Life is a constant struggle. Against hunger in the morning, against sleepiness in the afternoon. And then, somewhere in between, against the man-eating monsters.
There was frantic knocking on the door. At first, I groaned and pressed my pillow harder against my ear, hoping it would stop, but when I realized my uninvited guest wasn't going anywhere, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed and shuffled to the door.
I opened it to find Des, looking like a bundle of nerves, practically vibrating with anxiety. Before I could even say anything, he launched himself at me, squeezing me tightly enough to make me gasp for air.
"I was so worried, little brother!"
I snorted, partly annoyed, partly amused, as he messed up my already-tangled hair before finally releasing me.
"I'm not weak enough to get killed by a few vampires," I muttered, stepping back to let him in. Clearly, he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.
I headed to the kitchen, making myself a cup of cocoa. I could hear Alex stirring in the other room, but I knew he wasn't about to come out while Des was still here.
"What do you want?" I asked, my tone still grumpy from the abrupt wake-up.
What was he thinking? Did he not care when I'd finally fallen asleep?
"You saved Geri," Des blurted.
I nodded, not looking up from stirring my cocoa.
"If that's all you wanted, you can leave now," I said, finally sitting down at the table.
Of course, I had no hope that my annoying brother would leave that easily.
"As a matter of fact," he plopped down across from me, "my men won."
"Yay," I deadpanned, rolling my eyes.
"They were clearly outnumbered, yet somehow, they managed to escape death," Des continued, eyes narrowing slightly. "I suppose you don't know anything about that?"
"Nope," I replied, sipping my cocoa nonchalantly.
"My people said the vampires froze at the most critical moments, or their movements slowed down, like they suddenly forgot how to fight," he pressed, his tone accusing. "You got any explanation for that?"
I shrugged, clearly bored. "Nope."
Des studied me for a long moment, suspicion etched on his face. "I know you're involved somehow."
I grinned, my smile full of mischief. "I really didn't do anything. Besides, I was busy trying to bring Geri back to life around that time."
Des sighed deeply, clearly not buying it. "Right."
"As for Geri," he added, voice softer now, "the medics gave him some potions. He's pretty much recovered."
"Uh-huh," I muttered, barely paying attention as I took another sip of cocoa.
Des grew serious, his expression shifting from worry to something more sincere. He leaned forward, eyes focused on me with an intensity that made me pause mid-sip.
"Look, I know you don't exactly like Geri," he began, his voice steady. "So I wanted to thank you.
My eyes found his for a moment. I knew they were close. Geri was his vice-captain after all.
"No need for that," I shrugged. "I didn't save him because of you."
Des stood up, glancing at the door, but before he left, he gave me one last look, his tone lighter this time.
"You really grew up, didn't you?" he said. "I honestly didn't think I'd ever see the day you'd forgive the hunters."
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "I haven't forgiven them. I never will."
I knew that if it ever came to it—if I ever wanted to go to war against the hunters, if I ever wanted to destroy them, to wipe them from existence—I would inevitably have to fight my brother.
I had no illusions about the hunters. They were necessary, in their own way, even if their methods were broken, twisted.
There had to be something—some force in place to keep the balance, to maintain order when the monsters, the creatures like me, started to tip the scales.
But the way the hunters operated? That was where the problem lay.
Des seemed to hesitate. But I saw the curiosity in his eyes, the quiet question hanging in the air.
"But..." I added, my voice a little more steady now, "I see that not all hunters are trash."
The words felt strange coming out of my mouth, like they didn't quite fit me, but there was truth in them.
As I sat there, the thoughts drifted through my mind like a series of half-formed images. Des—my brother, who had always loved me in his own way, even when it didn't make sense. I couldn't ignore the truth of it: he loved me, in his own stubborn, complicated way. He always had.
Then there was my mother—cold, distant, and full of hate for me. Or so I had thought. Until the very end, when she'd sacrificed herself to keep me from the hunters, to make sure I had a chance to escape. She had always seen me as a burden, something she had to deal with, something that wasn't part of the life she had wanted. But when it mattered, when the hunters were closing in, she had given everything. She had given her life, her breath, so that I could run, so that I could live.
I couldn't forget that. Even after everything she'd put me through, she had loved me, in a way only a mother could, even if it was through the lens of her own fears and hatred.
And Geri...
