"Yonathan, Yonathan..."

It was a night of a full moon, in a distant land hidden from all eyes. Two figures were running through a dark, dense forest: a woman and a child. The child, so young and terrified, suddenly tripped over the branch of a withered tree. The woman, panicked, knelt immediately to help him up, her hands trembling with urgency.

They were being hunted.

Behind them, in the shadows, figures moved with an almost supernatural precision. They advanced calmly, efficiently, as if savoring the fear of their prey.

The oppressive atmosphere amplified their presence, even though nothing concrete was visible. But the woman, overwhelmed by piercing intuition, felt their proximity.

"Mom, I… I…"

"I'm so tired!" sobbed the child, his voice broken with exhaustion.

The mother, exhausted herself, no longer had the strength to carry him. She gritted her teeth, pulled on his arm to encourage him to get up, and said:

"Yonathan, just a little more, my love. We're almost there… I promise I'll make your favorite dish after all this, okay?"

"But… I can't go on anymore…"

"Don't you want to make Mommy happy?" she asked, struggling to mask her own despair.

The child weakly nodded, tears rolling down his dirt-covered cheeks.

"Okay, I'll do it."

"Good boy. Don't let go of my hand, no matter what happens."

They started running again, the woman keeping a firm grip on Yonathan's small hand. But in this forest, where only the moonlight filtered through the trees, the silence was unnatural. No bird cries, no rustling of animals—like all life had fled.

The mother suddenly stopped in her tracks. She turned her head back, scanning the darkness with a gaze full of fear. The shifting shadows seemed to draw closer, like a black fog spreading over the ground.

She knelt in front of Yonathan and pulled him close.

"Listen to me carefully, my heart," she said in a low but firm voice. "You have to keep going. No matter what happens, run. Do you see that tree over there, the one with the big branches?"

The child nodded, his eyes wide with terror.

"Climb up and hide there. Don't come down until everything is quiet. Do you understand?"

"But… Mom, what about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll find you. I promise."

She kissed his forehead and gently pushed him toward the tree she had pointed out.

Yonathan, despite his tears and trembling, clumsily climbed onto the lower branches, driven by the urgency in his mother's voice.

As soon as he was out of reach, she straightened up, facing the darkness. Her hands trembled, but she clenched her fists, determined.

"Show yourselves!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the oppressive silence.

A guttural laugh responded. The shadows gathered, thickened, and slowly took on a more defined shape.

Three humanoid figures emerged, their silhouettes illuminated by the pale light of the moon. Their red, piercing eyes glowed like flames in the darkness.

"A bold act of courage, but useless," one of them murmured, his voice rough and mocking.

The woman didn't answer but stood ready, her gaze burning with defiance. She knew she had no chance, but if she could delay them, give her son a few precious minutes… then she was willing to do anything.

The creatures lunged at her without warning. She screamed, striking with everything she had, but their claws sliced through the air, tearing her clothes and flesh. The fight was brief and brutal. Her cries faded into a muffled gurgle.

From the top of the tree, Yonathan watched the scene, paralyzed with horror. He clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming, but his muffled sobs betrayed his anguish.

When his mother's final breath left her, something inside him shattered. An uncontrollable rage awakened, like a devouring fire.

The creatures slowly turned toward the tree, their cruel smiles revealing sharp fangs.

"The boy is up there," one of them murmured.

But before they could approach, a piercing howl echoed through the forest.

Yonathan, still perched on the branch, no longer seemed entirely human. His small fingers had curled into claws. His eyes glowed with a golden, intense light, and his breathing became a deep, guttural growl.

"This… this is impossible," one of the creatures muttered, instinctively stepping back.

The moon seemed to shine brighter, as if responding to the raw energy emanating from the child.

Yonathan leapt from the tree, landing heavily on the ground. His silhouette, still that of a child, began to stretch, twist, and reshape under the force of pure rage.

A primal, savage, inhuman cry erupted from his throat.

The creatures, who had been laughing moments ago, hesitated.

The air around Yonathan vibrated, charged with a power he didn't yet understand but that was enough to inspire fear.

One of the monsters tried to attack him, but Yonathan dodged with feline agility.

With a single swipe of his claws, he tore open his attacker's throat, leaving him to collapse in a bloody gurgle.

The two remaining creatures exchanged a glance, their smirks disappearing. They no longer faced a boy, but a beast.

What followed was carnage. Yonathan, driven by blind rage, charged at the remaining creatures. His body, though still small and fragile, seemed infused with supernatural strength.

Each blow he delivered tore through flesh, each howl he emitted shook the forest.

When silence finally fell, Yonathan was alone. Around him lay the mutilated bodies of his enemies, soaked in pools of dark blood.

