The city was its usual chaotic self—Distant sirens wove through the layers of overlapping conversations, and the occasional stray dog picking a fight with thin air.
It was just another morning.
To Mikael Ryu. Until—
"Homework?" He muttered, adjusting his bag over one shoulder.
"Yeah, totally forgot about that..."
He sighed dramatically while moving through the crowd with the grace of someone who had mastered the fine art of dodging responsibilities. School was tiring, sure, but kind of important, too.
Not that he was the best at keeping track of deadlines.
The city's chaos faded behind him, swallowed by the winding road cutting through dull, grey buildings. Bit by bit, honking cars turned to rustling leaves, concrete to dirt, and voices to silence.
A place to clear his head, get some work done, and just exist without the background noise of life nagging at him.
"A perfect place to relax and do my stuff."
Or so he thought.
Eventually, he found his spot. A large, flat rock sat under the shade of an old tree, just high enough to give a clear view of the city below to look over.
Mikael plopped down with a satisfied sigh and stretched his legs out.
"Ahh, nature," he said.
Pulling out his notebook and flipping it open.
"Alright, time to actually study before getting distracted—"
He immediately got distracted.
The sky was blue, the wind was crisp, and the soft rustling of the trees was oddly soothing.
It was peaceful. Too peaceful.
The wind had stopped. The trees stood frozen. Not a single bird chirped.
Mikael tensed up, gripping the edge of his notebook.
Why does it feel like I'm being watched?
As he glanced over his shoulder.
Nothing.
Then, just as he was about to shake it off—There.
Then—he saw him.
A figure stood down the hill.
Twitchy. Erratic. Shoulders jerking with every breath.
He lifted his head and sniffed at the air. Like a dog catching a scent.
Mikael blinked. Homeless? Drunk? Something about the man didn't sit right.
"Okay... weird."
His eyes shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his bag.
"Yeah, screw this. School suddenly sounds like a five-star vacation."
Then, the man's head snapped toward him.
Their eyes met.
And he charged.
Mikael could barely react before the man charged and crashed into him, knocking them both to the ground.
"What the—?!"
Snarling, clawed hands swung at his face. Mikael twisted, barely dodging. He shoved back, but the guy was strong. Too strong.
His breath was hot, ragged and his pupils dilated like a rabid dog.
Mikael blocked another wild strike, teeth gritted. The guy was breathing heavy, almost panting. The heat of it hit Mikael's face. Gross.
And then—
He saw them.
Wait.
His brain lagged for half a second. Something about the man's mouth—
Fangs.
Mikael's stomach dropped.
"...The fuck?"
A fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the air out of him.
His back hit the dirt hard.
The man loomed over him, pinning him down, clawed fingers digging into his arms.
Am I gonna die?
No.
Something inside him screamed.
Fight.
A raw, primal instinct took over Mikael. His hands shot up, grabbing the man's face, shoving, scratching, biting—anything to just break free from him. He thrashed, his body moving on its own.
Blood—his blood—spilled onto the dirt. His vision blurred.
But he kept going.
With a desperate scream, Mikael twisted, shoving an arm between them, barely blocking a swipe of jagged nails. The man's fingers clawed at his skin, his strength unnatural.
He flailed, jerking violently, Mikael brought his knee up into the man's ribs.
The man staggered. That was all Mikael needed. He threw a wild punch, then another—then grabbed a rock and slammed it against the side of his attacker's head.
Mikael gritted his teeth. This guy isn't normal.
His body reacted even before his mind could catch up.
He drove his elbow into the man's ribs, shoving him back just enough to get a knee between them. Kicking with all his strength, he sent the man tumbling off him.
Mikael scrambled up, chest heaving. The man twitched on the ground, his body jerking like a puppet with its strings cut.
Then—suddenly he roared like a beast, lunging forward again.
Not happening.
Mikael ducked down, dodging a wild swing from the man and his fist shot out cracking a direct hit against the man's jaw.
It should've knocked him down for sure. It didn't.
The man barely even flinched. Instead his lips pulled back and curled up in a twisted grin revealing teeth far too sharp for any human.
Mikael's stomach turned.
The man lunged again, faster this time.
Mikael barely had any time to block before they crashed down again rolling through the dirt. A set of claws raked across Mikael's shoulder, hot pain blooming in their wake.
"Shit—"
Instinct screamed at him. Survive. Fight.
Mikael did the only thing that came to mind.
He bit him.
Hard.
The moment his teeth sank in, fire erupted across his tongue.
It wasn't just blood—it was something else. Acidic. Sharp. Cold and burning all at once. His body recoiled, stomach twisting, vision swimming. The taste clung to him, refusing to fade. It was sharp, metallic, but there was something else. Something acrid.
It burned, like swallowing fire and ice at the same time. Is that even possible?
The man shrieked a high unnatural sound that could send a cold bolt of fear through anyone's spine.
It was wrong. Not human.
The moment the man recoiled, Mikael shoved him off, breathing hard.
The guy stumbled, his body twitching, spasming—like something inside him was coming apart.
And then, he stopped moving.
For a long moment, Mikael didn't move either. Or more like he couldn't
His pulse pounded in his ears, his breath ragged.
He wiped the blood of his mouth with the back of his hand.
His arms trembled as he tried to push himself up which was useless.
No strength left.
His breath came in ragged gasps and blood dripping down from his fingertips. His vision swam.
Did I… win?
His body didn't wait for an answer.
His consciousness swallowed by darkness as his body collapsed to the ground.
And When he woke up, the sky was tinted with the shade of deep orange.
Evening.
Several hours have passed.
His body ached. His head pounded. He groaned, pushing himself up. The ground beneath him was wet.
Blood.Just blood.
But the man—he was gone.
No body. Just a dark, sticky pool of crimson soaking into the earth.
Mikael's heartbeat thundered.
"Oh, cool. So we're just ignoring the laws of reality now?" He muttered, voice shaking. "Great. Love that."
His instincts screamed at him to run.
So he did.
Grabbing all his stuff, he stumbled down the mountain path, every shadow feeling too dark, every whisper of the wind too sinister. He was scared.
By the time he reached the city, the streetlights were flickering on, bathing the empty sidewalks in a dull glow.
Home. He just needed to get home.
As soon as the second he stepped inside, he collapsed onto the floor, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.
His shirt was ruined, stained with dark red dried up blood.
"Gosh how will I explain this to my mum, I even have school tomorrow!"
But… there were no wounds.
Not a single scratch.
And his body felt off. Lighter. Stronger. Different.
"...Okay," he breathed, swallowing hard.
"Either I hit my head really bad, or I'm having a very weird puberty moment."
Shaking his head, he stood up. "Nope. Nope. Just gonna wash up, pretend this didn't happen, and—"
He turned toward the bathroom, stepping in front of the mirror.
And froze.
His reflection stared back at him.
His breath hitched.
The world around him blurred.
His lips parted, but no sound came out.