I thought about him then, the way he had whispered comforting words to me. How he had cleaned my wounds with such care, the ones too deep to heal quickly. His touch was always so light, so tender, and in that moment of pain, it had been the only thing that made me feel like I wasn't alone. He never hesitated, never flinched, even when the blood had been too much, the gashes too deep.
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of all those memories pressing down on me. Not all humans were trash. Not all of them.
Des stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a grunt, he gave a small nod. "This is what growing up means," he had said.
And with that, he left, the door clicking softly behind him. I remained at the table, my fingers curling around the now-cold mug of cocoa.
Bloodsuckers were attacking humans with alarming regularity now. Villages once far from the threat of the cities had become targets for these deadly creatures. The news had never reported so many brutal murders, nor had there ever been such a string of unnatural, catastrophic events. It was as if the world itself was falling apart.
Naturally, the Crosspherat had to spin this into something palatable for the masses. Fires raged through towns, buildings crumbled under the weight of poor foundations, and strange, violent storms ravaged other parts of the country with an intensity never before seen.
And the humans believed it. How could they not? They had no reason to question the narrative they were fed. They needed an explanation for the chaos around them, and they got one. When the world seems to unravel, you'll grasp onto anything—anything at all—just to make sense of it. That's the way it goes with humans. They'd swallow whatever lie was fed to them, if only it gave them some semblance of control over their reality.
I turned off the gas, the faint smell of dinner still lingering in the air, and moved quickly. Within minutes, I was dressed in black jeans and a blue shirt, deodorant sprayed on for that perfect finish. As I grabbed my things and headed for the door, I called out to Alex.
"I'm heading out. I'll be back at night."
I arrived at the pub by six, just in time to catch Hajnal's daily tirade. She wasted no time launching into her usual complaints: berating the pig-headed customers, ranting about her idiot neighbors, calling out the corrupt politicians, and, of course, making sure to condemn humanity in general—sometimes all at once.
I couldn't help but thank God when a customer finally approached me, giving me an excuse to escape the madness of her monologues. Saturdays were always busy, and the crowd slowly trickled in, filling the pub with that familiar buzz. Hajnal, never one to shy away from an audience, joined the fray, launching into one of her endless rants.
I tuned out as best as I could, though my mind was elsewhere, preoccupied with a growing sense of unease. An inexplicable, sinister premonition was gnawing at the edges of my consciousness, and the monster inside me stirred restlessly, as if it, too, could sense something was coming.
"Hello," a familiar voice broke through my thoughts.
I turned, surprised to find Rolo perched on one of the bar stools. I had no idea how he'd slipped in unnoticed, but then again, with Rolo, anything was possible.
"Hello," Hajnal greeted him, patting his head with the kind of affection she reserved for her beloved cats.
As if on cue, she launched into yet another lecture about her precious Marcika, Niko, and Mizo—her ever-present subjects of fascination.
"Good evening, Madam," Rolo responded politely, seemingly unfazed by her antics.
"Shay, make him a cocoa," Hajnal commanded without hesitation, already expecting my compliance. Before I could protest, she shot me a sharp look. "On the house."
"Yes, of course," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
With a dramatic sigh, I grabbed my favorite mug and made my way to the kitchen. How dare this kid steal my cocoa? I couldn't just let this go unpunished—this would not stand.
When I returned, Geri was sitting next to the annoying kid—but this time, I actually felt a rare sense of relief seeing him. I placed the cocoa in front of Rolo, but my full attention quickly shifted to the hunter.
"Hm," I hummed, eyeing him critically. "They patched you up rather quickly."
Geri pursed his lips, clearly annoyed.
"I can still taste that disgusting slop in my mouth," he grumbled. "Give me the drink!"
I didn't respond right away, instead pouring him a glass of whisky and sliding it toward him.
"I have a few questions," I said, my voice steady.
Geri's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Somehow, I had a feeling you'd say that."
Meanwhile, Rolo took a tentative sip of his cocoa, and his face immediately scrunched up. Before he could spit it out, he growled, "Hey! What have you put in this?"
"Love," I flashed him a charming smile, then turned my focus back to Geri, ignoring Rolo's curses under his breath. I wasn't concerned with his complaints at the moment.
"I heard the Crosspherat has dissolved the meeting," I said, my tone serious. "What are they planning?"
Geri scratched his stubbled chin, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back in his chair. "No one knows for sure."
I pressed, impatience creeping into my voice. "Then tell me what you do know. Des was taken off the case and sent away to keep him from investigating. What are they planning?"
