy. Yet, there could be unforeseen consequences. My friends, Carter, Eleanor, Frank, and the rest of them might pay the price. It held me back. Instead of plunging into chaos, I decided to take my time, and shop around for the right kind of trouble instead.

    Alex and Martin, though? Total busts. Neither of them had anything solid on Charles, which irritated me more than I expected. Still, my trip to Martin¡¯s bar wasn¡¯t a complete waste. I found myself... weirdly relating to Alex. Her words hit harder than I¡¯d like to admit, not because she was trying to get under my skin, but because they struck something deeper. A part of me¡­ the side I listened to in my early days resonated with her mindset. Harsh, cynical, but honest.

    She reminded me of how I used to think before I met the Chasse family, back when I kept myself locked away in that abandoned factory, hiding from the world. Back when the only thing I knew was loneliness and survival. I wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that. I wasn¡¯t sure if I liked seeing pieces of myself reflected in her. Only she was strong enough to maintain her distance from humans. She wasn¡¯t floating amongst them, developing relationships with those untainted by the darkness of the world. I think, in some way, Alex viewed it as weak. Not that I wanted those things¡­ but I still allowed them for myself.

    But I couldn¡¯t dwell on it, not yet. I still had a job to do, still had to make my presence known to the elders in the pits. As much as Alex¡¯s words swirled in my head, lingering longer than they should, I pushed forward. There was no time to get lost in my thoughts¡­ not yet.

    The early morning hours were still steeped in darkness, the sun nowhere near breaking the horizon. The world around me was draped in shadows, the kind that clung to every corner, untouched by the dim city lights. I ran, my feet pounding through the snow, untouched by the cold, my breath coming out in quick, steady clouds. As soon as I broke free from the city, I let go. The restraint I¡¯d been holding onto slipped, and I could feel the monster seep further into my body, not just behind my eyes.

    My muscles stretched, bulging unnaturally, infused with more of the Primeval¡¯s power than I was used to. There was a creaking, almost like my bones were expanding under the weight of something vast and ancient. Every lurch of my body granted me new height, each stride eating up the snowy ground beneath me. My legs elongated, my arms felt denser, the skin stretching over what felt like coiled steel beneath. My pace quickened, the world blurring around me as my limbs propelled me forward with a raw power that surged through every part of me.

    I wanted to stop, just for a moment, to look at what I had become; to take in the strangeness of my own body. But the pull to keep moving was stronger. Time was slipping, and I needed to make good on every second. Still, I could feel it. I wasn¡¯t fully transformed, but I wasn¡¯t human either. I existed in this strange in-between, some twisted amalgamation of myself and the monster I could fully unleash. Myoordrakien¡¯s presence pulsed inside me, pushing at the boundaries of my skin, waiting to break free.

    It was... unsettling. I had never been able to hold both forms like this before. Either I was myself, or I was the monster. But now, I was something else, something new, straddling the line between the human I once was and the unstoppable force I could become. My muscles roared with every step, and I felt invincible, yet tethered. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. I didn¡¯t know how much longer I could keep this balance, but for now, it was enough.

    As I tore through the landscape, vaulting over fallen trees and bounding between any obstacle in my way, something clicked in my head. The blackness in my eyes, the way the Primeval gripped me tighter every day¡­ it all felt new. Too new. There was a freshness to this power like it had been waiting for just the right moment to bloom. And I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this sudden intensity wasn¡¯t random. It had to be tied to something recent. Death.

    When he visited, laid out the task ahead of me, told me about the pits¡­ it had to be then. It had to be under my own power. The power of the monster. Not his. Death¡¯s influence couldn¡¯t touch me when I walked beneath the city, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe even now, just trying to get into the pits, his connection to me was a liability. I thought back to the moment he took the death blade from my hands. That¡¯s when things started changing. The moment he stripped me of it, something inside me began to shift, like a dam breaking, releasing more of the Primeval into me. Almost like the power Death granted me kept the Primeval in check¡­ feeding it, keeping it sated in some way.

    The blade was strange, able to morph into whatever tool its bearer needed. When John had it, it became a rifle, tied to his past as a man from what I could only guess were the Wild West days. He never said it outright, but the way he spoke, and the things he hinted at, gave me that feeling.

    When the gun came to me, though, it didn¡¯t stay a rifle for long. Almost instantly, it molded itself into a blade; familiar, like the ones I¡¯d used with the Chasse family. It held the same carved names and symbols of the rifle, like echoes of all who had wielded it before, but it felt personal, tailored to me. I wondered if I could will it into any shape I wanted someday, given enough time. But that didn¡¯t matter now, because I didn¡¯t have it anymore. Death had revoked it. The connection I once felt, that slight tug at the edges of my mind where it hovered just out of reach, was gone.

    Too much power. That had to be it. The blade carried too much of Death¡¯s signature, and if I held onto it, whatever was lurking down in the pits would sense him. It would know¡­ and run. So, Death took it back, leaving me with only the monster inside me. No shortcuts. No crutch. Just me and Myoordrakien, the Primeval. I had to learn more about it¡­ become more of it if I was going to succeed. The thought unsettled me¡­ diving deeper into the thing I feared most, the monster I was terrified of fully becoming. It was a dark abyss, one I wasn¡¯t sure I could crawl out of once I went down in there.

    Alex¡¯s words echoed in my mind, and no matter how much I hated hearing them, they were true. I was a monster. I¡¯d proven that over and over with the blood I spilled, the bones I crushed, and the gore I left behind in my wake. My struggles weren¡¯t proof of anything but that. It wasn¡¯t just in my eyes now, or the flash of teeth that appeared when I let my guard down. It was deeper than that, and every day I felt myself inching closer to the edge. The edge of losing who I was¡­ who I thought I once was. The real me. But for now, all I could do was keep running and hope that when it was over¡­ when I¡¯d made it through the pits, I was still something I could recognize. Something human.

    I had made it far out of the city to the Rockwoods Reservation, where the Talbot pack resided. I paced the woods outside of their single-story home. A real farmhouse kind of vibe you would see on a ranch or something back home. I sent out a pulse tuning my senses with it, detecting many different beating hearts inside. In all the time that I knew the Talbots I only interacted with Jane, and sometimes Bran. But Bran was dead now, killed by that massive fucking bat that came from Cliff Cave. The place that Allen Chasse summoned me when I was running across the country; name after name, vision after vision¡­ killing those death called for. Now that Bran was dead, Jane was literally the only Talbot I had much rapport with.

    I felt the Primeval back off, and I eased out of the strange transitional stage I was in, back to my full human form. Except for my black eyes and the new points I had on my four fangs. My clothes weren¡¯t ripped, but they did feel loose. I think they might have gotten stretched out a bit from the growth and extreme physical exertion at that stage. I was me again¡­ somewhat, and I was ready to talk.

    So, I waited. The night stretched out around me, cold and silent, but my mind was anything but still. My eyes tracked every movement around the house, every flicker of light in the windows, every shadow slipping past. I could hear the pattern of footsteps on the linoleum, muffled voices drifting through the air, and people moving in and out, but none of them were her. I didn¡¯t see Jane.

    At first, I thought maybe she was just inside, caught up in something, and any minute now, she¡¯d step out. But as the minutes ticked by, a knot of worry began to tighten in my chest. My stomach churned, the cold gnawing at me as I shifted my weight, trying to shake off the unease creeping in. Where was she?

    I couldn¡¯t help but let my thoughts wander back to her and Frank. They¡¯d been living together for a while now, no longer hiding their relationship. At first, they tried to keep things quiet, thinking it was best to keep their feelings under wraps. But that was mostly Jane. She was the one who believed it had to be this way, that keeping Frank at a distance was the right thing to do. Frank... he was different. If it were up to him, he¡¯d have stayed by her side his whole life, never once thinking of leaving. He loved her, deeply, and always had. But Jane... Jane had walked away.

    She thought it was best for him, to protect him. From what exactly, I wasn¡¯t sure, but knowing her, it was probably from herself. Jane had always carried this burden, this belief that she was dangerous, that her presence was somehow a risk to the people she cared about. So, she¡¯d cut ties. For a while, she¡¯d left Frank behind, thinking it was what he needed. But now they were back together, and I could see the way he looked at her¡­ like nothing in the world mattered more than her.

    Where Alex was a reflection of the version of myself from the beginning of my time as this monster, Jane was the more recent version. She had distanced herself¡­ pulling away like I had. However, she had found her way back, and she was still in it. Part of me¡­ wanted to talk to her¡­ maybe get her advice. See if she had any gems of wisdom for me like Alex had.

    But tonight, she was missing.

    A stray thought hit my mind, what if Autumn cut ties with me for some similar reason? What if she cast me out, with no word or warning, to protect me from something greater? What if that brush and Patrick''s secret connection to Peter Grimwood held some dark secrets that no one else was privy to? Autumn was the only one who knew and she was protecting me¡­

    I shook off the thoughts, hoping that was not the case. As much as I wanted there to be a reason, so I could find that reason and fucking slaughter it, the thought that she was happy held some value. I cared a lot about Autumn.. more than I ever told her or thought possible for me now. I would have done anything for her, just like I would have done anything for Vicky to keep her safe¡­ just as I did. If she was truly happy now, and that was probably the case from what it seemed, then I would leave her alone. It was strange, being caught in a bizarre position of caring enough for her that I just wanted her to be happy, even if that was not with me; but also caring so much for her and feeling our bond, knowing that what she had done was so outlandish and just did not make sense. There had to be some other kind of reason behind it, to explain why she was acting the way she was.

    She had never even spoken to me. She had just forgotten me completely, going back to Patrick with so much zeal... Never looking back to even acknowledge me or let me know she was over it. It did not make sense. But I resolved to accept that it didn''t have to make sense for me. If she wanted me gone¡­ wanted someone else¡­ I told her I''d leave. If it made sense to her... I didn¡¯t feel it was my place to question her. I was honestly¡­ deep in the darkest parts of what was left of my humanity, thankful for the time I had with her. She gave me something that I didn¡¯t think I would ever have again. Not since I had to leave Vicky and my whole life behind.

    I snapped back to reality, shaking off the dark spiral of thoughts that threatened to pull me under. The cold air bit at my skin, grounding me as I blinked, bringing the world around me into focus again. The sun had crept through the horizon, and the winter wonderland started to light up around me. That¡¯s when I saw her¡­ someone stepping out of Jane¡¯s front door. A young girl, maybe high school age, or perhaps early college. She moved with the ease of someone athletic, her stride confident and unhurried. Her build was solid but lean, like someone who spent their days outside, running or playing sports. There was something about her that struck me as familiar.

    She shared a striking resemblance to Jane. Not quite as tall or imposing as the alpha werewolf, but the family resemblance was clear. Even from a distance, I could see her piercing blue eyes that were set apart from Jane¡¯s light brown, though they were set against a rich, deep tone of skin that hinted at Native American heritage. Her straight black hair flowed down her back, catching the faint glimmers of light that leaked through the trees, adding to the impression that she belonged to Jane¡¯s lineage. The contrast of her blue eyes against Jane''s brown was intriguing, but the connection was undeniable with everything else. I didn¡¯t know her name or where she fits into the family tree, but I was certain she was close to Jane; someone important.

    Without hesitation, I made my move.

    The darkness of the trees swallowed me as I slipped through the lingering shadows, moving swiftly, silently. I appeared beside her like a wraith, my figure suddenly materializing from the early dawn. I was still a good ten feet away, giving her some space, but I knew the way I had come out of nowhere would send a jolt through her system. And I wasn¡¯t wrong.

    The moment she sensed my presence, her eyes widened in shock. Her breath caught in her throat. I could see the exact second she realized I was there¡­ her body stiffened, and her head whipped around, eyes almost bulging out of her skull when she caught sight of me. Even though I hadn¡¯t closed the gap entirely, my sudden appearance in the sparse shadows was enough to set her on edge, the air between us crackling with the tension of her alarm.

    My senses quickly informed me that this girl was definitely a werewolf. She held the family curse just like Jane. Her heart kicked up a notch with a powerful thud that ramped up from her normal pace but did not skyrocket like a terrified human. It ramped up to a new set speed that sounded like a booming metronome within her core. It was the heart of a cursed beast surging its primal power through her body. It was her own version of a fight or flight response.

    She turned her body quickly, superhumanly so, and swung an open hand at me. It was coming for my face, and I let it get pretty close before I snatched it out of the air. I just gripped her wrist and stopped her momentum. We stood there locked in a strange greeting. She could feel my speed and the strength that held her in place, knowing that whatever I was she had no chance against me. I was gauging what I witnessed in that quick strike. She held her hand in a way that made me think claws or maybe talons, like mine, would come out and visibly extend. However, no such claws erupted. It almost seemed like she was acting and moving the way she would in her werewolf form, but the physical attributes just were not there.

    I moved quickly, trying to defuse the tension hanging thick in the air between us. The girl''s eyes were wide, her body coiled like a spring, ready to attack or flee at any moment. I raised my free hand slowly, palm open, keeping my voice low and steady. "My name is Sam," I said, watching her closely. "I know Jane, and I¡¯m here to talk to her."

    My eyes flicked to her hand, still held in a half-raised defensive position, and I gently released her wrist, giving her space. Slowly, she retracted her arm, though the wariness in her eyes didn¡¯t fade immediately.

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to hurt anybody. Is she here?¡± I asked, keeping my voice calm, trying to soften the sharpness of the situation. The girl stared at me for a moment, as if sizing me up, taking slow, deliberate breaths to steady herself. I could hear her heartbeat, still rapid but gradually slowing, the rush of adrenaline easing as she composed herself.

    ¡°I¡¯m Abigail,¡± she finally said, her voice strained but steady. Her hand lowered fully now, and she took a step back, giving herself a few feet of space. The tension still lingered, thick and palpable, but she wasn¡¯t retreating. Not yet, anyway. She knew I was a threat on some level, but whether she knew exactly who¡­ or what, I was, I couldn¡¯t tell. Her eyes flicked over me cautiously, studying my face in the low light of her front yard.

    ¡°Jane told us about you...¡± she added after a pause. ¡°She says you¡¯re unusual. Different. We¡¯re not supposed to interact with you without her.¡±

    I frowned, catching the hesitation in her voice, the way she seemed to be fighting some internal command. ¡°Who said that? Jane?¡± I asked, watching the way she shifted uncomfortably, the weight of rules pulling at her like invisible chains. It was clear now that Jane had given orders. I could sense the battle in Abigail¡¯s mind, her desire to follow whatever law had been laid down.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Abigail confirmed, her lips twitching into a brief smile, though it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°None of us are supposed to be around you alone. She said if we ever had to deal with you, she¡¯d be the one to... work with you.¡± There was a flicker of amusement in her voice now, a thin veil of humor to cut through the awkwardness. ¡°I guess she never expected you to show up for a house call.¡±

    I shrugged, trying to play it off. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve never really needed to just drop by,¡± I admitted, keeping my tone casual. ¡°But I wanted to ask her some questions.¡± My gaze softened a bit as I looked at her. "Maybe you have some knowledge I could use?"

    Abigail¡¯s curiosity sparked instantly, her shoulders relaxing slightly. ¡°Like what?¡± she asked, momentarily forgetting herself, drawn in by the question. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in thought.

    ¡°I thought I wasn¡¯t supposed to talk to you,¡± I teased lightly, letting my black eyes show more in the dim morning light. They glinted darkly, giving her a glimpse of the Primeval power lurking beneath my skin. The shift in her expression was immediate¡­ her grin faded, and her posture straightened with a sudden awareness. She caught herself, nodding stiffly, the playful moment gone. The physical response to survive crept back in.

    Without another word, she pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed. I could hear snippets of her conversation, the sharp, quiet exchanges as she spoke into the phone, her eyes darting back to me every few seconds. ¡°No, he¡¯s not.¡± ¡°Yes, he is.¡± ¡°He looks... weird.¡± ¡°Black eyes... really strong.¡±

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    A minute later, Abigail walked back over to me, her face now carefully neutral. ¡°Jane will be home soon,¡± she said, her voice clipped, businesslike. Then, without another glance, she turned and headed back inside, leaving me standing there.

    I watched her retreat, my eyes drifting toward the darkened windows of the house. I could hear the faint murmur of voices inside, the way they whispered about the ¡°creepy man¡± outside, the one Jane had warned them all about. It was almost comical, in a way, like I had become some sort of bedtime story; a monster lurking in the shadows, someone they¡¯d been told never to seek out, never to speak to, or even acknowledge.

    It would¡¯ve been funny if it didn¡¯t sting so much.

    I let out a low breath, my shoulders sinking under the weight of it. That¡¯s what I was to them¡­ a monster. No matter how much I tried to fit in, no matter how hard I fought to hold on to whatever scraps of humanity I had left, I was still something to be feared¡­ by all. Even this pack of werewolves. Something that made young girls and children hide behind the walls of their homes, whispering warnings and stories about the thing outside. The thing that shouldn¡¯t be there.

    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh to myself, though the sound was hollow, empty. Another reminder of what I was becoming, no matter how hard I tried to fight it. That deep part of me, the part that still longed to be human. It felt the sting.

    About half an hour later, the sound of packed snow crunching under tires signaled Jane¡¯s arrival. I looked up as the rusty, beaten-up truck rolled into view. It was Frank¡¯s truck; the old bucket of bolts he was so proud of. I had ridden in it more times than I could count, back in the early days when the Chasse family and I still had some semblance of normalcy. When I worked for their company and was living a ruse, pretending to be human.

    The truck came to a stop, and I saw Jane climb out of the passenger side, her eyes immediately finding mine. A second later, the driver¡¯s side door opened, and Frank hopped out. He looked almost exactly the same as I remembered; tall, broad, and muscular, though there was a little more weight around his deeper muscles. Not enough to slow him down, just enough to make his presence even more solid. I could hear his voice in my head from back then, "Just enough to throw some weight around." That was Frank¡­ always joking, always warm and welcoming to me.

    Frank and Jane walked toward me slowly, Jane¡¯s eyes never leaving mine. There was no hostility in her gaze, but there was caution. I could see the weariness that came with knowing what I was, what I had become in everyone¡¯s eyes as I did the things I did; with little to no explanation. She was unsure why I¡¯d come to her directly, not through Frank or the rest of the Chasse family. Jane and I had never had much direct interaction before. Frank had always been the intermediary¡­ or Carter. But¡­ she had brought Frank, and now things would get more heavy.

    ¡°Sam,¡± she greeted me, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen or heard much about you in a while. Just bits and pieces from Frank, but even that¡¯s not much.¡± She motioned towards the lumbering man, who stared at me silently, trying to gauge what to say. Trying to figure out why my eyes looked the way they did.

    ¡°Hey, Jane. It¡¯s good to see you,¡± I replied, my voice rougher than I intended. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been keeping my distance¡­ ever since Autumn¡­¡± I trailed off, the words sticking in my throat. The emotions I¡¯d been holding back for so long surged up, threatening to break free. I clenched my teeth, struggling to keep it together, and let out a sharp breath. ¡°Once she cut ties, I thought it¡¯d be best to stay away. I know what I am, and I don¡¯t want to¡­ force my way into a situation, because¡­ well, who could stop me?¡± I forced a laugh.

    Jane¡¯s expression softened, and she exchanged a glance with Frank, who gave me a small nod of understanding.

    Frank finally spoke, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I figured. Even Carter thought you¡¯d probably put some distance between everyone after what Autumn did.¡± Frank''s words held back a lot of emotion. Even through all the shit that had happened, he still saw me standing in front of him. He could see through the black eyes and the menacing aura that rolled off of me. I was still the same to him.

    It hurt to think that was true¡­ knowing what I hadn¡¯t told them yet. That Death itself was my master, and the monster inside was more ancient than anything they''d ever known.

    His words hit harder than I expected. Jane also looked genuinely saddened, though she tried to cover it up quickly. She shifted on her feet, then spoke more openly than I¡¯d anticipated. ¡°I really am sorry about what she did, Sam. So is Frank. None of it makes sense... if I¡¯m honest. It all happened so fast, right after everything with Peter. I think we¡¯re all still trying to figure out what happened with him, that he¡¯s really gone. And the aftermath¡­ it¡¯s been a lot.¡±

    ¡°We lost a lot, Sam. Now, it feels like we lost you too¡­¡± Frank shook his head. ¡°You aren¡¯t slipping away again are you?¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°No. There¡¯s just something I need to do¡­ have to do!¡±

    ¡°With Seth?¡± Frank asked, his strong demeanor like glass with this question. He was worried about me, and how I was taking the news of my brother''s arrival in the city. He was more worried about me than the chaos Seth was causing for his own family.

    I looked back at him with surprise, realizing he thought I was still dealing with it. That''s when I realized, they didn¡¯t know. I never told them; Carter, Frank, none of them that I had dealt with that problem.

    ¡°Seth¡¯s gone,¡± I told him. ¡°I took care of that,¡± I assured him with confidence in my voice.

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Frank cocked his head to the side.

    Even Jane looked surprised by my words. She must have been in the loop on everything, knowing just how badly they all thought I would take my brother''s arrival.

    ¡°I went to him¡­ showed myself. He knows¡­ knows that I¡¯m alive. He doesn¡¯t know everything. I kept a lot from him. But I explained that it was me who used his information¡­ his passport,¡± I shook my head. ¡°Like a dumbass. But he went home¡­ for now. I have to go back there eventually¡­ piece together whatever I can.¡±

    ¡°So, he knows¡­ they know you''re still alive?¡± Frank asked incredulously. Never thinking once that I might do what I had done.

    I nodded. ¡°Yeah. I had to tell him. I needed him out of this city. I couldn¡¯t let him get hurt because of my mistake.¡±

    ¡°Will he tell the rest of your family?¡± Jane was curious.

    ¡°Honestly¡­ I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think so. We were pretty similar. I think just knowing¡­ he¡¯ll be able to live and breathe easier. I think he¡¯ll wait until he hears back from me before he tells anyone anything.¡±

    Frank finally stepped forward, his massive frame towering over me for a moment before he pulled me into a rough hug. ¡°Damn, it¡¯s good to see you,¡± he said, his voice low. There was no hesitation in his embrace, just that solid, unshakable strength that had always been a part of him.

    I returned the hug, the tension in my chest loosening slightly. ¡°You too, Frank. It feels like it''s been too long.¡±

    He let go and gave me a once-over, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to assess just how much had changed since the last time we saw each other. ¡°A lot¡¯s happened, man,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°More than we ever expected.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, my voice quiet. ¡°Things have changed, haven¡¯t they?¡± I nodded, the weight of his words sinking deep. ¡°I know. I¡¯ve been trying to stay away because I don¡¯t want to make things worse. But I can¡¯t lie, Frank. I miss how things used to be. Before I became this... thing. Before it started¡­ taking more ground from me.¡±

    ¡°Is that what the eyes are about?¡± Frank asked, motioning toward my black orbs, inspecting me slowly.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ just another side effect¡­ I guess. I''m not sure if it''s permanent, or what. But I can''t make them go away.¡± I gritted my teeth as I tried¡­ but nothing.

    Frank clapped me on the shoulder, his grip firm. ¡°You¡¯re still you, Sam. I don¡¯t care what look like, you¡¯re still the same guy I welcomed into this family. I mean, sure, you¡¯re a little more... intense now.¡± He grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but there was no denying the truth behind his words. ¡°But we¡¯re family. Always have been; the moment you saved Eleanor.¡±

    Jane stood quietly beside us, her arms crossed as she watched the exchange. There was something like relief in her eyes... relief that Frank and I could still connect after everything that had happened. ¡°Why don¡¯t we sit down?¡± she suggested, gesturing to the front yard.

    ¡°What happened with Peter, Sam? We know he¡¯s dead, but how?¡± Frank asked as we all dusted off a place for us to sit on the frost-covered porch. The cold of the chair''s surfaces crept through our clothing, sending a biting chill into our flesh.

    I breathed slowly, nodding to myself. ¡°There is a lot I know now¡­ and a lot I want to tell you all. But it''s¡­ heavy.¡± I warned them.

    ¡°Like what?¡± Jane asked, feeling the weight of my tone. She knew that, if I said it was heavy, it must be something real bad.

    ¡°This thing I turn into¡­ it has a name¡­ a purpose. It has a master too. Someone who has been¡­ grooming me in a way. Ever since I was cursed to live this life.¡± I just started pouring out the secrets, hoping to talk to someone about all this fucked up shit. I ignored the side of me that said to hide it all.

    ¡°Whatever it is, Sam, it¡¯ll be alright¡­¡± Frank assured me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s true,¡± I thought aloud. ¡°I told Autumn first¡­ she didn¡¯t take it well. That was the last time I talked to her. After I told her the truth, she flocked back towards Patrick¡­¡± I told the silent pair.

    ¡°You told Autumn this already? When?¡± Frank asked, truly confused.

    ¡°When I first came back¡­ from somewhere else. It¡¯s hard to explain... without telling you other things first. But when I returned, we talked. I had to tell her the truth, to be honest, and let her know what I was. Then, she could decide if it was too much. I guess I found out.¡± I thought back on my conversation with her.

    ¡°She¡¯s never mentioned anything like that,¡± Frank spoke up. ¡°Neither Carter nor Eleanor either. If you ever found anything out, we all would have known. Not to say we wouldn¡¯t keep a secret or something, but obviously, we keep our internal family as informed as possible on important shit like this,¡± Frank looked at Jane, true confusion and frantic thoughts written on his face. ¡°Why would she not tell us?¡±

    As we sat in the morning light of Jane¡¯s front yard, the air thick with the weight of the conversation that had yet to happen, I decided to just do it. I was going to tell them. This had ended horribly the last time¡­ with Autumn, but maybe this way I could see if it really was the knowledge that repelled her.

    Frank leaned against the chilled armrest of his porch chair, arms crossed, while Jane sat nearby, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. They knew something was coming, something that I hadn¡¯t yet said. They could see it in the way I focused my black eyes, preparing myself, fighting with an internal struggle.

    I shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through my hair, pushing my hood back and off my head. I was unsure how to start. The truth I was about to lay on them wasn¡¯t something easily spoken. It had taken me forever to wrap my head around it, and even now, I still didn¡¯t fully understand it. But they needed to know.

    ¡°There¡¯s something I have to tell you,¡± I began, my voice low, heavy. ¡°Something¡­ you¡¯re not going to believe at first, but it¡¯s the truth.¡±

    Frank raised an eyebrow, his usually confident demeanor slipping as uncertainty crept into his expression. Jane stayed silent, her arms crossed, waiting.

    ¡°You¡¯ve both seen what I¡¯ve become,¡± I continued, gesturing to myself. ¡°The black eyes, the talons, the strength. But it¡¯s not just a physical transformation. What¡¯s inside me¡­it¡¯s not¡­ natural. Not even supernatural. This is something¡­ beyond all that.¡±

    Frank¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°We figured that much, Sam. You¡¯re different¡­ sure, but we¡¯ve all seen werewolves and vampires; hell, we¡¯ve seen things that aren¡¯t even recorded in any bestiary or record of anyone we know. What¡¯s so different about you? You¡¯re just something that hasn¡¯t been pinned down yet.¡±

    I took a deep breath, steadying myself. ¡°It¡¯s not just a monster inside me, Frank. It¡¯s something called¡­ a Primeval. It has a name¡­ but it''s not really words. I heard it once¡­ the noise sounded like Myoordrakien. But¡­¡± I searched for a way to explain it. ¡°With like a lot more power, spoken slower, with noises I don¡¯t think I can make.¡±

    Both Frank and Jane flinched at the name, their eyes widening in shock.

    ¡°Myoordrakien,¡± I repeated, the name rolling off my tongue with a weight I could feel in my bones. ¡°He¡¯s ancient. Older than anything you¡¯ve ever encountered, older than the monsters that roam this city, or the ones below it. It¡¯s older than anything you¡¯ve ever read about¡­ or heard about. It was a part of something primordial, something from a time when the world was still¡­ shaping itself.¡±

    Jane¡¯s face paled as she processed what I was saying. ¡°What¡­ what does that mean? How did you hear this?¡± she asked quietly. ¡°What is he?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not just some creature, Jane,¡± I explained, my voice soft but firm. ¡°Not in the way you all think. He is a physical being... but more than that...he¡¯s a force. A being of destruction, doom¡­ annihilation. He was born at a time when life was raw, and untamed, when parts of our world weren¡¯t just aspects and¡­ but a physical presence; a force that swept through everything. Myoordrakien was part of that.¡±

    Frank uncrossed his arms, ¡°You¡¯re saying this thing inside you¡­ it¡¯s from before everything?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s not something that just came into existence recently. He¡¯s been around for longer than I can comprehend. But¡­¡± I braced myself. ¡°There¡¯s another thing. He¡¯s not the one pulling the strings.¡±

    Jane looked at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. ¡°The entity¡­ from the fields? The one Eleanor saw when you took her there¡­ traded your life for hers?¡±

    I nodded. I felt my heart thud in my chest as I prepared to drop the real bombshell. ¡°Death,¡± I said, my voice flat. ¡°Death itself.¡±

    The silence that followed was deafening. Frank and Jane stared at me, mouths slightly open, as if they hadn¡¯t heard me right. They didn¡¯t move. They didn¡¯t look at each other. They just sat there, thinking in silence.

    ¡°Death,¡± Frank echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Like¡­ Death?¡±

    I nodded again, feeling the weight of what I was saying. ¡°It was Death who reached out to me, who took my life and cursed me, through Jon¡­ the previous host of Myoordrakien. The Primeval¡¯s power might be inside me, but Death is the one who controls it¡­ contains it. Death¡¯s the one who gives me visions, who tells me the names of those I¡¯m supposed to hunt¡­ and kill.¡±

    Jane¡¯s eyes were wide in disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re saying¡­ Death itself cursed you? Made you¡­ it''s killer? You work for Death?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I admitted, my voice hoarse. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m saying. I¡¯m Death¡¯s weapon. His hand in the physical world. The one who carries out his will in places he cannot enter.¡±

    Frank let out a breath he didn¡¯t know he was holding, running a hand over his face. He stood from his Chair. ¡°Jesus, Sam,¡± he muttered, pacing a few steps. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s insane.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I said quietly. ¡°But it¡¯s the truth. Death chose me. Cursed me to carry out his work. I see people, names, faces¡­ and I know they¡¯re marked. I know I¡¯m the one who has to make sure they die.¡±

    "Is that how you finally killed Peter?" Frank asked, trying to piece things together.

    I nodded slowly.

    Jane took a step closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and pity. ¡°Why you, Sam? Why did Death choose you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted, the frustration clear in my voice. ¡°I¡¯ve asked myself that a thousand times. Maybe I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe I did something that caught his attention. But all I know is that I¡¯m bound to him now. And there¡¯s no way out.¡± I remembered something, ¡°Jon, my predecessor, said something to me once. Something about my¡­ willpower¡­ or something.¡± It was hard to remember at the moment. ¡°Said he knew my name¡­ that I was next in line to carry the Primeval inside me. He said he knew my name for a long time.¡±

    Frank stopped pacing, turning to face me again. ¡°You told Autumn this?¡±

    I nodded, feeling a knot tighten in my chest at the mention of her name. ¡°Yeah. I told her everything. About Myoordrakien, about Death. She¡­ she didn¡¯t take it well.¡±

    Jane frowned, worry creeping into her features. ¡°What did she say?¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t say much, honestly,¡± I said, my voice heavy with guilt. ¡°She just¡­ looked at me like I was a monster. She actually got up and fled away from me. Maybe she¡¯s right. I mean, I am one, aren¡¯t I¡­ a monster?¡±

    Frank¡¯s eyes locked onto mine, fierce, unwavering, as if he could will his belief into me with just a look. His grip on my shoulder tightened, and I could feel the callouses on his hand, the roughness of a life lived through countless battles, both physical and emotional. He leaned in closer, his voice low but powerful, a weight behind every word that echoed deeper than any of the night¡¯s shadows around us.

    ¡°No,¡± Frank said again, his voice firm with a finality that left no room for argument. ¡°You¡¯re not just some monster, Sam. You¡¯re still you¡­ still, the same guy we¡¯ve known¡­ the same guy that slung concrete with me at those construction sites. The same guy who hunted with us¡­ trained with us, ate with us, laughed with us. This thing inside you¡­ and Death¡­ it doesn¡¯t change that. You¡¯ve been this way the whole damn time I¡¯ve known you. Putting a name to it now doesn¡¯t change anything.¡±

    He let that sit for a moment, his gaze searching mine, looking for the part of me that could still believe in what he was saying. But I felt hollow, lost under the weight of what I had told them. How could I still be the same person when I had this thing lurking inside me, waiting for the next command from Death, for the next name to hunt down? Waiting to slip more between the bars of its cage to take over my body in even more twisted ways.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about what you¡¯ve got inside,¡± Frank continued, his voice softening just a touch, though his resolve didn¡¯t falter. ¡°It¡¯s about what you¡¯ve done with it. You¡¯ve saved us, saved our family¡­ saved others too. You think that¡¯s nothing? You¡¯ve done things no one else could do. Hell, I don¡¯t give a damn what this Myoordrakien is called. It¡¯s just a name. What matters is that you¡¯ve used it to help.¡±

    Frank sighed, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he stared at the ground for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He wasn¡¯t trying to sugarcoat it; he knew how heavy this all was, how impossible it sounded. But when he looked up again, his face was full of that stubbornness I¡¯d come to expect from him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong,¡± he added, giving my shoulder another squeeze, his fingers digging in like he was anchoring me to the moment. ¡°This shit is heavy. It¡¯s more than any of us can probably wrap our heads around, but that doesn¡¯t change a damn thing about who you are to me, or to Jane, or to anyone who knows you. This thing? This Primeval or whatever the hell it is? It doesn¡¯t change shit.¡±

    His hand clapped down on my shoulder again with a familiar, reassuring weight, like it had so many times before when things were hard, when I needed grounding. But this time, the heaviness inside me¡­ the crushing presence of Myoordrakien, the constant pull of Death¡­ it made that familiar gesture feel distant, like I was watching myself from behind glass, unable to connect with who I once was.

    I shook my head, my throat tightening as the words stumbled out. ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like I¡¯m me anymore, Frank. Not with how much I feel it, how it¡¯s always trying to take over.¡±

    Frank¡¯s grip on my shoulder didn¡¯t budge, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes now. He knew I wasn¡¯t just talking about some passing feeling. Myoordrakien wasn¡¯t a wolf or a vampire hunger¡­ this thing was primal, elemental. It was destruction.

    Jane, who had been silent, stepped closer, her hand gently resting on my arm. The touch was soft, warm, and human. I could almost feel her battling the urge to recoil from me. I couldn¡¯t blame her. ¡°Sam¡­¡± she began, her voice calm, though there was an edge of fear there. ¡°We¡¯ll figure this out. Whatever it is, we¡¯ll find a way. You¡¯re not alone in this.¡±

    I looked at her, feeling the depth of her words, but also knowing the weight of what she was saying. ¡°Jane¡­ I¡¯ve seen what this thing can do. You¡¯ve seen a part of it too. It wants death. And Death¡­ he¡¯s always watching. Always waiting to tell me who¡¯s next.¡±

    Jane¡¯s eyes flickered with understanding, and then with something darker. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like,¡± she said softly, her fingers pressing against my arm as if to make me feel the gravity of her words. ¡°I¡¯ve battled against my curse since the day it took hold. The wolf inside me claws at me, Sam. It wants to feed, to tear apart flesh and consume everything in its path. Not just the killers or the evil ones of the world. Everyone. It doesn¡¯t care about who¡¯s innocent or not.¡±

    Her confession hung in the air between us, raw and painful. Jane, the one who always seemed to have a handle on her curse, was telling me how close she teetered on the edge every day.

    ¡°I understand what you¡¯re fighting,¡± she whispered. ¡°But you don¡¯t have to fight it alone. You can¡¯t fight it alone.¡±

    Frank was nodding beside her, his face softer now, less of the blunt strength he was known for, and more of the deep care he had for his family. For me.

    ¡°I know you think this thing inside you makes you dangerous, Sam,¡± Frank said, his voice quieter now. ¡°And maybe it does. But that doesn¡¯t make you any less of a person. You¡¯re still here, still fighting. And as long as you¡¯re fighting, we¡¯re with you. All of us; Carter, El, Wayland, and Clara¡­¡±

    I stared at the ground, my hands clenched into fists. ¡°I told Autumn,¡± I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. ¡°I told her all this¡­ why did she react the way she did? You guys¡­ this is more than I ever thought I would get for telling this secret. Why did she reject it?¡±

    Jane¡¯s hand tensed on my arm, and Frank looked at me sharply. There was a long silence as that truth settled over us. Frank exhaled slowly, his face tight with worry, while Jane¡¯s expression softened with a mixture of sympathy and guilt.

    ¡°She¡¯s scared,¡± Jane finally said, her voice gentle. ¡°She¡¯s confused. We all are. After everything with Peter¡­ losing Annabelle, Bartley, and Zeke¡­ we were all hit hard. Maybe she just found out your secret too soon. Everything was too fresh¡­ maybe¡±.

    Frank shook his head, ¡°No. That doesn¡¯t make sense. Autumn wouldn¡¯t have ghosted you like that. And she definitely wouldn¡¯t have kept this a secret from us.¡± Frank looked down at his feet. Then he pulled out his phone. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong. This isn¡¯t right. I need to call Carter.¡±

 Chapter 70 - The Problem

    I was still sitting on the front porch of Jane¡¯s house. Jane, Frank, and I waited on Carter and Eleanor¡¯s arrival. After I spilled the beans on my true nature, and talked about the reaction Autumn gave, it was clear that something was wrong with her. The way Frank told it, there is no way in hell she would have kept this kind of shit to herself. She would have told the family. No boyfriend or love interest would have ever been enough to keep this kind of information from them. The Autumn he knew, the girl that he watched grow up, his little niece, would have never done what she did¡­ it carried too much weight to be ignored.

    My blood pressure was starting to skyrocket. Frank¡¯s reaction and ideas were confirming everything I had thought... that it wasn¡¯t just me. Something wasn''t right with Autumn, and it was not just from learning the news I had shared with her that night I confided in her. I berated myself internally, knowing I should have pushed harder, asked more questions, got more people involved. But it was too late for any of that.

    First, I had another quick reunion to get through. Carter and Eleanor were coming. And it was only a matter of time before I saw the looks on their faces when they found out Death was behind my power. I hoped for the best.

    As we waited for them to arrive, Jane and Frank stood from their chairs. And Jane offered me something that I was too shocked to accept at first.

    ¡°Let''s go inside. No need for us to sit out in the cold like this,¡± she said, waving me towards her front door.

    I stared at her, shooting glances between her and Frank. For a moment I thought maybe she just meant Frank, but then they were both staring at me. They had uncertain looks on their faces like they weren''t sure what I was doing. I wasn¡¯t sure what they were doing.

    ¡°Oh... do you mean me too?¡± I asked, knowing that she was certainly not offering me an invitation inside her home. There''s no way she would have willingly invited me, the definition of a monstrous killer, inside her home. Into the place where I could hear small children and other people living.

    ¡°Of course, Sam, what do you think?¡± Jane assured me.

    I waited for a second before responding, struggling to accept this invitation. ¡°Even when I was talking with Abigail earlier, it seemed like people are watching out for me. Like I''m not supposed to get too close. I just assumed¡­¡±

    Jane sighed. ¡°I did lay out certain rules a while back, when we were first getting to know you. But after everything... I think we''re past all that now. I know you''ve got something inside you, but so do we.¡± She motioned towards the house and all the people inside. ¡°I can see the same struggle in you that we all share. It may not be a werewolf, but it''s the same battle. Trying to maintain what you remember about yourself, while it tries to claw out of you.¡± She spoke deep from her heart. ¡°I''m not worried about you hurting any of my family. Those fears died off a long time ago¡­ when you brought Bran back to us.¡± Jane chuckled to herself lightly, ¡°Honestly you''ll probably fit in better here than anywhere else.¡±

    I smiled at the thought. It made me feel welcome, especially coming from her.

    With that, I stood slowly, really chewing on everything she had just said. I walked in through the doors of her home for the first time. Another friend, another group of people for me to get to know. It was something I never expected.

    Now just because Jane was willing didn''t mean everyone was going to just flock to me. Most of her family hid away in rooms, still afraid of the unknown beast that lurked inside their home. A few did stay within eyesight. The one I just met, Abigail, two small boys that looked close in age and so similar they had to be brothers. And then another little girl watching cartoons in the front living room. She seemed oblivious to everything going on. She didn''t care about the events under the roof. It made me laugh a little. When we first walked in and started talking, I saw the little girl look over at us with fury in her eyes, then she grabbed the remote and turned the volume up a few notches.

