Hurried, small steps echoed through the house as the tiny feet straggled to reach the bed first.

“I’m in, I’m in, now tell me the story, you promised!” The young man yelled loudly, urging his grandmother to start the story even before she entered the room.

She laughed slightly, smiling at her grandson that was similar to cute bonny with little ears. She pulled her old body down and set at the chair beside the warm bed, pulling his cover up to his chin.

“You sure, what if you got scared like last time” she asked, keeping her warm smile.

Little embarrassed he quickly denied the accusation. He set up hurriedly, hitting his chest like an honored warrior taking his oath “I am a man grandma, men’s never get scared”.

Her smile widened further, showing the proudness of her little ancestor. “Is that so?” questioning him and challenging his bold words. Eye to eye he challenged back “of course my family’s men never to be scared”

The old women laughed so hard by his words that can never be said by a ten years old boy. Wondering playfully where did he learn to speak like that or was it his father’s genes finally showing off, nevertheless, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse him.

“Alright, where do you want me to start” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

The little man couldn’t stop himself from squeezing back inside his warm blankets and announcing “from the start”

She smiled again, taking a deep breath and exhaling “Monsters live within the shadows” she started but this time her smile was worry, not hiding her fear “when monsters appears, we were taught to run….”

Her story just began, as she replayed a worn out words that were told over and over again. They were bed time stories, gone down for generation teaching their youngest the rules of surviving: never to cross those within the shadows, and to survive no matter what.

Her words went along dancing with the sparks of fire inside that old house. Twisting with her voice that got mixed by the droplet of rain that hit the washed down windows. It went forward, alongside the ragging storm outside. The woman and the boy safe inside their world enjoying the legends of hundreds of years, while the wind howled with rage. Sky cracking as thunder rumbled in the haze.

Silence was the only tangible thing, as no one dared to take his chances out. Nature was obviously angry, furious without a clear reason. Spreading this ominous feeling of fear as cold sneaked into the homes and hearts of people.

……..

Following that gust of wind through these hard rough streets or through those muddy flooding roads. The waves of this unspeakable feelings flew chasing that never ending pavement leading to somewhere surrounded by an endless cold.

In another place, both new and old, two feet touched the hard flooring wood sitting down into the mattress of king side bed. The room was breathtaking, luxuries dived in gold. Even though the night was pitch dark, the large windows that went from floor to ceiling allowed the renegade moonlight to skip through the arc. Forecasting a cleansing halo into the creature within.

The man set there for a while holding his head with both hands, as his fingers went through his hair in a playful moves. He was confused as his eyes closed and opened looking for answers. As always the dreams have arrived.

His hand reached out onto the night stand getting that bottle of wine, no need for a cup. His throat begged desperately for that burning sensation to go through his mouth and soul as soon as possible.

He wanted something to numb him out. Anything to knock his whirlwind of mind and hold the shouts. Nothing worked for him to hold this scary dreams from appearing. As usual by sixteenth of each month he will be driven into the edge of sanity.

It has been a year now, over and over the same dreams and the same images manifested in his mind making him irrational. That outline of a women, that blond hair that swept his mind redundant. She was just there doing nothing sitting under a tree with her face blurred due to sunlight. However this was the main reason behind his anger and frustrations. After every dream he will spend days recuperating because he was unable to see her. He will be livid at himself that he couldn’t touch her or reach her.

He was angry, angry at himself for wanting her and angry at this occurrence that couldn’t be stopped or explained. But what drove him crazier was that deep down he waited for them. He counted the days and hours to see her, even if it was from far, it was simply enough. This made him powerless, helpless and inadequate, something he never felt before. Even though he was at the top of the hierarchy he still wasn’t able to save himself.

Dragging his defeated body to the windows, still holding the bottle of wine between his tensed fingers. He stood there breathing the smell of rain calming his racing heart bit by bit. The reports couldn’t identify her identity. She was like a ghost, but if she wasn’t there why would he keep seeing her? This question was the only thing that assured him that soon he will catch her.

It was okay, soon she will be caught. Trapped between his claws. It was like a hunting game for him, being the hunter and trapping his prey, something that he mastered the most. Clenching and unclasping his fist, his eyes opened but this time shining gold looking at the covered moon who tried to break the chains of the clouds. Smirking devilishly, challenging the heaven and earth in front of him.

He was obsessed, and he won’t stop until he got what he wants.

A nock at the door, broke his chain of thoughts. He didn’t look behind, he just whispered “come in”.

A young man into his mid-twenties entered wearing a soldier uniform, he entered respectfully bowing down to his alpha.

“Sir, it has been found!” A simple sentence that got the eyes of a hunter excited, starting a fire inside his burning eyes that kept sparkling through that dark room.

“Be ready we will leave by the dawn” he commanded

“As you wish my lord”

He smirked further, enjoying the taste of the red wine flooding his thirsty throat. Gracefully he stood facing the dark in front of him that in some way it resembled his inner darkness. A side of his word that barely saw light. A universe that only knew the taste of blood and the ripping of skin

“Let the hunt begin”