The subway tunnel seemed to go on forever, the dark swallowing everything except the steady drip of water. Maverick stumbled forward, every step feeling heavier, his legs aching and his throat dry like sandpaper.
The silence was broken by a flat, emotionless voice in his head.
Blood cravings at 75%. Self-control breaking down.
He groaned, clutching his stomach as the hunger clawed at his insides. It wasn't a normal hunger—not the kind a sandwich or a hot meal could fix. This was something darker, something that made his pulse quicken with fear.
"Shut up," he muttered hoarsely, swiping at the glowing blue screen hovering at the edge of his vision. Of course, it didn't go away. It never did.
"Find a safe, ethical source of blood to maintain control," the system added, as if it hadn't already made that clear a dozen times.
"I'm not drinking blood," he hissed, his voice low and shaky. Just thinking about it made his stomach twist, but the gnawing hunger wouldn't go away.
His legs gave out, and he slumped against the wet, dirty wall, pulling his knees up to his chest. The icy stone pressed into his back, snapping him out of his frenzy, if only a little. But the hunger was persistent, a sharp, growing ache that made his teeth feel like they were shifting in his skull.
He buried his face in his hands, trying to shut out the system, the pain, and everything else.
The faint sound of something moving ahead shook him from his thoughts.
Maverick froze, every muscle tensing. His heart pounded in his chest as he strained to listen. It came again, louder this time. The sound of movement. A footstep? A quiet sob?
He forced himself to his feet, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as adrenaline surged through his veins. Stumbling forward, he rounded a corner—and froze.
Crouched behind a pile of debris was a young woman.
Her messy hair and dirty clothes gave her a rough look, but her eyes were sharp and alert. She clutched her arm, where a makeshift bandage was soaked through with blood. A broken pipe was gripped tightly in her other hand, pointed directly at him.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice shaky but not backing down.
Maverick raised his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said, though his voice was hoarse and weak.
She glanced at his glowing eyes, and that's when he realized something was off. She tightened her grip on the pipe, her body tensing.
"Don't come any closer," she warned. "I don't know what you are, but I'm not taking chances."
"I'm not... I'm not dangerous," he said, though even he didn't believe it. His legs trembled as he took a step back, putting more space between them.
The metallic scent of her blood hit him then, sharp and overwhelming. It was stronger than anything he'd experienced before, more intoxicating than he could have imagined. His throat burned hotter, and his stomach twisted painfully.
He stumbled, clutching at the wall for support.
"Hey," the woman said, her tone shifting to something almost cautious. "Are you—what's wrong with you?"
"Don't come closer," Maverick rasped, his voice barely audible.
But she didn't move away. If anything, her frown deepened as she studied him. "You don't look good," she said, lowering the pipe slightly.
Maverick shook his head violently. "I said stay back!"
She flinched at his outburst, but she didn't run. Her eyes shifted to his shaking hands and sweaty face.
"You're not one of them," she said quietly, more to herself than to him.
He didn't even hear her. His vision blurred, red creeping in at the edges, and his fangs wouldn't retract this time. He clamped his hand over his mouth, but it was no use.
The system's voice cut through his panic. Blood cravings at 85%. Immediate action required.
He stumbled back, slamming into the wall. "This isn't happening," he whispered, panic dripping from his voice.
The woman—Luna, as she later introduced herself—watched him warily, but she didn't leave. Her grip on the pipe had loosened slightly, her eyes flickering between fear and curiosity.
Then, voices echoed through the tunnel.
Luna's head snapped toward the sound, her expression tightening. "Hunters," she hissed, her voice low.
Maverick barely registered the word. The hunger was all-consuming now, the scent of her blood overpowering every other thought.
Luna grabbed his arm, snapping him out of his haze. "Can you fight?"
"No," he said flatly.
"Then stay quiet and follow me."
She led him through the labyrinth of tunnels, moving quickly despite her injury. Maverick struggled to keep up, his legs feeling like jelly. The voices got louder and closer until they turned a corner and ended up in a small alcove.
"This way," Luna whispered, gesturing for him to follow.
He hesitated, his vision swimming as the hunger clawed at him.
"Now!" she ordered, and he immediately dove into the alcove.
They crouched in the shadows, their breathing shallow as the voices passed by. Luna leaned against the wall, clutching her arm. Her bandage had come loose, and fresh blood dripped onto the ground.
The scent hit him hard, nearly knocking the breath out of him.
His fangs extended fully now, and he could no longer retract them. His hands shook as he pressed them against his face, trying to block out the scent, the hunger, the overwhelming desire to lunge forward and—
No.
"I told you to stay back," he growled, his voice rough and low.
Luna looked at him, confusion flashing across her face. "What's wrong with you?"
"I didn't ask for this," he muttered, his voice trembling. "I don't want this."
Her eyes darted to his fangs, and realization hit her like a slap. Her grip on the pipe tightened again, but she didn't move.
"You're one of them," she said softly.
Maverick didn't answer. He couldn't.
His vision blurred completely, the edges darkening as the hunger took over. He couldn't stop it anymore.
The system's final warning flashed before his eyes:
Warning: Blood Frenzy Activated.
Luna's voice cut through the haze, sharp and fearful. "You—"
Too late to stop now. Then... he charged at her.