    Abigail, in her unexpected hospitality, offered me food, which I politely declined, though I could tell she¡¯d prepared it with care. I sat together with them all, waiting for the Chasses to arrive, the air thick with unspoken tension. Our conversation turned to darker matters¡­ Death and the Primeval force dwelling inside me. They had questions, of course, their eyes searching mine for answers I hadn¡¯t yet given. I could see the uncertainty beneath their composed exteriors, their need to understand outweighing the unease my presence must have stirred in them.

    I told them everything I knew; how the Primeval was not just a presence but an embodiment of destruction itself, how it changed me, and the toll it was taking on my mind and body. As I spoke, I could feel their silent reactions: the subtle widening of eyes, the brief exchange of worried glances, the way their hands clenched just a little too tightly in their laps. They were kind, but I knew the gravity of what I was saying shook them to their core.

    I hoped that by being open, I could ease their anxiety, at least once the initial shock wore off. Still, no matter how accepting they tried to be, I could sense the weight of it all pressing on them. They were doing their best to shield me from their true feelings, trying to save me from the rejection I¡¯d felt before¡­ from Autumn. They didn¡¯t want me to think I was unwelcome, even though this was a burden no one should have to bear.

    It didn¡¯t take long before the deep rumble of the familiar black suburban reached my ears, long before it appeared in the snow-dusted driveway of the Talbot residence. The sound cut through the quiet, the heavy tires crunching against the icy road as it approached. My heightened senses had picked them up from down the road, the distinct hum of the engine registering like a distant warning. The faint scent of exhaust mixed with the cold winter air, creeping toward us.

    A moment later, Jane noticed it too. She shifted, her eyes darting toward the window, and then to Frank, who sat across the room. The tension in the room thickened, a quiet readiness settling over us as the Chasses drew near.

    Jane¡¯s gaze met mine, and we exchanged a brief but knowing look, a silent agreement passing between us. The weight of what was coming hung heavy in the air. With a slight nod, she confirmed what we both already knew. "They''re about to be here," she said quietly, her voice steady but laced with anticipation, as she turned toward Frank.

    I stood abruptly, my anxiety driving me to pace the room, the tension gnawing at my insides. This was a critical moment. How would they react? How would they feel once I laid it all bare? The truth¡­ that the Grim Reaper himself was the one I was bound to, and that the monster inside me wasn¡¯t just some creature but something ancient, powerful, and merciless; something so dark it made me the worst thing they''d ever laid eyes on.

    The weight of it hit me like a freight train every time I thought about it. I stopped for a moment, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath, trying to center myself, both mentally and emotionally. This was bigger than any confession I¡¯d ever made, and I prayed¡­ silently, desperately¡­ that Carter and Eleanor would take it as well as Frank and Jane had. But the fear lingered, a gnawing doubt clawing at the edges of my mind. What if they reacted like Autumn? What if they took it all in with strained smiles and kind words, only to vanish from my life like ghosts, never looking back?

    Jane moved toward the front door, her steps purposeful as she prepared to welcome the two people I trusted most in this new reality. As she reached for the handle, Frank inched up beside me. He nudged me with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, trying to cut through the suffocating tension in the room.

    "It''ll be all right, man," he said, his voice calm, reassuring. "Carter and El? They¡¯ll get it. If anyone can handle this kind of shit, it¡¯s them. I don¡¯t know why you''re so worked up."

    He laughed, the sound light but genuine. ¡°El is basically your fucking cheerleader, anyway. It doesn¡¯t matter what you are, she¡¯s not turning her back on you.¡± He gave my back a solid pat, his confidence almost infectious.

    I wished I could believe him just by his words. I really did. God, I hoped he was right.

    <hr>

    "And that''s everything," I said, my voice quieter than expected, as I watched Carter and Eleanor. Their expressions had been tight the whole time we spoke, but they tried to hold themselves together¡­ breathing slowly, deliberately, as if the air was too thick with the weight of what I¡¯d just unloaded on them. It wasn¡¯t just controlled; it was strained, as though they were holding back something darker beneath the surface. The stress in their eyes was undeniable, the silent exchange of glances between them spoke louder than anything they could have said. They were grappling with the enormity of what I had revealed; that Death stood behind me.

    Everything I had ever told Autumn, Frank, and Jane now lay bare between us: no more secrets, no more omissions. I had been speaking for hours, laying it all out in Jane¡¯s living room, recounting every harrowing detail. The silence that followed felt suffocating. Frank and Jane were speechless at parts that they heard that I hadn¡¯t told them yet.

    Eleanor¡¯s eyes stayed fixed on me, her brow furrowing deeper with every word that echoed in her mind. She clenched her hands in her lap, knuckles white, as if bracing herself against the flood of information she was still trying to process. Carter sat motionless, his jaw tight, the rise and fall of his chest too slow, too deliberate as if he were counting each breath. Willing himself to remain composed. But there was no mistaking the storm brewing just beneath the surface. His fingers drummed lightly on the arm of the chair, a habit I had never seen him do before.

    A part of it all, I think, that was making things worse was the fact that the whole time we spoke they had to stare into my black eyes. They didn¡¯t ask what it was about, but I made sure to tell them about the encroaching invasion that the Primeval was waging inside me. I told them about how Death had taken his blade back, allowing me the sole power of Myoordrakien to carry out the next task. It was just another drop in the bucket for me, as I vowed to unveil everything to my friends.

    Jane had quietly taken charge at one point, sensing the gravity of the situation. She¡¯d sent the kids out; Abigail, the two boys, and the youngest, Cindy. Cindy had thrown a little fit, stomping her foot in frustration when she had to leave her cartoons behind, but she eventually complied under her aunt¡¯s firm gaze. All of them were Jane¡¯s nieces and nephews, her brother¡¯s kids; I had figured out when they called her Aunt Jane. I had wondered where their parents were, but those questions seemed trivial compared to the weight hanging in the air now.

    I could see the turmoil in Carter¡¯s eyes as he finally glanced at Eleanor, a wordless exchange passing between them. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was fear, anger, or just exhaustion from carrying this new burden. They were trying to hold it together for my sake, but the cracks were showing, and I could feel the tremor of uncertainty threatening to break through their carefully maintained composure.

    "I know this is... a lot," I said softly, trying to cut through the heavy silence. Eleanor swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper when she finally spoke.

    "More than a lot..." she murmured, her hands shaking ever so slightly, as if the reality of everything was just starting to sink in.

    My voice felt hoarse after talking for so long, uninterrupted. Explaining the depths of power I was entangled with. The places I''ve been, the dimensions I''d seen, the beings and primeval that I had killed in that other place. The Unseen Primeval that granted Peter his ¡°get-out-of-jail-free card¡± from Death. I detailed my time in that place and told them about the heat, the razor-sharp landscape, and the gargantuan size of the true primeval. When I told them about how my own Primeval took control of my body and turned me into a titan of walking flesh and bone, they were struck with disbelief. I think it was too much¡­ needing to see it for themselves to truly grasp the power... and the horror. I told them about how Death imbued me with his own power, making me a hybrid of myself, the Primeval, and the Death all rolled into one. Then I finally killed the Primeval and annihilated its world. It was beyond comprehension for them.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    The magnitude of the information I was trying to tell them was too much. When they looked at me as I spoke the words, they just saw a man, sitting on a couch. From everything I told them, I just looked like an unassuming asshole from planet Earth. It would take time for them to really come to terms with it all. Maybe this was why Death had to let me come to the truth on my own. I can only imagine how I would have reacted if all of this was dumped on me way back then, and not experienced what I did, leading up to it.

    The quiet between them was thick, laden with thoughts they weren¡¯t quite ready to voice. Eleanor was the first to break the tension, though her words came out hesitant, as if she were still processing them herself.

    "Sam..." she began, her voice soft, searching for the right way to say it. "I can¡¯t believe this is really it." She paused, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I mean, it makes sense... but it¡¯s hard to grasp."

    She shook her head, almost as if the movement might help her organize her swirling thoughts. ¡°It... fits now, in a way I never expected. The way things unfolded¡­ death trading your life for mine." Her gaze drifted inward, remembering something long buried. "Annabelle and Bartley... they always said no one could ever truly come back from the dead. That death was final. Absolute. Anything that tried to return was just... a shadow. A reflection, never the real thing. But Death, making a trade..." Her voice trailed off, and a shudder passed through her. "It makes more sense now, doesn¡¯t it? What happened back then¡­ Why it felt like that..."

    She fell silent again, her hands still, as if holding onto an invisible weight.

    Carter let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I can¡¯t believe we¡¯ve had this kind of power near us, with us, all this time." He sounded bewildered, his usual composure slipping. "I don¡¯t understand how you¡¯re even here. Alive. I¡¯ve never heard of anything like this. Not even a whisper. Especially the part about immortality... that¡¯s supposed to be a given, right? Vampires, and witches, they can live forever, or close to it. As long as their power holds. To hear it¡¯s not¡­"

    His words hung there, searching for some form of logic that didn¡¯t seem to exist.

    I repeated softly, more to myself than them, "Everything lives and dies in different strides." The words weren¡¯t mine, but those of my predecessor, and even saying them out loud didn¡¯t make them feel any more real for Carter.

    Frank, who had been quietly absorbing it all, finally spoke, his voice low. "It changes everything, doesn¡¯t it?" His eyes were hard, reflecting the reality that was slowly settling over them all. "Especially how we hunt. It¡¯s... different now. We¡¯ll see it all differently."

    There was no immediate answer, only the growing realization that they were standing at the edge of something far bigger than any of them had ever imagined.

    The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, but no one rushed to break it. There were no quick answers, no easy reassurances. Just the weight of everything they had learned, pressing down like a slow, relentless force. My mind raced, not about staying with them, but what it all meant for the future¡­ how we could possibly move forward after this. My involvement in their family¡­ their hunts... that was the immediate question. But beneath it, deeper than they probably realized, was my growing unease with how much they knew¡­ and they knew too much.

    I wanted them to know, but it was more than they should. More than was safe. And I¡¯d have enemies¡­ creatures of power and influence far beyond what any of them could grasp. If those enemies realized how close Carter and Eleanor had become to me, how much they¡¯d uncovered... I couldn¡¯t let that happen. I couldn¡¯t let them become targets of a Primeval or something like it. I didn¡¯t want the monsters from the pits coming for them. I didn¡¯t want Death¡¯s targets turning their gaze toward my family, toward my friends.

    I thought about the pits again. What waited there for me? It was tied to the next Primeval I would be forced to confront, the next task from Death. Whatever lurked in that abyss was my responsibility. But it wasn¡¯t just about me anymore. If I didn¡¯t protect our connection now, if I didn¡¯t make sure they weren¡¯t linked to me by the knowledge they carried, those same horrors could be turned against them. The thought gnawed at me, unsettled and raw.

    Once I was done tearing the pits apart, maybe, just maybe, things wouldn¡¯t have to be so hush-hush. I wouldn¡¯t have to worry as much. But for now, for their safety, I couldn¡¯t let them get any closer.

    "I think there¡¯s another one down there,¡± I finally said, my voice low, more brutal honesty in my words than I¡¯d allowed in a long time. ¡°In the pits. I have to go down... find a way in and kill everything I can find. That¡¯s my next task. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve been hunting, asking questions, trying to find ways to draw attention from the elders below."

    I glanced at them, the unease clear in their eyes, but they didn¡¯t say anything. Not yet.

    ¡°Charles,¡± I continued, ¡°is my best bet. I¡¯ve been trying to track him down, but Martin hasn¡¯t heard from him since he left you. Since I killed Peter.¡±

    I saw them flinch at the reminder, their expressions twisting in a brief flash of emotion before they masked it again. The truth was ugly, but it was necessary. The silence returned, heavier now. They understood more than they ever had before, but that was the problem. They were standing too close to the edge of something that could destroy them. I couldn¡¯t let that happen.

    The pits weren¡¯t just mine to deal with¡­ they were mine to protect them from.

    Eleanor''s question hung in the air, a quiet but probing weight. ¡°That¡¯s why you haven¡¯t been around?¡± Her voice was calm, but there was an edge of something¡­ sadness, maybe confusion. She knew how Autumn¡¯s abrupt choice affected me. How much she meant to me.

    I nodded, but it felt like a hollow gesture. ¡°Partly¡­¡± The word barely left my mouth, and even then, it felt inadequate. There was so much more beneath the surface, things I couldn¡¯t put into words without cracking open everything I had been trying to keep sealed.

    Carter was next, his tone gentler than usual. ¡°El and I¡­ we appreciate how you stayed away. How you kept your distance from Autumn. I know that had to be hard¡­ you two were¡­¡± He trailed off, struggling, as he always did, to say what he really meant. I knew Carter; his concern had always been for Autumn¡¯s happiness, and her safety. I couldn¡¯t blame him for that. What father wouldn¡¯t want to protect his daughter from a life tangled up in death, monsters, and the unknown?

    ¡°We were close,¡± I admitted, though saying it aloud felt like reopening a wound I hadn¡¯t let myself think about in months. The truth was that staying away had been harder than I wanted to admit; to them, or myself. There was a part of me that still felt like I was leaving something unresolved, something vital. But I had made a choice, and it was supposed to protect her, to protect all of them.

    Carter¡¯s voice softened. ¡°But you don¡¯t have to stay away from us. We¡¯ve been through so much together¡­ we want you close, just like before. I know it¡¯s only been a few weeks, but your absence has felt like a weight hanging around the house. I know there¡¯s a lot of¡­ complexities in all this.¡± He paused, his words measured, like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. ¡°But I think we¡¯ll just need time to sort through it all.¡±

    I wanted to believe him. I wanted to think that we could just pick up where we left off, that the distance Autumn had put between us hadn¡¯t changed everything. But deep down, uncertainty gnawed at me, louder than any reassurance he could offer. How could things ever go back to what they were, when I wasn¡¯t even the same person anymore? I was changing¡­ becoming more Primeval¡­ not after everything I¡¯d seen, everything I had to do.

    Carter was trying to steer us forward, to get to the point. ¡°How about you explain again, the vision you saw. The one you told me about before.¡± His words were gentle, but there was an underlying tension. This wasn¡¯t just a casual conversation anymore. It was the reason we were all here.

    Eleanor¡¯s eyes were full of a worry she wasn¡¯t saying aloud. ¡°I¡¯d like to hear it firsthand, from you, Sam,¡± she said softly. Her words, though calm, carried a burden that made me hesitate. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind¡­ Autumn¡¯s been acting very unusual these last few weeks, ever since Peter was killed.¡± Her voice faltered, her hand unconsciously gripping the edge of the chair. ¡°You really told her all this already? About Death¡­ the Primeval?¡±

    There it was, the real fear. The kind that wasn¡¯t just about visions or monsters in the dark, but something much more personal. The kind that came from a mother watching her child slip away, feeling powerless to help. Eleanor¡¯s expression, her wide eyes, and tense mouth, spoke volumes she couldn¡¯t put into words. It was the fear of knowing something was deeply wrong but not knowing how to fix it. Not knowing if it could even be fixed.

    And as I stood there, struggling to find the right words, that same fear twisted inside me. Because I didn¡¯t know if there was a way back from this. Not for Autumn. Not for any of us. If this was real¡­ it would change everything. Part of me prayed it was a huge misunderstanding. That would be more sufferable.

    I took a deep breath, preparing myself to recount everything from the start. "After I finally killed the Unseen Primeval in that other realm, I was pulled back into this world. It wasn¡¯t just some random occurrence¡­ Death itself had intervened, showing me a vision. And with it, the name I had been seeking: Peter Grimwood. The way the vision played out, it was like they had a history, a deeper connection than merely the chaos Peter had waged on the families. I could sense a recognition in Patrick¡¯s eyes, a familiarity far beyond the attacks Peter had led. Something more tied them together.¡±

    "It started when I saw him step into Autumn¡¯s dorm. He moved so casually like he belonged there, but his presence was just wrong. He didn¡¯t just kill Autumn¡¯s roommate¡­ he stole the very essence of lifeforce. With a single touch, he ripped her life away. He cast her aside like a broken doll,¡± I shook my head as the images ripped through me again. "But Peter didn¡¯t stop there. After the murder, he didn¡¯t flee the scene. He walked deeper into the room, straight into Autumn¡¯s private space, like he knew exactly what he was looking for. I could feel his obsession growing as he rifled through her things, and then he found it. A brush¡­ There was a look in his eyes when he laid his hand on it, like a puzzle clicking into place. Whatever plan he had been constructing, this brush was a key part of it. It radiated power, even through the vision. I couldn''t see what he meant for the brush, but I felt the weight of its significance. There was something ancient about it, something dark¡­ twisted.¡±

    I saw the reactions on their faces as I recounted the events for them. It was hard for me to bring this much discord into their lives. I knew I hadn¡¯t done it, but I had to be the one to reveal it all. It sucked.

    "And then, I saw him approach Patrick. Peter whispered things to him. And when he handed Patrick that brush, it was like he passed a curse along with it.¡±

    Jane spoke up, after letting the family and I speak without interruption. But she had questions as well. ¡°I never heard anything about that.¡± Jane looked around curious like maybe she was missing something. ¡°Did he not tell anybody, why wouldn''t he tell someone? If Peter reached out to one of us, in any way,..¡±

    ¡°Unless,¡± Carter opened with an idea, ¡°unless the truth was much more personal between them. Once Peter died, what reason would Patrick have to keep this from any of us? The only reason I could think he would lie to any of us about this would be if Peter gave him something he valued. Something that he is benefiting from. Something he wouldn''t want us to find out about.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡± Frank asked. ¡°What on earth could Peter have given Patrick to get him to go against his own family?¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t Shelta have seen that?¡± Jane asked aloud.

    Carter looked at me, his eyes heavy with regret. "I''m sorry, Sam. I really am. I should¡¯ve listened to you sooner. I let things get too complicated, but that¡¯s no excuse. We need to handle this now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea,¡± Frank growled.

    We all turned to him, surprised by his sudden determination.

    "How about we just question the hell out of them? I can get that little fucker to talk," Frank said coldly, clearly unfazed by any moral qualms.

    Eleanor shot him a skeptical look. "If we''re doing this, we have to be smart. We can¡¯t just storm in and intimidate the boy, especially with Shelta as his sister. If she doesn¡¯t know what we¡¯re up to, she¡¯ll know the moment we make a move. That¡¯ll blow any chance we have.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we should bring her into this," Carter suggested, his voice tight with anger. "Tell her what we know, what Sam¡¯s seen. If we get her talking, she might see it too¡­ then she can question Patrick with us. It¡¯ll be harder for him to hide anything with her there.¡±

    ¡°And if that brush does have some kind of power over Autumn¡­ or both of them? What then?" I asked, trying to keep my frustration in check.

    Carter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ¡°We¡¯ve got friends, family. We¡¯ll figure something out. But first, we need to get that brush and see what¡¯s going on. Shelta could help us feel it out, and see if there¡¯s something we¡¯re missing. It could help get her onboard as well.¡±

    ¡°All right, but how are we going to do this? And who¡¯s doing the talking?¡± I asked. ¡°As much as I want to knock Patrick¡¯s fucking teeth in¡­ it shouldn¡¯t be me. If worst comes to worst and Autumn actually wants to be with him, me being there won¡¯t help anything.¡±

    Carter gave me a faint smile. ¡°You¡¯re right. It shouldn¡¯t be you.¡±

    ¡°As for the brush, I know where it is,¡± I revealed, watching them all glance at me in surprise. "Patrick doesn¡¯t have it anymore¡­ Martin does."

    They looked taken aback as if they didn¡¯t expect me to be so far ahead in the situation. I continued, "I can¡¯t take all the credit. Alex got it from Patrick. I spoke with her last night at Martin¡¯s. She had the brush with her, and we showed it to Martin. He agreed to look into it.¡±

    Eleanor frowned, confused. "How did Alex get involved with Patrick in the first place?¡±

    ¡°I told her my suspicions a while back when I wasn¡¯t sure what to do,¡± I explained. ¡°After everything with Peter, I thought if I brought it up too soon, Patrick would just dismiss it¡­ deny it. So I went to Alex as a middleman. I needed her to know, just in case things got messy.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s been helping you this whole time?¡± Frank asked, narrowing his eyes.

    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Hell no. She didn¡¯t want anything to do with what I was saying at first. She¡¯s close with Martin, and she didn¡¯t want to risk her position at the bar. It¡¯s important to her; keeping tabs on vampires she might have to take out one day. She thought that if she crossed the family, Martin might tell her to get lost. But after a while, she started looking into things herself. Even she admitted something didn¡¯t add up.¡±

    Eleanor chuckled softly. ¡°I knew I liked that girl... well, woman, I guess. She¡¯s probably older than me.¡± She corrected herself with a light grin.

    Carter, pulling the conversation back together, laid it out. ¡°So, Martin has the brush. Autumn and Patrick are still playing lovebirds, but we all know something¡¯s off. We need to get our hands on that brush and have it examined. Then, with Shelta¡¯s help, we confront them. We ask them hard questions. What the hell did Peter Grimwood say to you? And why did he give you this brush? The one thing he took from Autumn¡¯s apartment. The thing he killed an innocent person for.¡±

    Carter¡¯s words hit like a punch, his tone brimming with conviction. He was already speaking as if Patrick were right in front of him, ready to demand answers.

    ¡°It sounds like a plan,¡± I said, feeling the weight of what was to come.

 Chapter 71 - Boo

    Descend!

    The command thundered through my mind, stopping me dead in my tracks. I stood frozen, just like the grimy streets, my heart pounding. It wasn¡¯t just a voice. It was its voice¡­ Myoordrakien, the Primeval. The embodiment of destruction. My bones rattled with the force of it, a pressure so immense it felt like my skull would split. His command burned into my thoughts, relentless, inescapable.

    Kill!

    I jerked forward, my feet moving before my mind could catch up. A frantic pulse surged through me, driving me faster, pulling me deeper into the city''s underbelly. Every shadowed alley, every darkened corner seemed to lean toward me, like they knew where I was supposed to go. Down.

    My legs picked up speed, my body trembling with the urgency. There was no escaping it; this overwhelming force pulled me toward the pits beneath the city, to the depths where my next task waited. My vision blurred, and the roar of Myoordrakien¡¯s voice echoed again, louder, dragging me forward with a purpose not my own.

    Subconsciously, I think the Primeval was guiding me somewhere, with an idea of its own. It was in the periphery of my mind, and I was soon able to understand what it was thinking. It was time to ramp things up. If revealing the supernatural world was what it would take to summon things from the pits. It was time to go full-on monster movie¡­ and terrorize this town.

    The days blurred together in a haze of blood and violence. I became a predator, stalking, with the pulse guiding me through the city streets. Every heartbeat of the city sent vibrations into my core, allowing me to sense those who were marked for death¡­ both human and monster alike. There was no need for names, no faces in my mind. Just the pulse, sharp and unrelenting. The Primeval inside me knew which ones deserved to die, and I trusted it. With the reverence it showed to people like Carter, Autumn, and even Patrick¡­ I didn¡¯t doubt its urges as we hunted. Myoordrakien¡¯s hunger for death matched mine.

    The first target was a woman, mid-thirties, her life force blackened and twisted by something unnatural. There was no hesitation. I didn¡¯t need her story. The pulse was enough. Myoordrakien had judged her guilty. I waited, crouched in the shadows, until she was alone, and then I descended. I didn¡¯t hide when I took her. I wanted to be seen. Her scream tore through the night, sharp and sudden, as I pounced on her, bone talons sinking into her flesh like knives through wet paper. The sound of bones snapping under my grip was almost deafening. I shredded her body, tearing her apart like an animal in a frenzy. Her limbs were torn free, flesh peeled back, and blood splattered in wide arcs across the pavement. When the good Samaritans came, they didn¡¯t find a victim. They found a massacre. Pieces of her lay scattered like discarded meat. Her torso was a grotesque, crumpled shell of what she once was. And the streets ran slick with her blood.

    The next was a man. I felt the pulse throbbing from a skyscraper in the heart of St. Louis. His corruption was thicker, fouler, and reeking of malice. Myoordrakien''s fury surged in me, pulling me toward him. I leaped from one building across the street, crashing through a window on the sixth floor like a missile. Glass rained down in a glittering storm, and I didn¡¯t stop. I clawed my way up the stairwell, the concrete and steel bending beneath my monstrous strength. My claws tore into handrails, and the steps crumbled under the force of my ascent. I let the monster loose, fully transformed now.

    By the time I reached the top, I was a beast, surging with raw power. The door to his floor was obliterated, blown off its hinges, and I moved through like a hurricane, my pulse guiding me. The man had already started running, the terror in his chest a beacon for me to follow. His fear was intoxicating. The heat of his corrupted soul blazed in the dark, and I could almost taste his death. His screams echoed through the empty halls as I toyed with him, letting him stumble and claw his way toward a non-existent escape. He was drawing attention, and I wanted the chaos. I wanted others to hear his desperation.

    I let him think he had a chance¡­ until I didn¡¯t.

    With one vicious swipe, my claws sliced through him, bisecting him just above the waist. His body didn¡¯t even have time to register the pain before his torso flew across the room, crashing into a conference table, blood streaking in thick ropes across the polished surface. His lower half crumpled where I stood, twitching, useless. It was a grotesque display, left to rot for someone to find in the cold, corporate morning light. If no one noticed before the workday, I was certain it¡¯d make for an unforgettable meeting.

    I didn¡¯t need to stay and watch. I¡¯d made sure my message was loud, gory, and unmistakable; that something was out there, hunting, making waves. The elders would feel my presence soon enough.

    I was a shadow in the heart of St. Louis, a specter of violence that haunted the streets. My presence was whispered about, and feared, but never fully understood. The city trembled beneath my feet as I crept closer to the edge, flirting with the line between ghost and monster. Every night, I left a trail of destruction, each location marked by chaos so profound it gripped the city¡¯s underbelly in terror. The news reports came swiftly, plastered with images of carnage too brutal to process. They called it possible gang violence. A new wave of criminal activity and behavior that could put a name on what was happening. The city''s attempt to rationalize the bloodshed was almost laughable, a desperate attempt to explain the horror that had no face, no reason.

    But I knew better.

    I could feel the darkness below stirring, Myoordrakien''s influence spreading. The more they tried to piece together the mystery of my attacks, the more attention they drew from the abyss. They were watching now, waiting, as I tore through their city. The pulse inside me¡­ the Primeval, was leading me, shaping my path. This was no accident.

    I hadn¡¯t always been like this. I wouldn¡¯t have allowed myself to be so openly present, so brazen with my kills. But the longer Myoordrakien lingered in my mind, the more I surrendered. His voice was a constant drumbeat, a guttural whisper that clawed for my attention. No conversations, no explanations¡­ just commands; short, brutal, and final. Kill. Descend. Hunt. Move.

    The Primeval¡¯s senses flooded through me in waves, like a sonar pulsing outward, vibrating through the city. It wasn¡¯t me anymore¡­ it was us. My monstrous instincts, once muted, now blared like a siren. I could feel every tremor in the streets, sense the lifeblood of the city pumping through its veins, corrupted, tainted. We stopped being idle, and we became a weapon, driven by our shared will. His commands weren¡¯t spoken in language¡­ they were raw, primal impulses coursing through my mind and flesh like venom. I welcomed it.

    I moved with purpose. Every vibration in the air, every pulse of wrath in my mind told me where to go, who to hunt. The pulse guided me, a relentless force feeding me sensory overload, choking me with the raw magnitude of it all. I was overwhelmed, but I didn¡¯t stop. I couldn¡¯t stop. I had to make them see me. They would see the risk I was bringing against the supernatural world.

    The past few days had been nothing short of a blood-soaked nightmare for the city; slaughter, carnage, and, most crucially, dread. It wasn¡¯t just about the bodies I left behind, ripped apart like meat, but the terror I etched into the hearts of those who stumbled upon my handiwork. The ones who found the mangled remains, who caught fleeting glimpses of my hulking, twisted form shifting through the shadows. They didn¡¯t see me, not fully, but they saw enough to know something monstrous was lurking. It was in the moments where my warped, ragged breaths echoed down the alleyways, my distorted silhouette flickering like a nightmare just out of reach. That was the key¡­ the fear. The terror that spread like wildfire was my ticket down below, to draw the attention of the elders.

    I could feel it¡­ With each kill, with each moment of horror I unleashed, I was bringing them closer. The blood-soaked descent wasn¡¯t just about violence. It was a ritual, a performance, and every scream was a signal sent to the pits below. Alex was right¡­ I was a monster¡­ and I was finally acting like one to get what I wanted.

    But in the rare moments when the bloodlust faded, doubt gnawed at me. What would all of this do to the people I cared about? The Chasses, my friends¡­ they wouldn¡¯t understand. Especially not now, with everything they were dealing with about Autumn and Patrick. I didn¡¯t know if the threat of the secret hairbrush was real, or if it was just a desperate explanation for why she had abandoned me. Whether the pull of darkness was genuine or a twisted fantasy, it didn¡¯t matter. Either way, they¡¯d be too preoccupied to realize what I was doing in the city¡¯s shadows, tearing through lives in ways they would never condone.

    Without proof, without them feeling what I felt through the Primeval¡¯s senses, they couldn¡¯t understand. The way Myoordrakien guided me with that pulse, with that primal, inhuman certainty¡­ they¡¯d never agree to it. Not unless they, too, were consumed by the raw, pulsing knowledge of what lay beneath the surface, just waiting to be unleashed. But they never could¡­ that was my burden to bear.

    But I was already too deep. My monstrous path was set, and I would drag them into this darkness only if I had to.

    Five days. In just five days, thirteen bodies lay scattered across St. Louis, countless vampires had been turned to dust by the morning sun, and countless others were left terrified; innocent bystanders who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In a single business week, I had turned the city into a living nightmare, transforming it into one of the most dangerous places on Earth, at least in the eyes of law-abiding citizens. The news buzzed with panic, but I didn¡¯t stop. I kept moving, relentless, always on the hunt for the next target.

    But then, something shifted. The Primeval''s mindset changed, and I felt it¡­ an unspoken certainty. We had done enough. The carnage, the terror, the chaos, it was enough to draw the attention we needed. Now, we could slow down. Sometimes it felt like Myoordrakien knew things I didn¡¯t, as if it had access to some deeper knowledge I wasn¡¯t privy to. Like I was a mere child, a burden it had to guide, dragging me along while it performed Death¡¯s bidding. A thought crept into my mind¡­ once a host like John or I grew strong enough, why did we ever have to give it up? Sure, the burden was immense, but wouldn¡¯t a permanent hand of death in the physical world be far more efficient than resetting every few generations? When this was over, I¡¯d have to ask that question.

    I walked slowly through the night, just at the edge of the Mississippi River. My muscles were tense, mind sharpened after days of unrelenting slaughter. It was a good thing I never got tired; otherwise, I¡¯d have collapsed into a coma until next month. A part of me almost felt bad for the innocent people I¡¯d scared to death; the ones who didn¡¯t deserve any of this. But the people I killed? They deserved it. I could sense it, the festering darkness within their souls, the twisted infection that marked them as targets¡­ and I was the executioner.

    But those bystanders¡­ they would carry that fear with them for the rest of their lives, haunted by glimpses of the thing in the shadows. They¡¯d turn me into a myth, a legend passed down to their families and grandchildren. They¡¯d tell stories about the monster they saw¡­ how it moved, how it sounded. But no matter how grand their tales grew, no matter how far the exaggerations went, they would never come close to the truth of what I had become. How monstrous I truly was.

    A random thought popped into my head, and I started chuckling like an idiot. I knew I shouldn¡¯t. Really, I did. But, I was already neck-deep in chaos¡­ what was one more little scare? I¡¯d already turned half the city into a nightmare. Might as well enjoy the ride, right?

    Now, I don¡¯t usually think of myself as a petty person, but this whole dark, cursed life I¡¯m living is pretty damn bleak. I have to find some kind of joy in life¡­ right? At least that¡¯s how I justified it to myself. You¡¯ve got to find the little things that brighten up your day¡­ like candy. I love candy; really sweet or sour. I like a good joke as well, and I knew one I could enjoy in the middle of all this madness. It¡¯s the little things that keep you going when you¡¯re a monster in this dark world.

    After talking with Carter, Eleanor, Frank, and Jane, I felt a strange relief. They agreed¡­ something was definitely wrong with Autumn. She wasn¡¯t just keeping secrets or pushing me away; something unnatural had gotten to her, and now her entire focus was on Patrick. Patrick, Patrick, Patrick... If he wanted attention, I¡¯d make sure he got it.

    I didn¡¯t know where they were¡­ at the Chasse¡¯s house, her dorm, or wherever Patrick was living, but I¡¯d find him. I wasn¡¯t planning on hurting him or confronting him directly, just scaring the hell out of him. With everyone backing me up and confirming something was off, I felt justified in having a little fun. Peter Grimwood was the real enemy, and whatever he¡¯d given Patrick had clearly affected Autumn. Patrick could be a victim too. So I wouldn¡¯t do anything irreversible... just enough to freak him out.

    I focused, pushing through the unmarked woods, the snow crunching beneath my boots. My mind locked in on Patrick. I let the pulse build inside me, expanding outward, like a living thing wrapping itself around the city. Every detail I knew about him sharpened the focus. His voice, his walk, the way he tied his ponytail. I pulsed again, and again, until a stabbing pain shot through my mind. Found him.

    I tore through the city, moving like a shadow; darting through alleyways, slipping into sewers, weaving through tunnels beneath the streets. Each pulse sent new feedback, forcing quick shifts in direction as the hum in my mind grew louder, a map forming in my brain. I pictured the asshole standing there, his presence undeniable, his breath echoing in my head. The image sharpened. Of course. Autumn¡¯s dorm room. Big fucking surprise. I could sense him through the walls¡­ breathing, eating, unaware. Alone.

    But where was she? I shifted targets, sending out another reverberating pulse, picturing Autumn in my mind. Distant vibrations hit back, a painful echo. She was far away, maybe her parents¡¯ house, judging by the direction. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure, but she wasn¡¯t here.

    Patrick was, though. Alone. Ripe for the picking.

    I crouched down, scooping up a small piece of gravel, rolling it between my fingers, letting the possibilities swirl in my head. I walked slowly, circling the side of the building until I reached the shadowy corner near Autumn¡¯s window. The night was closing in, perfect cover for what I had in mind. Another pulse confirmed Patrick¡¯s exact location. There he was, sitting at a desk, eating what looked like ramen noodles.

    I smirked. This was going to be fun.

    I flicked the pebble with just the right force, enough to make a sharp tink against the window, but not enough to shatter the glass. The sound echoed through the quiet room, a perfect intrusion. I felt the disturbance ripple through the pulse in my mind, tracking Patrick¡¯s reaction. His head snapped toward the noise. I melted deeper into the shadow, my grin spreading wider as I watched.

    The curtains twitched, parting just enough for his face to peer out, scanning the area. His expression was calm, almost indifferent, like someone searching for an explanation but not expecting one. His heartbeat didn¡¯t change¡­ still steady, still rhythmic, like he didn¡¯t have a care in the world¡­ not yet. He just noticed something, nothing crazy, nothing to note. No spike in fear, no tension in his chest. But that was fine. The night was young, and patience was part of the game.

    I stayed perfectly still, my breath shallow, watching as Patrick''s eyes lingered on the darkness outside the window. He couldn''t see me¡­ not yet. He looked for the source of the sound, curiosity flickering in his gaze, but there was no fear. He turned away after a few moments, closing the curtains just as slowly as he had opened them.

    Good. This was going to be a slow burn, little by little until that calm confidence drained away. I had all night, and I was going to make sure Patrick felt every second of it. I had to build his fear from the ground up.

    I waited patiently for about another fifteen minutes, my eyes locked on Patrick as he sat at Autumn¡¯s desk. He was oblivious to my presence outside. He was finishing off a bowl of ramen getting ready to clean up. This time, I picked up a slightly larger rock, its weight feeling satisfying in my palm. Perfect for throwing. I wasn¡¯t aiming for the window this time. Instead, I focused on the side wall of the bedroom, knowing the impact would create a more substantial sound. With a flick of my wrist, I hurled the rock with more force than before. The thud echoed through the room, a resounding impact shook the stillness of the room.

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    This time, I felt it; the pulse of his heartbeat quickened, the panic igniting like a flame. He jumped up from the desk, his face paling as he rushed to the window. I saw his stupid ponytail swinging shortly at the back of his head as he glanced around frantically. I couldn¡¯t help but smirk at the sight, the panicked energy of someone home alone and scared of the noise outside. His mind was probably racing. Crafting scary stories and worst-case scenarios.

    His eyes darted around, searching the darkened corners of the building''s exterior. All he saw was the trees casting elongated shadows in the wintry night. I could see the gears turning in his mind; he was starting to connect the dots. He was no longer dismissing the noise as just the creaking of an old building. No, this time he understood¡­ something was wrong. The realization began to seep into his bones.

    I remained hidden, savoring the moment, waiting for him to slip further into unease. I hoped he wouldn¡¯t simply brush it off¡­ too scared to acknowledge it, hiding in ignorance. A part of me wanted him to do just that, to fuel my amusement throughout a slower build-up. But as I watched him fumble with the curtains, it was clear he could feel it now. Something dark might be lurking just beyond his line of sight, and that realization was the first step toward true fear.

    I maneuvered around the building, the shadows of the winter night dancing in the glow of the snow¡¯s illumination. The sparse darkness near the building made it tricky for me, so I had to tread carefully. Most of the lights on the front of the apartment, including the section where Autumn¡¯s unit was located, were out. Only one bulbed flickered dimly near the stairs leading up to her second-floor apartment. I couldn¡¯t let a single light ruin my fun, so I picked up another rock and hurled it at the fixture, shattering the fixture and plunging the area into darkness.

    A neighbor popped their head out of the entryway, curiosity piqued by the noise. After a brief look around, they ducked back inside and closed the door with a soft click. Patrick, already on high alert, mirrored their actions, peeking out cautiously. His brow furrowed, and I could see the suspicion etched on his face. The strange sounds he kept hearing were fueling his paranoia, each noise feeding into his growing anxiety.

    I heard him shuffle around as he went back inside, closing the door behind him. I could hear the tones of every number he pushed on his cell phone, calling Autumn. They spoke briefly, but I tuned my ears in to hear him and her voice through the speaker.

    ¡°Hey, when are you going to be back?¡± Patrick asked, his voice edged with a frantic urgency.

    ¡°I¡¯m still at Mom and Dad¡¯s, just grabbing some clothes. I¡¯ll be back in about 10 to 15 minutes. Why, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Autumn¡¯s tone sent a chill through me, making my teeth clench. She sounded just as smitten with him as ever, radiating the same blissful energy I sensed from her when Carter told me that night. It made my stomach turn. The moment I found out she had gotten back with him, it sickened me.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Patrick hesitated, unwilling to admit how much of a bitch he was. ¡°I just¡­ miss you, is all.¡±

    What a fucking loser! I cringed and shook my head. He didn¡¯t mention the noises he had heard at first; it was as if he was trying to play it cool. But eventually, he bled it into the conversation, veiling his panic beneath a thin layer of nonchalance.

    ¡°You usually have neighbors doing things this late? I feel like I can hear someone out there bumping into stuff, or opening and closing doors,¡± he said, his mind racing in the solitude of the house.

    ¡°Yeah, there are people who live all around, so whatever it is, it¡¯s probably just my neighbors,¡± Autumn explained, sounding completely unfazed.

    ¡°Yeah, probably. Well¡­ get back soon,¡± Patrick replied, trying to suppress his fears.

    ¡°I will. Just hang out¡­ watch TV or something. I¡¯m about to leave,¡± Autumn suggested.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Patrick agreed, though his tone was still shaky. ¡°All right, I¡¯ll see you in a minute. Love you.¡±

    ¡°Love you too,¡± Autumn said, the words flowing easily from her lips.

    What the hell? Did I really just hear that? There¡¯s no way! How could Autumn feel that way about him? Everything she¡¯d ever said about this jerk echoed in my mind. They were supposed to be like oil on water, never mixing. I remembered seeing her frustration spilling out with how he couldn¡¯t let go and leave her alone. How she just didn¡¯t see him that way anymore. He never took the hint. And yet here she was, saying ¡°love you¡± like it was as natural as breathing. It sounded so¡­ weird. Not forced, but almost like it came from a feeling I couldn¡¯t grasp, twisting my insides into knots of confusion and anger.

    I gritted my teeth, shaking my head as if I could physically dislodge the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. I was desperate to push the unease away, reminding myself that with Frank and Carter on board and everyone else getting more involved. I knew Patrick had done something to Autumn¡­ whether he fully understood the consequences or not, I couldn¡¯t say. Was he a victim of Peter¡¯s manipulations, too? The uncertainty gnawed at me. Was any of this even real, or was I the one losing my grip on reality?

    The emotional turmoil was overwhelming, but I couldn¡¯t afford to dwell on it. I forced myself to shove those thoughts aside, focusing on embracing my role as the monster lurking in the shadows. If I let my mind wander too long, not only would it ruin my night, but it would linger long after. In any case, I was about to have my fun anyway.