The child, covered in that same blood, stood trembling. His claws and fangs began to retract, his appearance slowly returning to that of a human.

But he was no longer the same. Something inside him had changed forever.

He raised his eyes to the sky, where the full moon still shone. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he fell to his knees, clutching his mother's pendant, which he had picked up from the wreckage.

Yonathan was no longer just a boy. That night, a monster was born—a Monster consumed by pain, rage, and a hunger he did not yet understand.

And in the darkness of the forest, a lone wolf howled at the moon.

*

In the dim light of her small apartment, Carla observed the imposing figure of the man through her telescope. She didn't need to zoom in to see him clearly. Even from this distance, John Wall was unforgettable.

He stood on the balcony of his penthouse, towering over the city like a king surveying his kingdom.

The lights of the metropolis sparkled behind him, but they seemed dull compared to the almost supernatural aura emanating from him.

Tall, muscular, and dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, he exuded a dangerous mix of power and seduction.

Carla averted her gaze for a moment, trying to reorganize her thoughts. She needed to remember why she was there.

Why she couldn't let herself be distracted by his appearance.

John Wall. CEO of New Human, a multinational company involved in everything: biotechnology, energy, artificial intelligence... and, according to certain confidential sources, far less respectable activities. Human trafficking, illegal experiments, contract killings. But that wasn't all.

The reason Carla had been sent here, infiltrated as a mere neighbor, was far darker. John Wall was suspected of being an abomination.

Not figuratively. Something inhuman.

The memories of her briefing came rushing back.

"We believe he has been altered, transformed. Maybe he hasn't been human for years."

At the time, she had scoffed. The agents in charge of the case had shown her evidence, photos, videos. Blurry recordings of John surviving impossible situations: an explosion in his lab, a plane crash, even an assassination attempt that had left him... unscathed. Too unscathed.

She had taken the mission. For the exorbitant pay and, she had to admit, for her own morbid curiosity.

But now that she was here, watching this perfect man, Carla doubted. Not about the truth of the accusations – she knew monsters could be beautiful – but about her ability to see this mission through.

She turned her gaze back to him.

He held a glass of red wine, surveying the city as if savoring every fragment of it. His face was illuminated by the glow of a holographic screen projecting data she couldn't decipher from this distance.

His features looked like they were carved from marble, all sharp angles and strength, but his eyes... there was something unsettling about them. Too piercing. Too... old for a man who didn't look a day over thirty-five.

Carla shivered despite herself.

She knew she should have been focusing on her notes, on the reports she had already compiled about John. But her mind wandered, captivated by the duality of this man.

On one hand, he was an enigma: a philanthropist by day, a predator by night. His public gestures were impeccable.

He had funded schools, built hospitals, invested in groundbreaking ecological projects. He was celebrated as a visionary.

But on the other hand, there were the rumors, the shadows that clung to him. Disappearing employees. Ruined competitors. Whispers of occult rituals, unholy pacts.

Carla sighed and stepped back from the telescope, running a nervous hand through her dark hair. She had to remind herself that he wasn't just a man.

The door to John's balcony opened, interrupting her thoughts. An elegant woman stepped out, wearing a long dress that shimmered under the artificial lights.

They exchanged a few words, but even with her sophisticated listening equipment, John couldn't catch anything.

John placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. A simple gesture, but strangely... possessive.

Carla looked away. It wasn't jealousy – of course not – but something about the scene unsettled her.

"Don't let him charm you," she murmured to herself, almost like a prayer.

She sat back down on the worn-out couch, flipping through the documents scattered on the coffee table.

John Wall wasn't just her target.

He was a complex puzzle.

The notes mentioned a transaction scheduled for two days from now.

A secret meeting with an unknown individual.

The location was still unconfirmed, but if her sources were correct, it would take place in one of New Human Corp's underground facilities. This was her chance to catch him, to uncover what he was really hiding.

And if she failed?

Carla didn't like to think about it.

She stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. She had seen monsters before, in other missions. Traffickers, assassins, cartel leaders.

But none of them were like John. None of them seemed capable of devouring you without lifting a finger.

A sudden buzzing noise broke the silence. An encrypted message on her laptop.

She opened it. A single sentence appeared on the screen:

"He knows you're there."

Carla's heart skipped a beat.

She stood up in a flash, scanning her apartment with her eyes.

Nothing had moved.

No signs of intrusion.

But the atmosphere had shifted, as if someone or something was watching her now.

She slowly approached the window. John's balcony was now empty. The woman was gone, and so was he.

A cold chill ran down her spine. She stepped back, closed the curtains, and took a deep breath.

"Stay calm, Carla," she murmured. "He can't find you."

But deep down, she knew that wasn't true. John Wall wasn't an ordinary man. If he was truly what they claimed, then she wasn't the hunter in this story.

She was the prey.