The air was thick with the stench of blood and rot.
I stood on the edge of the warehouse district, sword in hand, eyes locked on the shadows that danced between flickering streetlights. The city hadn't even woken up yet, but the night had already bled chaos. It always did when they came out.
"They said it was one," Mira's voice crackled through the comm in my ear. "One Class B beast. Looks like someone's lying again."
"Figures," I muttered, tightening my grip on the black hilt of my sword.
"Three heat signatures. One's moving fast, circling. Other two are close. Be careful, Asen."
"I always am."
A low growl echoed from the alley ahead, deep and guttural. My breath fogged in the cold air, my heart steady, not from courage—but repetition. I was used to this now. Used to things normal people shouldn't see. Used to being hunted in the shadows of my own damn city.
A blur lunged from the side—a flash of matted fur and glowing yellow eyes.
I pivoted, blade swinging. The edge caught its shoulder, but the beast was fast, faster than it looked. It screeched, twisting mid-air, claws raking across the concrete where my head had just been. Sparks danced as metal scraped metal—my blade met its talon in a burst of fury.
"First one's down here," I said, backing into a wide stance as the creature snarled, injured but alive.
The thing wasn't just a beast. It had a half-human frame, but its face was stretched and wrong, its limbs too long, too sharp. It wore remnants of clothing, like it used to be something else. Someone else.
"I think it was human once," I muttered.
"You think they're all human once," Mira said, sighing on the other end. "Headshot or decap. Don't hesitate."
Another one burst through a broken door to the left. This one was bulkier, mouth splitting open in rows of jagged teeth. I turned, leaped back just as it lunged—and the first one charged again.
They were working together.
Damn it.
I ducked the second's swing, rolled across the gravel, and came up behind the first. My blade sliced clean through its neck. Black blood sprayed the wall as its body collapsed. I didn't even get time to breathe.
The bigger one roared.
I ran straight toward it.
Momentum was everything. If I hesitated, I'd die. If I flinched, I'd get torn apart. I threw my shoulder into its gut, driving the creature back. It staggered, off balance. I drove my blade into its thigh—then yanked out.
"Behind you!" Mira shouted.
Too late.
A third one tackled me from the side. We slammed into a pile of trash cans. My sword slid from my hand, skidding across the pavement. Claws tore into my coat, teeth snapping near my ear.
I grabbed the thing's throat, shoving back hard.
Its breath stank of death. Its eyes—glassy and wrong—reflected something… hollow.
"You're not human," I growled.
I slammed its head into the wall. Once. Twice. Bone cracked. It fell limp, and I shoved it off, panting.
I crawled toward my sword, blood dripping down my arm. The big one was coming again—limping, but faster than any wounded thing should've been.
"You still got eyes on it?" I asked, gripping my sword's handle.
"Yeah. Two more are closing in from the east."
"Tell me you're joking."
"I wish. I'll try to cut the signal and reroute reinforcements, but you're on your own for now."
"Of course I am."
The second beast charged. I stepped into its path, ducked under its swing, and drove my sword upward. The blade pierced under its chin, straight through the skull.
Its body jerked, then went still.
I let it fall.
Then I turned—and saw the fourth one crawling out of a storm drain. Gaunt. Starving. But its eyes gleamed with rage.
This city was full of them now. These monsters. Creatures twisted by magic, rituals, or just the decay of forgotten gods. The more I fought them, the more I realized they weren't just beasts. They were signs.
Signs of something bigger.
The fourth one shrieked. Its scream shattered glass nearby. I flinched, ears ringing.
It charged.
I planted my feet.
Steel met flesh.
It lunged straight into my blade. I held steady, teeth clenched as it thrashed, tried to claw my face off even while dying. Finally, it collapsed. Dead weight.
I shoved it off and leaned against a wall, catching my breath.
Blood soaked the sidewalk. Mine. Theirs. Hard to tell the difference anymore.
Mira's voice finally came through again. "You okay?"
"Still alive."
"You need to fall back. You're bleeding."
"I'll live."
"Did you get all four?"
I looked at the mess around me. Mangled bodies. Smoking blood trails. Torn claws and snapped bones.
"Yeah. They're not getting up."
There was a pause.
"I'll send cleanup. You need anything?"
"Peace and quiet," I muttered. "But I'll settle for a shower."
I picked up my sword, wiped it clean on one of the creature's shirts, and slid it back into its sheath.
Then I felt it.
The shift.
Like cold fingers grazing the back of my neck.
A whisper not from my comm—but from somewhere else.
Asen…
My blood froze.
No one said my name like that. No one alive.
I turned, eyes scanning the shadows.
But nothing was there.
Only the wind.
Half an hour later, back at HQ
The elevator doors opened and I walked into the unit floor, still smelling like hell. Mira was at her desk, tapping away on the keyboard. She looked up, brow furrowed.
"Why are you still standing?"
"I'm not that hurt."
"You were clawed across the back and tossed like a rag doll."
"I've had worse."
She rolled her eyes, tossed me a med patch. I caught it, peeled it, and slapped it on my shoulder with a wince.
Behind me, Reyes and Toma were arguing about the latest supernatural activity report.
"They're getting smarter," Reyes muttered. "Coordinated attacks? That's not instinct. That's strategy."
"Or someone's guiding them," Toma replied.
I sat down and stared at the coffee machine, wishing it worked.
Then Mira's voice cut through the static silence of our mess.
"Asen."
"What?"
"There's a new file."
She turned the monitor toward me. I stood and approached.
On the screen was grainy surveillance footage—taken twenty minutes ago. It showed the area I'd just cleared. A figure moved through the scene, untouched by any of the blood or bodies.
Tall. Hooded.
He stood over the corpse of the first beast.
Then he turned toward the camera.
And smiled.
The screen went black.
My hands clenched at my sides.
That whisper earlier… it wasn't my imagination.
"He saw me," I said.
"Who is he?" Mira asked.
"I don't know."