The night air reeked of rain and rusted metal. Somewhere in the maze of crumbling buildings, the sound of a cat yowled and then went disturbingly silent. Kaito Arashi pulled his hood tighter over his head as he stepped into a narrow alley. The streetlights behind him flickered once—then failed, plunging the alley into near-total darkness.
Kaito liked the dark. Or at least, he thought he did. It was quieter, easier to disappear when the world couldn't see you. But tonight, something felt off.
A chill slithered along the back of his neck, curling beneath his skin like cold fingers. He had always ignored that feeling—a paranoid itch that crept in during the loneliest nights—but tonight, it was impossible to shake. It wasn't just paranoia. Something was watching him.
He stopped walking. His breath turned shallow as his eyes adjusted to the shadows crowding the alley walls. It was only then that he saw it.
At first, it looked like nothing—just a trick of the light, a vague shape pressed against the far wall. But then it moved.
Something impossibly thin and long uncurled from the shadows—a limb, if you could call it that. Black as ink, slick as tar. The sound that followed was worse: a wet scraping, as if claws were dragging over concrete, slow and deliberate.
Kaito's heart jumped into his throat.
The thing slithered forward. A distorted silhouette with limbs too long and a head that split open in jagged angles, filled with too many teeth. Eyes—black holes that sucked in the light—focused on Kaito with predatory delight.
He wanted to run, but his legs locked in place. His heart pounded against his ribs, telling him to flee, but something deeper—a strange, horrible fascination—kept him rooted. He couldn't move.
Then it spoke.
"Your fear... smells sweet."
The voice wasn't a voice at all, more like a thought scraping against the inside of Kaito's skull, twisting his mind with cold, oily fingers.
The thing lunged.
Kaito stumbled back, barely avoiding the swipe of an inky claw. Panic surged through him as his back hit the alley wall. The creature laughed—a low, gurgling noise that sounded more like a death rattle than anything human.
This was it. He was going to die here, alone in the dark.
But then, something strange happened.
A flicker of heat ignited deep in his chest, spreading like wildfire through his limbs. His fear didn't vanish—it twisted, sharpened, transformed into something hotter. Anger. Defiance. A refusal to die like this.
"No," Kaito whispered, his breath fogging in the cold air. His lips curled into a grin he didn't fully understand. "Not today."
The creature lunged again, but this time, Kaito didn't move to dodge. The heat inside him roared, and before he knew it, his hand shot forward.
A pulse of blue light exploded from his palm. It wasn't much—just a flicker, a brief burst of raw energy—but it was enough. The creature shrieked as the light burned through its blackened flesh, sending it writhing backward into the shadows.
Kaito collapsed to one knee, gasping for air, his hand still tingling from whatever just happened. The alley was silent again, save for the distant hum of the city beyond.
For a moment, he thought it was over.
Then a voice—smooth, calm, and cold—drifted from the darkness.
"Well, well. You're an interesting one."
Kaito looked up, chest heaving. A man stepped out from the shadows, his pale face glowing faintly under the dim streetlight. His eyes—glowing red like embers—bore into Kaito's, and a thin smile curled across his lips.
"Welcome to the game," the stranger said.
Kaito's hands clenched into fists, the lingering heat in his chest rekindling at the stranger's presence. He didn't know who this man was, but every instinct in him screamed danger.
And yet, beneath the fear, something inside Kaito buzzed with excitement.
"Game, huh?" Kaito grinned, wiping the blood from his lip. "Bring it on."