    I had about half an hour before Autumn returned, so it was time to ramp things up. I approached the front door of her apartment, just a thin wall separating me from Patrick. When I sent out my pulse, I could sense him sitting on the couch, barely ten feet away as he waited nervously for Autumn. I beat hard on the door four times.

    Boom, boom, boom, boom.

    Then slipped into the shadows across the street, positioning myself perfectly to watch him open the door.

    Patrick flung the door open, panic radiating from him. His heart raced like he¡¯d just sprinted a marathon, and his breath hitched, betraying his fear. He stood there, wide-eyed, knowing something was off. He knew this wasn¡¯t a playful prank; it felt more like a predator was lurking, waiting to strike.

    As I watched, I decided to experiment with something I had never tried before. I had always exuded this dark aura of doom in my monstrous form, an almost tangible essence that wrapped around me like a sinister fog, instilling fear in anyone nearby. Even in human form, I could let it seep out, but this time, I wanted to focus it solely on him, honing it in on Autumn''s apartment. I didn¡¯t want to alarm anyone else; just Patrick.

    I picked up another small pebble, rolling it between my fingers, then waited for him to finish checking outside, desperately trying to convince himself it was just some prankster messing with him. As soon as his hand slipped off the doorknob, I hurled the rock at the front door, the sound echoing sharply in the still night air.

    Patrick flung the door open and stepped out onto the front landing, his breaths coming in quick, panicked huffs. I could see the fear fully overtaking him as he shouted, ¡°Who¡¯s fucking with me?¡±

    I had to give it to him. That did take some bravery.

    He began pacing near the stairs, his movements frantic, as if he were trying to outrun his own anxiety. I couldn''t help but grin from my hidden spot in the shadows, feeling a thrill as I concentrated my presence directly at him. It was a strange sensation, like trying to mold fog with my hands¡­ except I didn¡¯t have any hands. I was relying solely on my mind, imagining that I could manipulate this intangible essence.

    Figuring out how to do this was tough. The Primeval''s powers came without any sort of rulebook or owner''s manual; I was just winging it, feeling my way through the darkness. I wasn¡¯t sure if I managed to direct my aura precisely at him, but I could see the shift in his demeanor. His expression morphed from a general sense of unease into something far more visceral; a sheer, bone-deep fear that screamed, I¡¯m about to die.

    For some unfathomable reason, Patrick''s next move was downright stupid, but it played right into my hands. He took off running, sprinting down the stairs and straight into the dimly lit parking lot. His frantic footsteps echoed against the stillness of the night. I watched him from across the street as I stayed hidden in the shadows of a tree, feeling like a predator stalking its prey.

    As he bolted, I pushed my aura out toward him, a wave of dread swirling through the air. I couldn¡¯t pinpoint which car belonged to him, but he headed straight for a little gray sedan, yanking the keys from his pocket. In his panic, he dropped them, the keys falling into the dirty slush of melted snow mixed with the salt that had been thrown out. He fumbled on the ground, scrambling to pick them up as if they were red hot, his movements desperate and clumsy.

    Seizing the moment, I tossed another rock, aiming for a car parked beside his. The impact sent a loud thunk reverberating through the air, and I could almost feel the shock ripple through him. He stumbled backward, eyes wide with fear as he whipped his head toward the sound. I could see his mind racing, caught in a whirlwind of terror, and he dropped his keys again in his scramble to escape. It was clear he was trying to make a beeline back to Autumn''s apartment, driven by a primal instinct to flee from whatever shadow haunted him in the night.

    I had already sent out a mental pulse, carefully checking to see if the coast was clear. If someone caught a glimpse of me, that was fine, just more fuel to the fire; but there was a lot of open area here, and I didn¡¯t want to be seen in full view¡­ even in my human form. I cast a wide scan in my head, assessing whether anyone was close enough to notice the commotion on this quiet night. When I was about ninety percent sure I was in the clear, I made my move. Gathering every ounce of strength I had in my human form, I stomped the ground as I ran, deliberately making sure the sound of my footsteps echoed in the air, hoping to alarm Patrick as he dashed toward Autumn''s place.

    I bounded across the street, positioning myself about fifty feet behind him, my footsteps heavy and purposeful. As he fled toward the door, I could sense the rising tension in the air, a primal instinct igniting within him. He must have felt it too¡­ something sinister was on his tail.

    Suddenly, fear bubbled up, coaxing a yelp from his lips. ¡°Oh fuck!¡±

    Patrick was mere feet from the stairs leading back up to Autumn''s apartment when disaster struck. He slipped on the slick pavement and fell hard, scraping his palms against the rough concrete of the sidewalk and the jagged ice that lingered everywhere. I let out a monstrous snarl behind him as he lay prone, mixing with the pounding of my approaching footsteps. Then, while he was down, I seized the opportunity, leaping high into the air and landing on the rooftop. I was concealed from his view as he struggled to regain his footing. I watched him glance back, a mixture of terror and resignation on his face as if he were preparing to confront his doom.

    But killing him was never my intention; I just wanted to rattle him a bit. And honestly, it was all too easy. When he turned around, he saw nothing, no monstrous figure lurking in the shadows; only the eerie silence broken by the faint sounds of the city grumbling in the distance. The absence of movement only heightened his dread.

    I crouched silently on the roof, leaning over the edge to catch the show. Patrick¡¯s eyes darted around, wide and frantic, searching for the unseen threat. He stood up quickly, hesitating for a moment before marching up a few steps, glancing back nervously as if expecting something to lunge at him from the darkness. Reaching Autumn''s door, he grasped the handle, only to find it firmly locked from the inside. I could hear him mumble to himself, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of frustration and fear.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he hissed, the word barely escaping his lips. ¡°Fuck, dude,¡± he added, his voice trembling as panic surged through him. His heart raced, thudding loudly in his chest as he turned his head. His eyes landed on his car parked nearby, the keys lying innocently beside the front tire, taunting him.

    For a moment, he stood frozen, a statue of terror. Three agonizing minutes passed as he breathed heavily, struggling to muster the courage to move. Each breath felt like it weighed a ton, each heartbeat a reminder of his fear. The distance between him and his car seemed insurmountable, a chasm filled with shadows that whispered doubts into his mind.

    Finally, panic overcame hesitation. He bolted forward in a frantic sprint, the urgency of his terror propelling him. He looked ridiculous¡ªarms flailing like a child, his breathing ragged and loud as if he were running a marathon. He skidded to a stop, the icy ground beneath him betraying his frantic pace as he lunged for his keys, but the slick surface sent him nearly tumbling again. He barely caught himself, scraping the skin off his right elbow as he regained his balance, adrenaline surging through him, dulling the pain.

    But there was no time to linger on the sting; he sprang back up, driven by sheer instinct, and darted toward the front door. Each step felt like a race against something invisible, an unseen predator that fueled his flight, urging him to escape before whatever shadow haunted him could catch up.

    I felt like I might have another scare in me, but I knew Autumn would be here soon. I didn''t want to be around when she showed up. None of this was meant for her, Just Patrick. So I let him go inside. And I let him nurse his wounds. The door slammed closed behind him, and I heard the deadbolt slap closed, followed by the lock on the doorknob. He was safe.

    I couldn¡¯t help it¡­ I started laughing my ass off on the roof. Nestled in the cold padding of snow, I reveled in the sheer absurdity of the situation. It felt so good, like a guilty pleasure I couldn¡¯t resist. I laid back, sinking into the soft white blanket beneath me, my eyes drifting up to the night sky. The stars twinkled above, a stark contrast to the chaos I¡¯d just created below. I breathed in the crisp, frosty air, savoring the rush of satisfaction mixed with the comedy of my antics.

    As I lay there, it struck me that I¡¯d been grinning the whole time, utterly absorbed in my little game of terror. I was having way too much fun tormenting this poor bastard. It was a twisted sort of joy, but it was mine. I let the moment linger until I could sense that Patrick was safely inside, his racing heart beginning to slow as he calmed down from the imaginary horrors I had conjured outside.

    Once I felt certain he wasn¡¯t going to die of a heart attack, I pushed myself up from the roof. I turned and jumped off, letting gravity guide me as I landed softly amidst some nearby trees. The night wrapped around me like a cloak as I took off running, leaving the exhilaration of my little escapade behind.

    Part of me wished I could be a fly on the wall when Patrick recounted his ordeal to Autumn. I could only imagine how his version of events would unfold; how much worse it must have seemed to him. I chuckled to myself at the thought, imagining his frantic retelling of the night.

    I hadn¡¯t even made it a mile away from Autumn¡¯s apartment when I felt it; a presence creeping up on me through the night. At first, it was just footsteps, a soft crunch against the frostbitten ground, accompanied by a light grunt that sent an unexpected chill down my spine. I could feel the air shifting, a disturbance that made my instincts flare with a warning. Then, a figure launched itself through the air, heading straight for me.

    I didn¡¯t need to look closely; I recognized that scent before she even touched me. It was Alex.

    Her vibrant red hair stood out against the white backdrop of the frozen city, a wild banner of color as she careened toward me, a mere ten feet away. I instinctively turned to face her, arms bracing for impact, but I miscalculated. Maybe I underestimated her strength, or I was still reeling from the adrenaline of my earlier mischief. Whatever it was, it didn¡¯t matter. When we collided, her force knocked me off balance, sending us tumbling through a snowbank like a chaotic ball of limbs.

    We rolled into a dark alleyway between two random buildings, the world spinning momentarily. When we finally came to a halt, I found myself pinned against a cold brick wall. I didn¡¯t fight her. I was curious what she wanted, so I played along. Alex was on top of me, her hand wrapped tightly around my throat, a playful grin dancing across her face. But beneath that grin, I saw something else¡­ an edge of mischief mixed with a more sinister glimmer in her eyes. It sent a jolt of surprise through me. This wasn¡¯t just a playful encounter; there was a deeper current of danger swirling beneath the surface.

    ¡°Having fun? You like terrorizing little boys?¡± Alex asked as she sat on top of me.

    Her red hair flowed straight down her back, looking like a veil of blood hanging in the moonlight. She was wearing more modest clothes, skinny jeans, and tennis shoes, but the shirt she wore still showed off most of her cleavage, a red shirt that hugged her large breasts firmly.

    ¡°Yeah actually,¡± I said. ¡°It was pretty fun.¡± I looked at her for a minute, watching her gaze linger on me. Her grin slowly disappeared, and she got serious. ¡°What are you doing? Why are you killing people across the city?¡±

    She knew it was me. It didn''t take much for someone like her to figure it out, she knew what to look for. She knew the types of things different monsters were capable of. That amount of carnage and bloodshed throughout the last five days could have only come from one person. Me.

    ¡°You know what I''m doing. I''m trying to lure out the elders, Charles, or whoever they''ll send.¡± I told her plainly.

    ¡°Were those people innocent?¡± was all she asked. I knew why she asked it. If the answer was yes, and they were innocent... This would be the end for me. At least, in her eyes, that''s what was going to happen. But luckily for her, we didn''t have to go down that path and find out.

    ¡°No.¡± That''s all I was going to give her. Not that I didn''t want to tell her more, but this wasn''t about being friends. This was about two monsters¡­ two killers of killers that needed to respect each other''s ways.

    She raised an eyebrow, analyzing me curiously. Her eyes surged with layers of blood, and I could even see a wave of blood being forced through the veins in her face. She was using more of her power, observing me, analyzing me with her own version of vampiric senses. It was interesting actually. I had never seen any other vampire do what she just did, not exactly. The way the blood flowed through her veins and surged to a localized area. Though I guess she wasn''t any normal vampire. She was an anthropophagus.

    We sat there for a moment as she stared at me, not saying anything else.

    ¡°You going to get off me. Or is there something else?¡± I asked, keeping my words simple.

    Alex''s eyes calmed, the blood leaving her face back into her core. Her playful grin returned, and she said, ¡°What... you don''t like this?¡± She slid her hands up my chest, lowering herself down to press her body into mine, giving me a full view down her shirt.

    I looked¡­ but caught myself after a moment, looking back into her amused stare.

    Then she pushed off me hard, impacting me deeper into the snow. She sailed backward into the air to stand on her feet by a dumpster. I slowly got up, dusted myself off, and walked over to stand in front of her.

    ¡°Were you watching me? How long were you there?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°Long enough to see how much you enjoyed that. What was that about? Trying to rile up the competition? I thought I told you, we''re monsters... we don''t belong with humans... not like that.¡± Alex¡¯s grin left again as she spoke seriously.

    I sighed, trying to ignore what she said. ¡°How''d you find me?¡±

    ¡°I have my own ways. The less you know the better. But let''s just say you''re going to be thanking me here in a few minutes,¡± she said.

    ¡°Oh really¡­ now why would I do that?¡± I challenged.

    She looked down at the end of the alley, and two people were standing there. One looked like a 20-something-year-old black man with long thick dreadlocks that hung to the middle of his back. He had on simple, plain clothes that would make him blend into any crowd, although his physical appearance stood out. Large muscles outlined his form setting him apart from the average man. He was definitely more toned and defined, whereas I was just solid as a rock. His body looked like it was in peak physical condition. Not an ounce of fat in sight.

    Then the other man was a familiar face... Charles. The silver-haired vampire could pass as a common businessman in the attire he was wearing. He stood looking at me with a calm demeanor. I gritted my teeth and took a sharp breath. Finally, it was time.

    Alex walked in front of me towards them, placing her hand on my chest as she passed, ¡°Like I said... you can thank me later.¡±

 Chapter 72 - Gruesome Welcome

    "Charles," I greeted, my voice steady, though the weight of our shared history hung heavily between us. His expression, however, remained unreadable.

    The air between us was thick, charged with tension that slithered into every shadow of the dimly lit alley. I could sense it, feel the flicker of unspoken truths beneath Charles'' cold, calculated exterior.

    "Sam," he replied, the words rolling off his tongue with a deliberate slowness. "I wish I could say it¡¯s good to see you."

    His eyes darted, a flicker of something unreadable as he glanced at the man standing beside him. The stranger was silent, observing, his eyes sharp and curious. His features were striking, almost too distinct, like a carved statue come to life. He looked like he hailed from some African country at birth, but who knew how old he was¡­ or what he was? I could tell from his physical form that he must have spent years honing his body to perfection; his dark skin taught over bulging muscles that formed his body. Even for a supernatural being, he looked like the most physically dominating person I¡¯d ever seen¡­ in human form at least. His long, thick dreadlocks reminded me of the old predator movies like he was some kind of alien hunter from another world. Okay maybe only in hairstyle¡­ but still. The resemblance was striking. He had perfected his body, pushing it to the peak and beyond with whatever powers he possessed. But his eyes lingered on me, studying the blackness that swallowed mine whole.

    The frozen alley seemed to hum with a quiet menace, the silence crackling as they both stared at me. Charles, I could tell, was wary. The tension in his posture, the slight shifting of his weight¡­ he knew. He knew what I was capable of, and what I would do if pushed. But there was something else¡­

    The stranger, though, was different. He didn¡¯t have the same fear. Instead, there was something darker in his curiosity, an almost palpable hunger for understanding. A slow, knowing grin curled at the corner of his mouth as he looked between Charles and me, as if sensing the unspoken truths.

    "Do you know this man?" the stranger asked Charles, his voice smooth but laced with a subtle challenge. His eyes flickered between us, savoring the moment like he was on the cusp of unraveling some twisted secret. He re-examined my eyes, scratching his chin as he thought introspectively.

    Charles¡¯ jaw clenched, his fangs sliding out just enough to catch the light. Fear flickered, just for a heartbeat, and I saw it, his fast, animal-like instinct to survive. His usual cool demeanor was crumbling, ever so slightly, beneath the weight of whatever thoughts now raced through his head.

    The stranger¡¯s gaze never wavered, his eyes boring into Charles, demanding an answer. But I could see it¡­ Charles was trapped, caught between me and this other figure, the secrets he held pressing down on him like a suffocating weight. He knew he¡¯d been found out. The lie he¡¯d told, that I had been ¡°taken care of¡± when he first came to town. He looked like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

    The stranger¡¯s smile widened; an unsettling grin that hinted at something far more sinister than his words. His eyes gleamed as he turned to face me, studying me like I was some rare specimen. Each movement was deliberate, slow, as he began pacing around me, sizing me up with an air of superiority.

    "You''re something special, aren''t you?" His voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. He circled me like a predator, his eyes never leaving mine, watching for the slightest reaction. ¡°You''ve been causing quite a bit of trouble,¡± he added, the words dripping with amusement.

    His pacing stopped suddenly, and he glanced over at Charles, a mocking grin twisting his features. "Not as much trouble as old Charles here, though." He shot the vampire a pointed look, his tone almost casual, like we were all just having a friendly chat. But the atmosphere was anything but friendly, thick with tension and the unspoken threat lingering between us all.

    Charles tensed, and I could see it¡­ a flicker of something dark in his eyes. His face contorted, lips pulling back in a snarl as his eyes pulsed red. His fangs shot out with a swift, unnatural shift, his vampiric visage fully emerging. The air around him seemed to hum with the sudden, raw power of his transformation. Every muscle in his body was taut, coiled with aggression as he faced the stranger.

    Alex, standing beside me, shifted uneasily. I could sense her uncertainty, feel the confusion radiating off her. She knew something was off, something deeper than we had anticipated. Her eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, we shared the same unspoken question. What the hell is happening?

    But her expression told me enough, she knew as little as I did about the full extent of the situation unraveling in front of us. Whatever plan she had, it hadn¡¯t accounted for this. She had led them to me, but she didn¡¯t know what she was bringing.

    The stranger''s grin faded slightly, his expression growing colder as he squared off with Charles. "We''ve known for a while," he said, voice dropping to a more ominous tone. "That you''ve been dirtying your hands in tasks you were meant to complete. You were given time, Charles, tasks to perform before your end. But..." He paused, a dark amusement flickering behind his eyes. "I don¡¯t think the elders will find much fault in me for deciding that your time is up now."

    He adjusted his stance, sharp and purposeful, his body language shifting from casual to predatory. His eyes locked onto Charles, and in that moment, the threat was no longer veiled. It was a clear challenge.

    The alley seemed to shrink, the space between them narrowing, though neither moved. Every breath felt heavy with anticipation, every second stretching unbearably long. The air crackled with the tension of an inevitable clash, like two storms building to collide.

    Charles¡¯ eyes glowed brighter, the snarl deepening in his throat. The stranger¡¯s calm, collected demeanor was a stark contrast to the coiled violence in Charles'' form. Yet, beneath his stillness, I could feel it¡­ the stranger was just as deadly, just as ready to strike.

    There was no telling who would make the first move, but the weight of the impending violence hung over us all. I could sense it in every fiber of my being; the fragile line between tense negotiation and brutal conflict was about to snap.

    The stranger barely acknowledged me or Alex, his attention completely fixed on the silver-haired man standing in front of him. It was like we didn¡¯t exist in his world, our presence a mere afterthought in the face of something far more important. I could sense the undercurrent of power between him and Charles, a silent exchange that crackled in the air like static before a storm.

    Then, something strange happened.

    His dark skin began to ripple, a subtle, eerie movement that made my face contort in disgust. At first, it was just a faint twitch, like the scruff on an animal rising when it¡¯s provoked, but it quickly grew more pronounced. The surface of his flesh seemed to buckle, scrunching up in irregular waves as if something beneath his skin was struggling to break free. It was unsettling, unnatural¡­ the way his muscles and bones shifted underneath the surface, their movement hidden but unmistakable.

    A sudden wave of fluctuation spread across his entire body, a slow rolling tide of change that gripped him from head to toe. His very form seemed to quiver, and within the span of a few seconds, his entire frame began to shift. The transformation was eerily smooth like his flesh was being molded by invisible hands. His broad shoulders collapsed inward, muscles shrinking, bones grinding and readjusting with a sickening efficiency. His spine curved, cracking audibly as he hunched over, his once-powerful posture collapsing into something far smaller, weaker.

    I watched, transfixed, as he began to shrink, his towering height rapidly diminishing until what stood before us was no longer the muscular man who had exuded raw strength and menace. Instead, there stood a frail-looking old woman.

    Her white hair was cropped to her shoulders, strands dull and thin, swaying slightly as she moved. Her skin was paper-thin, old, and creased with deep lines, the texture like fragile parchment that seemed as though it would tear with the slightest touch. The veins beneath her skin were faintly visible, winding like delicate cracks across the surface. She exuded an eerie, unsettling presence that was somehow more menacing in her frailty than the towering figure she had been moments before.

    Her eyes, once sharp and vibrant, had faded to a dull silver; almost hollow, as though time itself had drained the color from them. They locked onto Charles with a strange, intense focus, unblinking as she studied him. There was something about her gaze, something that spoke of familiarity to Charles¡­ like he should recognize this woman.

    Charles, for all his strength and experience, seemed momentarily shaken by the transformation. He didn''t move, but I could see the faint flicker of shock in his eyes, the hesitation in his stance. Whoever this woman was¡­ whatever she represented¡­ it unnerved him, and that was enough to tell me that she was someone close to him.

    The silence in the tight alleyway stretched unbearably, the weight of her presence pressing down on us. It was as though the very air had grown thick and suffocating, heavy with the knowledge that we were standing before something far stranger, and far evil than Alex and I expected.

    Charles¡¯s expression twisted in disbelief, his usually composed face now frozen in shock. His eyes widened, recognition dawning as he stared at the frail figure before him. Whatever memory she dredged up from his past, had knocked the defiance from his posture. The sight of her seemed to chip away at the strength he had called upon.

    The elderly woman¡¯s voice was a raspy whisper, but the weight of her words cut through the cold night air like a knife. ¡°We¡¯ve known the reason for your betrayal for a while now, Charles... Your family, the ones you¡¯ve been trying to hide from us¡­¡± Her voice trembled with age, but there was something cold and knowing in it. The kind of tone that sent a chill down the spine, the kind that came from someone who had lived far too long and done far too much.

    In the dim, frozen alley, her features were even more unsettling. I could make out the coarse stubble that sprouted unevenly from her chin; just a few wiry hairs, longer than the rest, like the unfortunate quirks of aging flesh. It was such a mundane detail, yet in this context, it felt grotesque. This... thing had just morphed into an old woman, from the towering, muscular man before. How? My mind raced with questions¡­ how had she done that? How did she look exactly like him earlier? Was this her true form? Or was there no "real" form at all?

    She ignored Alex and me entirely, her attention consumed by Charles, as though we were insignificant insects beneath her notice. As she began to move, the very fabric of her being seemed to ripple and warp again. Her wrinkled, papery skin twisted unnaturally, limbs contorting as she walked, her frail body shifting in grotesque, liquid motion. The transformation was slow at first, painfully slow, as though every inch of her was fighting against itself.

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    I watched, horrified yet unable to look away, as blood and an oily black substance ran out from her pores, spilling across her flesh as it reshaped, and then retreating quickly inside. The changes spread across her form like a disease, distorting her limbs in ways that defied logic. Bones stretched and elongated, skin warping like melted wax, her entire body shuddering under the strain of the grotesque transformation. Whatever dark magic or ability she was using, it was like her very flesh was unraveling and reforming in exactly the way she wanted.

    Within moments, the frail woman was gone, replaced by something far more nightmarish.

    A tall, lanky figure now stood in the alley¡­ a man, but barely. His skin was sickly pale, almost translucent in the dim light, with uneven, pitch-black hair that hung in jagged strands around his gaunt face. His eyes were hollow, sunken into his skull, and his mouth curled into a twisted grin that sent a wave of revulsion through me.

    But it was his arm¡­ the arm that wasn¡¯t an arm anymore that truly sent a weird intrigue flooding through my mind.

    Halfway up his forearm, the skin had split open like overripe fruit, revealing raw muscle and exposed tendons beneath. The bone itself jutted out from the wound, twisted and warped unnaturally, transforming into a weapon forged from his own skeleton. The jagged edges of bone extended outward, flattened into the profile of a large, brutal blade. It was irregular and misshapen, yet disturbingly sharp, the edges glistening with a dark, oily substance that dripped steadily from the blade¡¯s tip. The liquid, thick and black, oozed like blood, but it carried with it an unnatural sheen, as though it was something far more specific.

    Whatever he¡­ it¡­ was, this thing before us was no ordinary being. Its very presence felt wrong, a dark mockery of human form. Every inch of him screamed danger, a violent predator barely contained by the thin veneer of flesh. And as his hollow, silver eyes fixated on Charles, I knew that whatever was about to happen next, there would be blood.

    The silence in the alley was deafening, the tension thick enough to suffocate. Charles, for all his power, stood frozen, his eyes locked on the monstrous figure that now paced before him. Whatever history they shared, whatever secrets had been buried, they were now laid bare, and the price for that betrayal was looming dangerously close.

    The old woman¡¯s voice vanished, replaced by a deep, guttural male voice to match the twisted form standing before us. ¡°I think it¡¯s time we call this a wrap,¡± he growled, his tone low and dripping with threat.

    And then he moved¡­ faster than I expected. He lunged at Charles with a brutal, animalistic fury, his body a blur of motion. The transformation had made him faster, stronger, and terrifyingly precise. His left hand shot out, fingers elongating grotesquely mid-stride. They stretched into prehensile tendrils of flesh, writhing and twisting like something from a nightmare. They coiled around Charles with shocking speed, wrapping him up in their web-like grasp. The tendrils seemed to melt and fuse together, mutating into a grotesque mass of meat and bone that bound Charles tight, trapping him like a fly caught in a spider¡¯s web.

    The man¡¯s arm, now a blade of twisted bone, gleamed with that oily sheen, raised high, ready to deliver the killing blow. The point of the jagged weapon aimed squarely at Charles¡¯s heart, its descent swift and brutal. My mind raced to comprehend the grotesque transformation I¡¯d just witnessed. The moment I knew I needed to make a move¡­ I got beat. Alex was already moving.

    While I stood there, dumbstruck and useless, she had sprung into action with the quick thinking that I should¡¯ve had, not the morbid curiosity. She darted toward the crumbling wall, yanking a rusted piece of metal from an old electrical box barely clinging to the alley wall. The steel panel screeched as it tore free, the rust flaking away in thick chunks as she wielded it like a makeshift ninja star.

    In one swift, fluid motion, Alex hurled the three-foot-long shard of metal with deadly accuracy. The rusted steel spun through the air, whistling like a blade, and connected with the creature¡¯s arm just above the elbow. The bone blade, poised to pierce Charles¡¯s chest, was severed clean off, the stump spraying dark, oily blood as the appendage tumbled to the ground.

    The creature roared in agony, a guttural sound that echoed off the alley walls and sent shivers down my spine. His grotesque arm fell to the cold ground with a sickening thud, still twitching as if it hadn¡¯t yet realized it was no longer attached. Dark fluid oozed from the severed limb, pooling beneath the discarded bone blade as the creature stumbled back, flailing the bleeding stump where his weapon had once been.

    The tendrils of flesh that had bound Charles began to unravel, melting away like wax under a flame. The instant the creature was struck, it seemed to lose control of the strange form it had woven around Charles, the flesh dissolving into a sludgy mess that slithered off his body and hit the ground with a sickening splatter. Charles stumbled free, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with shock but his mind already working, calculating.

    ¡°Get rid of that arm!¡± Charles shouted, his voice urgent, cutting through the creature¡¯s howls of pain. ¡°If he gets it back, he¡¯ll absorb it... and heal completely!¡± His warning was frantic but clear, the significance of it obvious. If we didn¡¯t destroy that severed limb, the creature would just reattach it, regenerating as though nothing had happened.

    The strange man¡­ no, thing, cursed under his breath, clutching his bleeding stump, and retreated a few steps. The look in his hollow eyes was one of rage, but beneath it, I saw something else. Panic. He hadn¡¯t planned for Alex, the far stronger anthropophagus vampire. Alex had caught him off guard, disrupted his plan, and now he was scrambling. But even with his arm missing, the threat he posed hadn¡¯t diminished.

    I snapped out of my stupor, heart pounding as I realized what had to be done. The creature wasn¡¯t finished yet, and if we didn¡¯t act quickly, we¡¯d be back at square one.

    I stopped fucking around. No more hesitation, no more standing like some dumb observer. I darted toward that grotesque, severed arm-blade. My heart was pounding, adrenaline surging at this strange turn of events. This was something new¡­ and it had me excited. The thing was still twitching on the ground, the bone clattering against the dumpster to its side as it spasmed. It was a mangled mess of oily blood, bone, and meat; something that shouldn''t even exist. But I didn¡¯t think¡­ I just acted.

    I grabbed the slick, bloody appendage, fingers slipping on the strange fleshy tendrils that still seemed half-alive, and lifted it. The jagged bone edge, sharp as hell and covered in that dark, viscous ooze, dug into my palm as I yanked it up. I could feel the unnatural cold of it, like touching a dead thing, lifeless yet brimming with some malevolent energy. It was nasty.

    I heaved the severed arm back and hurled it with every ounce of strength I had. It flew, spiraling wildly through the air like some grotesque missile, slicing through the night sky as it rocketed above the darkened alley. The thing sailed high, disappearing beyond the rooftops of the crumbling buildings, too far and fast for the creature to reclaim. I didn¡¯t know where it would land. Then I heard a sickening wet slap as the twisted limb hit pavement somewhere far beyond us. It was followed by a distant scream, sharp and panicked. I winced at the sound, of flesh smacking against concrete.

    The creature let out an enraged howl, a guttural, inhuman noise that echoed through the alley. His remaining hand clawed at the air, fingers trembling as if trying to will the severed limb back to him. But it was too late. That piece of him was gone¡­ lost in the dark, out of his reach.

    A flicker of something twisted crossed his face, frustration boiling beneath the surface as his hollow eyes darted from me to where the arm had disappeared. His chest heaved with labored breaths, oily blood still pouring from the stump where his bladed arm had once been. He wasn¡¯t dead, not yet. But the rage twisting his features told me he was about to make his next move.

    Alex and Charles tore into him with a savage fury that left no room for hesitation. They rushed him in a blur of vampiric speed, staying on the advantage. The second they had him pinned to the wall, it was pure, unrelenting carnage. Alex¡¯s razor-sharp claws plunged into his chest with brutal efficiency, over and over again, her face twisted in a snarl of bloodlust. Each time she pulled back, her hands came out dripping, clutching chunks of flesh and muscle that she ripped fresh from his body. The sick, wet sounds of tearing meat filled the alley, each brutal thrust splattering blood across the filthy brickwork. She was a monster made manifest, no hesitation, no remorse; she had a single-minded purpose¡­ destroy¡­ kill!

    The remnants of the man¡¯s severed arm, the grotesque stump that hung at his side, was already starting to regenerate. Long ropes of slimy, blood-slick tendons and sinew knitting together, trying desperately to form new muscle. It was a horrifying sight, watching the raw flesh stretch and twitch as if it had a mind of its own, inching toward rebuilding itself. But every time he struggled, every time he gathered the strength to resist, Charles was there, delivering bone-shattering blows that sent blood flying and flesh tearing.

    Charles, with a ferocity that spoke of his ancient nature, hammered his fists into the creature¡¯s face, ribs, and anything within reach. The vampire¡¯s strikes were powerful, each one landing with a nauseating crunch. His fists were smeared in gore, casting specks of blood and bone against the wall where they held him. The man howled in pain, his cries cutting through the night like the dying wail of something not quite human. This ancient vampire¡­ one of the oldest I¡¯d encountered, had to combine his strength with Alex¡¯s feral brutality just to hold him down. It was a bloody, desperate struggle. This thing was strong.

    Every piece of him they tore off was thrown across the alley, littering the ground like discarded trash. Limbs, chunks of flesh, entrails¡­ they scattered around me, splashing in puddles of blood, turning the alley into a butcher¡¯s nightmare. I wasn¡¯t fighting; I was there to keep those dismembered parts away from him. I stood watch over the oily masses of tissue, watching as the body parts twitched, a sick fascination twisting my gut. Every time they tore another piece of him free, I could see the effort his body made to regenerate¡­ to cling to life. But it was becoming harder for him, slower.

    His skin started to pale, the color draining as more of him was torn apart. The once vibrant, regenerating flesh turned sickly, limp. The severed pieces strewn across the alley began to rot. The flesh collapsed in on itself, decomposing in real-time, turning to a black, slimy mush. Chunks of muscle and bone dissolved into a putrid sludge, like rotting fruit that had been left too long in the sun. The stench of decay hit the air, thick and suffocating. His body lost the fight, piece by piece until all that was left of him was a spreading pool of oily, bloody muck.

    It seeped across the ground, dark and foul, like a rancid oil spill mixed with coagulated blood, spreading slowly through the alley as the remnants of his existence dissolved into nothing. It bled into the snow¡­ melting it, creating a stench that wafted up in the rising steam of his fluids.

    We all stood around the husk of what remained. Alex and Charles breathed deeply, actually pushing themselves as they fought this thing. I just stood there in the gore, almost completely clean.

    ¡°What the hell, Sam?¡± Alex snapped, glaring at me as she slung blood from her hands.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t help. You just stood there, kicking legs around,¡± she shot back, clearly annoyed.

    ¡°Someone had to do it,¡± I said with a grin.

    Charles, still catching his breath, cut in. ¡°He had to. If he didn¡¯t, that thing would¡¯ve reabsorbed the pieces. Shapeshifters are tough¡­ they can regenerate instantly if they touch what they¡¯ve lost.¡±

    ¡°That was a shapeshifter?¡± I asked, my mind flashing to Seth and his talk about the Chasse family being shapeshifters. I''d have to check in with him. See what he knew¡­ if he had faced them¡­ or maybe it was just something Peter told him.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Charles replied, his voice heavy. ¡°His name was Yanish.¡± He shook his head, clearly frustrated. ¡°This is bad¡­¡±

    ¡°Who was he? Why did he turn on you?¡± Alex asked. ¡°I thought you two were here for Sam.¡±

    ¡°He was... but I think he was also assigned to confirm my betrayal,¡± Charles said darkly. ¡°When they heard about another black-eyed creature killing vampires and slaughtering indiscriminately, they suspected it was the same kind they first sent me after. The elders put me back on the hunt, thinking I had... experience with your kind.¡± He glanced at me, tension in his expression. ¡°They¡¯ve always known I didn¡¯t kill you before, after you took down Mercy and Phineas. They knew that if something could kill them, I¡¯d have stood no chance. Yanish saw your black eyes, Sam. He knew. And if the elders see you, they¡¯ll know I lied. They probably already know¡­ or will very soon.¡± Charles paced, eyes flicking over the gory remnants on the ground.

    The frozen ground was starting to thaw completely, steam rising from the heat of the dissolving body and melting ice.

    ¡°We need to move,¡± Charles muttered. ¡°We can talk somewhere¡­ cleaner.¡± In a blink, he vanished, moving too fast for the human eye to see.

    Alex and I exchanged a look, then glanced down at the carnage.

    ¡°You owe me new clothes,¡± Alex said, holding up her arms, slick with blood and slime. Her jeans and shirt weren¡¯t faring any better.

    ¡°Me? Why? I didn¡¯t tell you to tear him apart.¡±

    ¡°You lured them here. Hence, your fault,¡± she shot back before disappearing in a blur, following Charles.

    I smirked, enjoying the banter, and chased after her, leaving the bloody alley behind.

 Chapter 73 - Descend

    I found Alex and Charles by the manhole, their shadows splayed in the narrow, hazy glow of the streetlight. Charles was down on one knee, hands grinding through layers of frost and grit as he chipped at the ice that had seized the cover in place. I moved into the ring of faint light, and they knew I was there before I even arrived. They''d felt the disturbance in the air.

    Alex¡¯s head twisted to look over her shoulder, her gaze cutting through me. "Charles," she droned on, her tone laced with a taunt, "maybe our lazy ass friend here would like to take a crack at this thing? Y''know, since we¡¯ve been carrying all the weight." She smirked, a jab meant to dig under my skin. I could tell she wasn¡¯t bringing it up because Charles couldn¡¯t do it, he was strong as hell. No, this was her petty payback. She was still fuming over her bloody stained clothes. She wasn¡¯t going to let me forget about it.

    Charles kept his focus, not saying a word as he worked his way through another stubborn layer of ice. The tension between Alex and me crackled like a live wire above him, and I knew he could feel it too. But he didn¡¯t stop; he just kept working, face set like stone.

    ¡°Oh, Alex,¡± I replied, letting the sarcasm drip. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to get your hands dirty.¡± I made a show of looking her up and down, smirking as I continued. ¡°You should really be more careful where you just show up, dressed like that.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed, and she scoffed, rolling them in Charles¡¯s direction as if he was some silent ally in her irritation. ¡°Cute,¡± she said flatly, not even looking at me as she adjusted her shirt with an exaggerated sigh. The silence stretched between us, thick with unsaid things and her grudge simmering just below the surface.

    Even with Charles¡¯s superhuman strength, lifting the manhole cover was a feat of ingenuity. The ice had fused the heavy metal disc into its frame, sealing every gap with a crystalline layer that glinted in the faint light. It wasn¡¯t just frozen in place; the ice had formed a compact dome, filling every crevice of the rim. Charles knelt, his powerful frame hunched as he dug his fingers into the edges. He scraped away in determined silence, his breaths visible in the cold air.

    When scraping wasn''t enough, he balled his fist and slammed it dead center on the metal disc. A sharp, echoing clang split the silence as shockwaves rippled through the cover, cracking the ice webbing outward in jagged lines. The impact¡¯s vibration shook the frost loose, rattling the cover just enough that he could finally wedge his fingers into the thin slots around the edge. With a final, guttural grunt, Charles wrenched it up, and the ice creaked and fractured, revealing a yawning, shadowed mouth leading into the city¡¯s underbelly.

    He braced the heavy cover open, glancing at Alex, who didn¡¯t hesitate for even a second. With a gleeful defiance, she hopped in, arms tucked, and disappeared into the dark like it was her playground.

    I counted a beat or two, giving her time to get clear. Then, leaning forward, I lowered myself with a little more care, my shoulders too broad for the narrow entry to simply drop in like she had. But once I felt myself clear the edge, gravity claimed me, and I fell, ten feet or so, boots hitting the damp ground with a solid thud. The dark swallowed everything, but my black eyes flared to life, cutting through the shadows, and bathing the passage in an eerie, ghostly glow. Every rivulet in the damp walls, each rusty bolt and chipped concrete detail, sprang into sharp clarity, as though the darkness had been peeled back just for me.

    I took a step to the side, making room for Charles, who swiftly lowered the manhole cover back into place with a resonant clang. A gust of air swept down as he followed, descending with a quiet, powerful grace. He landed almost silently, his momentum absorbed in a fluid crouch that transitioned immediately into a stride, his intensity cutting through the claustrophobic silence.

    ¡°This way,¡± he ordered, his tone allowing no-nonsense as he led the way forward, all business. His figure was a dark silhouette moving ahead with deadly intent.

    Alex and I look at each other, a question, and glance and both of our eyes. Alex slightly shrugged and then walked behind Charles. I followed Alex and we were starting to make our way to wherever Charles was leading us.

    After a few minutes of walking through the dim, damp tunnel in silence, I finally spoke up. ¡°Who was the woman?¡± I asked. ¡°There was something in your expression¡­ like you knew her.¡±

    Charles stopped abruptly, his jaw clenched, eyes dark with something raw. He leaned against the concrete wall, breathing slow, as though steadying himself. ¡°Her name was Barb,¡± he said, voice strained. ¡°We were¡­ bonded. Family.¡± His words faltered, a shadow of grief slipping through his normally steely demeanor.

    Alex¡¯s breath hitched, surprising me. In the short time I¡¯d known her, I hadn¡¯t seen this depth of emotion from her, nor this tenderness toward Charles.

    ¡°Was this your family?¡± she asked quietly. ¡°The one Martin said you¡¯d found like he did?¡±

    Charles nodded, the pain etched in the lines of his face. He seemed caught in an internal struggle, the weight of unsaid words pressing heavily on him. After a deep breath, Alex spoke, voice low and measured, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Charles. I don¡¯t know what that means for you¡­ but I am.¡±

    Confused, I leaned toward Alex and whispered, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them, feeling Charles¡¯s awareness, even if he didn¡¯t look my way.

    ¡°She¡¯s dead, you idiot,¡± Alex hissed, casting a glare at me that warned me to shut up before I made things worse. My face was downcast as I sighed in instant regret.

    Charles, thankfully, spared me from my own ignorance. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Alex,¡± he murmured, exhaling slowly as he drew himself up. He spoke with quiet resolve, ¡°Sam¡­ shapeshifters don¡¯t just take forms at random. They have to¡­ absorb them.¡± He paused as if the words themselves were like glass shards. ¡°To take someone¡¯s form, they need to¡­ kill them, to consume them.¡±

    The full weight of what he meant crashed into me. The woman I¡¯d seen¡­ it wasn¡¯t her. The shapeshifter had taken Barb¡¯s form, someone Charles had loved, only revealing her death to him in that twisted, horrifying moment.