Geri took a deliberate sip of whisky, and I could tell immediately that the news was not going to be pleasant.
"The judges have decided to try to make a peace deal with the Fifth," he finally said, his voice heavy. "That's why they've been meeting so often—discussing this issue."
"They can't!" I slammed my palm onto the counter, my anger flaring before I could even think about it. I didn't notice how Rolo flinched or how Geri shifted uncomfortably in his chair. My focus was entirely on the news. Peace with the Fifth?
Hajnal raised an eyebrow, then threatened that if I didn't keep my voice down, she'd have to dispose of my most noble body part. To emphasize her point, she flung a filthy rag in my face and ordered me to wipe down the counter if I was good for nothing else.
"It's suicide, Geri!" I said, lowering my voice as I wiped furiously, making sure the counter was spotless. I didn't need her finding something to criticize, because she always did, even when I did things perfectly.
"If he's allowed into the Crosspherat's headquarters, he'll kill everyone," I continued, my frustration bubbling up again.
"I know," Geri nodded grimly. "But the judges are scared, and they're using every ounce of influence to avoid war."
"They're not avoiding it—they're starting it," I shot back, feeling the weight of my words.
"What makes you think he won't accept peace?" Geri asked, leaning back a little as he considered my reaction. "It's possible they'll offer him something he can't refuse..."
"Tell me, Geri," I pressed, locking eyes with him, "do you honestly believe that?"
The hunter's smile was bitter, the weight of experience behind it. "One way or another, war will break out."
"What war?" Rolo asked, his young voice cutting through the tension.
Geri's emerald eyes scanned my face, looking for an answer that wasn't coming. But I stayed silent, focused on my work.
"War is no topic for children," Geri said with a teasing grin as he ruffled Rolo's unruly black hair.
Rolo shot him an angry glance, immediately trying to fix his messy hair, which always looked as if it had never seen a comb.
"I'm not a child!" Rolo snapped, clearly irritated.
"You're a child, even if you're not human," Geri replied, and I had to bite back a laugh at the sight of Rolo blushing furiously. "You're, what... twelve?"
"I'm fifteen," Rolo growled, his face a shade redder.
Geri raised an eyebrow and responded in a teasing tone, "Oh, well, you're still a child at fifteen."
Then he leaned closer to me and whispered to me, questioning whether Rolo was telling the truth. He refused to believe his ears, and I didn't blame him. Rolo was very short and thin compared to his peers—as if he had been starved for years.
My phone rang. I pulled it out—Hajnal didn't tolerate more of my shenanigans on during working hours, but... Alice's name flashed across the screen. I decided it was time to remind him that some of us had actual work to do and he should only text me so that I can remain inconspicuous.
No hi, no hello, nothing.
"Go home now!" Alice shouted into the phone, his voice sharp and frantic.
"What?" I asked, holding the phone away from my ear, wincing at the screech of his yelling.
"Don't question me, damn it! Hurry home!" His desperation bled through the anger in his voice, and I could hear his nerves fraying. "The vampires are attacking!"
Without bothering to hang up, I tossed the phone onto the counter and bolted from the pub like I was being chased by the hounds of hell. A car zoomed by just as I hit the road.
The headlights flashed across me, and I briefly met the driver's wide-eyed gaze. The next thing I knew, I was already on the other side of the street, my feet a blur, the sound of screeching tires fading into the background. The driver, no doubt, was wondering how someone could move that fast.
Everything was unnervingly calm. The street seemed completely ordinary, no sign of anything amiss. But as I turned the corner, the scent of fresh blood hit me like a slap to the face. Something splattered onto my skin, and slowly, very slowly, I lifted my gaze.
A corpse hung out of the window, its neck twisted at a grotesque angle, an arm dangling lifelessly from the ledge, blood dripping from its fingertips. The old, grumpy neighbor... his face frozen in a mixture of terror and disbelief, his gray hair now stained red in places.
I wiped the blood off my face and kept moving, numb to the horror around me. The next house had its door ajar, blood already staining the ground in dark pools. The third house was a shattered mess, the windows smashed as if something had forced its way in. The fourth—our attic.
A sickening sense of dread settled in my gut. Please let Alex not be home, or at least let him be alive. My footsteps were steady as I approached the front door. Not surprisingly, it was wide open.
I stepped inside, the air thick with an unnatural silence. As I opened the bedroom door five pairs of red eyes flashed in unison, gleaming with hunger.