Before I could get to the woody suburb, I noticed the dark grey bleaching that spread across the sky, and before I could say jack, thunder clapped loudly, followed by a heavy downpour. By the time I reached Professor Duncan's door, I was already drenched. My teeth chattered, my body trembled, and the cold rain pierced through my skin until I almost believed it would snow — and soon enough, it did.
Shivering, I pressed the doorbell repeatedly, waiting for Professor Duncan to answer. The house was silent, and for a moment, I thought no one was home. Determined not to give up, I slammed on the door.
"Oh my goose! Darius!" he exclaimed, flashing a torchlight into my face as he opened the door. His brow was raised, his eyes dim and sleepy. I stood there, soaked and shaking uncontrollably, water dripping steadily onto the floor.
"Come on, get in!" he urged, not even stopping to wonder why a kid my age was out in the coldest, darkest hour of the night.
Once inside, I hurried to the fireplace, desperate to warm up. "I'll fix you a hot coffee," he said, already moving toward the kitchen. Even if he hadn't offered, I would have gone for it myself — the cold had swallowed me whole. He returned swiftly with the steaming cup, then disappeared again, only to come back with a fresh shirt and a blanket.
It was then that realization dawned on him, and he finally asked, "What happened? I've been looking forward to your visit after the last one, but not at this hour."
I had expected that question, even while I was still outside. Maybe he had waited until now because he didn't want to burden me further, seeing the state I was in. I stayed silent, no energy left to speak — no motivation to even believe in life anymore. I lifted the cup to my lips, taking a small sip that burned my palms but brought warmth to my chest.
Professor Duncan swallowed hard, blinked, and anxiously waited for me to say something. He noticed the tears sliding down my chin and couldn't tell if they had been there all along or had just begun. I tried to speak, but my lips felt heavy — weighed down by grief and confusion. Finally, I forced the words out.
"They killed them. I saw it happen."
My shoulders shook violently as I broke into sobs. Professor Duncan froze, scanning the room as if the killers might be hiding nearby. "Who are you talking about, Darius?" he demanded, stepping closer. He grabbed my shoulders, steadying me. "Perk up, Darius, and talk to me. Who are you talking about?"
Sniffling, I smacked my lips and said hoarsely, "They came in stretched black limos. Well-suited. Some of them shape-shifted into black wolves — huge, terrifying — and they pounced on my parents. They devoured them… without leaving a trace. And…" My voice broke, tears flooding my face. "And they burnt down our house. I barely escaped."
He gripped my face gently, his tone firm yet worried. "Now perk up. Look me in the eyes! Did your parents tell you anything? Anything at all about these shifters?"
His question echoed inside me — and so did my father's last words:
Never expose this virus to anyone.
I trusted Professor Duncan, but I couldn't betray my father's dying wish. Obedience was the last respect I owed him.
"Nothing… nothing," I lied, shaking my head.
"Listen," Professor Duncan said softly, "you're safe here. Unless someone saw you come, no one will trace you. This is your home now, Darius. I'm here for you." He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, his voice full of reassurance.
I nodded faintly, though my thoughts were elsewhere — fixed on the virus still hidden in my school bag. "Come on, let me show you your room," he said, leading me by the arm toward the inner chamber.
That night, I lay awake, my mind replaying the horror over and over. The tragedy that had struck me was unbearable, but one thought stood out — Julius. Everything he had warned me about had come true.
I turned my gaze toward the bag beside me. Inside it, the green fluid shimmered faintly under the dim light — the virus that had started it all.