    I stared down at the damp ground, the silence heavy. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry,¡± was all I could manage. The words felt hollow, inadequate.

    Charles¡¯s eyes bore into me, something piercing beneath his grief. ¡°She had cancer¡­ diagnosed a year ago. She didn¡¯t have much time left. But to be taken in that way¡­¡± he trailed off. But I knew what he thought. He just hoped it was quick. ¡°Have you been killing for a reason, Sam? Is this¡­ are you trying to get caught?¡±

    I swallowed hard at his loss. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to get your attention¡­ like before. I need to go down,¡± I told him. ¡°To the pits.¡±

    He narrowed his eyes, trying to connect the dots. ¡°You want to face the elders?¡± His voice was edged with warning, as though even speaking the words summoned danger.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, unwavering.

    Charles studied me, eyes deep with a mix of pity and foreboding. ¡°Do you have any idea what¡¯s down there?¡±

    ¡°If I did, I¡¯d be down there already,¡± I said, the frustration sharp in my tone. ¡°I just haven¡¯t figured out how to reach the deeper caverns yet.¡±

    Charles¡¯s gaze narrowed, his eyes flickering as he considered my nod. ¡°So, you¡¯ve been trying to get to them for a while now,¡± he murmured, the realization settling over him. His mouth set into a grim line as he looked back up at me, his stare unyielding. ¡°You really think you can go down there and kill them, don¡¯t you? You have no doubts.¡± The last words came out flat, almost as if he wasn¡¯t asking but stating a fact.

    I held his gaze and nodded.

    A bitter smile touched Charles¡¯s lips. ¡°For my family¡¯s sake,¡± he muttered. Then, with a quick, purposeful motion, he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, exposing his inner wrist. The skin there bore a blood-red brand, twisted and thorny, like the silhouette of a spider fused with an ancient hieroglyph. The mark was raised, raw, covering the width of his wrist; a silent testament to his past.

    ¡°I can¡¯t go with you,¡± he said, voice tight. ¡°But I can get you in. If I return without Tanish, they¡¯ll know. And if they already suspect me of treason, going back would be suicide.¡±

    Alex frowned, her brow knitting. ¡°How are we supposed to navigate that place without you?¡±

    Charles shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve only been allowed in certain areas. That¡¯s all they¡¯d ever show me. But you need to understand this isn¡¯t just some underground lair. Once you realize what that place really is, it¡¯ll be easier to understand. The pits go deep, but they aren¡¯t just a cave.¡± He paused, eyes grave. ¡°It¡¯s a body.¡±

    The words lingered in the air, thick and unsettling.

    I interrupted, ¡°Wait, what do you mean ¡®we¡¯?¡± I locked eyes with Alex, confusion etched on my face. ¡°You can¡¯t go with me!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to let you have all the fun,¡± she shot back, her tone unapologetic. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re heading down there, but I know why I want to. It¡¯s gonna be a buffet! So many of those fucking leeches down there... they¡¯ll be all mine. So many creatures to kill! I¡¯m not asking,¡± she insisted, a fierce gleam in her eyes. ¡°Plus, you¡¯ll probably need me, you inexperienced little boy.¡± She shot her words at me like an insult meant to rile me up.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    My monster bristled, wanting to assert that I didn¡¯t need her help. Yet, a part of me craved her company, craving a companion for the dark journey ahead. I had never expected it would be Alex. Our relationship had always been volatile, to say the least, each of us sizing the other up for a potential kill if one crossed a line. But lately, she had grown on me, and I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t want her along¡­ despite her touchy attitude at times. She seemed less resistant now, and that change intrigued me. There was so much that intrigued me about her past¡­ and her history that she scarcely shared.

    I nodded to her and stopped arguing the point. She was coming.

    ¡°A body?¡± I repeated, glancing at Alex, but her expression remained unreadable.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Charles replied, almost reluctantly, as though each word chipped away at a terrible truth. ¡°The pits are the hollowed remains of something ancient, older than anything we know. Saint Louis itself¡­ it¡¯s built over the corpse of this creature.¡±

    My heart thudded. Primeval¡­ The word whispered through my mind, heavy as a curse. Could it be? ¡°Is it¡­ dead?¡±

    ¡°Dead and not,¡± Charles answered. ¡°It doesn¡¯t move or act, but there¡¯s a power there, a lingering presence. The walls, the rock¡­ they pulse with energy like veins still carrying blood. We call it the Great Spider,¡± he said, glancing at the brand on his wrist. ¡°People say the pits are arranged like a spider on its back, its legs spread beneath the city. Entrances are hidden around the city¡¯s edge, and the caves beneath the city connect the entrances like an underground network. It¡¯s a refuge¡­ safe from sunlight, from prying human eyes, a place for those who don¡¯t belong aboveground¡­ and aren¡¯t welcomed within the pits.¡± He gestured into the dark. ¡°The spider rests on its back, legs splayed out, reaching up. Once you¡¯re inside, all you do is descend. You¡¯ll travel through its leg until you reach the deepest part¡­ the core.¡± He paused, a strange look crossing his face. ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯ll find the elders¡­ the oldest and most dangerous of them. The place itself feeds them, strengthening their power. They never leave; they send others to carry out their will above.¡±

    Alex¡¯s voice cut through the quiet, sharp as a blade. ¡°How many of them are there?¡±

    Charles¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Nine in total. But one of them, the ninth, rules over the rest¡­ a true Elder.¡±

    Alex pressed on, undeterred. ¡°So, can we get down there without being noticed, or is it going to be a fight all the way?¡±

    Charles¡¯s silence spoke volumes, the grim look in his eyes answering her question better than words ever could.

    Charles¡¯s face was grave as he continued, his gaze steady yet distant, as if he could see the twisting corridors of rock beneath our feet. ¡°There are those down there who might notice you, suspect you don¡¯t belong, but most keep to themselves, seeking passage from one edge of the city to the other. They don¡¯t dare descend below the first few layers of the core¡­ the body¡­hardly anyone does anymore.¡± His mouth quirked in a grim smile. ¡°And if they do, it¡¯s not out of curiosity. It¡¯s out of need, fear, or worse.¡±

    He gave me a sharp look. ¡°Your presence has been felt there for a while now. You¡¯ve made a reputation for yourself¡­ the unnamed monster prowling our streets, the thing that haunts just at the edge of their petrified fortress. Some hide away deep within.¡± A shadow flickered over his face. ¡°But no one dares linger near the true depths. Their fear of the Elders is far greater than their fear of you. Only those chosen¡­ those granted permission, ever see their chambers. Once you¡¯re inside, be on your guard. The confrontation is inevitable. And with you two,¡± he shot Alex a weary, knowing look, ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s all but guaranteed.¡±

    I nodded, feeling the weight of his words, and Alex mirrored the motion with a resolute grimace. Charles seemed to gather himself, though his gaze lingered, haunted by the recent loss of his elderly friend, her face perhaps etched behind his eyes. He drew in a heavy breath. ¡°We should move. The entrance is close.¡±

    Without another word, we plunged forward, the three of us moving through the dank, echoing sewers, where every step stirred a chill and the air grew colder as if drawn from deep within the bowels of something ancient and unspeakable. As we traveled further, the man-made pipes and walls gradually morphed into natural rock formations, twisting caverns, rough-hewn stone, walls draped with creeping veins of moisture. This was the transitional space, where human infrastructure melted into the unnatural sanctuary below.

    I cast my eyes around, noting the difference between these pockets and the rougher walls surrounding them. Now that I understood more of what lay below, I could almost sense the subtle shifts in the rock. Some parts were mere hollows, geological quirks, but others¡­ others felt almost sculpted. As if some invisible hand had chiseled pathways and chambers, hollowing out corridors for travel between this world and the body of the ancient entity below. If this spider truly was as enormous as Charles claimed, its corpse had been here for thousands, maybe even tens of thousands of years. A colossal, sleeping beast, woven into the very foundation of Saint Louis. And no one up there knew.

    The thought struck me with sudden horror, sinking in my chest like a weight. The Primeval¡­ Could this spider be another one of them? Maybe dead, or perhaps merely dormant. What if it stirred to life? Even a slight movement of its limbs, an inch, even less would bring ruin to everything above. The entire city would shatter, its streets would turn to dust, and every living soul crushed beneath the impossible weight of its awakening.

    Another stray thought came, rattling me: was this why Death had taken the blade from me? Why he couldn¡¯t follow me here? Could the blade¡¯s presence alone be enough to alert this sleeping titan? If it awoke¡­ would it rise to fight, as the Primeval had in the other realm?

    Our pace slowed. I sensed we were nearing our destination, the air growing colder, sharper as if chilled by the bones of the earth itself. Charles¡¯s resolve was palpable, but even beneath his calm exterior, I could sense a gnawing fear. I knew the moment we split up, he would bolt back to his own friends and family, desperate to find them alive and unassimilated by the shapeshifters. That hope was all that kept him going.

    ¡°Are there other shapeshifters down there?¡± I asked, my voice hushed.

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Charles replied, glancing back with a grim certainty. ¡°This place is a haven for all kinds of creatures. Some you know; others¡­ well, you¡¯ll see. But don¡¯t waste your strength fighting everything. If you try to take on every monster down there, you¡¯ll be buried before you reach the elders. Get in, find them, kill them. Cut off the head, and the body will fall.¡±

    ¡°Or we could just pull their limbs off and stomp their heads in,¡± Alex added, her tone casual, a smirk tugging at her lips. ¡°Makes more sense, doesn¡¯t it?¡± She was primed for a fight.

    Charles¡¯s mouth quirked in reluctant agreement. ¡°Yes, well¡­ I suppose that¡¯s another way to put it.¡± He sighed. ¡°But listen¡­ there are other shapeshifters down there, one of the elders especially, and its power¡¯s beyond anything we¡¯ve seen, even in Yanish. Every time they assimilate someone or something, they add to their reserves. Tear a chunk off, and they can pull from that mass to heal right back up. The longer they live, the worse it gets. They end up with nearly endless reserves, almost unstoppable.¡± His voice dropped as if the weight of what we were facing pressed down on him. ¡°That¡¯s why they¡¯re hunted by others¡­ nobody wants them growing too powerful. But that¡¯s not your problem right now. Just keep one thing in mind¡­ when you tear into them, don¡¯t let them gather the pieces. They¡¯re like magnets. The bits pull back together if you let them.¡±

    I nodded, absorbing his words, then glanced at Alex. She shot me a look¡­ one of those sarcastic little smirks that said she was humoring me but we would need to work together down there.

    Charles stepped forward, lifting his hand to press against a bare patch of cave wall. It was nondescript, blending in perfectly with the surrounding rock; no signs, no markings. For a second, nothing happened. But then, with a focused twist of his wrist and a surge of his vampiric power, the stone itself groaned and cracked. A fine seam split the wall, thin and jagged, running up from the floor and stretching nearly ten feet high. Dust and fragments crumbled off as the crack widened, revealing a narrow passage, just three or four feet across at its widest point. It¡¯d be a tight squeeze for anyone, so I turned sideways, preparing to slip in just to get a peek after so much time spent trying to get in.

    But Charles¡¯s hand shot out, grabbing my arm. His grip was iron-strong, his gaze dead serious. ¡°One last thing, Sam. Once you¡¯re inside, you¡¯re trapped. Only those with the mark can let you out, and you¡¯re not getting that mark if you do what you say you¡¯ll do. Don¡¯t go slaughtering everyone unless you want to be locked in there forever. You¡¯ll need someone alive to open the door.¡±

    I nodded, though I hesitated. ¡°I¡­ wasn¡¯t exactly planning to go in right this second.¡± My mind jumped to Carter, Eleanor, Autumn, and everyone I¡¯d leave behind if I went down there now. Chaos was already ripping through their lives. ¡°There are things I need to handle, people I need to check on. I need them to know where I¡¯m going¡­ if I don¡¯t make it out.¡±

    Charles¡¯s face hardened, the weariness in his eyes replaced by a sense of urgency. ¡°It¡¯s now or never, Sam. Once I leave here, I¡¯m not coming back. I have to find my family, to see if any of them are still alive. I¡¯m gone after that. And if you don¡¯t go in now, it¡¯ll be too late. Soon enough, they¡¯ll realize Yanish is dead. They¡¯ll send someone else. This is your shot. Take it, or lose it.¡±

    I looked at Alex, gauging her reaction. Her eyes were fierce, her stance solid. She was ready¡­ eager, even. She didn¡¯t have anyone tying her back, no one she needed to see one last time. The thought of the fight, of tearing into something that had preyed on so many, seemed to bring her to life. She nodded at me, fierce and unflinching. She was all in like this was the one thing she was made to do.

    I shook my head, teeth clenched as a sharp breath escaped my lips. I had to do this. Deep within my bones, the Primeval surged, a dark force demanding action.

    DESCEND!

    KILL!

    It echoed in my mind, a sinister chant that ignited a primal rage I couldn¡¯t ignore.

    I didn¡¯t need convincing; the weight of its presence was a heavy mantle, pushing me forward. ¡°Then we do this now,¡± I said, my voice low and resolute. ¡°But, Charles, you need to tell Carter. He has to know where I am, and what I¡¯m doing. Make sure he stays hidden. I can¡¯t let anything bleed out from the pits and endanger him and his family.¡±

    Charles nodded a grave understanding in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure he knows. Martin as well¡­¡± he added as his eyes shifted to Alex.

    Her look was sincere as she said, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Alex and I exchanged one last glance, the air thick with unspoken resolve before our gazes shifted back to the jagged opening that stretched wide before us, like a gaping maw filled with sharp teeth. I nodded to her, a silent promise that we were in this together. She mirrored the gesture, her determination echoing my own.

    I stepped forward first, shouldering through the narrow passage into the darkness that had eluded me for so long. As I slipped into the pit, the razor-sharp edges of rock loomed around us, each jagged point a promise of death for most. We pressed on, the air thick with foreboding mystery.

    After about twenty feet, I broke into a wider opening, the darkness enveloping me like a shroud, so deep that even my enhanced vision struggled to penetrate it. The blackness was alive, wrapping around me, pulling me into its embrace. Moments later, Alex slipped in behind me, her hand pressing firmly against my shoulder.

    ¡°Can you see in here?¡± she asked, a hint of concern threading through her voice as it whispered in my ear.

    Before I could answer, the passage behind us clinched shut with a bone-deep groan, like the earth itself was swallowing us whole. The sound of shifting stone rattled in the silence, the jagged teeth locking together, sealing us in.

    This was it. We had entered a new domain¡­ one filled with shadows and dangers beyond our comprehension. But I felt the Primeval inside me stir, urging me forward. It thrummed with anticipation, and with each heartbeat, the bloodlust grew stronger. This was not merely a descent into darkness; it was a descent into violence, and I was ready to embrace it.

 Chapter 74 - Shared Memories

    The darkness around us gradually faded, revealing each other in the dim light at the same moment. It wasn¡¯t a typical kind of darkness¡­ more like a thick veil had settled over us, dense and unnatural. The walls surrounding us were streaked with veins of reddish light, a sluggish life force seeping through the stone as if it were part of some ancient, dormant creature. There was an appetite in those veins, a deep, monstrous energy that seemed to pulse faintly, as though awakening after a long slumber.

    ¡°This is¡­ weird,¡± Alex said, her voice low, unnerved. ¡°I¡¯ve never been unable to see like that before. Not in this life¡­¡± she referred to her time as a vampire.

    ¡°Yeah, I couldn¡¯t see anything either,¡± I replied, my voice edged with surprise. ¡°That¡¯s a first for me too.¡± It wasn¡¯t just darkness¡­ it was something else.

    Alex took a slow, steady breath, her gaze distant as she focused on the air around us. ¡°It feels¡­ heavy¡­ like the air is thicker. There¡¯s a presence here,¡± she spoke out what she was feeling. ¡°Something that just sits in the back of your mind.¡±

    I mirrored her, taking in the atmosphere. The air had a taste¡­ metallic, sharp, almost bloody. The flavor settled uneasily at the back of my throat as I glanced around. That¡¯s when I noticed the passageway to our left. It narrowed and sloped down, squeezing into a tiny point, too small for either of us to fit through. On our right, though, the path widened and stretched forward, turning from a cramped hall into a cavernous space, more like a subway tunnel than anything man-made. The rough, jagged stone had an odd kind of symmetry to it; organic yet hostile. It looked like it had grown this way, stretching out in some twisted resemblance of life itself. It echoed what Charles had warned us about¡­ that we were walking inside a body.

    The rough stone walls glistened faintly with streaks of dark, congealed crimson, as though something had bled and hardened along its jagged veins ages ago. The light itself wasn¡¯t quite natural; it seemed to pulse and shift in sync with the chilling atmosphere, casting everything in an ominous, blood-tinged hue.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said, glancing at Alex as I stepped forward, ¡°guess we go this way.¡± The widening tunnel yawned before us, bathed in that sickly red glow.

    We moved ahead in silence, the air thickening as we went, like something tangible pressed down on us. The red lines in the stone gave the place a nightmarish feel, like something out of Nightmare on Elm Street. It was like we were wandering through Freddy¡¯s boiler room. The deeper we went, the more intense that sensation became, until it felt like the walls themselves were watching us. Alex and I kept our eyes peeled, alert to every sound, every shadow that flickered in the dim, pulsing light. I could see her tension; knew she was on edge at the thought of more shapeshifters. She hated them¡­ at least it seemed so. I wasn¡¯t particularly worried, though¡­ I had faced worse, and my perspective was darker than hers, hardened by the even darker shadows that lingered closely to me. Even if it was just me here, with only my inner monster as backup, I wasn¡¯t about to flinch. I had a job to do¡­ and I was about to fuck this place up.

    The tunnel stretched on and on, every step carrying us deeper into the dim, red glow that lined the stone walls like veins under skin. The air grew colder, heavier, pressing down on us with each passing minute. We trudged down the sloping path, our footsteps echoing in the silence. The ground beneath shifted from rough, craggy rock to uneven patches of jagged stone that were flecked with streaks of crimson. The color hinted at something long dormant, something that hadn¡¯t moved in ages but was waiting¡­ still alive.

    Time seemed to warp as we descended; minutes bled into what felt like hours, and still, the tunnel stretched onward, swallowing us whole. Our breaths came slower, the metallic taste of the air growing stronger, and thicker with every step. My senses dulled slightly from the monotony, lulled by the hypnotic repetition of steps, the sound of loose rocks crunching underfoot, and the pulse of the red light, like a faint, distant heartbeat echoing from within the walls around us.

    After what could have been miles¡­ or maybe just hundreds of yards, it was impossible to tell in this place, the silence became more oppressive than the walls. It was almost as though the tunnel itself was watching, listening, waiting for us to let down our guard. But the slope didn¡¯t let up, guiding us deeper, always deeper, the way ahead widening just slightly with every few yards, teasing us with the hope of a destination that never came.

    Finally, Alex broke the silence, her voice low and cautious, as though afraid of waking something that had long since fallen asleep. ¡°What¡¯s the plan, anyway?¡±

    I glanced at her, keeping my voice even as we continued forward. ¡°Plan?¡±

    Alex¡¯s steps slowed beside me, a subtle unease radiating from her. She gave me some side-eye, her mouth set in a thin line, and muttered, ¡°Yeah¡­ plan,¡± as if saying the word might make one miraculously appear. ¡°Most people would have a plan before they go on some crazy suicide mission.¡± Her voice dripped with annoyance as she rolled her eyes, clearly not thrilled by my relaxed approach.

    I shrugged, the faintest smirk tugging at my lips. ¡°I don¡¯t really need an intricate plan,¡± I replied easily. ¡°Just going down to the Elders¡­ transform, and kill them. Simple,¡± I said with a shrug, like it was just another day on the job.

    She stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing as she turned to block my path. ¡°Hold on. We need to figure out how this is going down before we go any further.¡± Her voice was sharper, with an edge of exasperation as she stared me down.

    I paused, not particularly eager to argue, but before I could respond, something flickered at the edge of my vision. My words died on my tongue as I looked past her, my attention caught by a strange, faint glow on the petrified wall behind her. It was a swirling, circular pattern of red embedded deep within the stone, like a vortex of light. It pulsed, hypnotic and steady, luring me in with a silent, dangerous promise. I couldn¡¯t tell if the light was within the stone or if something was glowing behind it, hidden, as if waiting to break through.

    Without a word, I drifted away from her, barely aware of my own movement. My feet carried me toward the wall, drawn like a moth to a flame, my mind blank to anything else around me. I felt the monster''s hand at the wheel¡­ moving me¡­ guiding my steps.

    Alex¡¯s voice broke through my trance, laced with confusion. ¡°What is it?¡± She turned, looking back at the wall, searching for whatever had seized my attention. Her brows furrowed in frustration when her gaze met nothing out of the ordinary. She glanced back at me, her irritation replaced with bewilderment. ¡°What? What are you seeing?¡±

    Somehow, she couldn¡¯t see it. Only I could. I barely registered her confusion as I stepped closer, the glow washing over me in deeper, darker shades. An ominous thrum of force vibrating in my ears¡­ my body. My hand reached out on its own, pressing against the cool surface of the stone. The instant my palm touched it, everything vanished in a blinding flash, swallowed up by an all-consuming white light.

    <hr>

    I skittered thunderously across the barren, raw terrain, moving with purpose. No time to pause, no chance to look back. Beneath my focused intent, a gnawing feeling of dread clawed at the edges of my mind, a primal sense that even I could not ignore. I was the embodiment of hunger itself, yet I could feel it, like a storm on the horizon¡­ the end. The sense of looming demise, an unstoppable force creeping closer with each passing second. Something even more powerful than the greatest of us.

    My brothers and sisters had known it too. We¡¯d felt it in our very bones, that ancient calling set deep within us from the beginning of time, a reckoning that couldn¡¯t be avoided. But when the moment came, we rebelled, refused to submit to our fate. We, the Primevals, wouldn¡¯t lay down our power, wouldn¡¯t fade as mere echoes of what we once were. This world was ours, and we would rule it, come whatever may. There was no need to question or justify our defiance; we knew what we were. What I was.

    Yet here I was, driven across the Earth, fleeing from something¡­ what it was¡­ I was unsure. Myoordrakien, the eldest and embodiment of destruction had torn through the land at our rebellion. He¡¯d hunt us down, one by one. Our youngest brother, Carrossisarx, the Primeval of Flesh and Bone, had fallen first, his form torn asunder. Myoordrakien was relentless¡­ doom that left nothing in his wake but silence and void. I knew my only chance lay beneath the surface, in depths untouched by time. If I could burrow deep enough, nestle within the Earth¡¯s bedrock, perhaps I could slip from his grasp, survive this purge.

    Some of my siblings had abilities that allowed them to escape entirely, shifting into hidden realms of their own making, slipping through dimensions, like shadows cast from the real world. But I lacked such refuge. My only escape was down, into the Earth, into silence and slumber. There, my presence could blend with the land, hiding me from our eldest¡¯s merciless wrath. If I buried myself deep enough, I might sleep through this extinction, allowing my children, those born to carry my hunger, to roam the world. Waiting for the right time to surface, reclaiming the land once I rose.

    When I reached the remotest part of the world, where no eyes could spy me, I began to dig. My eight legs, massive and gnarled, struck the ground with force, ripping apart the earth with each swipe, tearing through forests, sending mountains crumbling. Ancient trees shattered, beasts scurried, their lives snuffed out as I carved out my sanctuary. Those that survived the devastation were soon pulled into my maw; I needed their essence to sustain my slumber. I breathed deeply, pulling in the life force around me. It drifted to me from every direction, red streams of energy drawn from the earth, the trees, the plains themselves. The vibrant, potent life seeped into me, filling my hunger for now, a mere taste of what I would need to survive this long sleep.

    As my legs dug down, churning soil and rock, I shifted my needs, feeling the sharp, sweet call of blood. It tainted the air, metallic and ripe, filling my senses. I opened my maw, inhaling deeply, and watched as streams of crimson mist, each drop drawn from every creature, every corpse, surged toward me in a torrent of blood. They fed my hunger in waves, the liquid vitality filling my belly as I readied myself for what lay ahead.

    But hunger wasn¡¯t satisfied with mere blood; I needed flesh as well. My fangs, long and serrated, extended further, ready to consume all that the land would offer. I breathed deeply again, and the lifeless remains of all I had felled began to shift, breaking apart in ribbons of sinew and bone, thick rivers of flesh and gristle pouring into my gaping jaws. It filled me again and again, a gruesome feast for my empty belly, an offering for the long wait ahead. It wasn¡¯t what I craved in full, but it would have to suffice.

    I lowered myself slowly, my enormous form sinking inch by inch into the hollow I had carved. With my body nestled in the pit, I turned onto my back, limbs folding in as I settled deeper. The world above me would soon forget I was ever here. I reached out, pulling the rubble and soil over myself, the last scraps of earth closing around me like a shroud. Only the tips of my legs still poked out above the ground, dark and still like tall trees lending in the forest. I bent them inward, sinking further until I was completely hidden, my massive body locked within the earth''s crust, masked from the eyes of any that might seek me.

    If something had killed Myoordrakien¡­ Annihilation itself¡­ then I had no choice. Even my boundless hunger was no match for the force that prowled, hunting each of us. Slowly, I let my lids droop, the darkness closing in as I withdrew my senses, quieting the gnawing hunger that always lived within me.

    Then, finally, my eyes closed, and I fell into the deep, eternal slumber of the earth, waiting for a day that I might rise again.

    <hr>

    Eons had passed since I last moved, since the dust of ages settled over me and silence claimed my form. Time¡¯s endless passage felt foreign to me, though my presence persisted in a slumber haunted by vague awareness. My essence clung to a single relic of life¡­ a core untouched by time or treachery, a heart that never ceased; encased within layers of bone and armored chitin. It beat with relentless hunger, trapped within a vast tomb of my own making, and pulsed with an endless, unmet craving. I was bound within myself, unable to stir, yet too aware to truly rest. The only place I existed¡­ was within my core.

    I reached out with what remained of my mind, hoping to breathe, to move, to feel. But there was only emptiness. A void where my powers once roared. Over the unyielding ages, my children had come upon my petrified body, weaving structures, and creating worlds around me as they grew. Their whispers filled the night, voices that called to me through eons of solitude. And though my form lay still, I could see through them, perceive the new world that flourished beyond the Primevals, beyond the old, merciless order we had once held.

    Once, we ruled every aspect of existence. The earth, skies, and oceans¡­ all wore our imprint. But now, what we embodied had spread, fractured, and diminished. My children had thrived without me. The first of them bore my form, eight-legged shadows cast in my image, yet unlike me in crucial ways. Their hunger was not whole, each bound to a single craving¡­ blood, flesh, spirit. They were fractured facets of my ancient appetite, specialized creatures who stalked the world with singular desires: hearts, brains, sinew, blood. Each branch more diverse, and more numerous than I could have imagined. A twisted pride welled up within me as I watched them, weak¡­ yet legion. Thriving in a world where I could not.

    Then I felt it. My children ventured too close, their hands scratching, scraping, burrowing deeper into my flesh. My petrified shell became their focus, but it was not enough. They broke within me¡­ invading me from within and breached my inner sanctum. They invaded what little life remained in me. I lay frozen, helpless as they devoured me from within, drinking my blood, tearing my body apart, and carving out their domains within my hollowed form. They stole the stones from my mind chamber¡­ nine in total¡­ each a part of me torn away, devoured by those who claimed them. I felt them, my own bloodlines, grow powerful, monstrous. They stopped their midnight whispers, no longer heeding my call, treating me as a lifeless husk. My children, the fruits of my own hunger, had consumed me and left me empty. A prisoner in my own body, I lay there, alone in a silence that stretched into eternity.

    In that silence, my mind drifted to darker memories. I remembered the days when our kind ruled without question. Some among us defied the natural order, whispering of a future where we would never surrender our power. We met in shadows, knowing even our thoughts of rebellion could summon our eldest brother, our doom. Myoordrakien, the Annihilator, the Ender of All Things. His very name was an omen, and the earth he claimed was a place scorched, blackened beyond life. I had seen him only once, passing overhead like a living eclipse, darkening the world in his wake. That day, he¡¯d slain our youngest, Carrossisarx, the Primeval of Flesh and Bone, his body left broken and ruined. And as he flew above me, he saw me. Beneath that obliterated sky, his gaze fell upon me like the weight of a thousand deaths, and I knew then that he would one day claim me too.

    When the rebellion came, I held no hope against him. Yet there was talk, rumors that he had been destroyed, obliterated in an instant by a force none of us could comprehend. Our greatest terror was gone, wiped from existence as though he¡¯d never been. But with his death came something worse, an annihilation colder and sharper, a void we couldn¡¯t name. It was then I ran, fearing this unknown end that had felled even the mightiest among us. If he, the scourge of our kind, had been erased without a trace, what hope did I have?

    Now I am but a heart, buried, my essence shriveled within a prison of flesh and bone, driven only by hunger¡­ a hunger my children could never take from me, though they left me little else. They had not found the heart chamber, nor sensed the echo of my endless appetite coiled within. It beat on, relentless, its pulse a constant reminder of all I had lost. Alone in the dark, I felt the weight of endless time with no escape. An eternity stretched before me, a prison where even my voice was silenced, and all that remained was a hunger that could never be sated. I tried to sleep, yet knew it would be no peace, only a hollow slumber, cursed to dream of a feast that would never come.

    <hr>

    Suddenly, awareness hit me like a lightning strike. An electric jolt that dragged me, disoriented and raw, back to my own mind. The weight of the monster inside me was there, dormant but restless at what we had both seen. I felt the world shift around me, though I had no control over it like I was a passenger in my own head¡­ or body. I was somewhere else now¡­ complete void¡­ complete blackness. Dark, suffocating silence swallowed the space around me, but in that silence, a faint, red light pulsed just ahead. A rhythmic and eerie thudding boomed weakly¡­ desiccated¡­ barely alive.

    Looming tendrils of shadow twisted and coiled through the darkness like vast, serpentine limbs reaching endlessly into the void. They wove and stretched with an otherworldly grace, each one inky black and thick as smoke, yet somehow solid in their ghostly, writhing forms. They cradled the faintly pulsing heart, lifting it high as though upon some sinister, dark throne¡­ a twisted shrine born of shadows themselves. The tendrils looped around it in elegant arcs, clasping the heart with reverence and menace, forming an almost regal display that radiated a corrupted majesty. It was as though these shadows served a grim purpose, honoring the heart as the ancient relic it had become, suspended in the midnight abyss like a cursed crown waiting for its heir.

    The glow was sickly, dull, and struggling. Each beat labored¡­ and strained. This heart was not the mighty, ravenous core of destruction I had come to expect after seeing Myoordrakiens beating heart in the fields. This one looked hollowed-out, shrunken¡­ like a withered, dying thing. And yet, it pulsed. Its glow, frail but steady, filled the dark with a twisted, bruised light.

    Then a voice, a deep, resonant timbre vibrated through the shadows, rumbling straight to the marrow of my bones.

    "Brother," it echoed, each syllable a weight pressing down on me. "Finally, you have come for me."

    I swallowed hard, every instinct screaming to pull back. The presence of this being¡­ this Primeval was dominating¡­ terrifying to me¡­ even though I was tied to another. My human side quivered in the presence of this Primeval¡­ even in its weakened form. I could feel its hunger¡­ the never-ending, ever-hungry light that pulsed from the heart. If it could¡­ it would consume me here and now. But¡­ I forced the question out, my voice was almost hollow against the vast darkness. ¡°Who...who are you?¡±

    The monster within me stirred, another flicker of recognition slipping from its cage. Myoordrakiens presence surged, filling me like an ancient tidal force awakening to an old memory. It reminded me of the time it took over, and put me in the cage, although I was still at the wheel. He just stood up, and gathered his attention in this moment.

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen my memories,¡± the voice continued, filling the air like a tangible force. ¡°I showed you what has happened¡­ why I rebelled. I didn¡¯t want it, but I still did it. I ran from you, hid from you... That was my mistake.¡± It sounded defeated, a being reduced to something less than itself, less than Primeval. ¡°Look at what I¡¯ve become, Brother.¡±

    Then another voice thundered into the void, and this one I knew. Cold and resounding, the voice of Myoordrakien, the one inside me¡­ the Primeval of annihilation. His words slowly spoke through me with biting finality. Vibrations rocked my body and mind as his voice echoed around me, deep and shuddering. ¡°Sister!¡±

    Her pulsing heart seemed to flicker with renewed strength at his voice, a tremble of defiance or perhaps longing. ¡°I am ready to go,¡± her voice was softer now, though her heart continued its weak rhythm, casting pale, strained light. ¡°But you cannot take me yet.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Myoordrakien demanded, his tone almost suspicious, vibrating within the hollow cavern of my mind. I could tell it suspected more lies, more schemes.

    Her heartbeat slowed, its light dimming like a fire on the brink of extinguishing. ¡°My children¡­ those who took pieces of me, they still retain them. If you take my heart, they¡¯ll remain. If I die now, they¡¯ll become Primevals of their own making.¡± She paused, her words dragging painfully through the stillness. ¡°You must take them first, retrieve the stolen relics of my mind. Only then¡­ will I truly die. And I will take all of my power with me. As it should have been¡­ long ago.¡±

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    For a moment, silence stretched around me like an endless chasm. Finally, I broke it. ¡°How do we know you''re ready?¡± I asked, my voice a jagged edge in the quiet. ¡°How do we know you won¡¯t just turn on us once we get your powers back?¡± The question felt strange to ask, challenging an entity as ancient and beaten as she was, but Myoordrakien¡¯s presence in my mind pulsed with approval.

    ¡°I have been a prisoner for too long,¡± she answered, her tone almost broken. ¡°Death hasn¡¯t been an option for me in eons. I would rather meet my end than continue as a prisoner to my own blood. And¡­¡± Her voice grew colder, tinged with something almost vengeful. ¡°I want revenge. My children knew what they did to me, and I want them to pay. The more you kill, the more it will please me.¡±

    Her heartbeat picked up, brighter, her hatred rekindling the dying light. ¡°When you reclaim my power and end my life, the most ancient of my bloodline will fall with me¡­ twisted lines that have leeched from my power for far too long. You won¡¯t just kill me, but you¡¯ll unravel whole legacies. The face of the world will change.¡±

    I felt a sharp, rising excitement. The chance to end monsters, not only with my own hands but to wipe out entire threats that loomed just beyond my reach. The idea that I could weaken, maybe even destroy, the powerful ones lurking in the shadows¡­ made my pulse quicken. Myoordrakien¡¯s presence within me pulsed with dark satisfaction.

    ¡°Hunt them,¡± she snarled, her voice cutting through the darkness like a blade drawn across bone. ¡°Find them, rip them to pieces, and reclaim every scrap they took. When it¡¯s done¡­ when every last one of them is a pile of meat¡­ I¡¯ll take you to the true heart chamber¡­the place where this all ends.¡±

    Suddenly, light erupted around my hands, blinding and searing. My right hand flared with scorching heat, the flesh splitting under a hungry burn as a twisted, jagged symbol clawed its way into my skin. It was seething with the same sickly red as the quivering heart. The pain was raw, starving, clawing, and I nearly lost myself to the urge to scream, but within the cage, Myoordrakien¡¯s presence swelled¡­ restrained, yet almost soothing. He allowed it. This was¡­a gift.

    ¡°This mark will grant you passage,¡± she hissed, her tone heavy with grim finality. ¡°It is your key to come and go as the hunt demands. But be warned¡­ my children will seek to entrap you in these hollowed corridors, bound to this hell, terrified of severing their last connection to the power they stole. Kill them all. Flee to the surface if you must, then return. Kill again¡­again¡­until there is nothing left of them but viscera.¡±

    Her words sank in, brutal and hungry, filling the void with a savage promise. The mark still burned, but the pain only fueled the sense of purpose welling inside me¡ªa grim determination to hunt, slaughter, and strip this place bare until nothing of her wayward spawn remained.

    Before I could speak to ask more or even voice a thought, a blinding white light surged through me, wiping away the darkness and her weakened, pulsing heart, leaving me in the silent, buzzing glow of emptiness.

    <hr>

    The stone spat me out like a curse, and I hit the ground with a jarring thud, my mind still spinning.

    ¡°Sam, what the hell?¡± Alex¡¯s voice shot through the haze, sharp and incredulous. She looked genuinely rattled, concern flickering behind her eyes. ¡°How did you get out? You¡¯ve been gone for hours! I thought this place ate you alive.¡± Her voice carried an edge of something raw, a concern that caught me off guard. Was she really that torn up about the idea of losing me?

    Before I could catch my breath, she ran over, gripping my shoulders and hauling me upright before I could even think to move. Her face was so close that I could feel the warmth of her breath ghosting against my cheek in the tunnel¡¯s crimson light, and for a moment, neither of us moved. It was like time had paused¡­ Alex was staring at me with a look that held equal parts frustration and relief, the intensity of it startling.

    ¡°It¡­ it let me out,¡± I managed, the words tumbling out before I had a chance to make sense of them. Everything was a disorienting blur¡­ the sights, the memories that weren¡¯t mine, the feeling of being part of something else. I slowly pulled away from Alex¡¯s grip, still trying to piece together what had just happened.

    Alex seemed to snap out of it, blinking as she took a step back. She quickly looked away, trying to shake off the awkwardness, though I could still feel the tension hanging between us. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®It let you out¡¯?¡± she asked, her voice wavering with confusion and disbelief.

    ¡°This place¡­¡± I swallowed, my throat dry as if the memory itself had scraped it raw. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s alive. I saw¡­ I saw its memories, like I was inside it¡­ like I was part of it. It was¡­ I don¡¯t know how to explain.¡± The words seemed as twisted and hollow as the feeling in my chest. ¡°It felt so real¡­ like I was¡­ like I was it.¡±

    ¡°Sam, you¡¯re not making any sense.¡± Alex¡¯s brow furrowed, but the concern stayed in her voice. ¡°This wall ate you. I saw it. The wall opened and took you whole. You disappeared into this¡­ this glowing mess¡­ and I thought you were gone. Gone, like for good. It¡¯s been hours, Sam.¡± Her hand swept around the tunnel, motioning to bodies sprawled across the stone. ¡°Look around.¡±

    Only then did I see it¡­ her hands, slick with fresh blood. The metallic sheen almost black in the dim light. My eyes followed her gesture, landing on a grisly scene: five, maybe six bodies scattered around us, the remnants of things that had come for her while she waited on me¡­ hoping I would return. She never left this spot.

    ¡°Hours?¡± My voice felt foreign, hollow. ¡°You¡¯re saying I was gone for hours?¡± My mind reeled. It had felt like mere moments¡­ a blink, just long enough for that vision to flash through me. To witness the Primeval of Hunger. But if hours had passed¡­ then Alex had stayed, waiting, fighting through whatever came after her without abandoning me.

    ¡°Why¡­ why did you stay?¡± I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. ¡°You could¡¯ve just left, gone deeper, maybe found a way out. Why stay here?¡±

    She pressed her lips together, holding back a storm of frustration. I could see the strain etched into her face¡­ the exhaustion, the annoyance, and something else, something defiant. ¡°We¡¯re here for a reason, Sam. I didn¡¯t forget that,¡± she said, her voice steady despite the fire in her eyes. ¡°And besides, I could still feel you in there, somehow. Like¡­ like your life wasn¡¯t snuffed out yet. I even tried digging through the damn rock to reach you.¡± She pointed behind her, at the bodies. ¡°These bastards kept showing up, slowing me down, but I wasn¡¯t leaving without knowing you were really gone.¡±

    I could sense the vampires that lay severed and torn on the ground, and something else with wings of skin. I eyed it curiously as I leaned around her¡­ trying to get a better look.

    Her words settled over me, heavier than any rock wall, her fierce loyalty cutting through my daze. I could still feel the brand of that otherworldly memory pressing into my hand, binding me to a fate I barely understood. I needed to explain to her.

    "Thanks," I said, and meant it.

    A few minutes passed, silence stretching out as Alex wrestled down whatever mix of anger and relief was sparking in her eyes. Finally, she let out a sigh and muttered, ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± No sarcasm, no edge¡­ just the strained sincerity of someone who¡¯d had enough but was still there anyway.

    The air was thick with the rancid stench of the bodies scattered nearby, decomposing faster than anything natural. I could barely stomach it, so I pointed down the tunnel to a cluster of rocks about thirty yards deeper in, far enough from the nauseating remains. Alex shot me a look, lips pressed tight, but followed as I moved, settling down beside me once we reached the rocks.

    For a while, neither of us spoke. I focused on steadying my breathing, still trying to wrap my mind around everything I''d just seen. It was a lot¡­ and it had actually shaken me slightly. Alex stayed silent, her gaze fixed on me, both curious and wary. I knew she was on edge, constantly scanning the darkness around us for any new threats, her hands twitching every so often, ready for whatever might come.

