Author's Note: "Hey readers, today's chapter turned out a bit short. I promise that next time I'll aim for a longer release with even better quality. Thanks for sticking with me!"
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Davyd's faint whistle faded as his eyes fell on the old Hale house.
It looked abandoned, but the smell of burnt wood and rust lingered in the air like a scar that refused to fade.
He stopped in front of the door, tilting his head slightly. Shadows slithered across the floor, climbing the porch steps like living snakes.
"Nice house... for ghosts," he murmured, running his hand over the rotting wood.
The door creaked as he opened it.
And there he was. Derek. Standing halfway up the stairs, blue eyes fixed on him.
Davyd took a step back, his lips curling into a sarcastic smile.
"Holy shit. Someone actually lives here. Man, you really should find a better place. Even the grave I just crawled out of was cozier than this rat's nest."
The silence intensified as Derek shifted on the stairs, steady and calculating. The thing in front of him looked human... but it wasn't.
Davyd sniffed the air, tilting his head. Wet dog. Mixed with something raw. Something wild. His smile widened.
"Interesting... You're not exactly human, are you? What a stupid question! Just looking at the color of your eyes, I can tell you're not."
The darkness stirred.
Slowly, glowing embers emerged in the darkness, until dozens of flaming eyes watched Derek from every corner of the room.
Davyd's smile turned into something unholy. His face melted into pure shadow, leaving only two red eyes and a row of jagged teeth gleaming in the dim light.
"Now that's better. What company. Don't worry, mutt... they're on my side."
He took a step forward, scanning the room with curious eyes. His goal was simple: find out where he was and, if possible, get something useful: clothes, food (if this abandoned house was any good other than mold), any advantage.
Derek instinctively recoiled. Cold sweat ran down the back of his neck. His heart pounded. When he noticed his hand trembling, he was incredulous. It made no sense. He hadn't been afraid in a long time, but his body told him otherwise.
The air grew heavy, pressing down on his lungs. Shadows pulsed with burning eyes, piercing his mind. Every part of him screamed to run. But he stayed.
Davyd crossed his arms, his voice harsh and ironic.
"Relax. I'm not here to destroy anything. Not yet. But let's do this right. I have questions. And judging by your scent... you have the answers."
The tension dissipated. Neither of them moved. The only sound was the groaning of the floorboards and the whisper of shadows.
Then, suddenly, Davyd lost his balance. His knees buckled, and he collapsed face-first onto the floor.
"Fuck…" he muttered softly before blacking out.
The shadows shrank, shrinking as if recognizing their master's weakness.
Derek swallowed. Even unconscious, the boy radiated danger. He couldn't let him go.
His eyes scanned the house until they landed on rusty chains hanging from the wall. He grabbed them quickly, wrapping them tightly around Davyd's body, pinning him to the floor.
Each jingle of the chains echoed through the silence, reminding Derek that this was only the beginning.
He took a step back, his chest heaving and sweat dripping down his skin. The boy's presence pressed down on him even now, chained and unconscious.
Those chains wouldn't last long.
And Derek knew it.
It was kill now... or risk leaving him alive.
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until the next chapter...🫡