Indra gripped the revolver with trembling hands, sweat mixed with blood dripping from his chin. He had the creature in his sights, breathing hard at the edge of the moonlit clearing. This was the chance they had been waiting for.
But then, with a sudden animalistic burst, the creature rose onto its hind legs and dashed into the forest, limping but as fast as a shadow blur. The sound of breaking branches echoed until it faded into the night.
"No…"
Indra whispered desperately, lowering his weapon. Silence returned—heavy and suffocating. The moonlight still held strong, but the clouds were already licking the edges of the moon like hungry predators.
Ben, pale and trembling, could hold on no longer. His arms slipped off the blood-soaked pine trunk.
"Indra… I… I can't anymore…" he said, voice breaking. Then, with a snap, his grip gave way.
Indra stretched out his injured arm, but it was too late.
"BEN!" he screamed, watching helplessly as his friend fell.
The sound of the fall was terrible: a dry crack of breaking bones echoed through the clearing, followed by a scream so sharp it froze Indra's heart. He watched as Ben writhed on the ground, each movement causing more sickening cracks.
The trees stirred, warning them they were not alone. The creature emerged from the shadows, its body covered in blood, eyes glowing with maddened hunger. It dragged itself toward Ben, who screamed in agony.
"NO!" Indra yelled as the creature bit into Ben's trunk and pulled him into the darkness. The last sound was a piercing howl, fading as the forest swallowed everything.
Indra trembled, breath failing him. The pain of loss crushed his chest, nearly causing him to faint right there. "Sorry… Ben…" he whispered.
"I… I swear I'll kill that thing…"
At that moment, a strange breeze swept across the clearing—cold yet oddly comforting. A soft white light, gentle as moonlight, began to surround Indra. He felt his strength return, muscles firming, pain easing, as if something—or someone—was revitalizing him. The energy was faint but pulsed with determination, filling every inch of his exhausted body.
This energy didn't come from outside. It wasn't magic cast upon him, nor a blessing from some distant god. It was something awakening within Indra, like a hidden flame in his chest finally igniting—turning exhaustion into power, pain into pure rage.
Indra's eyes snapped open, clearer now, burning with fury and grief. He raised the revolver, loaded with the last remaining silver bullet. Down below, the moonlight still shone, but clouds crept relentlessly, covering half the moon. The creature lurked at the edge of the clearing's shadows, circling like a vulture, waiting for the final light to vanish so it could strike.
"Come on, bastard…" Indra growled, steadying his grip. "Come so I can finish this."
The wind picked up. The moon flickered. The final battle was about to begin.
He jumped from the tree, rolling on the ground to soften the landing. Though wounded, his body responded with supernatural precision. From his jacket pocket, he pulled out the military knife he always carried. In his other hand, he grabbed the torch lighter he used to light campfires—the blue flames danced in his fist, illuminating his determined eyes.
The creature lunged from the shadows, growling with hatred, each step cracking branches. Indra quickly lit a makeshift torch with twigs soaked in alcohol from his first aid kit. The flames lit up the clearing, casting monstrous shadows.
The creature hesitated—fire made it recoil. Seizing the moment, Indra swung the knife, slicing deeply into the beast's arm, black blood spraying and sizzling upon contact with the flames. A roar shattered the night, shaking Indra's heart, but he stood firm.
Indra struck again, using the torch as a flaming whip to keep the creature at bay. At a critical moment, the beast leapt onto him, but Indra rolled aside, feeling the white energy surge inside him, speeding his reflexes beyond human limits.
"YOU SON OF A—!" he shouted, driving the knife deep into the creature's ribs and twisting the blade. They fell together to the ground, the beast thrashing, claws slashing inches from his face.
The creature struggled to rise, bleeding from many wounds, but its predatory gaze never faltered. Indra was battered too: jacket torn, arm throbbing, body bruised. Yet his eyes held something new—a fierce glow fueled by the same energy pulsing like a second heart within him.
The moon still shone between the clouds now nearly covering it entirely. Silver light bathed both Indra and the creature, both gasping, knowing the end was near. The next move would seal one of their fates.
They stared each other down, motionless, gathering strength for the final blow.
The moon flickered behind a veil of clouds, leaving just a sliver of silver light on the clearing. In that frozen moment, man and monster were equally on the brink of death—ready to decide who would survive until sunrise.
The silence between Indra and the creature was louder than any roar. Every breath felt like a knife in the chest. The moon was seconds from vanishing completely, its light reduced to a thin silver thread. Indra's legs wavered, vision blurred from pain and blood loss, but the white energy kept burning inside him—a spark of pure determination.
The creature, though shredded, summoned its last strength and lunged with a savage leap, claws raised to tear Indra apart. He raised his trembling arm and, at the exact moment the moon disappeared behind the clouds, pulled the trigger.
The flash of the shot cut through the darkness like lightning.
The silver bullet tore through the air and struck the creature's heart dead center. The monster let out a piercing howl that echoed through the entire forest, reverberating like a dark thunderclap. Its body shuddered violently before collapsing heavily to the ground. At that same moment, the clouds fully covered the moon, plunging the clearing into darkness.
Indra dropped to his knees, exhausted. The energy sustaining him flickered out like a flame in the wind. He breathed heavily, the taste of blood in his mouth, as the warmth of the sun began coloring the horizon with golden hues.
Slow footsteps echoed through the forest, firm and purposeful. A tall figure appeared between the trees, dressed in black tactical gear reminiscent of special forces. Her short black hair swayed gently in the morning breeze. One detail impossible to miss: a long demon tail flicked behind her with the ease of someone born with it.
Her eyes—one steel-blue, the other emerald green—shone with surprise as she saw the creature's dead body—and the fallen youth beside it.
"You… killed that all by yourself?" she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Her voice was firm, almost military, but there was a tone of… surprise. Respect.
She knelt beside Indra. He tried to speak, but only blood came out.
"You went beyond what anyone expected…"
"But it's not your time to die yet."
Indra caught a final glimpse of her face—cold, calculating, yet somehow… protective.
"I'm taking you to the Esoteric Society."
And then everything faded into darkness.