    ¡°This place¡­¡± I finally managed, my voice low and uneven as I looked around at the walls hemming us in. ¡°It¡¯s not just¡­ rock. It¡¯s alive. It¡¯s something ancient, something¡­ Primeval.¡± The words felt strange in my mouth, like they didn¡¯t quite fit. ¡°This¡­ this thing, it¡¯s the Primeval of Hunger. It was here when the world was young, before humanity even took shape.¡±

    She blinked at me, brow furrowing. ¡°Primeval? What the hell does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t think that would land¡± I nodded, not sure how to explain the enormity of it. ¡°There are others, too. Three that I¡¯ve seen¡­ and another one, one I just learned about. This one,¡± I said, gesturing around at the walls enclosing us, ¡°it¡¯s¡­ something more. It¡¯s like¡­ a memory of what it once was. It showed me things, things that felt real. Like I was inside it, like I was it.¡± I could see her staring at me, eyes narrowed as if trying to decipher if I was even making sense. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ something, something it was running from. It was scared, hiding. Whatever it was, it chased it down, and it burrowed deep into the earth to escape. That¡¯s how it got here¡­ hid itself away, dormant.¡±

    Alex sat up straighter, absorbing my words in tense silence. I could tell by the look on her face that it was a lot to throw at her, but I had to keep going. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ the creator,¡± I continued, my voice quieter now. ¡°The source of certain supernatural beings. Vampires, werewolves¡­ maybe even things I don¡¯t know about,¡± I admitted. ¡°They all¡­ came from it somehow. The elders were drawn here¡­ like they were its offspring in some way.¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait, hold up.¡± She interrupted, throwing a hand up, her expression half-pissed, half-disbelieving. ¡°You¡¯re just spitting this out like it¡¯s the weather forecast, Sam. How do you even know any of this is real? You sure you didn¡¯t just knock your head in there? This is insane, and you¡¯re talking like it¡¯s some¡­ factual history lesson.¡± She let out a rough exhale, clearly overloaded and frustrated by the lack of any solid proof.

    I rubbed a hand over my face, shaking my head. ¡°Look, I know it sounds crazy. But the details aren¡¯t the point, okay? We already know about the elders. There are nine of them. If we take them all out, we can pull the power they stole from this thing back into it, siphon it back where it belongs. That¡¯s what we need to do first. After that, we can finally take this thing down. Its heart¡­ it¡¯s buried somewhere deep, untouched, and protected inside with some kind of exoskeleton. We reach that, and we end this for good.¡±

    Alex scoffed, letting out a harsh laugh. ¡°An ¡®exoskeleton on the inside?¡¯ Damn, you really didn¡¯t go to college, did you?¡± She shook her head, exasperation sharpening her voice. ¡°You mean endoskeleton, genius. Exoskeletons are on the outside. I swear, read a book or something.¡± Her tone wasn¡¯t sarcastic¡­ it was irritated, like the last straw after hours of hell. I could feel her resentment simmering, probably from having to fight her way through those things while I was gone.

    I bit my lip, swallowing a retort. She wasn¡¯t wrong¡­ she had a right to be pissed. She¡¯d been waiting, fighting alone, probably half-believing she¡¯d find my corpse wedged in the rock somewhere. ¡°Anyway,¡± I muttered, cutting through the silence. ¡°Point is, we take down the elders first. Then we end this.¡±

    She glared at me, skepticism still plain on her face. ¡°And what happens to the city above when you ¡®end this¡¯? You¡¯re talking about killing something that¡¯s buried right under an entire town. You think it¡¯ll all just stay intact if we do that? I¡¯m not risking bringing down a whole city just because you¡¯ve got some half-baked plan from a fever dream.¡±

    Her words landed with a grim finality, and for the first time, I understood the weight of what we were planning.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± I said, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me from the meeting of Primevals. ¡°It¡¯s been dormant for a long time. I mean, a very long time. It¡¯s petrified, its body fused into the rock around it, trapped in a prison of its own making. It told me what to do¡­ like I was a conduit for its ancient knowledge. It¡¯s been running from something, hiding from its fate for ages now. There¡¯s so much more to this than you realize. It¡¯s hard to put into words for someone else¡­ you don¡¯t really know¡­¡±

    She studied me closely, her expression a mix of skepticism and bewilderment. ¡°And how do you know all this? Why the hell are you so tied up with all this weird shit? I¡¯ve been around since the mid-1940s, and I¡¯ve never heard anything like this.¡±

    A sigh escaped me, the weight of her words sinking in. I¡¯d opened a can of worms, and she was trying to make sense of the chaos spilling out. ¡°Because of the monster inside me,¡± I admitted, my throat tightening. ¡°The thing you¡¯ve probably been wondering about since we met. It¡¯s one of them¡­ a Primeval. It¡¯s bound to me.¡± I watched as her eyes flicked over my face, searching for some sign that I was joking, that this was all a prank. But the seriousness in my voice must have struck a chord, and I could see her understanding begin to shift, if only slightly.

    ¡°That¡¯s the other Primeval you saw¡­ one of the others?¡± Alex¡¯s brow knitted as she tried to connect the dots.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I confirmed, the reality of my situation weighing heavily. ¡°There¡¯s the Unseen, the Primeval of Hunger, and another one I can¡¯t quite place. I think it¡¯s the Primeval of Flesh¡­ and Bone.¡± I hesitated, trying to recall the details. ¡°Mine¡­ mine is of Annihilation. It craves death¡­ not blood like you, or flesh like the others. It wants the moment a life is snuffed out. To end things¡­ for good. That¡¯s what it longs for.¡±

    ¡°You said this thing was running?¡± she pressed, motioning towards the walls that closed in on us, their dark surfaces absorbing the faint light. ¡°Was it running from yours?¡±

    I shook my head, feeling the shadows close in tighter. ¡°No. In the memory, it was thinking about my Primeval, how it was already dead. It had vanished from their world, and they all knew it. But then something else came, something that hunted them down. That¡¯s why they all ran, hiding in places like this, burying themselves beneath the earth, creating new dimensions to slip into, like the Unseen did.¡±

    ¡°What could scare something that can create an entirely new existence?¡± Alex¡¯s mind was working overtime, her brow furrowed as she chewed on the implications.

    I paused, uncertainty creeping in. Should I reveal more? I glanced around the dim tunnel, the dark edges hinting at unfathomable horrors beyond our reach. What if we didn¡¯t make it out of here alive? I couldn¡¯t keep secrets from her; she had trusted me enough to follow me into this nightmare without question. I still had questions about that.

    ¡°It was Death,¡± I finally said, my voice dropping to a whisper. ¡°Death came for them all. He¡¯s a force¡­ an entity all on his own. When the Primevals ran, trying to prolong their lives beyond what they were meant for¡­ when anything tries to live beyond its means, doing twisted, evil things to cling to power or stay in this world¡­ Death will come for them.¡± I met her gaze, the intensity of her green eyes drawing me in. They widened slightly, revealing a vulnerability I rarely saw in Alex. It was as if my words were slicing through her tough exterior.

    ¡°That¡¯s how the first Primeval, Annihilation, was killed,¡± I continued¡­ my heart racing. ¡°Death came for him, made a deal. He became the hand of Death in the physical world after his siblings cheated Death. Since then, his power has passed between different hosts¡­ people cursed to continue the work the first Primeval started. New Hands of Death to hunt down those who try to escape him. That¡¯s what I am.¡± I bared it all to her.

    Silence settled between us, heavy and palpable. I could see the gears turning in her mind as she processed the truth I had laid bare.

    ¡°Death, like a skeleton with a big scythe?¡± Alex tried to inject some levity, attempting to lighten the oppressive tension in the air.

    I let out a shaky breath, unable to fully relax into a laugh. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen him as a skeleton, actually. The form I¡¯ve seen is always cloaked, usually at a distance where I can¡¯t get a good look. But he¡¯s appeared to me in other ways, too. For a while, he showed up as my predecessor, John¡­ the one who held this curse before me. Lately, he¡¯s been appearing as me, like a carbon copy staring back at me in a mirror.¡± I paused, gathering my thoughts. ¡°But he is real, in ways you might not think. But¡­ if he shows up¡­ you don¡¯t want to be around¡­¡±

    ¡°So, you were a normal guy,¡± she pieced together slowly, her voice laced with disbelief. ¡°Then you got cursed somehow, and this monster now lives inside you? And it¡¯s a Primeval, one of those things?¡± She gestured again towards the walls, their darkened surfaces shimmering with a sinister energy.

    Yes. I stated plainly.

    Out of nowhere, she started laughing uncontrollably, the sound echoing off the damp walls of the tunnel. A musical symphony of uncontrollable laughter tore through the silence of the tunnel. Her vibrant red hair spilled over her shoulder as she leaned forward, her body shaking with amusement. The laughter was infectious, a burst of joy that seemed wildly out of place in our grim surroundings. It felt surreal to watch her find such humor in the heavy truth I had just revealed. But I couldn¡¯t join in; I sat there, tense, my eyes darting into the inky darkness around us, silently pleading that no lurking threat was drawn to her laughter. I didn¡¯t want to lose this moment of truth. The thought of something sinister honing in on our location, because she couldn¡¯t maintain her fucking composure, gnawed at me.

    Minutes stretched on as she heaved with laughter, completely lost in the moment. I stole glances at the shadows, acutely aware of the stillness that surrounded us. The sound of her amusement felt like a beacon, an unwelcome signal in this haunted place. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her laughter began to taper off, replaced by a quieting realization. I could sense the shift in her energy; she had hit the peak of her amusement and was now coming down from that high, her expression slowly morphing into one of seriousness.

    As her laughter faded into silence, I noticed her eyes narrowing, locking onto mine with an intensity that made the air thick between us. It was clear that she was processing everything I had laid bare. The ridiculousness of my words seemed to settle in, but so did the gravity of the truth behind them. I watched as her mind raced to piece together the puzzle of who I was, all the bits of information she had gathered in our short time together now swirling in her thoughts.

    Her gaze didn¡¯t waver; she studied me intently, searching for any sign that I might be joking. The remnants of laughter lingered in her smile, but the seriousness of the situation dulled that light, making her features appear more resolute. I could feel her wrestling with disbelief, yet somewhere beneath that turmoil, I sensed an unspoken understanding. She was beginning to accept the impossible: that I was a vessel for something ancient and terrifying, something that craved Death itself.

    I realized then that despite the wild absurdity of it all, she had a depth to her¡­ a vulnerability hidden beneath layers of bravado and sarcasm. It made my heart pound in a way I hadn¡¯t expected, like she was unraveling parts of me I had kept tightly sealed. There was an attraction, a connection in that moment, fragile yet undeniable, and it hovered just beneath the surface of our conversation.

    ¡°You really believe this, don¡¯t you?¡± she finally said, her voice low and steady, cutting through the silence. It was a statement more than a question, a reflection of the trust that was slowly building between us, even amidst the chaos. I nodded, my expression unwavering, and she seemed to draw strength from my resolve. The tension between us shifted, charged with an energy that felt both exhilarating and dangerous, a flickering flame in the midst of the dark unknown surrounding us.

    As we settled into an uneasy silence, the stillness was shattered by the sound of footsteps¡­ slow, deliberate, and distinctly singular. The cadence of those approaching steps echoed through the damp, claustrophobic space, each footfall echoing like a heartbeat, and though they did not carry the promise of destruction, they felt ominous. It was as if whoever it was had taken to creeping through the shadows, oblivious to the fact that I could hear them perfectly.

    I glanced at Alex, who had a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°All you, buddy. Time to start lifting your weight, oh great Hand of Death,¡± she mocked, her voice laced with playful challenge.

    Taking a deep breath, I stood up from my perch and began to pace toward the unseen intruder, my senses heightened. As I closed the distance, I stopped about fifteen yards away from Alex, the shadows thickening around me. I could feel the presence lurking just out of sight, and instinctively, I knew that whatever¡­ whoever was moving in the darkness was not human. The realization sent a confident surge into my choices. If they were down here, it meant they were tied to the horrors that enveloped this place.

    In that split second before I could fully comprehend my next move, a low snarl erupted from the shadows, followed by the sudden surge of a figure lunging at me. A woman, I recognized immediately, her body moving with predatory grace. She wore clothes that seemed more suited for a night out than an encounter in the bowels of this forsaken place, and as she launched herself at me, her jagged teeth bared in a grotesque snarl. The lower fangs jutted out longer than the upper ones, giving her a bulldog-like appearance that left no doubt in my mind; this was not a vampire. The telltale aroma of bloodlust and potency that usually accompanied their kind was absent, and yet there was something decidedly menacing about her.

    My instincts kicked in before I could think, and with a swift, decisive motion, I caught her by the throat as she soared towards me. I held her suspended for just a moment, studying her. There was a wildness in her eyes, a blend of fury and desperation. But I couldn¡¯t linger; the inevitability of what I had to do loomed over me.

    In one fluid motion, I twisted her head with a brutal snap, the sound echoing through the tunnel like a gunshot. The pulse of life fled her body in an instant, leaving only the weight of the act behind me. The monster swelled in its cage, sated with the death at my hands. Whatever she had been, she was now a lifeless form, and as I took a breath, I sensed that no other threats lingered in the immediate vicinity.

    Kneeling beside her, I took stock of her clothes. They were surprisingly well-fitted, and a surge of practicality coursed through me. In a brisk yet respectful manner, I began to peel the garments from her body, avoiding lingering near her corpse any longer than necessary. Yes, she was a monster, but that didn¡¯t erase the odd pang of discomfort as I stole her clothes and exposed her body. I knew Alex would have a field day with this, mocking my choices, and I couldn¡¯t let that thought linger.

    With a fresh set of clothes in hand, a tight shirt and a mid-thigh skirt, I made my way back to Alex. She was still perched on the rock where I had left her, a curious mix of expectation and amusement in her expression as I approached.

    ¡°Here you go, one fresh set of clothes,¡± I announced, exaggerating a bow as I presented the folded garments like a butler. ¡°Compliments of the last unfortunate soul we encountered.¡±

    She eyed the pile with a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow as she unfolded the shirt and pants, holding them up to her body as if trying them on in a makeshift dressing room. ¡°I guess they¡¯ll have to do,¡± she muttered, a resigned acceptance in her tone, though playfully amused with my lightening the mood.

    Without hesitation, Alex began to strip off her blood-stained clothes, the fabric ripping away in swift motions. I found myself momentarily stunned, my eyes widening as she revealed herself, her confidence striking me dumb. For a fleeting moment, I was caught off guard, unsure if I should turn away or simply stand there. My instincts kicked in, and I glanced down quickly, awkwardly shifting to give her some semblance of privacy.

    A low chuckle escaped her lips, tinged with dark amusement as she caught my reaction. I could hear her muttering under her breath, swearing as she realized her undergarments were also tainted with blood. It was a mix of mortification and humor, and I couldn¡¯t resist the urge to send out a pulse through my mind, envisioning her in my head. The energy rebounded back, intertwining with my senses, giving me a rough idea of her presence. She had stripped down completely, examining her underwear for salvageable bits, scratching at the stained fabric with her nails.

    ¡°Did you happen to take the bra off her too, you fucking creep?¡± she shot at me, her tone sharp.

    ¡°Oh no,¡± I replied, feigning innocence. ¡°Why would I have done that?¡± I countered, trying to sound genuinely perplexed. ¡°Oh wait... yeah no. Because I''m not some kind of necrophiliac!¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not just my shirt and pants that got ruined; I need a full replacement!¡± she demanded, her tone dripping with mockery¡­ I think trying to get me to turn around.

    I chuckled darkly at the absurdity of the situation. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t fit you anyway,¡± I shot back, unable to resist the bait.

    Her incredulous glare was palpable. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    Laughter burst from my chest, reverberating through the darkness. ¡°What I mean is,¡± I said, struggling to maintain some semblance of class, ¡°she wasn¡¯t as physically¡­ gifted as you. She was¡­ smaller.¡± The words spilled out, my mind racing with the unintentional implications of my statement. I felt like a piece of garbage for even engaging in this conversation, and taking the dead monster¡¯s underwear was a line I simply could not cross.

    ¡°Well,¡± Alex said, her tone shifting to one of reluctant acceptance, ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true.¡± Not because she didn¡¯t like the compliment, I could sense that, but because she couldn¡¯t argue against the fact that I had unwittingly complimented her. The realization hung in the air, and I could almost hear the gears turning in her mind, conjuring up all the new ways she could mock me for my blatant perviness.

    And without missing a beat, the familiar barrage of teasing began, the jabs and jibes a twisted symphony of banter echoing through the dimly lit tunnel. She kept it up as she dressed herself, covering her exposed skin once again¡­ but barely.

 Chapter 75 - The Elder

    We continued deeper down the subway-sized tunnel, each step pulling us further into the dark maze of the Primeval¡¯s remains. Alex adjusted her new clothes, and as she caught my gaze, a sly look crossed her face. It was more than the usual smirk; her eyes held a satisfaction I couldn¡¯t place. She seemed to know the hold she had over me, as if she were proving some unspoken point; using her body and the usual methods she employed to frazzle me.

    Then she spoke, cutting into me with that unflinching voice of hers. ¡°You''re still bent out of shape about Autumn, aren''t you?¡± There wasn¡¯t an ounce of softness or apology in her words. She just plunged in, picking apart my thoughts with her usual brutal precision.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, trying to shake off the weight her words were beginning to settle on my chest.

    She didn¡¯t wait for me to catch up. ¡°I can tell you''re still thinking about her¡­ about possibly getting her back.¡± Her voice held a mix of exasperation and warning. ¡°Take Charles as an example, and don¡¯t do what he did. That¡¯s why I keep telling you¡­ you¡¯re a monster. We¡¯re both monsters. Charles is a monster. Martin is a monster. We don¡¯t belong with humans. No matter how much you care for them, you¡¯ll always be a passive threat.¡±

    ¡°Charles¡­¡± I repeated, thrown by her comparison. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    Her eyes narrowed, a bitter look hardening her face. ¡°Look at him. Tied to a family, just like Martin. And look how tangled he¡¯s become with the evil that lives down here, even if it¡¯s just to protect the people he loves. He lured that corruption right into their lives. His presence alone brought that shapeshifter to that old woman. That¡¯s why she was killed. That¡¯s the bottom line, Sam. That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to get through your thick, fucking head.¡±

    I wanted to fire back, tell her she was wrong, but I held my tongue. Her words hit harder than I¡¯d expected, striking a nerve I wasn¡¯t prepared for. Beneath all the bluntness, there was a weight to what she was saying, a truth I couldn''t just dismiss.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t wanted friends¡­ a family of my own,¡± she continued, her voice dipping just a little. ¡°This life is lonely, and I¡¯ve wanted it. But deep down, I know it¡¯s wrong. Wrong to pull anyone else into this nightmare.¡±

    She leaned closer, her voice laden with a rare urgency. ¡°Look at Charles and the hell he''s dragged into his family¡¯s lives. Look at Martin and the endless danger hanging over the Chasse family because of him¡­ his tips, clues to lead them on more hunts. And then look at yourself. How close you got with Autumn, knowing exactly what kind of evil follows you around, knowing your enemies would be a threat no one could ever understand¡­ Do you think it¡¯s right to bring that down on her? On all of them?¡±

    Her words sunk deep, and I felt an ache of recognition. I wanted to argue, to deny it, to cling to the idea that things could be different. But a part of me, that part I tried so hard to ignore, knew that she was right.

    "Frank and James seem to make it work," I muttered, more of a stray thought than anything. It wasn¡¯t even meant to be a point, just a half-hearted deflection.

    ¡°For now, maybe,¡± Alex interrupted my thoughts, her tone sharp. ¡°But what happens the day Jane loses control? The day Frank bites the bitter end of that deal? No matter how sorry she¡¯ll be, she¡¯ll never take it back. Or maybe it won¡¯t even be her¡­ maybe someone else in the pack will decide to challenge her, attack her, and the first person they¡¯ll target? A human. Doesn¡¯t matter if Frank¡¯s a hunter or not.¡± She didn¡¯t stop, her words hitting harder, like she was trying to drive each one deep enough to stay. Then she shifted examples. ¡°Why do you think Patrick went after Autumn¡­ if he really did use that brush on her somehow? Was it just about the two of them, or did you factor in? If something happened to her¡­ if she¡¯s changed in some way because of him, do you really believe your presence in her life had no part in that?¡±

    Her words stung, sharp and merciless, making every excuse I had feel flimsy, and I looked down, feeling that twisted truth settle in. I''d be lying if I said she was wrong. Every part of me knew she was right, but that didn''t make it any easier to accept. I was supposed to be dead, after all. Being with Autumn was a reality that never should have happened, and I don¡¯t mean that metaphorically¡­ I mean literally. If I hadn¡¯t been torn from my life, I¡¯d still be back in Dallas with Vicky and my family. I¡¯d have a daughter, be a father, living life as a family should. The only reason I even knew the Chasse family was because I¡¯d been shoved into this monstrous life.

    I looked at Alex, my voice lowering with anger. ¡°And what about my family, huh? You know my brother was in town, right? Now he knows¡­ that I¡¯m alive, and I have to go back and face him. What am I supposed to do about that?¡± I challenged her, feeling the heat of frustration in my words. It was easy for her to say all this, to spit truths, but living with them was something else entirely.

    She paused, choosing her words carefully this time. ¡°You need to do the right thing. I¡¯m not saying it¡¯s going to be easy, Sam. But the more you show yourself to them, the more of this world you¡¯ll wash over them. If something comes for one of them¡­ all of them¡­ could you live with yourself¡­ knowing it¡¯s your fault?¡±

    I scoffed, ready to argue, but she went on, her tone shifting to something gentler, almost regretful. ¡°I know you had a wife, Sam. Martin told me. He said it was something the Chasses mentioned a while back. You had a wife¡­ and a child. A daughter?¡±

    Her words brought the image of Caydee flooding back, her small face as she sat in her crib the night I first learned she existed. My chest tightened, a dull ache of guilt and longing settling over me. ¡°Her name is Caydee,¡± I said, my voice thick. ¡°What about her? Am I just supposed to give up on her?¡±

    Alex¡¯s face softened, but her eyes held a steely truth. ¡°It¡¯s not about giving up, Sam. It¡¯s about keeping her safe. Is this really a life you¡¯d want for her? Because, whether you mean to or not, it¡¯s the life she¡¯ll end up living the closer you get.¡±

    Alex actually shook her head, her voice laced with an unusual certainty. "No," she said, firm. "But that doesn¡¯t mean you should just show up, dump your deepest, darkest secrets on them, and drag them into the world we live in."

    Frustration flared in me, raw and stubborn. "What the hell are you trying to say?" I demanded. "If you¡¯ve got a point, just spit it out. Spell it out for me like you usually do."

    She gave me a hard look, her jaw tight, then let out a slow breath as if bracing herself. ¡°Let me tell you a story.¡±

    We kept moving through the tunnel, our footsteps echoing in the hollow darkness. Her eyes grew distant as she relived whatever memory she was digging up, each word chosen with care as if she wanted them to sink into me, to linger and simmer. She was trying to show me something, something she couldn¡¯t outright say.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you some things, how it happened, how I was turned,¡± she began, her voice quiet but firm. ¡°But I never told you everything. I was born in 1944. Three brothers, a mom, and a dad. We lived in one of those picture-perfect suburban homes, you know? The family who loved each other, who¡­ well, who wanted a good life for me. A quiet life, pastel houses, and white picket fences were my future. And everyone was for it¡­ all my brothers¡­ my parents. Except me. I was the rebellious one. Youngest of the lot, the only girl, always fighting with my brothers, always trying to make my own rules. I thought it made me tough, made me¡­ my own person.¡±

    I listened, caught off guard by the glimpse she was giving me. Her tone held a strange mix of longing and bitterness, and I could feel her words edging into something vulnerable, something she hadn¡¯t shown before.

    ¡°I met Jerry, and he was everything my family didn¡¯t want for me. Bikes, rough friends¡­ they didn¡¯t approve, didn¡¯t like the crowd I was running with. But Jerry and I were in love, and we were going to get married, no matter how much my family tried to pull me back. We fought a lot. They told me the life I¡¯d chosen was going to get me killed. Mom even told me to never come back unless I¡¯d drop everything and live how they wanted.¡± Her voice cracked, just barely, but she covered it with a hard edge. ¡°So¡­ I left.¡±

    The bitterness in her voice surprised me. It was something I couldn¡¯t fully understand. My family had always supported me and my siblings, no matter the choices I¡¯d made. They gave me room to make mistakes¡­ to learn. I looked at her, suddenly feeling the weight of her story, the ache in her words that hinted at so much loneliness. I never knew anything like she did¡­ not in this way.

    ¡°When it happened," she continued, quieter, "when the vampires took everything from me, the first thing I wanted¡­ more than revenge¡­ was just to go home. To see them, to try and make things right. I cleaned myself up the best I could and tried to look like the daughter they remembered. But when I showed up at their door, my mother¡­¡± She paused, her voice shaking as she forced herself to continue. ¡°She was heartbroken. She looked at me like I was some stranger like all the life had been drained out of her.¡±

    I hesitated. "Did you tell her?"

    Alex shook her head, her expression pained. ¡°No. She wouldn¡¯t even let me explain. She just cried, the whole time. She didn¡¯t want to see me, didn¡¯t want to hear a word. She had already given me a chance to change my ways. She said she had to stick to her word. Just¡­ shut the door and left me standing there.¡±

    Her words hung heavy between us, filling the silence as we walked. I could feel her pain like a sharp blade, pressing against a hidden wound. She wasn¡¯t just telling me this for no reason; she was trying to illustrate everything as she led to something.

    She turned to me, her gaze unwavering. ¡°You think you can just step back into their lives, Sam, like you¡¯re the same person? You¡¯re not. This world changes you, taints you, and every step closer you get¡­ you¡¯re bringing them right to the edge with you.¡±

    The realization sat heavy in my chest, anger and sorrow churning. She was right, and even if I hated it, some part of me understood.

    I watched her, feeling the crack in my heart grow as she spoke. There was something raw and almost painful in the way Alex looked at me, a vulnerability that I never saw before, and I almost wished I hadn¡¯t. I got a glimpse of just how much suffering she had gone through.

    "What did you do?¡± I asked, barely able to get the words out.

    She held my gaze for a second, then let it go, staring into the dim tunnel ahead. ¡°I left,¡± she said quietly. ¡°And the longer I stayed away, the more I understood what I¡¯d become. My mother was right¡­ living that life had killed me. And if she couldn¡¯t handle me being with Jerry, she definitely wouldn¡¯t have handled¡­ this.¡± Her voice thickened, cracking with a mixture of bitterness and resignation. ¡°When I realized what I was¡­ a monster, craving blood more than anything else¡­ it made me sick. Just knowing that I shared the same thirst as the ones who¡¯d done this to me filled me with rage. I couldn¡¯t be like them¡­ I wouldn''t¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°I couldn¡¯t hunt humans. But I found a different craving, one I¡¯d never asked for¡­ vampire blood. I was addicted. It was stronger, darker. Satisfying in a way nothing else was. I spent years hunting, killing vampires, keeping to the shadows,¡± Alex said, her voice low but threaded with a somber pride. ¡°I¡¯d watch them sometimes¡­ my family, going on with their lives; safe, happy, never having any idea of what had become of their daughter¡­ sister. I never told them, and I never let them see me again. But I stayed close. I stayed until every last one of them had passed away.¡±

    Her words fell quietly, but they carried the weight of years, and I could feel the strength it took to remain unseen. She¡¯d given up everything, every ounce of connection, but she¡¯d done it for them. ¡°I cut ties after that, let the rest go. There are grandchildren, cousins, relatives all over the country¡­ but it¡¯s best to stay away.¡±

    She looked away for a moment, as though summoning the will to carry on had become a familiar habit, one rooted in sorrow but also in something deeper. Pride flickered behind her gaze, and I realized that this was the burden she chose to bear, her silent vow to keep them safe, even if they¡¯d never know it was her protection that shadowed their lives. ¡°They never knew, and they never had to. That¡¯s what matters.¡±

    The silence fell heavy between us, her words a stark contrast to the indifference she usually showed. She¡¯d spent decades lurking in the darkness, driven by guilt and grief, keeping herself chained to people who never even knew she was there.

    Then, finally, she said, ¡°You remind me of me, Sam.¡± Her voice softened, but the weight of her words hit hard. ¡°I see it more and more now. You never asked for this life, either. And I know you left your family behind, just like I did, to protect them from the thing you¡¯ve become. But you¡¯re slipping¡­ you¡¯re reaching back for something you can¡¯t have anymore. You want to hold on to people, to connections, to whatever you think you still need. But you don¡¯t.¡± Her voice hardened. ¡°You want them, but you don¡¯t need them. Protecting them from this dark world and yourself¡­ that¡¯s what you are now. That¡¯s the hand you were dealt. That¡¯s the way you have to live until something comes to take you down.¡±

    She fell silent, a hint of defiance in her gaze, her honesty laid out like a challenge.

    I looked at her sharply, her green eyes reflecting the dim light. ¡°Why are you down here with me, Alex?¡± I asked, almost afraid of the answer. ¡°I thought you were here for a buffet or a good hunt¡­ I never really asked why you were here with me.¡±

    She didn¡¯t look away. ¡°I¡¯m cursed to this life, Sam. I didn¡¯t want it, but it¡¯s mine. And I¡¯ll be damned if I let anyone take that from me again. I came down here with you because I feel the same thing in you that¡¯s in me. That dark, angry part of you that refuses to give up. To not let these fuckers live down here in peace¡­ and keep on killing!¡± She hesitated, something hard to say caught on her tongue. ¡°And¡­ if there¡¯s something down here that could kill me? I want to meet it head-on. I¡¯m not suicidal, but I don¡¯t want to live forever, either. If something takes me out while I¡¯m fighting¡­ so be it. But I¡¯ll go down swinging.¡±

    I gave a small, rueful smile, feeling the weight of her words settle in me like they were something I¡¯d been trying not to see but always knew was there. ¡°You know,¡± I told her, ¡°we¡¯re a lot more alike than I realized.¡± I paused, the admission cutting deeper than I expected. ¡°I¡¯m not proud of it, but in the beginning¡­ I tried to kill myself a few times.¡± I motioned down the length of my body. ¡°Guess you can see how that turned out.¡±

    She didn¡¯t smile. ¡°With everything I¡¯ve told you,¡± she said quietly, ¡°you really need to think about what I said.¡± Her face hardened, the brief glimpse of her softer side slipping back into guarded resolve. The warmth faded from her voice, leaving only an iron certainty. ¡°What we are¡­ it¡¯s something no one else should ever have to become. The hardest thing anyone on this earth could ever do is live what we are.¡± She took a steadying breath, eyes locking on mine, unflinching. ¡°People whose families were stolen, lives shattered; our minds and bodies twisted into something that can¡¯t help but hurt the people we once loved. But we stay away. That¡¯s the greatest protection we can offer.¡±

    Her words hit like a punch to the gut. She was right. I¡¯d danced around these thoughts countless times in the early years of this life, trying to find some justification, some way to balance who I was against who I¡¯d been. But the moment I felt even the faintest glimpse of my old life, of connection, I clung to it. I put up weak walls, ones that never stood a chance, just so I could say I tried to keep them safe. The truth was, I¡¯d been searching for any excuse to ignore what I knew was right.

    Alex seemed to sense my turmoil, but she didn¡¯t push it any further. We kept walking, silence filling the spaces between us, her words echoing in my mind like a final verdict.

    Her words lingered in my mind like sharp, splintered glass, settling into places I¡¯d been trying to ignore. She and I both knew that what she was saying was the truth¡­ at least, her truth. We knew that there were already ties I couldn¡¯t sever, connections that kept pulling me back, even as I¡¯d tried to convince myself it was safer for everyone if I did. The human inside me clung to these bonds with a kind of desperate strength that defied reason, whispering that maybe I could hold on and keep them safe. And yet, Alex had a point. To her, there were no shades of grey, only sharp, cold lines between what we could and couldn¡¯t allow ourselves to feel, to be, to need.

    But I lived in that grey area, wedged between what she called ¡°right¡± and the part of me that longed for something real, something to hold onto in this darkness. She saw this life as a strict duty¡­ an endless stretch of nights doing what needed to be done¡­ until her time came. Her voice was cold, and resolute; a voice that had accepted the role of the lone hunter, the eternal shadow. But I saw more. I saw someone who had lost so much of herself that she couldn¡¯t remember what it felt like to reach for others, to have someone hold on and refuse to let her drift away.

    And yet, I also felt the pull of her words. She was right, wasn¡¯t she? I was barely living, pulling the people I cared about closer even as I wrestled with what that meant. It was selfish, a gamble on both sides. I should let them go, I knew that, but the thought of being entirely alone¡­ of living in the same exile that she had, filled me with a hollow dread.

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    Still, there was a spark within her that she couldn¡¯t hide, even if she tried. Not from me. Beneath that hard exterior, I glimpsed the pain she hid and the longing she would never admit to. I wanted to help her. More than that, I wanted to be her friend, to break through the walls she¡¯d put up and show her that we didn¡¯t have to bear this life in solitude.

    For the first time, I felt a strange hope, something that edged out the hollow ache her words had left behind. I wasn¡¯t sure if I could change things for her or if I could even make a difference, but I wanted to try. For once, the endless darkness we both carried didn¡¯t seem quite as isolating, and I felt something close to resolve building in me. She didn¡¯t need to face this alone. Neither of us did.

    It would be tough, but I found something in Alex I never thought I¡¯d find. She was a friend¡­ a companion. She¡¯d never admit it¡­ not at the moment, but our similarities were too numerous. We could relate to a similar shared experience that not many others could. She¡¯d probably fight it¡­ but we¡¯d become great friends.

    The tunnel walls widened, stretching outward until they surrounded us like the yawning maw of some ancient, hollow beast. The steep downward slope grew sharper beneath our feet, each step pressing us closer to the edge until we finally stood on the lip of a cliff, looking down into the abyss below. The rocky outcropping was jagged, slabs of stone jutting at irregular angles as if frozen mid-eruption, and as we looked over the edge, a faint glow emerged from below. Hundreds of feet down, the flicker of torches drew faint golden paths that snaked through the dark. Here, deep in this forsaken place, someone had made their home.

    Structures rose from the shadowed ground below, small and crude, their walls built of warped wood or some splintered material; a strange settlement set up on an underground plateau, scattered huts huddling together in clusters. I glanced over at Alex, arching an eyebrow. ¡°Locals, huh?¡± I muttered, smirking.

    She nodded curtly. ¡°Seems that way,¡± she replied, her voice edged with primed violence. I saw her eyes go red, veins flaring as her vampiric power surged to life. She scanned the depths with a focused intensity, her senses honing in on the activity below. I took a breath, activating my own pulse. A ripple of sensory probing through the unknown. Both of us, unexpectedly, felt it: the unmistakable hum of bodies. Dozens of them. Thirty, maybe forty, lingering near the huts, the outlines of each soul pressing faintly into my awareness. They were simply¡­ there. Talking in low voices, lounging on chairs inside their crude shelters. I caught a glimpse of some disappearing into crevices that opened like hidden pockets along the cavern walls, drifting even deeper into the rock.

    Alex¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°So, what¡¯s the move?¡± she asked, her voice steady and blunt. ¡°Kill them all, or try to blend in and get closer? Find an elder?¡±

    I weighed the options, considering the chaos of a sudden assault. ¡°If we make a scene here, the elders might scatter, go even deeper. Not a fan of them bolting the moment we strike. Let¡¯s go down, and see what this is all about.¡±

    Moments later, Alex and I were scaling the cliff face, clinging to rocks with grips like iron. The slope wasn¡¯t smooth; instead, the cliff seemed like part of the massive, ancient joint in the giant leg of this spider-like Primeval. The rocks shifted unpredictably under our weight, and while our strength made us less likely to fall, loose stones had a habit of tumbling free beneath our hands. We crept downward, avoiding the echo of crumbling stones.

    As I climbed, I glanced over at Alex, catching her mid-movement. She had paused, adjusting her handhold at a precarious turn where the wall twisted into a near-vertical drop as we hung from a ceiling. The cliff curved into a sheer drop where we had to hang by fingertips, and then angled downward into a sloped ceiling. Alex¡¯s eyes flashed as she caught me watching her, gripping onto a petrified, jagged shard of what looked like a bone that jutted from the stone.

    ¡°What?¡± she hissed, the annoyance clear in her voice.

    ¡°Just making sure you¡¯re good,¡± I replied, shrugging, though the tension between us felt close to a low-grade charge in the air.

    ¡°If I need your help,¡± she snapped, voice curt and cutting, ¡°I¡¯ll ask for it.¡±

    Her words stung, striking with a cold finality that left no room for argument. It wasn¡¯t the first time she¡¯d batted away my concern like it was some affront to her strength, and yet, her defiance only made me want to be there for her more. The cracks in the solitude she wore like armor¡­ I wanted to help her let them go, even if she never asked.

    What you say, Alex asked once I had finally spoken to her again.

    ¡°Damn,¡± I muttered, huffing out a frustrated breath. ¡°You really just can¡¯t manage to get along, can you? You¡¯re either all in or all out. It¡¯s like you¡¯re always in a mood, pushing every button I¡¯ve got just to see how far you can take it.¡±

    My annoyance slipped out rawer than I intended, my words carving through the murky silence between us. Alex merely shook her head, a faint snort leaving her lips as if she¡¯d heard it all before. She didn¡¯t respond, just kept climbing, her grip steady and unwavering. So, we climbed in silence, picking our way down the craggy rock face as the darkness around us deepened.

    When we reached a near-vertical drop, we eased down inch by inch, fingers, and feet finding hold against the rugged stone. As we neared the bottom, the silence grew heavier, the air colder. The path before us finally leveled out, leading directly into a small, makeshift settlement pressed against the cavern walls like an afterthought.

    I took a moment to assess it. Six buildings clustered together, crudely built yet sturdy, formed from a wood that was unlike any I¡¯d ever seen; dense, nearly black, with a strange gleam to it that didn¡¯t catch the torchlight so much as absorb it. It had the look of something ancient, unnatural even. We positioned ourselves along the outskirts, each movement precise, and careful, sending out waves of sensory pulses as we went, gathering whatever intelligence we could without revealing our presence. Thirty-six figures, all huddled in their own pockets of this dark, underground village. They moved slowly, as if bound by some unseen lethargy, their motions blending with the shadows.

    Among them, I detected a handful of vampires; their blood signatures were potent, like pinpricks of fire in the stillness. The rest, though human in appearance, felt distinctly¡­ off. They held a heaviness, an unsettling aura that crawled up my spine, hinting at something buried, something different.

    Keeping low, we slipped around the left side of the encampment, noting the vast tunnel that yawned before us, angling even further into the earth. This tunnel marked the end of this ¡®leg¡¯¡­ the structure we were navigating, and led into something much larger, something more profound and ancient. As the torches cast long, flickering shadows, I caught sight of another structure looming at the far end. Even from here, it dwarfed the huts we¡¯d passed. Its mass and dark presence were deceptive at this distance, but I could tell it was enormous, likely the size of a mansion if not more. It was constructed from the same otherworldly wood, standing as a final threshold, a gateway between the limb of this Primeval entity and the core of its body.

    I sent out a pulse down the length of the tunnel, feeling the air, the density, and gathering impressions of the structure beyond. There were two heartbeats inside that dark monolith, steady and slow. One pulsed with a distinct rhythm, something ancient, primal¡­ a heartbeat that thudded like the march of centuries. My pulse reverberated back to me, a distant, almost painful sense of recognition echoing in my mind, stirring something deep within. The monster inside me¡­ the Primeval, shifted¡­ a thread of awareness tingling through my senses as though some part of it knew precisely what we were approaching.

    ¡°Elder,¡± I murmured aloud, my gaze fixed on the expanse stretching out between us and that shadowy structure. It loomed at the end of this tunnel like a final sentence, made from that same strange wood, each line and angle blending into the darkness, as if waiting for us, knowing we would come.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± she asked, her voice a blend of skepticism and curiosity. ¡°How can you sense anything that far off? I can feel someone down there, but I can¡¯t tell anything about them.¡±

    ¡°Just trust me,¡± I replied coldly, my tone steady despite the urgency swirling within me. ¡°He¡¯s in there. We get him, then there are only eight more to go.¡±

    ¡°Is this a ¡°Death¡± thing?¡± she pressed, her brow furrowing. ¡°Is he like, telling you where to go?¡± She asked inquisitively. I could tell when given the chance, not in immediate danger, she¡¯d ask me tons of shit that was swirling in her mind.

    ¡°Death¡¯s not here with us,¡± I said sharply, the truth biting at my tongue. ¡°I have to do this by myself.¡± Without waiting for a response, I turned and moved forward. I didn¡¯t have time to explain. It was like an electric charge had filled my bones, an instinct deep within me urging me onward. The monster inside stirred, a restless force clamoring for release. It craved destruction, hungering to unleash my pent-up anger and frustration on everyone in this chamber.

