Chapter 3: The First Hunt
The full moon hung like a silver eye over the city.
Adarsh stood at the edge of an abandoned rooftop, wind brushing against his skin. His senses were sharp — too sharp. Every breath, every sound, every movement of the night pulsed through his veins like electricity.
Below him, the city slept. But something else had woken up.
And it was hunting him.
Darian's voice echoed in his mind.
"Now that your blood has awakened, they will come. The first to find you won't be kind. They'll want to see if the prophecy is real — by killing you before you can find your strength."
Adarsh clenched his fists. He wasn't ready. But there was no more time.
In the distance, a scream.
High-pitched. Human.
Adarsh didn't think. He moved — faster than any normal person should. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, his legs stronger, his eyes glowing in the dark.
He followed the sound to an alley behind an old nightclub — trash scattered, neon lights flickering.
A girl lay on the ground, cornered by a creature.
Seven feet tall. Skin grey and cracked like dried stone. Fangs dripping. Eyes sunken but glowing.
A Feralthorn — an exiled vampire-beast. Not quite vampire, not quite demon. Something in-between.
It turned as Adarsh landed behind it, its nostrils flaring.
"You…" it hissed. "Hybrid blood…"
Adarsh stepped forward, heart pounding. "Let her go."
The Feralthorn growled, licking its lips. "You are young. Soft. You don't even know what you are yet."
"Try me."
With a screech, it lunged.
Time slowed.
Adarsh dodged, his reflexes reacting on instinct. Claws extended from his hands. He slashed, catching the beast across its chest.
It howled — not in pain, but in amusement.
"Not bad," it said. "But not enough."
The creature moved like smoke, striking Adarsh in the ribs. He flew into a dumpster, groaning, blood at his lips.
His vision blurred.
"You're not ready."
"You're just a scared boy."
Then something inside him snapped.
He remembered Priya's broken body. Her smile.
He remembered every slap, every bruise, every laugh from the world that had crushed him.
And the voice returned — the deep one, buried in his blood:
"Unleash it."
Adarsh roared.
His bones shifted. His eyes burned crimson. His body blurred — fur sprouted along his arms, his fangs grew longer. Not a full transformation… but enough.
Half-wolf. Half-vampire.
Something terrifying. Something new.
He struck with monstrous speed — claws slicing through the creature's defense, eyes locked with fury. He pinned the Feralthorn against the wall.
"I'm not soft anymore," he growled.
And with a final strike to the heart — he ended it.
The creature disintegrated into ash.
The girl behind him gasped. "W-what are you?"
Adarsh turned to her, his monstrous features fading back to human. He didn't answer.
Because the truth was… he wasn't sure himself.
Later that night, Darian stood on the church rooftop, watching from afar.
A shadow emerged beside him — a woman in silver armor with glowing green eyes.
"So it begins," she said. "The boy has awakened. The Council will not ignore this."
Darian's eyes narrowed. "Let them come. He's not like the others."
"And if he loses control?"
Darian's expression hardened. "Then may the world forgive us."
Back in his apartment, Adarsh stood over his sister's sleeping form.
He whispered, "I'm going to fix this. I'll find the truth. I'll tear through this world if I have to."
His eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
He was no longer prey.
He was the storm coming for those who hunted him.
To be continued...