    I started to shift, each step bringing my transformation closer. The air around me thickened with anticipation as I headed toward the larger structure at the end of the chamber. My fingers fumbled at the hem of my clothes, trying to strip them off before the change overtook me. I didn¡¯t want to ruin my clothing during the fight. But as my body began to lurch, the seams of my pants protested, tearing at the waist and crotch with a sound that was both liberating and frustrating. I gave up on saving my shirt; I certainly wasn¡¯t going to be left with just a shirt and no pants. I¡¯d look ridiculous.

    Then I sprinted forward, feeling the constraints within me break apart. An inferno of heat surged through my fingertips as black, bone-like talons erupted, slicing through each digit like they were made of paper. My mouth ignited with pain as every jagged tooth elongated, transforming into a monstrous form. My eyes had darkened further to an abyssal black, now growing in size alongside the rest of me.

    I moved with a singular purpose, driven by the primal intent of the monster within. I was racing toward the figure I sensed at the end of this leg chamber¡­ the Elder. I could feel him, a sliver of Primeval power residing within another entity. A thief who had to be eradicated.

    My pulse sense hummed with life, sending out waves of hunting energy that enveloped the space around me. I could sense Alex right behind me, her blood pounding with the thrill of imminent slaughter. We dashed past a throng of about thirty lesser monsters, mere obstacles in our path. I suspected that when we took down the Elder, some of them would flee¡­ some would fight, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. From the dark realm where my Primeval had spoken with this husk of Hunger, it had seemed that chaos would erupt in the wake of such a death. I wasn¡¯t clear if that chaos would happen now or during the finality of the last elder¡¯s death, but one thing was certain: if this elder fell first, pandemonium would follow. Those who relied on him would panic, making them far easier to dispatch.

    This form¡­ the monster I had become¡­ was meant for the elder. His death sentence.

    As Alex and I tore through the open expanse, the structure loomed larger, its grotesque beauty revealing itself in more detail now that I was fully transformed. The material it was built from, that dark wood, was no mere timber; it was bone¡­ hardened, ancient bone carved from the depths of the dormant corpse of Hunger. The building itself was a grotesque testament to the monstrosities that dwelled here, intricately chiseled and designed for gathering. The closer I got, the more I felt the monster¡¯s will intertwining with my own. It wasn¡¯t forcing itself upon me; instead, it was merging with me, as if we were two sides of the same coin. Both of us had our hands on the wheel, steering us toward the same dark destination.

    I propelled myself off the jagged rock floor, shooting upward in a powerful arc, my momentum sending vibrations through the air that would announce my arrival to my intended victim. The building towered above us, five or six stories high, but it was nothing compared to the strength of annihilation that surged within me. I soared through the nightmarish red hue of the cavern, feeling the exhilarating pulse of power coursing through me like a tidal wave.

    As I ascended, new revelations unfolded within me. The monster was utilizing my pulse sense, merging its instincts with mine. Information flooded my mind like a rushing river, its presence ever vigilant, alerting me to threats and keeping a watchful eye on Alex, our companion in this ancient hunt that had been overdue¡­ far too long. Without Death¡¯s presence, the bond between the monster and me had strengthened, allowing us to rely on each other in ways I had never practiced. The reality of what I was becoming settled into my mind, unclouded by fear. I had a job to do, and I was resolute in my purpose.

    My momentum carried me through the narrow opening. My massive, shadowed form scraped against the edges of what looked like a fractured wall or perhaps an ancient balcony. It was barely big enough to fit me; I had to tuck my limbs in close, maneuvering with careful force to push through the gap. Yet, the instant I entered, the pulse, my inner compass, that relentless, magnetic beat zeroed in on my target, pulling me straight toward him. No need for a drawn-out search or aimless hunt through this labyrinthine place. I knew exactly where he was, and there¡¯d be no escaping me.

    I came to a stop on the cold, obsidian floor of the upper level. My footfalls sent low, reverberating thuds through the vast chamber. Ahead, a figure dressed in dark, flowing robes stood under the thin beam of dim, sickly light leaking from a narrow window above. His head snapped up at the sound of my arrival, the barest flicker of surprise crossing his face. His eyes found mine and, for a fleeting second, confusion clouded his features¡­ eyes narrowing in disbelief, as though he was struggling to process my presence here, in a space no one dared to enter uninvited.

    But he didn¡¯t scream, didn¡¯t stumble back, or run as most would at the sight of my monstrous form. Instead, he adjusted his stance, squaring his shoulders, and gave me a look that was half curiosity, half contempt. The robed man¡¯s expression hardened, his gaze like steel.

    The man was tall, his build lean but solid, shoulders squared with the arrogance of someone who knew how to fight. His blond hair was cut in neat, crisp lines around a face that could¡¯ve passed for late twenties, but his eyes were ancient. His skin was a pale white from lifetimes of living beneath the city, far from the sun¡¯s reach. He was older than Alex and me¡­ older than most. But not older than the ancient thing inside me. Not older than the Primeval that had twisted me into this version of itself.

    He straightened, tossing his robe aside with a dismissive flick, preparing to face me. Underneath, his torso bristled with four extra arms, each clasped to the opposite in a strange, concealing hold. As they unfurled, his six arms stretched, each one as thick and muscular as the other, extending with quiet readiness. The horror of what came next would¡¯ve broken anyone else, but not me. I watched each arm transform: muscles twisting, reshaping as dark blood oozed from his skin. His bones reformed, forcing out from under his skin in long, jagged blades. Each arm became a weapon, transformed into broad, blade-edged limbs, dripping blood as flesh warped into brutal efficiency.

    His face contorted as his entire frame stretched upwards, bones popping and cracking under the strain. The man¡¯s body bent, leaning into a half-spider crouch as his lower arms braced him, while his torso elongated grotesquely. His other sets of arms fanned out, blades aimed at me like grim, serrated wings. His skin seemed stretched tight, pulling his human face into something alien, sharper, with raw bone pushing just beneath the surface. And through all of it, that ridiculous blond haircut stayed exactly the same¡­ a detail that sparked a chuckle in my throat, mirrored by the Primeval¡¯s dark amusement echoing inside.

    In a twisted, gravelly voice, he spoke, each syllable dripping with venom. "Who enters? What power do you hold?" His face, half-man, half-something else, carried a sliver of doubt, a hint of fear barely hidden behind that monstrous confidence. He¡¯d changed to fight, to make sure there¡¯d be no mistakes. He knew he needed every weapon he had to take me on.

    A pulse shuddered through me, a ripple of power erupting as my body answered, expanding. I felt my spine ignite, vertebrae cracking, elongating, molten pain scalding from my neck down to my lower back. And then, lower¡­ another crack, deeper and sharper as something new grew, ripping out of me. A jagged tail tore free, dragging along the ground, its weight registering in my mind like a coiled serpent ready to strike. It wasn¡¯t just a tail. It was a weapon, a broad, barbed extension of myself, the bladed edges sharp as razors, hungry to split something, anything, in half.

    I sensed her before I saw her. A soft footfall; Alex had arrived. Her breath hitched as she took in the scene before her, the hulking, twisted spider-creature in front of me, and then me, towering and dark, the Annihilator in flesh. My fanged mouth curved, bristling with the Primeval¡¯s hunger, radiating dread and death. I could sense her hesitation, the quick flicker of doubt as she searched the monster, and then my form, waiting, uncertain of what to do next. And for a split second, I wondered if she even knew which one of the monsters she saw was me.

    I threw myself forward, diving straight for the hulking spider-thing, my fists clenched tight as I tried to wrap my hands around his twisted form. But he was fast, just as fast as I was. With a swift, skittering sidestep, he dodged me, darting to the far end of the room and crawling up the wall with practiced ease. I grunted in frustration, and without thinking, launched myself after him, leaping up toward where he clung to the ceiling. But as soon as I reached him, he dropped, evading me with sickening agility. He wasn¡¯t trying to fight me¡­ he was trying to escape¡­ to get out of my reach and into the protection of what lay deeper inside the titan¡¯s corpse. I couldn¡¯t let that happen.

    I heard Alex from across the room, her own grunt of effort cutting through the heavy silence. She sprinted forward, throwing a powerful swing that smashed into one of his back leg joints. Her claws dug in deep, and with a satisfying crack, his leg collapsed, sending him crashing back to the ground. Now hobbled and his balance shattered, he let out a guttural, animalistic hiss. He spun toward her with a rage that reverberated in his throat. He reared up and swung his good legs at her, sending her flying backward like a ragdoll. Her body hit the dark wall with a brutal smack, the impact shuddering through her bones and organs before she even had a chance to catch herself.

    In a split second, he lunged toward her, his intent clear in his eyes; he wanted her blood, and it was written in his twisted gaze that he¡¯d tear her apart to get it. The Primeval¡¯s thoughts imprinted over my own, giving me some kind of instinct about what it knew that I didn¡¯t. It was easy to understand¡­ Do not let him feed. End it quickly. But my own thoughts were more frantic, a singular urgency driving me forward. I had to reach him before¡­ I couldn¡¯t let him kill Alex.

    Dropping from the ceiling, I plummeted like a meteor, aiming to intercept him, but he dodged again, shifting to my side while keeping his momentum toward her. But it wasn¡¯t a total miss; my body twisted instinctively, swinging my bladed, spiked tail in a broad arc. The heavy stretch of new, sharp muscle connected with two of his legs, severing them completely. Black blood splattered across the floor, the limbs twitching uselessly as they lay detached, their nerve endings firing signals to nothing.

    Now he could barely stand, only managing to drag his weight with the single leg he had left, scrabbling across the floor with his upper arms intact and desperate to keep moving. With one final, desperate lunge, he hurled himself toward Alex, and I mirrored his move, prepared to bury my talons in him and rip the life from his body.

    As he reached her, he spoke, his voice hollow and urgent¡­ but not to me. ¡°He¡¯s here. He¡¯s inside. Send help,¡± he muttered, reaching Alex in a heartbeat, his voice thin and desperate.

    Then, without hesitation, he thrust one of his bladed upper arms forward, the sharp edge piercing her through the chest and pinning her to the dark wood wall behind her. Alex¡¯s scream tore through the room, raw and ragged, as she was lifted off the ground, her face twisting in agony, and the creature¡¯s grip tightened. She let out a pained gasp, the jerking motion wrenching her body, a cruel testament to the force behind his attack.

    Alex was powerful¡­ a special breed of vampire, but even she wasn¡¯t meant to face a creature like this. Not something that carried the sheer, ancient brutality of a Primeval, even if it had only stolen a sliver of that dark power. Judging by the twisted lines of age etched into the creature¡¯s form, he had probably lived centuries longer than her at least.

    His face contorted, a grotesque stretch of flesh and bone as his mouth twisted open. From his jaws, long, pincer-like fingers emerged, stretching outward with sickening anticipation. He lowered his head toward Alex, who was pinned and helpless, her body still in shock. She was clawing at the twisted bone shaft impaling her to the wall, her fingers scrabbling with a desperation that was painful to witness. She tried to wrench herself free, pulling against it with every ounce of strength, her movements wild, but the bone held fast, biting deeper the harder she tried.

    I surged forward, every muscle coiled and driving me forward with all the strength I could muster. But he was already so close¡­ close enough that I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d reach him before he tore her apart. His jaw unhinged, an inhuman gape, and the spidery fingers around his mouth fanned out, each clawed tip reaching toward her as he moved in for the kill, his intent to feed vibrating in the air.

    The appetite in his eyes as he leaned toward her was pure, primal¡­ a glimpse of the ancient, bloodthirsty beast¡­ the Primeval of Hunger. It had no intention of letting its prey escape.

 Chapter 76 - Red Rock

    My talons sank into the elder¡¯s grotesque form, latching onto bones and tissues with a brutal grip. I didn¡¯t slice through him with my talons, I dug them in at an angle, anchoring myself into his body so tightly that each muscle was wound and taut. The impact from my momentum crashed us both off-course, jerking his drooling, pincer-filled maw away from Alex at the last second. His gaping jaws missed her by inches, but one of his massive legs thrashed wildly and smashed down onto her left thigh. It shattered bone with a sickening crunch.

    As we collided, I severed the arm pinning Alex to the wall. She was torn loose from the horror. The grotesque bone spike, slick with her blood and that unnatural oily sheen, remained planted in the wall after she slid off, her leg a limp weight beneath her. She collapsed onto the ground, broken and unmoving. Blood streamed in torrents from her chest where the spike had torn through, pooling beneath her. Though her body was still, I could hear her heart thundering, each frantic beat a surge of life that fought against her grievous wounds.

    I redirected all my fury to the twisted creature, our bodies colliding with bone-crunching and flesh-rending sounds of horror as he fought against my unrelenting strength. I swung my tail into its side again and again as I remained latched on. I twisted the slicing-edge down along its length and struck his body with the flat side, using it like a brutal hammer, moving him away from Alex. Each strike splintered his limbs, pulverizing his arms, and sending him sprawling further back as I finally tore my talons free. He only had one good arm left now, the others shattered and mangled, hanging limp like snapped branches. I saw it then¡­ a realization that slithered through my monstrous mind: he wasn¡¯t a true shapeshifter, not like those with full command over their bodies. This was something else, a grotesque transformation bound to him, one he couldn¡¯t mold or control. And that oily sheen¡­ it brought back echoes of the shapeshifter in the city with Charles. It had similarities¡­ but stark alterations. But I didn¡¯t need answers. I didn¡¯t need his secrets. All I needed was to KILL!

    I approached his scrambling form¡­ each step a heavy thud, that made the floor tremble against my weight and size. The elder shrieked, a desperate, pitiful sound, struggling to rise as his shattered limbs collapsed beneath him. He tried and failed to use his one good arm as a kind of crutch, or cane to pry himself up. It was too weak to take his full weight, and he buckled back down. His exhale came out in a ragged hiss like a tire slowly bleeding out air. Backing away, he began to shrink, losing mass as he retreated. His grotesque limbs retracted, his body pulling back into a smaller, pitiful shape.

    He finally slumped against the wall, now only a shadow of the monstrous form he¡¯d taken. His six arms hung loosely from his shrunken frame, all but one bent and twisted at impossible angles. Black, tainted blood seeped from gashes across his torso, a memento of my razor-sharp talons. He wheezed, breaths coming in ragged gasps as he lay before me in a pathetic heap, his shattered form finally comprehending an agony it hadn¡¯t known in centuries; if it had ever known it at all.

    ¡°What are you?¡± it gasped, desperation thick in its dying breaths. ¡°Where do you come from? How did you gain entry?¡± Its need to understand was fierce, even as death clawed at its throat. It wanted one final answer¡­ to know what kind of being stood over it, closing in on its end.

    Dread rolled off me in waves, a pulsing rhythm that filled the room like a heartbeat. But this wasn''t my heart¡­ it was the Primeval¡¯s. The heart of Myoordrakien thrummed like a deep drum with murderous¡­ cataclysmic power from beyond the living world. It rang out from within the fields, Death¡¯s domain. The pulse of annihilation reverberated the whole area, each beat sending shockwaves through the structure, making the elder quake beneath my shadow.

    I stopped directly in front of it, towering over him. I grew taller, feeding off the Primeval''s dark essence, swelling to a size barely contained within the towering chamber. I stared down at him¡­ blonde hair plastered over a face twisted with terror, his last plea flickering in his eyes. It wanted¡­ no, it needed to know what I was.

    Without a word, I lifted my monstrous foot and brought it down with bone-crushing force. Its chest caved, splintering like a cheap shell. His body convulsed beneath me, blood and viscera splattering outward in grotesque pools as I continued, smashing him like an insect. Each stomp echoed, cracking the floor and sending his gore spilling through the gaps between.

    I didn¡¯t stop. I was lost in a bloody rage, tearing through him until he was nothing but a shredded mass of bone and flesh, my monstrous roars reverberating, warning any living thing within earshot: I was here. And anything that crossed my path would meet the same fate.

    Finally, silence settled, broken only by the grotesque, dripping sound of his remains seeping into the cracks. The rage eased, my mind cooling to a dull throb, though my form still pulsed with the Primeval''s power. I turned and saw Alex, slumped against the floor, quiet. Her body was limp, her blood-red hair hanging over her face, blood trailing down her side.

    I moved to her, knocking debris aside, my hulking frame casting long, twisted shadows over her. I reached down with clawed hands, sharp talons hovering dangerously close to her torn flesh, carefully lifting her from the ground. Gripping Alex''s body, her form small and broken, her twisted leg mangled beyond repair, I recovered her carefully.

    She felt so fragile in my grasp, a shattered doll held together by torn skin. I could feel it¡­ the awful damage inside, bones crushed and splintered from her impact against the wall. Every tiny movement shifted those broken pieces, her body feeling like shards of glass grinding within her skin. Even as I held her, my grip as steady as I could manage, I knew that every moment was agony for her¡­ but I would carry her, shattered and all until she healed¡­ if she healed.

    There was no time to waste. I wouldn¡¯t worry about Alex¡­ not now, not with the lesser monsters outside swarming. I could feel them¡­ they were drawn by the elder¡¯s death like flies to blood. They¡¯d felt his power die, a shockwave rippling through his domain, here in the Primeval leg, and I knew they¡¯d be coming with a vengeance. I scoped the room quickly, my gaze darting from shadowed corners to broken stone, until I spotted it; a gap high in the wall, some sort of storage nook filled with old, forgotten things.

    With as much care as my monstrous form allowed, I gently swept aside the rotten stacks of books and dust-covered parchment. It was the kind that reeked of decay and was almost slick to the touch¡­ flesh-bound pages, saturated with dark, dried blood. I scattered them aside, and with a precise, ginger movement, I eased Alex into the narrow space. Her body was small and limp, her red hair falling in tattered waves around her bloodied face. Crimson leaked from her mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. She was hemorrhaging¡­ bad. I wasn¡¯t usually in the loop on how much a vampire could take. Usually, I just did so much damage, so fast, that they had no hope of survival. I was no scientist running experiments to see what kind of things other creatures could come back from. I had one standard¡­ mass brutality. That usually worked. And this¡­ this looked bad¡­ especially knowing Alex. She was supposed to be one of the strongest vampires I¡¯d ever met. But now¡­ she looked so fragile there, hidden and tucked away from the horrors that would soon flood this place.

    Turning back, I steeled myself, tightening my claws as I prepared for the onslaught. The snarls and growls of the creatures outside were growing louder, rabid, and unhinged, their steps like a frantic stampede through the winding passages. But¡­ this wasn¡¯t just rage. I could feel it seething through the walls. There was something else in the air¡­ a hunger, a palpable greed. They didn¡¯t just want blood¡­ they wanted something far more insidious.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Then I saw it¡­ the elder¡¯s ruined body smoldering on the ground. Wisps of acrid smoke curled around him as his flesh melted away. And from his chest, in the center of that decaying mass, an ominous red glow seeped through tattered skin. With each passing second, it grew stronger, more intense, until the flesh gave way entirely, revealing a gleaming, blood-red stone. It was about the size of a grapefruit, jagged and oddly shaped, burning with an inner fire that throbbed in sync with the primal hunger saturating the air.

    The Primeval¡¯s stolen power¡­ the very reason we were here. The creatures were fighting to claim it.

    I reached down, my hand slick with blood and remnants of the fight, and gripped the stone. It was heavier than I expected as if it pulsed with its own gravity, an insatiable force compressed into this jagged crimson shard. For a moment, I wasn¡¯t sure what to do with it; I¡¯d thought killing the elder would release the essence back to the Primeval of Hunger. But this¡­ this was solid, dense. Unwilling to fade. I had to think quickly¡­ figure out what to do. I knew where it had to go.

    Moving quickly, I returned to Alex¡¯s small, still form. Her breathing was shallow and faint, and her body had curled in a twisted, broken position. But she was alive in her hiding place. I tucked the stone beneath her, burying it between her arm and side, obscuring its glow beneath her form. Light seeped faintly from her edges, casting a dim red hue in the dark slit where I had hidden her away.

    I turned back, stepping forward, every ounce of strength and rage thrumming to the surface. I¡¯d be the barrier. Nothing would reach Alex or the stone. I¡¯d kill every last one of these mother fuckers. I had carved a bloody line in the sand they wouldn¡¯t cross. As the snarls grew to a climax and their eyes appeared in the shadows, I braced myself.

    I was now the guardian of this chamber, the line they wouldn¡¯t cross. And by the time this was over, the only ones left breathing would be Alex and me¡­ I hoped.

    The snarling mouths and twisted claws were closing in; scaling the walls, crawling from shadows, dragging themselves through every crack and crevice toward the beating heart of power they craved. They were here for the relic of Hunger. They wanted power for themselves, never able to steal from the elder, but now ripe for the taking. They¡¯d find nothing but death. Utter obliteration.

    They poured into the chamber, first eight, then twelve, more crowding in as they scrambled over each other. All of the eyes gleamed with feral hunger and avarice. I couldn¡¯t let a single one get past me. I couldn¡¯t risk them snatching the stone I¡¯d hidden with Alex. I couldn¡¯t let them near her while she was defenseless.

    With a controlled turn, I unfurled my tail, the newly formed muscle rippling with lethal weight, spiked edges gleaming in the dark; blood dripped from each black spike¡­ leftovers from the elder. With the sheer force of a predator unchained, I whipped it around in a brutal arc, swinging with such velocity that my entire body had to act as a counterweight. My tail cleaved through them like a blade through soft flesh. They split apart mid-growl and screams; bones snapping like brittle twigs, limbs separating from torsos in sprays of blood, bodies crumpling to the ground in disjointed pieces. The room became a canvas splattered in gore, remnants of shattered bone and muscle painting the walls¡­ oozing to the floor.

    But more came, surging through the entrance in waves, ravenous and relentless. Without a pause, I charged forward, slamming into a group of six that hadn¡¯t even had the chance to react. My talons extended, thick and sharp, and I reached out with my hands transformed into weapons; grasping, crushing, ripping. I felt their flesh give way under my grip, their twisted faces contorting in terror as I tore the life from them with a viciousness that left their remains unrecognizable. Blood drenched the floor in thick pools, and I let myself wade in it, smashing through the bodies, their dying gasps just fueling the monster that raged in me.

    It became a blood-soaked blur. I lost track of how many I¡¯d killed, how many bodies I¡¯d shredded, how many heads I¡¯d crushed in my hands like overripe fruit. The essence of my Primeval surged through me, an intoxicating flood of destruction, and the only thought that pulsed in my mind was to kill, to eradicate, to end anything that dared step into my domain. I didn¡¯t count. I didn¡¯t care. Each snap of bone, each final, choking gasp was its reward. Their lives were extinguished in brutal, unforgiving violence, and I reveled in it, drunk on the power, high on the massacre.

    Then, suddenly, I found myself standing still. The only sounds in the room were my ragged breaths, hot and shuddering. But it was not from exhaustion¡­ no, this was a thrill. The edge of total abandon, a thirst so deep it nearly swallowed me whole. Bodies littered the floor, torn and broken beyond recognition; pieces strewn so thickly I couldn¡¯t see the ground beneath my feet. Whatever this place had been, whatever purpose it had served, it would be forever stained with the slaughter I¡¯d unleashed.

    I felt them, the others, lurking just out of sight, skulking in the darkened corners of the cavernous walls. They retracted themselves away from the building, too afraid to come near. My senses shot out instinctively, an involuntary pulse of awareness, and I felt their cowardice, their fear. The greed that had once driven them here was now replaced by terror, a frantic need to escape. A new beast had claimed the power of Hunger. They couldn¡¯t have it¡­ and they knew it. They fled, never glancing back at the carnage, their hollow eyes wide with horror. They were in the presence of something they didn¡¯t understand; something foreign, something they now understood was stronger than they could ever hope to be.

    With a low snarl, I turned my back on the devastation and returned to where I¡¯d left Alex. Her body lay untouched, the small storage nook shielding her from the red-stained wreckage just feet away. Slick arcs of blood painted the stone around her, but only a few stray drops had reached her small refuge. I leaned in to retrieve her, my monstrous hand pausing as I took in what I saw.

    Her leg, once a mangled ruin, was healed, the pale flesh smooth and whole. Her pants hung in shreds where the elder¡¯s bone-bladed leg had torn through, but her body was intact, flawless where it had once been savaged. The wound in her chest, where he had pinned her to the wall, was gone, skin unblemished save for the rent fabric and the ghost of red stains. She was breathing steadily, each rise and fall calm and even, with no sign of pain or struggle on her face. My pulse flickered, echoing through her chest as I listened closer, and felt the soft beat of her heart, the rhythmic pulse of her blood. She was healed, somehow, beyond the reach of the brutality she¡¯d suffered.

    I grabbed Alex''s body with my monstrous hands, pulling her tightly against me, desperate to shield her from the chaos that surrounded us. But as I shifted her, my heart sank. The stone I had sworn to protect was gone. I thrust my claws into the small cupboard, frantically rummaging through the remnants of this place, searching for any sign of it. Anger boiled in my gut, a primal snarl ripping from my throat as frustration gnawed at me. No one had slipped past, no one had gotten close, so where was it?

    It was official: the stone was missing. The piece of Hunger, the stolen essence of the elder that had lingered here for ages, was nowhere to be found. A stray thought flickered through my mind, a small hope that it had returned to Hunger''s heart, the sickly, feeble core that throbbed somewhere in this forsaken place. That had to be it. But the cold reality weighed heavily on me¡­ whatever had happened, it was not here.

    I scanned the room again, taking in every shadow, every crevice, my protective instincts flaring as I assured myself that I hadn¡¯t just dropped it in the slaughter. My mind expanded outward, searching for any trace of the relic, probing the space with a primal urgency. I focused on the feeling I had sensed when I first encountered the elder, trying to connect with the familiar pulse of the primeval essence.

    And then, like a beacon, I felt it¡­ the relic¡¯s presence was still in this room, clutched tightly against my chest. But as I shifted my gaze, I realized something crucial. I could no longer see the stone. It had transformed and changed, and the realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. It was inside Alex.

    The truth crashed over me, and I felt a surge of protectiveness course through my veins. The stone had found a new home within her. A place where it could relinquish its physical form and do what it was meant to do; to empower. I pressed her body closer into my monstrous form, cradling her gently, fierce determination flooding my senses. Whatever had happened, whatever darkness loomed ahead, I would fight tooth and claw to keep her safe. She was my priority now, and I would destroy anything that dared threaten her to steal back this stone.

 Chapter 77 - Recovery

    There was no time for explanations, no space for anything but the urge to protect Alex and the stone embedded within her. The air felt thick, shifting, as if something in the Earth itself had awakened, rippling through my senses and triggering a cold, sharp instinct. The realization was seeping through the pits, reaching deeper¡­ the other elders must have known that one of their own had fallen. It¡¯s power stolen They were coming.

    I wrapped my arms around Alex, clinging to her as though my own life were bound to hers, and surged toward the exit, every nerve blazing. The mark on my hand, the one Hunger herself had branded onto me, pulsed like a raw wound, urging me to escape¡­ for now. Yet a wilder, hungrier part of me wanted to keep going, to rip apart this entire wretched place until none of them were left. Until I was certain no more threats were lying in wait. But Alex¡­ Alex was my anchor now that the relic was lodged within her. I didn¡¯t know what this meant for either of us¡­ for the end goal of slaying the Primeval of Hunger.

    I had to get her to safety. To Abel, maybe. If anyone would understand, it would be him. Abel always seemed to carry secrets he never fully shared, bits of knowledge that somehow fit when nothing else made sense. He sent me down this path initially¡­ he had to know something.

    Then I felt it¡­ a faint tremor opening up behind us, somewhere near the elder¡¯s corpse. It was like the very ground had split, revealing a pocket, a corridor within the body itself. I could sense figures moving, shifting on the other side, and they were coming through. We had to go, now.

    On pure instinct, I sprinted out of the building. I nestled Alex against me as snug as I could without causing more damage. I was cradling her as if my hold alone could shield her from the imminent threat of the sharp crags of stone around us. Every instinct screamed to protect her from the jagged edges scraping through the dark, clawing at the very air as we rushed past them. I bolted upward, scaling the insides of the Primeval, each movement was a challenge. Jumping from handholds with only one free arm as the other was preoccupied with carrying Alex¡¯s form against me. Then as my palm touched a certain section of wall, a jolt surged through me.

    The mark on my hand, the twisted, glowing brand flared. With a searing intensity, I felt a current like molten metal course up my arm, each pulse urging a direction I hadn''t chosen. It felt as though the Primeval of Hunger itself was communicating through the marking, a whispered question settling in my mind. Where do you need to go? The only answer I had, was escape. We had to get out.

    The petrified husk responded as the walls shifted violently. We were pulled into a yawning void, the darkness swallowing us whole as if a colossal beast had sucked us down its gullet. The walls churned with movement, rocks and spikes shifting and twisting in chaotic patterns, each one a threat to her fragile body. I clutched Alex tighter, wrapping myself around her like a second shield, the razor-sharp points barely missing us as the stone ground against itself. I moved with sheer desperation, every motion calculated to keep her safe from the shifting, churning mass that threatened to impale us. The noise was deafening, and the fire of a thousand cuts laced my flesh as the rocks themselves propelled me upward, chewing against me as it forced me through the earth.

    It felt like we were being ground up, the crushing rocks pressing closer until even the air thinned, heavy with dust and grit. Then, suddenly, the rock convulsed and spit us out. The earth opened above us, expelling us with a force that threw us across the ground, tumbling into a familiar darkness. My senses staggered, taking in the cavern walls, the faint glint of mineral veins in stone. I looked back to where we had been ejected. There was the faintest hint of the petrified bone of the Primeval. It barely scraped through the natural cavern below. That was the part of the husk that we had exited. We were out. We had escaped the pits.

    We flopped out onto the rough cave floor, and just like that, the crushing sense of pursuit vanished. Relief settled over me. We were out, and somehow, I knew the elders wouldn¡¯t follow. It felt certain they¡¯d have no way of tracking us now.

    Charles had claimed the legs were the only entry and exit points, but that clearly wasn¡¯t the full story. It felt as if we¡¯d moved through the remnant shell of the Primeval, slipping through bone and rock as if we were embedded within it. Without passing a single open gateway, we¡¯d been carried through its petrified flesh, my branded mark guiding us along some unseen, hidden route¡­ guided by the will of Hunger itself.

    Alex¡­ I thought in my head. I looked down at my hands which were hard and rigid, forming a hardened shell around her body. My bones locked in a position to not crush her through our movements. Her red hair spilled out from between my fingers, her skin was exposed in places her clothes had been shredded, and she was still unconscious. I sent a pulse into her again, analyzing her vital signs. It wasn''t an exact science, but I got the feeling that she was okay, and in healthy condition¡­ for an anthropophagus vampire. And there it was, right in the middle of her chest. The hungry energy that had once been a solid rock formation. It was a part of her.

    I looked around at the section of the cave I stood in, taking stock of my surroundings. Some openings led out of here, however they were much smaller than my monstrous form had grown. To go anywhere next, I had to revert back¡­ become human again. I reached out with my mind to the Primeval, agreeing with it on what was next. I felt its hands pull back from the wheel, granting me full control again. It slithered back slowly, whisking its power away to where it was stored¡­ until I needed it again.

    My body shifted, shrinking and compacting itself back into human form. This regression back to my human nature was different. I had never reversed the growth of a tail before. And it felt oddly disturbing. My spine felt ten times longer, it clicked and popped as a tightness grew in my back, pulling the muscles back into my core. Slowly but surely, the tightness reached its peak, and I felt like my body had been restored to original form; the monster pressed within me¡­ back in its cage. As always my teeth and talons were the last things burning through the pain of transformation. The first and last signs of the monster I hid from the world; the lingering death just beneath the surface of my skin. I tried to force my eyes back from black, but it was no use. The moment I tried to revert them, I could feel the resistance just as before. They would stay this way, as they had been. As fully human as I could muster, I held Alex in my arms. She was obviously more my size, now that I had returned to normal, but my strength was more than enough to handle her with care, and treat her like she weighed nothing.

    It was strange, to say the least, making my way through the underground caves beneath St. Louis without a shred of clothing, smeared in blood, and carrying an unconscious woman. My brief attempt to strip off my clothes in my frenzy to kill the elder had left me in this unusual predicament. So here I was, trudging through the pitch darkness, buck naked and dripping red, trying to get Alex to safety.

    As I carried her up through the winding caves, leading into the sewer systems, and finally out through a manhole, I realized dawn had already broken. Golden light crept over the horizon, stretching long shadows across the city. With urgency biting at me, I held Alex close, keeping her in what little shadow remained, careful that no sun touched her skin. The last thing she needed was to be trapped in daylight; the last thing I needed was to be seen like this. The combination of nakedness and blood was enough to startle anyone awake at this hour¡­ not something I wanted the morning commuters to stumble upon.

    With no time to make it to Alex¡¯s apartment downtown, I took the path through a wooded area on the city¡¯s edge, heading for my old hideout, the abandoned factory. The closer I got, the fewer people I¡¯d have to dodge. Worst case, I could even cut through the river, stay in the shadows of one of the passing barges, keeping just our heads above water until we reached the factory¡¯s shadows.

    Finally, as the sun fully broke over the trees, I slipped into the dark, crumbling entry of the factory. Alex still lay limp in my arms, safe from the sun and any unwanted eyes. For now, we¡¯d be hidden here, away from daylight and the eyes of anyone who might have wondered what a blood-streaked, naked man carrying a woman was doing wandering the early morning streets.

    The sun was high in the sky, it had been a few hours since we arrived. I found the old mattress, still where I had left it. I don''t think Alex would appreciate the filthiness of it, but our options here were limited. I wanted to run to Abel and see what he thought.. or what he knew. I know if anyone had answers it would be him. I knew death was my best option, but he left me for now. I didn''t expect to see him again until it was done.

    However, as much as I wanted to leave Alex and rush to Abel, I couldn''t break myself away. I worried that something would happen, and the Primeval power would slip back out of her. If it did, what if some passerby could feel it? Some monster or sensitive person would be alerted to its presence. I didn''t want to muddy the waters any more than they were. Not only that, but I felt bound to Alex in a way. It was my fault that she was with us. She had come to the depths with the Primeval and me, to help us. I know she said she was there to kill as many vampires as she could get her fill from, but I knew there was something else. She spoke about it, although teetering around the perimeter of the truth. At the end of the day though I could have sent her packing. Told her to get lost and then I didn''t need her help. Honestly, I probably should have. Look at her now.

    I gazed down at her unconscious form, looking at her damaged clothes and tussled hair. If it wasn''t for that stone, she might as well have died down there. I knew she was a special breed of vampire, but honestly, I''m not sure if that would have been enough to heal back from what the elder did to her in one blow. It sure as hell wouldn''t have been enough to heal back from while still facing the looming threat of that spider-like elder.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    That thing was like something straight out of a horror flick; sharp, bone-tipped legs clicking along the floor, and a body that looked like a bad Halloween mask stretched over too many angles. Just remembering how it skittered across the ground was enough to make my skin crawl. And its face, twisted and stretched in that nasty spider-like form¡­ yep, that was going to haunt my dreams for a while.

    The only comfort? Knowing I¡¯d killed it. Well, technically, stomped it to death. The mental image of myself, fully transformed, hobbling around in a frantic dance while stomping the hell out of it made me snicker. It was like one of those cartoons where some poor soul¡¯s chasing a spider around the house, smacking at it with everything they¡¯ve got. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on me; turns out, even monsters aren¡¯t immune to the universal disgust of spiders.

    This led to other questions, like what exactly that thing was. The only thought that made sense was that it was one of Hunger¡¯s ¡°children¡±. I remembered from the memories I saw and when she spoke that they were like her, with eight legs. At first, I thought it was another shapeshifter, but it was something else entirely. Its transformation had that same dark, oily fluid, though, almost like an ancestor of the species I saw fighting with Alex and Charles in the alley.

    But easy answers didn¡¯t exist in this world. The ones with answers were all too eager to kill me and my friends. They weren¡¯t exactly lining up to share information before I killed them first.

    It was just after two in the afternoon, and the sun still burned down on the ground. I had plenty of daylight left, and I knew there was no way Alex could leave here without crossing straight through it. She was trapped¡­ even if she wanted to leave. For a moment, I considered heading down to Abel¡¯s house by the river to get answers, to grill him with questions. But every time I tried to get up, I stopped myself. I wanted her to wake up first. I couldn''t just leave her.

    Then, out of nowhere, Myoordrakien surged through my mind, like it had somehow heard the unspoken request. A dark force spilled out, reaching toward Alex and sending a wave of dread straight into her mind as she lay there, defenseless. It lasted only seconds, but I saw her face twist with unease before her eyes snapped open wide, and she bolted upright.

    Alex stumbled to a dark corner of the room, bracing herself against the wall, as if she could feel something dangerous nearby. It took her a few seconds, but soon enough, her gaze landed on me, and she realized we were back topside.

    ¡°We¡¯re¡­ out?¡± she said, more a breath than a question. Her shoulders slumped as she took in the fact. I just nodded, watching her closely. ¡°What¡­ happened?¡± she asked, like she was piecing it together slowly, lost in thought. ¡°The last thing I remember¡­¡± Her words trailed off, her fingers brushing against a tear in her shirt, her expression shifting to something darker. She pressed a hand to her leg, stamping her foot on the ground as if testing it. ¡°That¡¯s new,¡± she said, almost to herself, with a firm nod.

    ¡°What exactly do you remember?¡± I asked.

    She hesitated, as if unsure where to start. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡­ thought¡­¡± She faltered, struggling to find the words. ¡°I thought it was over. I thought that was it. Everything went dark, and I thought¡­¡± She swallowed, a faint tremor in her voice. ¡°I thought I¡¯d finally reached the end. And then I woke up here. How did we get out?¡±

    I held up my hand, letting her see the faint, reddish symbol there, still tingling. ¡°This,¡± I explained. ¡°Hunger marked me when it spoke to me. Once everything was dead, I tried to get us out before more came. As we got closer to the border wall, it felt like this mark was pulling us up, like it could somehow bring us to the surface without retracing our steps. I don¡¯t know exactly how it works, but I get the sense that if we need to go back, we¡¯ll have to find part of it¡­ anything that¡¯s still connected to it. Touch it, and it¡¯ll let us back down. Once we¡¯re done, we touch it again to leave. Hunger might be a husk now, but¡­ it¡¯s not gone. Not entirely. I don¡¯t think anything else can come and go like we can.¡±

    She absorbed every word, nodding slowly, her face unreadable as she stared at the symbol on my hand.

    ¡°How do you feel?¡± I asked gently, trying not to lead her into any answers, just hoping she¡¯d give me a hint of what was on her mind.

    For a moment, she didn¡¯t respond, her gaze fixed on the floor. Then, she looked up, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, a shadow that hadn¡¯t been there before.

    ¡°Good, I guess.¡± She shifted uncomfortably, letting out a small sigh. ¡°A little frustrated that I got swatted like a fly.¡± She gave a half-smile, but I could sense the tension behind it. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, and then she tilted her head. ¡°Why?¡± she asked, her voice softer, probing. ¡°There¡¯s something you¡¯re holding back. Something you haven¡¯t told me yet. Just¡­ spit it out.¡±

    I hesitated, knowing this wasn¡¯t going to be easy to explain. ¡°When I killed the elder,¡± I began slowly, ¡°I found something inside it¡­ a relic, the piece of power that it had stolen from Hunger.¡± I took a breath, measuring each word. ¡°So I¡­ took it. But more were coming. That next chamber after the elder, it was flooding with creatures. I knew I¡¯d only be able to fight them if I didn¡¯t have to worry about you. Leaving you behind wasn¡¯t an option. If they¡¯d found you... well, it wouldn¡¯t have been good.¡±

    Her brows furrowed as she listened, and I could see her trying to piece things together.

    ¡°I hid the relic with you,¡± I continued, ¡°hoping to keep you out of sight with the rock. Once I took down the creatures that reached us, I came back. I went to grab you and the relic¡­ but the relic was gone.¡± I let my gaze drift, slowly, pointedly, toward the center of her chest, watching for any hint of understanding to dawn. ¡°Maybe¡­ maybe you feel something different?¡±

    She gave me a bewildered look, then raised an eyebrow and smirked. ¡°Why are you staring at my chest?¡± She crossed her arms, shooting me an exaggeratedly disgusted glance. Back to her usual antics. She must have felt good.

    ¡°What? No, I¡¯m¡­¡± I cut myself off, suddenly realizing how it must have looked. My face twisted awkwardly, and I tried to recover. ¡°I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± Tried and failed.

    A sly smile crept onto her face, a bit of teasing mixed with sarcasm. ¡°Mm-hmm. Always thought you were a bit of a creep,¡± she taunted, though her words had a mischievous lilt.

    I sighed, trying to pull us back on track. ¡°Look,¡± I said, struggling to keep my focus steady, ¡°the relic¡­ it disappeared, and somehow¡­ it¡¯s part of you now. Not physically, but the power¡­ it¡¯s within you. The essence of Hunger. I can feel it, like¡­ unmistakably.¡± I pressed my words heavy into her, trying to get her to realize the gravity of what I was saying.

    She stopped teasing, her expression shifting to something more thoughtful, almost introspective. Her eyes drifted downward, and a flicker of realization crossed her face.

    ¡°When I was out, knocked out, I think I heard something.¡± She spoke hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°A voice. It was¡­ telling me things. About the other elders.¡± She shook her head slowly. ¡°I thought it was just a dream.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Hunger,¡± I said, the realization settling heavily between us. We were both vessels, carriers of monstrous power from ancient beings.

    Her eyes darted away, and a conflicted look tightened her features. The weight of it all was sinking in, and I could see her wrestling with it. She didn¡¯t say anything for a while, and I didn¡¯t push her. I knew better than to think any words of mine could ease whatever she was going through.

    This was Alex¡­ she had her own strong beliefs about her existence as a monster, about the power she already bore. And now, she¡¯d been given even more of it¡­ a curse¡­ from a long-dead titan. I watched, silent, as she tried to process this, knowing that whatever choice she made next, it had to come from her alone.

    "Something¡­ feels different,¡± she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She stared off, her gaze somewhere distant, somewhere I couldn¡¯t follow. It was a place inside her, a world of thoughts and feelings that seemed to swallow her whole. I wanted to reach out, say something that might ground her, but the words died on my tongue. I did have an idea though.

    ¡°There¡¯s someone I think we could go to, once the sun sets,¡± I offered softly. ¡°Able¡­ Martin¡¯s friend. He knows more than even Martin realizes. He was the one who told me to go down to the pits, to burn it all down. He might understand this¡­ might know what¡¯s happening to you.¡±

    But she just shook her head, like my words weren¡¯t reaching her, or maybe she just wasn¡¯t ready to accept what they meant. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, fingers digging into her nail beds as if she could scrape away whatever was troubling her. She looked¡­ lost, like something she¡¯d held onto had slipped through her fingers, leaving only this strange, hollow ache.

    Without a word, she rose from the bed and drifted toward the doorway. Her steps were silent, almost aimless, but I followed her, keeping close in case she needed me. We went all the way down to the ground floor, into a room where the sun sliced through a crack in the wall, casting a slanted, jagged beam of light onto the concrete floor.

    She stopped just before the edge of sunlight, staring at it like it was something foreign, something she had no right to touch. Her face twisted in a mix of wonder and fear, her hand lifting slowly, almost reverently, and reaching toward the golden beam. I watch carefully, my muscles tensed, expecting the sun to sear her skin, for her to flinch away in pain.

    But¡­ nothing happened.

    Alex¡¯s hand passed into the sunlight, her fingers bathed in its warmth, and she just¡­ stood there, her mouth parted in silent astonishment. Her eyes widened, filling with an emotion too raw to name, and then, with a sudden resolve, she moved forward, stepping fully into the light. She hesitated only for a moment, then pulled the rest of her body into the sun, stepping out of the factory¡¯s shadow and into the open air.

    I followed her outside, my mind struggling to comprehend the sight before me. Alex had dropped to her knees, her head buried in her hands, her body wracked with sobs that spilled out, unchecked and broken. She was crying, shoulders heaving, as the sunlight washed over her, casting a gentle glow on her pale skin, untouched by the sun¡¯s usual wrath against her.

    It hit me then, the enormity of what she must have been feeling. For so long, sunlight had been her enemy, a reminder of what she could never have, of the life she¡¯d left behind. And now¡­ here she was, bathed in daylight, untouched, unburned. She was free¡­ free from part of the curse thrust upon her so long ago.

    I knelt beside her, staying silent, just letting her be. Her tears spoke of decades of longing, of the isolation, the bitterness that had shaped her. I watched as she soaked in the sunlight like a long-lost friend, her sobs slowly fading into quiet breaths. Whatever had changed her, whatever relic of Hunger had merged with her, it had given her this, a piece of her humanity she¡¯d thought she¡¯d lost forever. She was no longer a creature bound to the darkness, sentenced to an eternity of night.

    And so, I sat with her in the sun, not saying a word, just there, as she reclaimed a part of herself she''d thought was gone forever. I didn¡¯t say what I was thinking, but I knew that it had to be said eventually. What would happen to her¡­ when we gave the power back and killed Hunger?

 Chapter 78 - After the Meeting (Carter)

    ¡°Looks like we had the same idea,¡± I said, catching Martin¡¯s eye as we met on the quiet street. I hadn¡¯t wasted a moment after hearing Sam¡¯s account of his vision of Patrick and Peter. I¡¯d sought out Martin immediately.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m surprised you found out so quickly.¡± Martin¡¯s expression flickered, a mixture of curiosity and mild annoyance. ¡°Sam was at the bar just last night, talking to Alex before he came to me. I don¡¯t know how long those two have been working together, but I think it was a good thing they were.¡± His tone, however, hinted at a deeper frustration¡­ he wasn¡¯t one to be left in the dark, especially not by Alex.

    ¡°I was surprised too,¡± I admitted, shaking my head at the unexpected combination. ¡°It¡¯s a strange pairing. But considering what we know about Sam now¡­ I don¡¯t think anything can surprise us anymore.¡± A forced smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, though my mind was still racing at the thought of what could be happening with my very own daughter.

    Martin¡¯s gaze sharpened, catching on the edge of my unspoken knowledge. ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked, probing. He was usually in the loop, my confidant when it came to the strange and supernatural. He was the shadowy watchman, the one who always knew more than the rest of us. But now¡­ I saw he was looking for answers in me.

    I exhaled, feeling the weight of Sam¡¯s revelations settle between us. ¡°There¡¯s a lot more going on with Sam than you realize. We met with him¡­ and he told us everything. What he¡¯s learned, what he¡¯s come to understand over these last few years. It¡¯s too much to get into right now, but¡­¡± I shook my head, feeling the enormity of what Sam had revealed sink back in. Sam¡¯s entity, the monstrous being within him, was something ancient, something tied to Death itself.

    Martin¡¯s eyes held a glimmer of intrigue, but he nodded, letting it go. ¡°Agreed. But soon. Once we¡¯re done here,¡± he said, reaching into the small bag slung over his shoulder. With deliberate caution, he pulled out an object wrapped tightly in a large Ziploc bag, handling it as if it might bite.

    Inside the plastic was a small, green hairbrush, unremarkable at first glance, yet meticulously sealed, as though it were some piece of evidence in a murder investigation. I glanced at Martin, suspicious. He just shrugged, his usual flat stare on his face.

    ¡°Can never be too careful,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what Peter might have done to this thing. Didn¡¯t want to risk tampering with it, or¡­ erasing something Shelta could sense by my own clumsy hands.¡±

    I nodded, grateful for his caution. ¡°Smart thinking.¡± Taking the bag from him, I lifted it, inspecting the hairbrush inside. It looked so ordinary, so mundane, just a brush with a few strands of Autumn¡¯s hair caught in the bristles. Yet, holding it, I could feel the weight of what it represented¡­ the inexplicable shifts in Autumn, her strange fixation on Patrick, the tension that had wormed its way into the family. Could a brush like this really be the source of so much unrest? Even with a touch of strange power? It just looked so meaningless.

    Martin watched me closely. ¡°Do you really think Sam could be right? That Patrick¡¯s hiding something¡­ that their relationship, Autumn and Patrick¡¯s, is¡­¡± he hesitated, choosing his words carefully, ¡°something false? Something forced?¡±

    I let out a long breath, the familiar ache of fear settling in. ¡°Honestly?¡± I muttered, searching for words to articulate the dread that had been gnawing at me for a while. ¡°I hope Sam¡¯s wrong. I want to believe this is just a reaction to Autumn reconnecting with Patrick. But¡­ part of me knows better.¡± My voice cracked slightly, and I gritted my teeth, unwilling to let my fear show more than it already had. ¡°There¡¯s something off with Autumn¡­ something I can¡¯t see or understand. It¡¯s terrifying, Martin. I feel helpless.¡± I raised the bag, the brush inside a stark reminder of my limitations. ¡°I don¡¯t have the power to sense what¡¯s hidden in this thing, let alone fix whatever¡¯s happening to her.¡±

    Martin¡¯s expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing over his face. ¡°I know the feeling, Carter.¡± He paused, gathering his thoughts. ¡°Let¡¯s go to Shelta. I spoke to her already, gave her a vague idea of what we¡¯d need, but I held back the details. I wanted to do this in person.¡±

    I nodded, relieved. ¡°Good thinking. We¡¯ll lay it all out for her; the brush, Sam¡¯s warnings, the vision, all of it. I don¡¯t want to leave anything to chance. There¡¯s too much uncertainty in the air. I don¡¯t want her to be unprepared.¡±

    Martin¡¯s face tightened with grim resolve. ¡°Then let¡¯s not waste time.¡± He gave me a firm nod, and together, we started down the path toward Shelta¡¯s, both of us acutely aware of the burden we were carrying; not just the small, green brush, but the weight of the truth we might uncover, and what they could mean for our whole family.

    <hr>

    Martin and I stood on the front porch of the modest suburban house, feeling strangely out of place. The humdrum neighborhood wasn¡¯t where you¡¯d expect to find Shelta Wicklow¡­ someone whose very existence seemed to stretch beyond the ordinary. The Wicklows had an obscure, old power, but Shelta was¡­ different. More than the others. From what I¡¯d gathered over the years from Annabelle and Bartley, Shelta¡¯s power was immense, naturally extending her sight and senses far beyond what any human should be able to see. She was always distant, half-lost in some unseen world, trying to hold back visions and sounds that invaded her from beyond everyone else¡¯s range. You could sense her restraint even in casual conversation, as if she was constantly reigning herself in to stay grounded.

    I raised my hand and knocked, but the door drifted open at the first tap, like she¡¯d been waiting there all along. Standing in the doorway, she regarded us with a serene gaze that carried more awareness than anyone should.

    ¡°Martin, Carter.¡± Her voice was quiet, but it held a weight that silenced everything else. ¡°Good to see you both.¡±

    Before I could respond, I noticed another figure moving in the shadowed hallway behind her. My cousin, Arthur, stood just behind Shelta, his arms folded tightly over his chest. He was close enough to her that it made me pause, like there was something more than just a casual visit at play.

    ¡°Arthur.¡± I forced a smile. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect to see you here¡­ it¡¯s been a while. Not since you and Kayla left after¡­ well, after everything with Peter settled.¡±

    Arthur¡¯s intense eyes flicked toward me, and he gave a barely perceptible nod. ¡°Been around,¡± he said simply, his voice low and rough, as if even that small phrase had enough weight to get his point out.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Kayla?¡± I asked, glancing past him, though I already knew I wouldn¡¯t see her. Martin shifted slightly beside me, his own unease settling in as tension thickened the air between us. Arthur and I shared blood, but he was always the quiet one, the observer, never giving anything away he didn¡¯t want to. Right now, he seemed to wonder why I¡¯d shown up on Shelta¡¯s doorstep this late, and I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he wasn¡¯t thrilled about it. Our family had become strained in the past few months.

    ¡°She¡¯s dealing with a lot,¡± Arthur replied, his voice gruff but measured. ¡°You know how it is¡­ after Zeke¡­¡± His gaze dropped, the weight of unspoken grief settling in his eyes. My cousin, Zeke, Kayla¡¯s father, had been killed in cold blood by Peter Grimwood. He drained his life away in a twisted act of necromancy. It was a brutal loss, one that couldn¡¯t be smoothed over, even in time.

    I nodded, offering what little comfort I could. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Arthur¡­ for everything.¡± I knew it was a hollow phrase, but what else could be said? Losing a sibling was something I couldn¡¯t begin to imagine. I still had Frank and Clara.

    ¡°Managing,¡± Arthur said simply, looking away. ¡°Kayla¡­ she¡¯s an adult. She comes and goes, knows where I am.¡± His jaw tightened as he added, ¡°She¡¯s been through enough. Zeke¡¯s passing hit us both hard.¡±

    A pang of guilt twisted in my stomach. I¡¯d barely seen Kayla since things had quieted down. She¡¯d visited the house once or twice after Zeke¡¯s death, looking lost, not sure where else to go. But then Autumn and Patrick had started flaunting their new relationship right under her nose, and she¡¯d slipped away, fast. It was cruel, the way Autumn had disregarded Kayla¡¯s long-held feelings for Patrick. My daughter¡¯s blatant indifference, the complete lack of remorse or sympathy, left a sour taste in my mouth. It was yet another reason I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something wasn¡¯t right with Autumn.

    Clearing my throat, I met Arthur¡¯s gaze, then Shelta¡¯s. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry for intruding like this, but there¡¯s something we need to talk about¡­ something important.¡± I glanced at Martin, who nodded in silent support.

    Shelta¡¯s expression shifted, a glimmer of knowing flickering in her eyes. ¡°Then come in,¡± she said, stepping back and gesturing us inside. ¡°Sounds like there¡¯s more going on than I realized.¡±

    Shelta immediately sensed the tension radiating from me, the heaviness in the air thickening as I stood there, gripping the strap of my small bag. Her gaze dropped to it, fixating on the subtle outline of the object inside.

    ¡°What¡¯s in the bag?¡± Shelta asked, her tone serious, and unwavering as her eyes remained locked on the item I carried. She was immediately curious¡­ a far-off look in her stare.

    ¡°We should speak inside?¡± I replied, gesturing toward the biting cold and the snow piling up on the porch.

    Her expression softened slightly, an apology flickering across her face. ¡°Of course. Come inside.¡±

    As Martin and I stepped over the threshold into her home, we formed a tight unit, instinctively gravitating toward the small couch facing the living room window. Arthur and Shelta stood nearby, their inquisitive gazes sharp and penetrating, studying us as if we were puzzle pieces that needed to fit into place.

    ¡°This is about Sam, isn¡¯t it?¡± Shelta¡¯s voice cut through the stillness, her power reaching out, probing, sensing the unspoken turmoil swirling around us.

    I nodded slowly, searching for the right words. It felt wrong to divulge everything Sam had confided in us, but I knew I needed to share enough for her to grasp the magnitude of what he had witnessed.

    ¡°Just begin, Carter. I know more about Sam than you realize,¡± she urged, her tone encouraging yet commanding. ¡°But what I don¡¯t understand is why you¡¯re here. I¡¯m not saying you should¡¯ve called¡­ whatever you have in that bag is blocking me. I can¡¯t see the way I usually do. But there¡¯s something there¡­ something powerful.¡±

    Martin and I exchanged glances, the gravity of her words settling in. My grip on the bag loosened slightly, fear creeping in as I considered the implications. What if this thing could infect me? And then there was Autumn¡­ what if this object did have a deeper connection to her? If Sam was right¡­ what then?

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    With trepidation, I pulled the ziplock bag from its exterior carrying case. My hand hovered over it as I reached across the small living room, offering it to Shelta. But just as I was about to let it go, I hesitated. I could see her hands trembling as she sensed its presence.

    ¡°Stop,¡± she ordered, her voice firm and authoritative.

    My eyes widened in surprise, and I glanced at Arthur, who nodded in agreement, a silent affirmation of her command. I lowered my hand, placing the bag gently on the coffee table between us.

    Shelta leaned forward, perched on the edge of her seat, extending a hand toward the object. She didn¡¯t touch it but brought her energy close enough to read its essence. I wished I could know what was happening inside her mind, how her abilities worked, and what she was perceiving.

    Her eyes glazed over, staring into the void as they darted back and forth, seemingly chasing shadows only she could see. Then, abruptly, her expression shifted. Her eyes widened, and she snatched her hand back, clutching it to her chest in instinctual fear.

    ¡°It¡¯s him¡­ Peter.¡± She said his name with grim certainty. ¡°Where did you get this?¡± Shelta hissed urgently, almost frantic.

    ¡°It was given to me,¡± Martin replied, his tone steady, even as the atmosphere crackled with tension. ¡°Alex¡­the woman I work with at the bar,¡± he added, trying to establish a connection.

    ¡°Yes, I know who she is,¡± Shelta interjected, her urgency building.

    ¡°She took it¡­ from Patrick,¡± Martin said, dropping the revelation like a stone into the water, rippling the already tense air in the room.

    ¡°Patrick?¡± Arthur finally spoke, his voice edged with disbelief. ¡°She took this from Patrick?¡± He shot a bewildered glance at Shelta, both of them processing the gravity of the situation.

    Shelta shook her head firmly, muttering to herself, "No¡­Patrick wouldn¡¯t have had this. I would¡¯ve seen it. I would¡¯ve¡­¡± Her words faded as she stared down at the brush on the table. There was something wrong, something layered and concealed that defied her intuition. She leaned forward, closing her eyes to focus, trying to pierce through whatever barrier kept her from understanding. Her brow knitted with concentration, her fingers clawing at her cheek in frustration. But as hard as she tried, she could feel herself hitting an invisible wall. Finally, she slumped back in her chair, defeated. "I¡­I¡¯d never have seen it,¡± she whispered, almost to herself. ¡°I can sense it right here in front of me, but¡­ I can¡¯t see through it. Or around it. Nothing.¡± Shelta¡¯s gaze stayed fixed on the brush as a wave of frustration rippled across her face. ¡°All I can feel is a presence¡­ Peter¡¯s. But not¡­entirely Peter. It¡¯s more like¡­remnants. Something he left behind. Power, or maybe intent, is embedded in this object, somehow. I don¡¯t know why he did it, or what it¡¯s supposed to do, but¡­¡± She glanced up, her voice hardening. ¡°I know it¡¯s him.¡±

    That¡¯s when I spoke up, unable to hold back any longer. ¡°The only reason Alex even took this from Patrick is because of something Sam told her.¡± Shelta looked at me sharply, and I continued, my voice steady. ¡°Sam killed Peter, but he saw a vision before he did it. I don¡¯t know how much you know about him, but¡­he has this connection to something. An entity that gives him names and visions. People he¡¯s supposed to go after¡­ and kill.¡±

    Shelta¡¯s expression turned wary, but I pushed on. ¡°When he got Peter¡¯s name, he saw a bunch of stuff. But one of the last things he saw¡­¡± I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. ¡°He saw Peter going into Autumn¡¯s dorm room. And he saw him kill Lindsey¡­ Autumn¡¯s roommate.¡± A pang of grief and guilt for the girl''s family shot through me. What if it would have been my daughter? ¡°He watched it like he was right there. Saw her die in his vision.¡±

    Shelta¡¯s hand clenched around the edge of the table. I nodded grimly and continued. ¡°After that, he saw Peter take this.¡± I gestured at the brush on the table, feeling a strange chill run down my spine. ¡°He took it from Autumn¡¯s room, then went to Patrick and gave it to him. Sam said it wasn¡¯t the first time Patrick had met Peter, either. He could tell that from the vision, too.¡± My voice dropped to a tight, angry whisper. ¡°Peter spoke to him¡­ whispered things into his ear. And Patrick kept this. Kept it, knowing full well it was connected to him. Knowing Peter had touched it. This¡­this is my daughter¡¯s,¡± I hissed, holding the brush up, my knuckles white around its handle. ¡°That¡­necromancer had it. He did something to her, and Patrick knew. This was in his possession, and he kept it hidden."

    Shelta shook her head, her expression twisted in disbelief. It was almost painful to watch her as she grappled with the hold Peter Grimwood still seemed to have over all of us. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her face, her elbows digging into her knees as if she were trying to steady herself against the wave of hidden details she couldn¡¯t see.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be happening¡­¡± she whispered, almost begging for it to be untrue. ¡°Patrick¡­what is he thinking? And Autumn¡­does she even know¡­ at all?¡±

    I glanced at her, noticing something in her face that I hadn¡¯t seen before¡­ a kind of helplessness. Shelta, usually so steady and unshakable, looked completely powerless. Whatever this brush was, whatever Peter had done to it, it had left something in it, something that blocked her out. Something that kept her from seeing the truth about Patrick and Autumn; only scraps of information trickling in through word of mouth.

    I just shook my head in reply.

    ¡°All I know is what Kayla told me,¡± Shelta continued, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Patrick and Autumn¡­they¡¯re back together. But I didn¡¯t realize how much has changed¡­ how much she¡¯s changed. They¡¯re just walking around like everything¡¯s fine, acting like it¡¯s all perfectly normal.¡±

    I nodded, feeling the familiar anxiety knotting tighter in my chest. ¡°Eleanor and I noticed too¡­ Autumn¡¯s just¡­different. She¡¯s ignoring things, almost like she¡¯s shutting out parts of her life. She¡¯s not in school anymore, she stopped her training¡­ she didn¡¯t even tell Sam she was seeing Patrick again. And¡­ look, I love Sam, but I¡¯ve never wanted them together, no matter what he¡¯s done for us. She¡¯s my daughter¡­ you know?¡± For some reason, I felt guilty. I felt like I had to explain myself¡­ ¡°My daughter. And I can¡¯t shake the feeling something¡¯s seriously wrong.¡±

    Shelta looked up, worry etched into her face. ¡°Do you think Patrick would know if something¡¯s wrong with her? And he¡­ he is still keeping it a secret¡­¡± she trailed off, unsure how her nephew could do such a thing.

    ¡°If he did do this¡­ would he ever admit it? If he had finally gotten everything he ever wanted¡­ would he risk it by telling us¡­¡± I offered the thought to her.

    Arthur, who¡¯d been sitting in silence, suddenly leaned forward, his face set in a thoughtful frown. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but powerful. ¡°Kayla told me something before that I pushed out of my mind. I felt it to be childhood squabbles¡­ a love triangle gone south¡­ until now.¡± Arthur gazed toward the brush on the table as he continued. ¡°Kayla said that Autumn¡¯s not acting like herself at all¡­ like they¡¯re not even family. Some of the things she has said to her¡­ you wouldn¡¯t believe it if I told you. Especially after Kayla lost her father.¡± Arthur eyed me as he spoke. ¡°Kayla and Autumn were close. Autumn would never hurt her the way she has, unless¡­unless something is very wrong. She seems like a totally different person¡­ unbound by her previous convictions.¡±

    We all fell silent, the weight of Arthur¡¯s words settling over us. When he spoke, we listened. He didn¡¯t say things lightly, and this felt like he¡¯d given it more thought than he¡¯d ever admit out loud.

    Shelta let out a shaky breath, staring down at the brush on the table. ¡°I have to call Sarah; she needs to know before we make any kind of move. We can¡¯t just confront Patrick without understanding more of what this is.¡±

    I nodded, relieved to see Shelta regaining a bit of her resolve. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s keep Sarah in the loop. But maybe we should slow down a bit.¡± I hesitated, thinking of what Sam had told me, words that felt strange coming from him of all people. ¡°Sam said¡­he told me he thought Patrick might be a victim here, just like Autumn. That when he saw that vision, felt Peter¡¯s presence¡­he could sense this anger, this hatred, that Peter wanted to destroy all of us. Whatever he did to that brush, it wasn¡¯t just meant to touch one person. He wanted to strike at our families¡­quietly, from the inside out.¡±

    The room fell silent again, our thoughts churning with uncertainty, all of us grappling with the same, unsettling truth, that Peter¡¯s reach might be closer than any of us had realized. It was burrowing into our lives in ways we were only now beginning to understand.

    <hr>

    We were halfway to my house when my phone buzzed, Autumn¡¯s name flashing on the screen. She and Patrick had already made their way there, under the pretense of a family meeting about Sam¡­ and maybe Peter. In truth, we hadn¡¯t told them everything; the meeting was really about them. About what Patrick had been holding onto, what Autumn might not even realize she was caught up in. But as her voice came through the line, it was clear they suspected more than we thought.

    ¡°Dad,¡± she said, her voice tight, gripped with fear. ¡°I think¡­something¡¯s after us. After Patrick.¡±

    The words made my grip on the wheel tighten. ¡°What happened?¡±

    She took a deep breath before answering, her tone shaking slightly. ¡°I was running errands, and Patrick was waiting at my place¡­ at the dorm. While I was out, he started feeling like he was being¡­watched. Followed. He told me he tried to ignore it, but it just kept getting worse, like there was someone¡­ or something, right outside, tracking every move he made¡­ waiting for him to come outside.¡±

    ¡°Did he see anyone?¡± I asked, feeling a gnawing unease settle in.

    ¡°No, he didn¡¯t get a good look at anything.¡± She paused, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. ¡°He said it lured him outside. Something¡­something out there, almost like it was waiting and watching him. He thought he could get to his car and leave but when he made it to the parking lot, it came for him.¡±

    A cold chill ran down my spine. ¡°Came for him? How?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly. He just said it felt like a shadow, pressing in from all sides, crushing him. He tried to run back inside, and somehow, he made it.¡± She swallowed, her voice rough. ¡°When I got his call, I drove straight back. He was so¡­rattled, Dad. He couldn¡¯t explain it, but it scared him¡­ bad. That¡¯s when we decided to come home.¡±

    More complications. As if we didn¡¯t have enough already. I ground my teeth, weighing the reality of what Autumn had just told me against what we¡¯d planned. Whatever had gone after Patrick would have killed him if it had really wanted to. I had no doubt about that. If it let him go, there was a reason.

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure this out,¡± I assured her, hoping I sounded more certain than I felt. ¡°Once I get there, we¡¯ll talk. But I¡¯ll need to ask Patrick a few more questions about what happened.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± she agreed, her voice still laced with worry.

    I hung up, glancing out at the road ahead, feeling the weight of it all settle onto my shoulders. If something was hunting Patrick, it was just the beginning. Whatever he¡¯d gotten tangled up in, it was pulling Autumn in too¡­and us, whether we liked it or not. I hoped that Patrick had just worked himself up in his paranoia or something.

    We pulled up to the house, the engine¡¯s rumble fading into the tense silence that filled the car. I kept my hands on the wheel, staring ahead, feeling the tightening weight of what we were about to walk into. Next to the car, I could see Eleanor¡¯s silhouette through the living room window, her shadow pacing as she waited for us to get there.

    Behind us, Shelta and Arthur pulled in, their headlights casting long, eerie shadows that crawled over the driveway and stretched up the sides of the house. I wanted us all to go in together, as one. Whatever we were about to face, it needed to happen with every one of us in the room, present and ready for¡­ whatever came next. We couldn¡¯t afford any more secrets, not with the feeling hanging over us like a storm cloud about to break.

    I had already called Eleanor while I was out with Martin. I¡¯d filled her in as best I could over the phone, explaining what we knew so far and the delicate way we¡¯d have to approach this. I could hear her reaction even through the receiver, the way her voice hitched when she understood just how much more complicated things were now after Shelta gave credit to what Sam had said. That she felt something in that little plastic brush. But Eleanor didn¡¯t protest, didn¡¯t question. She knew this wasn¡¯t going to be easy, not by a long shot.

    Now she was waiting inside, holding down the fort, probably feeling the same uneasy anticipation I felt; this sense that we were all stepping into something heavy and dark, something we couldn¡¯t yet see the end of. I could only imagine her pacing, glancing at Autumn and Patrick, probably picking up on every subtle shift in their expressions, every bit of tension in the air as they sat together, thinking this was just another family meeting. And maybe they¡¯d start to realize, with each second that ticked by, that this was anything but ordinary.

    I turned to Shelta and Arthur as they got out of their car, both of them wearing grim expressions that mirrored my own. Shelta looked worn down, the weight of what she¡¯d just learned pressing heavily on her. Arthur¡¯s eyes were hard, the kind of look he only got when things had truly gone beyond his control. No one said anything as we all moved toward the door, the silence thicker than I could stand, every footstep feeling like it carried more dread, more unspoken anxiety.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this done,¡± I muttered, mostly to myself, but Shelta nodded, her gaze fixed ahead, bracing herself.

    I took one last steadying breath as I reached for the door. Inside, I could already hear Eleanor¡¯s voice, low but steady, trying to keep things calm, keep Autumn and Patrick unsuspecting. As we stepped through, all eyes would turn toward us, and I could feel the weight of what we were about to bring into that room. There would be no going back after this¡­not for any of us once we brought this secret into the light. Patrick would have nowhere to hide.

 Chapter 79 - Cursed (Carter)

    Patrick¡¯s denial was firm, but Autumn¡­ she truly believed what she was saying. The confusion in her eyes wasn¡¯t feigned; she couldn¡¯t understand why we were pushing so hard. Patrick, though¡­ when I asked if he¡¯d ever seen Peter before¡­ alone, if he¡¯d ever used darker powers and objects on anyone, there was a flicker. Recognition. He knew, but he clung to his lies.  Autumn began getting visibly upset as Patrick squirmed against our hard accusations. We had to change tactics.

    Shelta had linked our minds before we even entered, a connection far deeper than anything we¡¯d used on hunts. We could hear each other¡¯s thoughts in real-time, a powerful tool in this situation. As we pressed Patrick and Autumn, Shelta and Sarah urged caution. Shelta wasn¡¯t worried about Patrick¡ªher fears centered on Autumn. My daughter was trapped in something far more sinister than we could see. Shelta feared pushing her too far might break her entirely.

    Martin, our living lie detector, subtly confirmed Patrick was lying. But Shelta had picked up on something more disturbing. We had to leave the inquisition for now, and all gather in another location to talk openly about what had all happened. We were at Shelta¡¯s again¡­ all of us this time.

    Shelta¡¯s face was pale as she murmured, ¡°I felt her in him¡­ and him in her. Their souls, Carter. They¡¯re reaching out to each other, intertwining. I don¡¯t know what it means, but it¡¯s not normal.¡±

    Eleanor¡¯s voice was steady, but I knew her well enough to catch the tremor beneath. ¡°Intertwined? What does that mean?¡±

    Shelta hesitated, then explained. ¡°Every person has something uniquely theirs¡­ call it a soul, an essence. I¡¯ve never felt two people so¡­ merged. It¡¯s like they¡¯re no longer separate, and it terrifies me.¡± She turned to Eleanor, eyes filled with regret. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry for what Patrick¡¯s done. And for what he¡¯s pulled Autumn into.¡±

    Eleanor¡¯s voice broke, her thoughts spilling out in a rush. ¡°Is that why she¡¯s so wrapped up in him? Whatever this power is, whatever that brush did¡­ it bound them¡­ together?¡± She couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of it.

    We had retreated to Shelta¡¯s house after the confrontation. Autumn and Patrick needed space¡­ especially Autumn. Her reactions had turned physical, trembling with emotion, staring at us¡­ her family, with rage, and it terrified both Eleanor and me. We¡¯d pushed too hard, and it was getting us nowhere. Denials. Confusion. Nothing solid. So we stepped back, holding onto the deeper truths and the evidence we held in that same little Ziplock bag. We were taking it slow with them, just scrapping the tip of the iceberg. But everything went to shit too fast. Autumn¡¯s reaction jarred our plans and worried Shelta quickly.

    Shelta reached for the green hairbrush on her dining table, gripping it tightly. Her eyes closed, face strained. ¡°When I touch this,¡± she murmured, ¡°I feel Peter¡¯s presence, like before¡­ but there¡¯s more. It¡¯s like touching a universal truth, a law of existence. Hard to describe¡­ it¡¯s not a thought, it¡¯s a feeling.¡±

    Eleanor¡¯s hand flew to her throat, her voice tight with fear. ¡°What is it?¡±

    Shelta¡¯s eyes opened, her voice steady but grim. ¡°Obsession.¡±

    <hr>

    We had to regroup. Shelta¡¯s warning about obsession wasn¡¯t just a theory anymore¡­ it was playing out in front of us. After leaving her house, we tried new tactics, probing Patrick for answers when we could get him alone, and gently speaking with Autumn, trying to get her to think clearly. They stayed away from us mostly, thinking their families didn¡¯t support their relationship I figured. But soon, we noticed something unsettling: Patrick was pulling away, not just from us, but from Autumn too. That was the first red flag. Autumn wasn¡¯t having it.

    Eleanor and I were in the front living room, quietly discussing Sam and where he might be. Then came the shouting. Angry, sharp words cut through the house, echoing from another room. We froze for a second before hurrying to see what was going on. Rounding the corner, we found Autumn; phone in hand, face red with fury. She was screaming at Patrick.

    ¡°What do you mean? Where the fuck are you?¡± Her voice trembled with anger, but beneath that, there was confusion and desperation. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you¡¯re doing¡­ you were supposed to meet me today!¡±

    Her fury escalated as Patrick mumbled something on the other end. ¡°Where are you?¡± she snapped again. ¡°I don¡¯t care, just tell me. Now.¡±

    Eleanor and I exchanged a tense glance but stayed quiet, hoping not to escalate things. When Autumn finally ended the call, slamming her thumb onto the screen, she turned to face us. Eleanor, always the gentler one, spoke first.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on, sweetie?¡± she asked softly, her voice a soothing balm against the storm.

    ¡°Patrick thinks he can ditch me for the day,¡± Autumn spat, her tone devoid of humor. ¡°He better have his ass here before the day is over.¡±

    There wasn¡¯t a trace of the lighthearted girl she used to be. No sarcasm, no teasing. She was deadly serious¡­ and it chilled me to my core. Not because of her words, but because this wasn¡¯t Autumn. It was another reminder that we were dealing with something far darker, something that had warped her. We just¡­ we didn¡¯t know what to do. We were waiting on something from Shelta¡­ anything.

    ¡°Autumn,¡± I snapped, unable to hold back any longer. ¡°What the hell is your problem?¡± She glared at me, but I didn¡¯t stop. ¡°You¡¯ve been running around like someone I don¡¯t even know. And Patrick Wicklow of all people? Something¡¯s wrong with you, and you know it.¡±

    Eleanor shot me a warning look, her eyes pleading for restraint. We¡¯d talked about this. Shelta wasn¡¯t sure what might happen if Autumn learned the full truth, that her feelings, her connection to Patrick, were a lie. We needed more time, and more answers before we made any more serious moves and brought the brush into the light.

    Autumn¡¯s face twisted with indignation. ¡°My relationship with Patrick is none of your damn business.¡±

    Eleanor¡¯s composure snapped. In a flash, she raised her hand, ready to slap some sense into her. But Autumn was faster. She caught Eleanor¡¯s wrist mid-air, her grip firm, her eyes dark and unyielding.

    ¡°Watch yourself,¡± Autumn said coldly. ¡°Don¡¯t start something you can¡¯t finish.¡± She shoved Eleanor¡¯s arm aside and stormed out of the room.

    Eleanor lunged to follow, fury and maternal instinct driving her forward, but I stepped in, placing a firm hand on her chest. I pulled her into a tight embrace, whispering, ¡°Let her go, for now. We need help, Eleanor. We can¡¯t do this alone.¡±

    She sagged against me, her defiance giving way to quiet sobs. ¡°What are we going to do, Carter?¡± she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of it all. ¡°How did this happen so fast? I thought¡­ I thought when Peter was finally gone, this nightmare was over. But now¡­¡± She trailed off, her tears soaking into my shirt. ¡°Autumn isn¡¯t even here anymore. This¡­ this isn¡¯t her. And Sam¡­ he¡¯s been gone for a while again.¡±

    Her words hung heavy in the air, each one a reminder of how far things had spiraled from where we had once been. I didn¡¯t have answers. Not yet. All I could do was hold her and hope we could find a way to bring our family back.

    <hr>

    After what felt like an eternity, we were finally all together again. Eleanor and I stood near the front of the living room, just beside the central fireplace. The flames behind us crackled and spat, their warm glow casting flickering shadows across the darkened room. The heat radiated out, filling the space, but it did little to ease the chill of tension hanging in the air. The dread of facing this corrosive situation that was eating away at our family.

    Frank and Jane sat side by side on the worn leather couch, their postures stiff, their hands resting tensely on their knees. They shared a quiet, unspoken solidarity, their expressions grim as they absorbed the weight of everything we were facing. Across from them, Wayland and Clara stood near the bay window, arms crossed, their faces etched with guilt and determination. They had just returned after spending time with Wayland¡¯s side of the family. They apologized for staying away so long, but now that they were back, they were ready to face the storm head-on.

    As usual, they¡¯d left Delilah at home. Autumn was her favorite aunt, and if Delilah had any inkling that something was wrong, she would¡¯ve been in tears. They were protecting her for now.

    Alan and Eloise arrived with Jane. Alan sat in the armchair near the corner, his hands clasped tightly together, his jaw clenched. The strain in his eyes gave him away, even if he tried to keep his emotions in check. Eloise sat beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder, offering quiet reassurance. She leaned in every so often to whisper something, her tone soothing. Alan nodded but said little. He was strong¡­ he always had been. But I knew the cracks were there, just waiting for a safe moment to show. He himself had been gone for a long time¡­ and I could tell he didn¡¯t want to lose any more family. He was feeling things differently from everyone else in the room.

    Arthur and Kayla were next, arriving with Shelta and Sarah, Patrick¡¯s mother. Kayla¡¯s usual warmth was gone, replaced by a somberness that made her seem smaller somehow, as though the weight of everything had shrunk her into herself. Arthur stayed close to her, his hand resting protectively on her back, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for some unseen threat. Always quiet¡­ always watching.

    Finally, there was Martin, standing near the fireplace¡¯s edge. His pale, otherworldly features seemed to flicker in and out of the firelight, his dark eyes quietly observing. He looked like he had something on his mind though. Something he was waiting for the right moment to unleash.

    This was it. The real confrontation.

    The light questioning we¡¯d tried before had gone nowhere. Autumn batted away every concern with true ignorance, and Patrick¡¯s slippery lies only added to our frustration. But Shelta wasn¡¯t about to let him off the hook this time. She stood near the center of the room, her presence commanding even in silence.

    Shelta¡¯s voice cut through the thick tension like a blade. ¡°Remember, we don¡¯t need too many voices in this,¡± she said, her tone low and deliberate. ¡°What we need is everyone¡¯s presence. This can play out in a number of ways, and none of them are guaranteed to end well. But if we handle this carefully, we might be able to shatter whatever twisted web has woven around them. If Autumn can see the truth for herself, there¡¯s a chance she can break the lies and the bindings Patrick placed on her.¡±

    Kayla, her normally subdued demeanor shifting slightly, spoke up. ¡°What about Patrick?¡± Her blonde hair caught the firelight as she leaned forward, eyes wide with quiet desperation. ¡°Can¡¯t he do anything?¡±

    Shelta shook her head slowly, her expression heavy. ¡°No. Patrick¡¯s complicit. He knew what he was getting into¡­ at least, partially. He¡¯s not under the same spell. He¡¯s been feeding it.¡±

    Beside me, Eleanor exhaled sharply, her breathing heavy, her hands trembling slightly. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand,¡± she muttered, her voice cracking under the weight of her growing fear.

    Shelta turned to El, her gaze steady but somber. ¡°I wish I could go back and stop this before it ever began,¡± she said softly. ¡°But we¡¯re long past that now. The best we can do is try to undo what Peter¡¯s done, though it won¡¯t be easy.¡±

    I cleared my throat, drawing the attention of the room. ¡°For those of you who haven¡¯t been caught up on everything,¡± I began, my voice hoarse, ¡°Shelta¡¯s been working around the clock. She¡¯s been analyzing that brush; digging into every angle she can. She¡¯s uncovered a lot, about its purpose, its strength, and most importantly, Peter¡¯s intentions.¡± I gestured to Shelta, deferring to her to explain further.

    Shelta nodded, her eyes sweeping the room. ¡°The long version would take hours, and even then, you might not grasp all the finer details. But here¡¯s the core of it: Peter Grimwood wasn¡¯t just trying to break us physically. His attacks, the ones we could see¡­ those were direct assaults against us. However¡­ there were other attempts, subtler ones, preludes to something far worse. He was laying traps we couldn¡¯t even perceive at the time. This brush,¡± she said, lifting the object from the table, still sealed in its plastic bag, ¡°is one of those traps. It¡¯s infused with power¡­ dark, vile power that Peter drew from his rituals¡­ his communion with another world.¡±

    The room seemed to darken as she continued. ¡°This belonged to Autumn. He stole it from her apartment at the university. But it wasn¡¯t just an object to him. It became a vessel, a conduit for something far more sinister. This kind of magic requires fuel¡­ human life. Lindsey.¡± Shelta¡¯s voice dropped to a near whisper, and the name fell heavy on the room like a curse. ¡°Autumn¡¯s roommate. He killed her. Not for sport, not because he¡¯s a psychopath¡­ though he was, but to power the curse.¡±

    A collective silence gripped the room as the weight of Shelta¡¯s words settled. Kayla gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. The rest of us sat in stunned horror, the pieces of Peter¡¯s malevolence clicking into place with a dreadful finality. More of his corruption spilled into our lives after he¡¯d already taken so much.

    ¡°This curse,¡± Shelta continued, ¡°is one of obsession. It¡¯s designed to tear at the fabric of our family. He¡¯s been watching us for years, studying us, learning our vulnerabilities. He knew our bonds would be our undoing if twisted the right way. He came for Alan first, through that hunting trip overseas. Now, he¡¯s come for Autumn and Patrick.¡±

    The fire behind us hissed and popped, casting grim shadows across the room. The air was thick, suffocating, as though the house itself could feel the weight of what was coming.

    The room was thick with tension, every face lit dimly by the flickering fire. My family glanced nervously at one another, each person too afraid to voice the thought we were all sharing. Fuck Patrick¡­ this was his fault.

    But I knew better. Rationality, cold and bitter, reminded me that while Patrick had used this dark power to worm his way back into Autumn¡¯s life, he hadn¡¯t fully understood the monster he was awakening. He didn¡¯t know what this curse could truly do. Not until it was too late.

    Shelta¡¯s voice pulled us all back to the grim reality. ¡°This curse has two sides,¡± she began, her tone steady, but every word landed like the toll of a tormented bell. ¡°The first is the most obvious¡­ the one you¡¯ve all seen. Autumn and Patrick are together again. But it¡¯s not love that brought them back. It¡¯s an obsession. A sickness.¡±

    The weight of her words pressed down on us, making the shadows seem deeper, the firelight colder. ¡°Autumn¡¯s fixation on Patrick¡­ it¡¯s not natural. It¡¯s why she¡¯s been distant, cold, and unrecognizable. This curse hollows out everything else, stripping her down until Patrick becomes her only focus. Her only need.¡±

    The family shifted uneasily, the scrape of fabric and the creak of chairs the only sound in the room. I clenched my jaw, the memories of Shelta¡¯s earlier explanations replaying in my head like a cruel mantra. My daughter¡­ the bright, compassionate soul I¡¯d raised¡­ was being turned into something unrecognizable. Something terrifying.

    Shelta¡¯s voice broke through again, darker now. ¡°But this isn¡¯t some twisted love story. This obsession isn¡¯t about rekindling a flame. It¡¯s a virus, spreading through Autumn¡¯s mind. It consumes her, leaving no room for anything or anyone else. And when the obsession grows too great¡­¡± She hesitated, her eyes flicking around the room before landing on me. ¡°The only way it ends is with death. She¡¯ll kill him.¡±

    Her words struck like a bolt of lightning, electrifying the room. Kayla shot to her feet, her face pale, her hands trembling. ¡°She¡¯ll what?¡± she demanded, pacing like a caged animal. ¡°Are you saying she could actually kill him?¡±

    Shelta nodded grimly. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time. Patrick doesn¡¯t share the same obsessive pull towards her. He¡¯s starting to pull away, and Autumn can feel it. She¡¯s already unraveling.¡±

    I swallowed hard, stepping in. ¡°She¡¯s been getting worse,¡± I admitted, my voice tight with fear and frustration. ¡°Eleanor and I have noticed the changes. She¡¯s more aggressive, physically, and verbally. I heard her on the phone with Patrick, telling him if he didn¡¯t meet up, she¡¯d kill him. And when they¡¯re together now¡­ he¡¯s terrified. He stays with her, not because he loves her, but because he¡¯s scared out of his mind. And when we¡¯ve asked him about it before¡­¡± I trailed off, the bitter taste of anger rising. ¡°He lied.¡±

    Wayland, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, his voice low and deliberate. ¡°What¡¯s the second part of this curse?¡± His question hung in the air like a guillotine.

    Shelta¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°The second part,¡± she said, her voice barely above a whisper, ¡°is the real danger. This curse doesn¡¯t just bind Autumn to Patrick emotionally or mentally. It binds their souls.¡±

    A murmur rippled through the room, disbelief and dread mingling in every glance. Jane and Clara, ever the strong and stoic ones, broke their silence, speaking in unison. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    Shelta¡¯s gaze was unyielding as she addressed them. ¡°It means their very life forces are now intertwined. If one of them dies, the other won¡¯t be far behind. This is more than an obsession¡­ it¡¯s a death pact. And if we don¡¯t break it soon¡­¡± She let the unspoken conclusion hang in the air, heavier than any words could be.

    The room fell silent, the gravity of our situation pressing down on us all. This wasn¡¯t a fight we could win with fists or bullets. This was something far darker, something beyond the realm of our understanding. For the first time, I felt the cold grip of true helplessness, and it terrified me to my core.

    The room was suffocating, heavy with unspoken dread. Every flicker of the dim light seemed to amplify the weight pressing on our chests. Shelta''s voice was steady, but each word carried the gravity of a death sentence.

    "A soul is singular," she said, her eyes grave as she pointed at Clara. "You have one." Then she turned to Jane. "And you have one. Souls should never mingle. They¡¯re not meant to be tied together. When they are, it¡¯s a bond that can¡¯t be undone without consequence." She let the silence stretch, her gaze traveling across the room. ¡°If one dies, so does the other. Their life forces become one.¡±

    The words hung there, a grim proclamation.

    Wayland exhaled sharply, his voice low and deliberate. ¡°So you¡¯re saying¡­ the obsession will drive Autumn to kill Patrick.¡±

    Shelta gave a single nod, her face devoid of any comforting warmth.

    ¡°And when she kills him¡­¡± Kayla¡¯s voice broke, her words trembling as tears began to stream down her face. ¡°She¡¯ll die too?¡±

    No one could meet her eyes. Eleanor was already crying, quiet sobs racking her body. She¡¯d been like this since we found out¡­ since the moment we learned the full scope of the curse. Our daughter wasn¡¯t just lost; she was consumed, twisted into something foreign. The darkness had warped her, sinking so deep that the girl we raised was buried under layers of rage and obsession. Autumn had lashed out physically, violently. She had screamed threats, her voice laced with venom we¡¯d never heard before.

    If any part of our daughter still existed, it was drowning in an abyss of fog and confusion.

    But Patrick¡­ Patrick was just as trapped. Once we learned their souls were bound, it became clear he was as much a victim as Autumn. Peter had exploited him, used Patrick¡¯s unrequited love¡­ or maybe even his own obsession as a weapon. A crack in our family¡¯s armor, one Peter had driven a wedge into with ruthless precision.

    Shelta¡¯s voice was relentless, dragging us further into the horror. ¡°If we hadn¡¯t found out, if Sam hadn¡¯t seen that vision¡­¡± She paused, her words hanging like a noose. ¡°It would¡¯ve happened exactly as Peter planned. Autumn¡¯s obsession would¡¯ve spiraled. She would¡¯ve killed Patrick. And she would¡¯ve died with him.¡±

    The room was deathly quiet.

    ¡°And then,¡± I said, my voice hoarse, ¡°Patrick¡¯s family would¡¯ve blamed us. We¡¯d have blamed them. A war¡­ exactly what Peter wanted¡­ would¡¯ve erupted between our families.¡±

    Clara¡¯s breath hitched, her hand raking through her hair as she tried to process it all. ¡°This¡­ this just seems so fast,¡± she muttered, her voice breaking under the weight of it. ¡°How did all of this happen while we were away?¡±

    Eleanor wiped her face, her hands trembling. ¡°It is fast. Even for us. After everything¡­ after Sam came back and took Peter, and killed him, we thought it was over. We let ourselves believe in that relief, and while we did¡­ this curse took root. Right under our noses.¡±

    I let my head fall into my hands. ¡°The night Patrick first came over,¡± I murmured, my voice thick with guilt, ¡°Autumn brought him straight to her room. It felt off, but I told myself it was okay. I thought¡­ after we lost Zeke¡­¡± My voice faltered, my eyes flicking to Kayla. ¡°And after you lost Bartley¡­¡± I glanced at the Wicklows. ¡°I thought maybe their grief had brought them together.¡±

    The knot in my throat tightened, the memory suffocating. ¡°But when Sam came back¡­¡± I paused, my hands balling into fists. ¡°He had no idea she¡¯d moved on. And I was the one who told him. I saw the look on his face, and I let him walk into it blind. I thought¡­¡± My voice cracked. ¡°I thought maybe Patrick could give her a life. A future. Kids, even. But now¡­¡±

    Allen¡¯s face was a mask of pain, his jaw clenched so tightly I could hear the faint grinding of his teeth. Beside him, Eloise gripped his hand, her other thumb rubbing slow, steady circles on the back of his neck, a futile attempt to soothe.

    But there was no comfort here. No way to undo what had been done. We were on borrowed time, racing against a curse that had already sunk its claws into our family.

    ¡°As soon as Autumn and Patrick began spending so much time together, they became distant¡­ isolating themselves. Patrick was hiding it, keeping them away so we wouldn¡¯t pry. And Autumn¡­ she¡¯s consumed by her obsession with him. Nothing else matters to her now¡­ not what we think, not even how we feel. I doubt it¡¯s even crossed her mind,¡± I slowly explained.

    ¡°That¡¯s why it feels like everything happened so fast. We were too distracted, still reeling from Peter¡¯s chaos. At first, it just seemed odd, but now¡­ it¡¯s spiraled into something much worse,¡± Eleanor spoke numbly.

    Sarah finally broke the silence, tears brimming in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve heard Patrick at night,¡± she said softly. ¡°When he comes home, he talks to himself. He¡¯s scared. I think he knows Autumn isn¡¯t herself anymore. He can sense it¡­ the darkness pulling them into something twisted. I¡¯ve even heard him crying recently, in his room.¡±

    I glanced at Kayla. She had her face buried in her hands, silently sobbing. She¡¯d been furious with them¡­ angry at how they¡¯d cast her aside. But now? That anger was turning into guilt. She realized Patrick and Autumn weren¡¯t entirely to blame. They were pawns, victims both¡­ corrupted by a dark force beyond their understanding. Attacked by the same evil that took her father.

    The more I thought about it, the less angry I was with Patrick. Peter Grimwood was a monster¡­ no, worse. A necromancer. He¡¯d handed Patrick a death sentence, wrapped up like a gift¡­ the one thing he wanted more than anything else¡­ a way back to Autumn. It was like giving a loaded gun to a child. Patrick had no idea what he was holding, no clue how much damage it could cause. And yet, he used it, blindly, ignorant of the consequences.

    Shelta laid out the plan, her voice cold and pragmatic. ¡°We confront them. Corner them both and reveal everything. Autumn will deny it¡­ she¡¯s too far gone to see what¡¯s wrong. All she knows is Patrick isn¡¯t giving her the affection she craves. But Patrick¡­ if we can get him to admit it in front of her, to say it¡¯s all a lie¡­ that their bond is the result of a curse; then maybe we can break it. That¡¯s our only shot.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Wayland spoke up, his voice grim. ¡°But her mind won¡¯t handle it, will it? If we shatter her reality and force her to see the truth, could it bring the real Autumn back? Even for a moment?¡± He looked to Shelta, hope flickering in his eyes.

    Shelta nodded. ¡°That¡¯s the goal. If we can get her to question everything, the cracks might let her true self through. But it¡¯s risky¡­ none of this is guaranteed. We¡¯re improvising here.¡± She stopped talking and raised her hand to her nose. It was then I saw it was bleeding slightly. She wiped the back of her hand against her nose and upper lip, smearing a small streak of blood before wiping it away a second time.

    ¡°Shelta,¡± I spoke out, concerned. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    She nodded quickly, ¡°Reaching into this thing with my power¡­ it¡¯s had¡­ consequences.¡± She motioned down to the brush. She continued, holding up the cursed brush. ¡°I¡¯ve reached out to my mother¡¯s old contacts; sorcerers, witches, people who¡¯ve battled ancient evils. They¡¯re shocked this kind of power is still active. They¡¯ve told me that the dark forces they¡¯ve fought for centuries are fading. Ever since Peter¡¯s death, it¡¯s like a tide going out. Necromancers, witches, all the things that prey on power in the shadows¡­ they¡¯re losing their grip. Some have vanished entirely.¡±

    Shelta¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°But this curse? It shouldn¡¯t exist anymore. The power tied to it should have died with Peter. The only explanation is that it¡¯s linked to whatever force kept bringing him back from the dead. Something ancient and malevolent from the other world¡­ something even darker than we¡¯ve faced before. I think that it¡¯s only still around because it¡¯s fueled by the life he stole for it¡­ Autumn¡¯s roommate¡­ Lindsey. This brush is its last remnant. If we don¡¯t act, it¡¯ll consume them both.¡±

    The significance of Shelta¡¯s words was not lost on anyone. This wasn¡¯t just a curse. It was the last exhale of something ancient, a dying ember of a force that had stained our world for centuries. And even now, on its last legs, it could still tear us apart.

    I swallowed hard, piecing together the horror Shelta had hinted at, trying to reconcile it with everything Sam had told us before. ¡°This... this all goes back to Peter,¡± I said, my voice low, grim. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just him. It was his benefactor. That thing from the other side.¡±

    Everyone shifted uncomfortably, the memory of Sam¡¯s confessions still raw. ¡°When Peter dragged Sam into that other world, abandoned him there, he left him to face something far worse. Sam called it a Primeval¡­ some kind of ancient monster¡­ a titan. But it was more than that. It was the foundation of that place.¡± I paused, locking eyes with Eleanor, then Frank and Jane. ¡°Sam said it was a literal hell itself. And when he killed it, the whole dimension collapsed.¡±

    Shelta¡¯s eyes widened, her lips pressed into a thin, pale line. Even Martin seemed shaken, his usual solid composure cracking. He leaned forward, his voice cutting through the silence. ¡°Sam¡¯s gone¡­ for now, at least. I spoke with Charles.¡± This was what he had on his mind.

    ¡°Charles?¡± I frowned. ¡°He¡¯s back? I thought you couldn¡¯t reach him.¡±

    Martin nodded. ¡°He¡¯s leaving the city. Taking his family and getting the hell out. He said things are about to get dangerous down below. More dangerous than they¡¯ve ever been.¡± His gaze flickered toward Eleanor and me, the unspoken influence of his words sinking in. ¡°Sam and Alex went into the pits. Together. Sam told Charles he was going down there to kill everything.¡±

    The room fell silent. The enormity¡­ the impossible task of what Sam had chosen to do wasn¡¯t lost on any of us. None of us knew true details about the pits¡­ only that it was home to the darkest, deepest depths where evil resided. Thankfully the most heinous of creatures remained veiled below.  He¡¯d willingly walked into the heart of the abyss, into a den of horrors that no sane person would even dare imagine. A suicide mission¡­ except for Sam, death had become a companion.

    ¡°He¡¯s not just fighting monsters,¡± I said, glancing at Eleanor, hoping for a nod of approval to tell some of what Sam had told us. I¡¯d hate to betray his trust¡­ but¡­ if he knew it was part of trying to save Autumn¡­ I think it would be what he¡¯d want. ¡°He¡¯s a part of something¡­ much bigger. And what¡¯s inside him¡­ it¡¯s something none of us can truly understand.¡±

    Shelta¡¯s voice was tight, skeptical but intrigued. ¡°And what is he, exactly? What kind of power could stand against something like the pits¡­ or Peter¡¯s benefactor? Something with that much reach, that much control?¡±

    I exhaled slowly, trying to find the words. ¡°The thing inside him isn¡¯t something we can categorize. It¡¯s in a new category¡­ all on its own. It¡¯s ancient¡­ another Primeval¡­ but different somehow¡­ older than language. Sam calls it Myoordrakien, but even that¡¯s just a placeholder, a sliver of its true identity. At least¡­ that¡¯s how Sam told it.¡± I thought back to the last words I had with my friend.

    Shelta¡¯s face darkened. ¡°And what backs that kind of power? What keeps him going?¡±

    I hesitated. This wasn¡¯t something I wanted to put into words. But hiding it wouldn¡¯t help. ¡°It¡¯s bound to something greater than even the Primeval,¡± I said finally, my voice heavy. ¡°The entity inside Sam, the one that grants him that power, isn¡¯t from our world. It¡¯s tied to something¡­ absolute.¡± I met everyone¡¯s eyes, letting the truth settle over them like a suffocating fog. ¡°The thing keeping Sam alive¡­ the force he serves that grants the names and visions¡­ is Death itself.¡±

    A stunned silence followed. The kind that made you feel the walls closing in. No one spoke, but the unspoken dread was palpable, even in name alone. This wasn¡¯t just about curses or ancient evils anymore. This was a war on a scale none of us could comprehend. And Sam? He was our only weapon, a living embodiment of something as unstoppable as the end of all things.

    It would take time for them to process what I had dropped on them. Hell, Eleanor and I were still grappling with it ourselves, even after hearing it straight from Sam. But they didn¡¯t have the luxury of time. Autumn and Patrick were due home soon, and we needed them here for this.

    <hr>

    We¡¯d baited the trap well: told Autumn everyone wanted to throw them a big dinner, a gesture of apology for how we¡¯d treated them before. It was a low move, but necessary. If Autumn believed the invitation was genuine, she¡¯d show up¡­ and drag Patrick with her. He¡¯d follow, not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. Autumn ran the show now. He was just a shadow, his fear the only thing holding him upright. We were counting on that fear to help us break this thing once and for all.

    When they finally stepped inside, Autumn¡¯s eyes flicked around, her smile collapsing. ¡°Wait¡­ no dinner? No cookout?¡± Her voice was sharp, suspicion already cutting through her confusion. ¡°What is this?¡±

    Patrick, standing a step behind her, fidgeted nervously. ¡°Yeah¡­ I thought this was supposed to be a celebration?¡± His voice wavered, and he gave a weak laugh. ¡°We¡¯re back together. Isn¡¯t that, uh, a big deal?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s agitation only grew. She crossed her arms, glaring at us. ¡°Well? Did you change your minds or something? Because this is seriously messed up if you did.¡± She shot Patrick a glance, and he immediately clammed up, his gaze dropping to the floor.

    The silence dragged, and Patrick, clearly panicked, tried to fill it. ¡°Uh, things have been really good lately,¡± he stammered, his voice cracking. ¡°We¡¯ve, uh, worked everything out. Right, Autumn?¡± His smile was nervous, almost pleading.

    Autumn¡¯s jaw tightened as she nodded, gripping his hand hard enough to make him wince. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re fine now. We¡¯re happy. Isn¡¯t that what matters?¡± Her tone was defensive, bordering on hostile.

    Their words tumbled out in a rush, like they were desperate to justify themselves to us¡­ to each other. They had no idea why we were really here, no inkling of the truth waiting to tear through their fragile reality. But they¡¯d know soon enough.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get back to all that soon, Autumn,¡± I said, my voice deliberately even, trying to steer the conversation. I glanced around at the others¡­ Eleanor, Martin, Shelta, and Sarah, Patrick¡¯s mother; before returning my gaze to the two of them. ¡°But first, we need to address why we¡¯re really here.¡±

    They exchanged wary glances, tension thickening in the room as everyone¡¯s eyes fixed on them. Autumn stood tall, defiant. Her eyes flickered with a sharp, unyielding confidence that dared us to come at her. She didn¡¯t believe she had anything to hide. Patrick, though, his nervous energy was palpable. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hands twitching at his sides.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Autumn demanded, her tone sharp and accusatory. Her eyes darted between us. ¡°Why are you all staring at us like that?¡± She turned on Patrick, her frustration bubbling. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Patrick opened his mouth, then shut it again, sheepish. He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. The boy was mortified.

    Shelta hesitated, her hands twitching at her sides. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be the one to touch it,¡± she muttered. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of that thing. I don¡¯t even want to be near it.¡±

    I reached for the bag sitting at my feet, pulling it onto the table with deliberate slowness. Inside was a clear Ziploc bag containing the green brush. I lifted it, holding it up for them to see.

    Autumn blinked, incredulous. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± she spat, her voice hard and full of disdain. There was no respect, no fear. Just raw, irritated defiance.

    I kept my eyes on Patrick. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell us, Patrick?¡±

    He flinched. ¡°What? What do you mean?¡± His voice cracked as he glanced around, searching for an ally in the room. His gaze landed on Shelta, then his mother, but they didn¡¯t budge. Both women stared at him, their expressions as hard as stone. There was no comfort there.

    ¡°What is this, Patrick?¡± I pressed, my tone cold.

    Shelta stepped forward. ¡°If you know something about this, you need to speak up. You should have told us the moment it happened¡­ the moment we asked you about Peter¡­ but you lied. We gave you chances Patrick¡­ and you kept choosing the lies.¡± Her voice was uncharacteristically firm, her usual warmth stripped away.

    Patrick¡¯s face crumpled. He was trapped. His aunt, the woman who¡¯d always been in his corner, was now standing against him. And Sarah¡­ his mother¡¯s eyes brimmed with tears, her voice trembling as she spoke.

    ¡°Patrick, just be honest,¡± Sarah pleaded. ¡°Please. Whatever this is, it¡¯s dangerous. You don¡¯t mess around with things like this.¡± She wiped her face, barely holding herself together. ¡°It¡¯s not too late. Tell us the truth.¡±

    Her words seemed to hit him like a hammer. His eyes welled up, his composure cracking as he realized the weight of the moment. We knew it all. We¡¯d known it for a while now¡­ and he finally saw it.

    Autumn, however, wasn¡¯t having any of it. ¡°What the hell are you all talking about?¡± she snapped, stepping forward. ¡°Why are you ganging up on him? What¡¯s with the brush? Why do you care so much?¡±

    Then, her eyes landed on it again, her brow furrowing. She tilted her head slightly, confusion giving way to faint recognition. Her gaze sharpened, and then it hit her. Her jaw tightened, and her voice dropped into a low, dangerous register. ¡°Wait¡­ that¡¯s mine. How did you get that?¡±

    Eleanor stepped forward, her voice choked with emotion but firm enough to cut through Autumn¡¯s growing fury. ¡°Sweetheart¡­ you recognize it, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Autumn nodded, her expression hard. ¡°Yeah, obviously. It¡¯s mine. So what?¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°Why do you have it? What¡¯s so important about some stupid brush?¡±

    The room fell silent, the weight of her question hanging in the air. This was the tipping point. She had no idea what she¡¯d just stepped into¡­ but she was about to find out.

    ¡°Autumn,¡± I said, my voice steady but firm, trying to ground her spiraling frustration. ¡°Did Sam come to see you? A while back. After he killed Peter. When Sam¡­ took him from our backyard, and we never saw them again.¡±

    Her face twisted in confusion, her brown eyes narrowing. ¡°No,¡± she snapped, her tone laced with irritation. ¡°Why would he? He never came to see me.¡±

    Her denial was the sharp truth. But I could see something flicker beneath the surface, a subtle shift in her expression as she tried to make sense of my question. Did she remember something?

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember him coming over?¡± I pressed. ¡°Telling you something important. Something very important.¡±

    She stared at me, her eyes flicking to Patrick briefly before darting away. There was no recognition, only growing anger. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± she said, her voice rising. ¡°I don¡¯t remember anything like that.¡±

    But I knew better. Something was buried deep within her memory. Sam had told me everything about that night. How she¡¯d recoiled, stepping back in fear, as if death itself had walked into her living room. She had to remember. She had to.

    Her gaze shifted, distant now, as though trying to reach for a memory that remained just out of her grasp. Patrick, standing beside her, grew visibly tense. His hands fidgeted, and sweat began to bead at his temple. He wasn¡¯t good at hiding his guilt. His wide eyes darted nervously between us, and in that moment, I saw it. He knew we had them cornered. Nowhere to go.

    I swallowed the rising frustration, forcing my voice to remain calm. ¡°You don¡¯t remember him talking to you? About who he is, about what he is¡­ what he¡¯s tied to?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s brow furrowed deeper. Her confusion was real now, a storm of irritation and doubt swirling in her mind. ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± she said, but the words came slower, as if she was second-guessing herself. ¡°I¡­ I remember Sam leaving the house, maybe. But he didn¡¯t tell me anything. No secrets. Nothing like that.¡±

    She faltered, glancing at Patrick again, searching his face for support. ¡°Patrick, do you remember that night?¡± Her voice softened, laced with a flicker of uncertainty. ¡°You were there, right? Did you show up after¡­ or maybe before? I don¡¯t know. Everything¡¯s mixed up.¡± She slammed her palms into her face like she could press the answers into her brain through her face. She shook her head in growing frustration at her own mind and all of us. But we saw it¡­ it was happening. The cracks were forming.

    Patrick¡¯s lips parted, but no words came out. He was frozen, his face pale as the weight of her gaze bore down on him. He looked like a man standing on a collapsing bridge, unsure whether to jump or cling to the wreckage.

    ¡°Patrick,¡± I said, cutting through the silence, my tone hard. ¡°What do you know? It¡¯s time to come clean.¡±

    Shelta¡¯s voice was quiet but carried authority. ¡°If you¡¯re hiding something, you need to tell us. Now.¡± Her eyes bore into him, a sharp contrast to her usual gentle demeanor. Even Sarah, standing beside her, looked on with a mix of worry and determination. Tears shimmered in her eyes, the cracks in her composure growing.

    Patrick¡¯s breath hitched, his face crumpling under the collective weight of our scrutiny. He could see the disbelief and frustration mounting in Autumn¡¯s eyes as she stared at him, waiting for him to explain. Her patience, already thin, was fraying rapidly.

    ¡°Patrick, what the hell is going on?¡± Autumn¡¯s voice was sharp, rising in pitch as her confusion transformed into outright anger. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you saying anything? What are they talking about?¡± Emotion bubbled up in Autumn¡¯s throat. Betrayal laced her mind as she looked upon Patrick¡¯s guilty face.

    Patrick¡¯s lips quivered. He glanced at her, his eyes pleading for understanding, for forgiveness he hadn¡¯t yet asked for. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean for any of this,¡± he finally choked out, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Autumn stepped back, her hands balling into fists at her sides. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean for what? What did you do, Patrick?¡± she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear.

    He looked down, shame coloring his face. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t know it would go this far,¡± he muttered. ¡°I thought it was¡­ I thought it was harmless. It just happened and I¡­ I fell into it. I didn¡¯t think this would happen,¡± he motioned towards Autumn¡¯s murderous visage.

    Autumn stared at him, her face a mask of betrayal. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± she shouted. Her eyes flicked to the brush in my hand, realization dawning as the fragments of memory clicked into place. ¡°That¡¯s mine! Why do you have it?¡± Her brain needed help¡­ she was going in circles of confusion.

    Eleanor stepped forward, her voice strained but steady. ¡°Sweetheart, you remember now, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Patrick¡¯s knees nearly buckled under the weight of her glare, his voice breaking as he whispered, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Autumn.¡±

    Patrick¡¯s sobs ripped through the room, jagged and raw. His shoulders trembled violently as he collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. The sound of his anguish filled the air, choking the space with a suffocating weight. His arms scabbed over with fresh, jagged cuts, told their own story¡­ a grim testament to how much Autumn had changed. She¡¯d been hurting him. Whatever Patrick and Autumn had been going through, for Patrick¡­ it was a nightmare. And now, it was unraveling before his eyes.

    Autumn was on him in an instant, sliding onto the couch beside him and wrapping her arms around his shaking form like a predator trying to calm its prey before the death blow. She pulled his head into her neck, her voice a frantic whisper, trying to piece him back together. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Patrick. It¡¯s going to be okay,¡± she murmured, her hand stroking his hair with twisted obsession, unable to see the reality of everything going on around her. ¡°Whatever it is, you can tell me. No matter what happens, I¡¯m here. I¡¯m not leaving you.¡± She truly didn¡¯t care what it was we were trying to get him to admit. Her shifts in mood were jarring¡­ scary.

    Her words hit like a slap. My stomach twisted in disbelief. How could she say that? After everything? After all the warnings, after all the signs? It was like she was willfully blind, shutting out everything around her to cling to this moment. Her devotion wasn¡¯t normal¡­ it was desperate, cloying, dark.

    Patrick stirred beneath her touch, his sobs subsiding just enough for him to push her away. ¡°No¡­ no, Autumn, stop,¡± he choked out, shaking his head as he stood. His knees buckled slightly, but he steadied himself, taking a step back from her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry for what I¡¯ve done to you.¡±

    Autumn froze, her face a mixture of shock and anger. Her hands hovered mid-air, as if she didn¡¯t know whether to pull him back or let him go. ¡°Patrick,¡± she whispered, her voice trembling. ¡°What are you talking about? What did you do?¡± Betrayal returned to her face, quivering with emotion, and then solidifying with rage again. It was like watching a kaleidoscope of emotion¡­ ever-shifting and returning through a cycle as her mind tried to comprehend what was going on.

    The room seemed to close in on itself, everyone¡¯s attention locking onto Patrick. Shelta¡¯s eyes narrowed, Sarah¡¯s hands clenched tightly at her sides, and even Martin leaned forward slightly, the usual calm in his expression replaced by sharp, cold focus. He was watching Autumn closely¡­ waiting for her to try something.

    Patrick¡¯s breathing quickened. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if trying to shake off some invisible stain. ¡°He¡­ he came to me,¡± Patrick said, his voice hollow. ¡°When I was alone. When no one else could help. He knew everything¡­ about Sam, about you,¡± his eyes flicked to Autumn, then away, ¡°about us.¡±

    He paused, his lips trembling as he tried to force the words out. ¡°He said he could make me stronger. Stronger than anyone in the family. Strong enough to finally be¡­ enough.¡± His voice cracked, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. ¡°He knew how much I hated Sam. How much I hated him for taking you away from me.¡±

    ¡°Patrick,¡± Autumn breathed, her voice breaking. Her hands fell into her lap, her face pale.

    Patrick winced but pushed forward. ¡°He told me we could kill Sam together,¡± he said, his eyes glassy with tears. ¡°That it was the only way to make things right. He promised me that, after Sam was gone, everything would fall into place. I believed him. I wanted to believe him.¡±

    He stopped, his chest heaving as fresh tears spilled over. ¡°But then¡­ then he killed Dad.¡±

    A gasp broke the silence¡­ Autumn, clutched her chest as if the words had physically struck her. Patrick barely registered her reaction, his voice rising as his emotions spiraled out of control. ¡°He swore he wouldn¡¯t hurt our family,¡± he said, his words spilling out in a frantic rush. ¡°He said it was all about Sam. That Dad was just¡­ collateral. But after that, I couldn¡¯t do it anymore. I told him to leave me alone. I told him I didn¡¯t want any part of it.¡±

    Autumn clenched her teeth and leaned back on the couch as she fell silent. It didn¡¯t look like her staring at Patrick anymore. Behind her eyes¡­ it looked like an animal. Cold and emotionless eyes gazed over Patrick as he spoke. Her face frozen like a lifeless mannequin. It sent heartache through me as I didn¡¯t see my daughter anymore¡­ and it sent chills crawling across my back in stabbing waves.

    ¡°But he wouldn¡¯t stop.¡± Patrick¡¯s voice broke into a sob, his hands gripping his hair as if he could pull the memories free. ¡°He kept coming back. He said¡­ he said I could fix everything if I just reached out. If I just grabbed onto something that wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. Something from¡­ from somewhere else. Another dimension. He called it that. A place where everything I wanted could be real.¡±

    We all stared, the weight of his confession sinking in. No one dared to breathe.

    Patrick wiped his face with a trembling hand, his eyes red and hollow. ¡°I tried. I tried to make him leave, but he wouldn¡¯t stop. And then, just before Sam finally killed him, he came to me one last time.¡± His voice dropped, low and haunted. ¡°He brought me this.¡±

    Patrick reached out and pointed to Autumn¡¯s brush, staring at it like a plagued artifact. ¡°He said that was the key,¡± he whispered.

    "What is it?" I demanded, my voice low but laced with menace as I stepped closer to Patrick. "What did you do to her?"

    Patrick recoiled, his wide, bloodshot eyes flickering with fear. He stumbled back a step, the weight of my words pinning him in place. "I¡­ I don''t know," he stammered, his voice cracking. "I swear, I didn¡¯t mean for this to happen. I just showed up... I had it with me, but I didn¡¯t really know what it would do."

    My jaw tightened. "But you knew," I accused, my tone sharpening. "You knew it would get you something. You knew it was tied to Autumn."

    Patrick hung his head low, his shame pooling around him like a dark cloud. "I did," he whispered hoarsely. "I didn¡¯t know exactly what would happen, but¡­ after Dad, after everything¡ª" His voice faltered, thick with grief. "I just wanted something. I wanted her back. I wanted us to be like we were before."

    Before I could respond, Autumn¡¯s figure blurred in my peripheral vision. In one swift motion, she stepped between us, her hand pressing against my chest and shoving me backward with surprising force. "Back off, Dad," she snapped, her voice colder than I had ever heard. Her eyes burned with a feral rage, their intensity sending a chill through the room.

    Eleanor¡¯s voice cracked like a whip. "Autumn Chasse!" She stormed forward, grabbing Autumn by the arm and yanking her back. "Don¡¯t you dare lay a hand on your father again." With a fierce shove, Eleanor threw her back toward the couch. Putting her in her place, no matter what was going on with her.

    Autumn bounced off the arm of the couch and landed with a thud, but didn¡¯t flinch. She stared back at us, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her gaze was wild, unhinged, and laced with something far darker than mere defiance as she lay on the floor. There was a glimmer of something unnatural in her eyes¡­ a shadow that didn¡¯t belong.

    My heart pounded as I stared at her, feeling the air grow heavier. The moment she touched me, I knew. This wasn¡¯t just teenage rebellion or misplaced loyalty. Sam was right. Patrick was right. Something had changed her. Something tainted had wormed its way into her soul.

    Autumn struggled to rise, her eyes darting toward Patrick like he was her lifeline. Patrick, for his part, looked pale and terrified, as though he were realizing the full extent of what he had unleashed. "Autumn, stop," he pleaded. "This isn¡¯t you."

    Before she could lunge again, Jane moved with dangerous speed. She wrapped her arms around Autumn, pinning her arms in place. One arm locked around her torso, and the other cradled her head, keeping her from thrashing too violently. Autumn kicked and flailed, her feet aiming for Jane¡¯s knees, but Jane was immovable, her voice calm and steady as she whispered into Autumn¡¯s ear.

    "Shhh¡­ calm down," Jane murmured. "Think. Listen to me. This isn¡¯t you, Autumn. This rage isn¡¯t yours. Let it go." Her voice was a low, soothing hum, but her grip didn¡¯t waver. "Calm. Breathe. Come back to us."

    Autumn¡¯s movements slowed, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Her muscles trembled under Jane¡¯s hold, but the fight in her eyes didn¡¯t die¡­ it merely smoldered beneath the surface.

    I turned back to Patrick, my voice a cold blade. "What happened the night you used it? What did you do?" I asked, only to get him to say it aloud. We wanted¡­ needed Autumn to hear the story.

    Patrick¡¯s hands trembled as he wiped his face, his breath hitching. "I drove over here. I¡­ I had the brush with me. I just wanted to talk to her, to explain everything about Peter and what happened to Dad. On the way, I saw Sam." He swallowed hard, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He was walking through the woods. I don¡¯t think he saw me, just another car passing by. But I knew he was heading here."

    Patrick hesitated, his gaze darting toward Autumn as if seeking her permission to continue. She stared back with an almost predatory intensity.

    "I parked down the road and waited," Patrick continued. "I didn¡¯t want to face him. After a while, I saw him leave, heading back into the trees. That¡¯s when I came inside."

    Sarah, Patrick¡¯s mother, sobbed quietly in the corner, her face pale and tear-streaked. Her voice broke the silence. "What did you do, Patrick?" she asked, her tone trembling with both fear and desperation. "Look at what you¡¯ve done to this girl?"

    Patrick¡¯s voice cracked as he answered. "I didn¡¯t do anything, Mom. I swear. I knocked on the door, and Autumn let me in. I showed her the brush, and we talked. I told her how much I missed her¡­ how much I wanted us to be together again." His voice wavered, guilt pouring out with every word.

    He looked down at his hands, his fingers curling as though he could still feel the brush¡¯s sinister weight. "She grabbed it while I was holding it. And¡­ it was like something clicked. I felt it, this¡­ pull. Like we were connected on some deeper level. And she felt it too. She said she did." He choked on his next words, tears streaming down his face. "After that, it was like she loved me again. Like we were back in those perfect days. I thought it was a gift. I thought Peter was helping us¡­ me."

    "Anything Peter touches, he destroys," Shelta¡¯s voice cut through the room like a knife. Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable sharp and deliberate. "You know that, Patrick. You watched him destroy your father." Shelta¡¯s eyes bore into Patrick, her tone laced with a dark certainty. "He never meant to help you. He only meant to take."

    A cold silence fell over the room. The weight of Shelta¡¯s words was undeniable, the truth sinking in with a suffocating finality. Patrick¡¯s face crumpled as he broke down, his sobs echoing through the tense, oppressive air.

    Patrick lowered his head, his shoulders trembling as tears streamed down his face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t know what it would do to her. If I had known that she¡¯d be like this¡­ I would have never brought that thing near her.¡± He looked at the brush with disgust.

    His voice cracked under the weight of shame, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Not for me. My fists clenched at my sides, every muscle screaming for action. ¡°You should¡¯ve never kept it,¡± I snarled, stepping closer, my voice low and venomous. ¡°You should¡¯ve come to me. We could¡¯ve destroyed it¡­ we would¡¯ve, before it had the chance to ruin her.¡± My words burned through the air, a searing condemnation. Patrick sank further into the couch, burying his face in his hands, too broken to respond. He knew he¡¯d screwed up, knew he¡¯d unleashed something that had no place in our family. But it wasn¡¯t enough. Not nearly enough.

    The room was suffocating with tension, my mind racing with dark, violent thoughts. I wanted to rip him apart, to make him feel a fraction of the pain his foolishness had caused. And worse, I couldn¡¯t ignore the horrifying implications of what they¡¯d done¡­ what he¡¯d done with my daughter under the influence of that cursed brush. My stomach churned, rage boiling hotter with every second. If I let my thoughts linger on it for too long, I¡¯d lose control completely. My hand hovered near the blade at my belt, the urge to act almost overwhelming.

    I felt Eleanor¡¯s frantic hand on mine, calming the boiling rage that tried to take me in the chaotic moment.

    Then, Autumn¡¯s voice broke through the storm. Her words dripped with venom, laced with disbelief and fury.

    ¡°No! No, no, no! That¡¯s not true!¡± she screamed, her voice raw and frenzied. ¡°Stop saying that, Patrick! They¡¯re lying to you¡­ they¡¯re all lying!¡± Her eyes were wild, her face twisted in rage and desperation. ¡°They¡¯re trying to tear us apart, trying to put me with that monster! I don¡¯t want him! I don¡¯t want to be with some freak who isn¡¯t even alive! You hear me?!¡± Her voice cracked, and then it was a guttural roar. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to them, Patrick! Don¡¯t agree to a fucking thing!¡±

    Autumn¡¯s thrashing intensified, her body writhing in Jane¡¯s iron grip. But the more Jane tightened her hold, the more frantic Autumn became, her screams rising into an almost animalistic wail. Her face was red with fury, veins bulging at her temples, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

    Eleanor stepped back¡­ not seeing our daughter in that moment¡­ but a tormented monster. We all saw it. Her eyes were vacant¡­ she wasn¡¯t there. It was something else¡­ and it wanted free.

    I glanced at Patrick, who was paralyzed, his face pale, his hands shaking. His eyes flicked from me to Autumn, filled with terror at what she had become.

    ¡°Autumn, stop!¡± I shouted, stepping forward¡­ but it was too late.

    Her head snapped toward me, her face twisted with rage. Jane grunted, struggling to keep control, but Autumn¡¯s thrashing reached a fever pitch. In a flash, her head darted down, her teeth sinking into Jane¡¯s hand with a sickening crunch. Jane¡¯s eyes widened in shock as blood trickled from the deep bite, but the pain barely fazed her. She held firm, her grip wavering for only a second despite the savage attack. One of Autumn¡¯s arms slipped free.

    But Autumn wasn¡¯t done. She twisted violently, a free arm flailing with a sudden surge of strength. Her elbow drove back into Jane¡¯s temple with a brutal crack. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and vicious. Jane staggered, momentarily dazed, and in that instant, Autumn broke free.

    All hell broke loose.

    Autumn let out a primal scream, her eyes blazing with fury as she lunged at Patrick. He yelped, scrambling backward, his face a mask of terror. She didn¡¯t care¡­ didn¡¯t care about the blood on her lips, didn¡¯t care about anything except getting to him. Jane shook her head, trying to regain focus, but the blow had stunned her just enough to leave her vulnerable.

    ¡°Autumn, stop!¡± Eleanor shouted, but her voice barely registered. My daughter was lost in a frenzy, a maelstrom of rage and heartbreak.

    I moved to intercept her, but she was faster, her movements erratic and wild. She shoved past me with a force that nearly knocked me off my feet, her strength fueled by desperation. Patrick¡¯s back hit the wall, his eyes wide with fear as Autumn closed in on him, her hands reaching out¡­ not for comfort, but to pull him closer into whatever twisted reality they now shared. I saw her brandish her dagger, the silver blade always at her waist. He was going to kill him¡­ and herself in the process. This wasn¡¯t my daughter. This was something else. Something darker.