"There. Found her."
Takumi scrolled through Yuna's profile on the database, eyes lingering just long enough as if that alone could confirm she was still safe. He copied the number, pasted it into his phone, and brought it up to his ear as the call connected.
Nothing.
A flat, automated voice cut in. "The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable."
That was all it took. His jaw tightened slightly. There was no point trying again.
He lowered the phone and glanced at the screen, noticing the signal icon barely clinging to life. "So it's not just the school intercoms," he muttered. "Phones don't work either once night kicks in." He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Great. So what the hell are we supposed to do?"
With no other way to reach her, Takumi slid the phone back into his pocket and moved on. Keeping close to the building's wall, he advanced carefully, step by step, until he reached an exit point from the alley. He paused there, then slowly leaned out, scanning the area with a sharp, practiced gaze.
No movement. No sound. Just silence, broken only by the wind drifting through the streets.
"Looks clear," he whispered.
Still, he didn't linger. Staying in one place was risky—the creatures moved fast at night—but moving carried its own danger. One wrong turn, one unlucky step, and he could run straight into another one of them. He weighed his options silently, then chose a different path, slipping back into the city with caution guiding every move.
He decided to move, staying alert for any sign of danger. He checked the surroundings more than once before committing—too many risks, too many unknowns. The strange frequencies still interfered with everything, killing signals outright. It was honestly a miracle that citywide alerts even managed to function at night.
One last glance.
Nothing. No movement. No presence.
"Get lucky," he muttered to himself.
He broke into a sprint out of the alley—and instantly regretted it.
Only a few steps from where he'd been hiding, his body reacted before his mind could catch up. He froze, boots skidding against the pavement as he slid to a stop, staring straight at the dread he hadn't noticed until it was too late.
There it was.
Another one.
Not the same creature that had chased him before. This one was different.
It stood before him, unmistakable now—a creature wearing a cracked bull skull mask, deep fractures running through the bone as if it had been shattered and reforged. Curved horns twisted outward from the sides, framing a pair of glowing red eyes that burned within hollow sockets. Its body was long and serpentine, wrapped in layers of dark, glistening scales, while sharp, spider-like limbs kept it lifted just above the ground, never quite touching it.
"What…?" Takumi breathed. "There was nothing there."
He stepped backward slowly, careful not to break into a run, as the creature slithered down the side of the building. Its limbs scraped softly against the surface before it settled onto the street—right where Takumi had been standing seconds earlier.
"Poor human," it murmured.
The voice was female, low and reverberating, layered with a distorted echo that made it feel as though it was speaking from multiple places at once. Each syllable dragged against his ears, deliberate and unsettling.
"How certain are you?" it asked, the words curling with quiet mockery.
Unlike the creature from before, this one spoke with eerie clarity. Calm. Controlled.
"I was here the whole time," it whispered, its tone almost intimate. "Your eyes simply… could not detect me."
Yet Takumi could hardly believe it.
"Human eyes already can't see your physical form," he said, keeping his voice steady despite the tension tightening his chest. "I doubt there's any need for you to turn invisible."
His expression stayed stoic, but his body betrayed him—muscles tense, instincts screaming even if his mind refused to panic.
"Oh… but you can see me, can't you?" the creature crooned.
It slithered sideways, its movement unnervingly smooth, serpentine body gliding while its spider-like legs scratched and scraped against the pavement. The sound crawled up his spine.
"But no one ever said we were capable of becoming invisible," it continued softly. "Blending in with our surroundings…" A low, distorted chuckle slipped through the bull skull mask. "That is an entirely different matter."
Its long tongue hissed out from between cracked teeth, tasting the air as it climbed the wall with unnatural ease. Then it twisted its body, hanging upside down, its upper half bending backward just enough for its glowing red eyes to lock onto Takumi's from above.
It stared at him like that—smiling, watching—doing absolutely nothing else.
And somehow, that was the worst part.
"Blending with the environment…?" Takumi thought in silence, masking the surge of astonishment in his mind. The realization settled quickly—these things were far more dangerous than he had understood. Smarter. More adaptive. Whatever rules he thought applied were already breaking apart.
That same distorted, ghostlike voice slid back into the air. "Now, if you'll excuse me," it said slowly, hunger thick in every syllable. "I'm quite the hungry one." It paused deliberately, savoring the moment. "And your flesh…" A warped chuckle followed. "Looks delicious."
It launched without warning. No teasing. No delay.
This one was a brute, driven by nothing but instinct and appetite. It wasn't toying with him or feeding on fear. It wanted only one thing—human flesh.
Takumi snapped out of it and reacted on instinct, twisting on his heel and diving into a rough roll just as the creature lunged. Its claws sliced through empty air, missing him by inches as it sailed over his position.
"This thing's fast," he muttered, already pushing himself back to his feet.
He bolted without hesitation, legs burning as he sprinted toward the bridge ahead—the first open stretch he could use. The wind rushed past him as he burst onto it, steel railings and hanging lights flashing by in his peripheral vision. He cut sharply to the side, using the narrow walkways and support beams to break its path, forcing it to adjust with every sudden turn.
"Running won't save you," the creature hissed behind him. "You're a mere human."
Its spider-like legs moved in perfect rhythm, striking the surface faster than any normal stride, claws sparking as they scraped metal and concrete. Takumi ducked low beneath a railing, slid between support pillars, and vaulted over a fallen barrier, each movement just barely keeping him out of reach.
For a moment—just a moment—it worked.
Then pain tore through his shoulder.
One of the creature's sharp legs sliced across him as it lunged, the impact knocking him off balance. Blood spilled instantly, warm against the cold night air. His foot slipped on the bridge's surface, his breath catching as he staggered, momentum breaking for the first time.
He barely managed to stay upright, clutching his shoulder as the reality hit him. He wasn't getting away clean.
The creature didn't hesitate.
Its spider-like legs slammed down with brutal precision—one crushing Takumi's legs, another pinning his wounded shoulder hard against the bridge. Pain exploded through him as the air was forced from his lungs, the cold concrete biting into his back while its full weight pressed down, inescapable.
Slowly, it lowered its cracked skull mask until it hovered inches from his face.
The red glow in its hollow eyes pulsed.
"Ahhh…" it breathed, the sound wet and distorted, as if dragged through a throat not meant for speech. "You ran." A low, broken laugh rattled from behind the mask. "Such pretty panic. Such delicious effort."
Its tongue slid out with a sickening hiss, curling as it tasted the air between them. "Did you think stone and steel would protect you?" it crooned. "Did you think distance mattered?"
Takumi's jaw tightened, blood seeping from his shoulder as he stared back, refusing to look away.
"I will enjoy this," the creature whispered. "The fear first. Then the tearing."
One of its legs lifted slowly, the sharp edge gleaming as it hovered above his chest, poised to drive down and end it.
A sudden crack split the air.
Steel rang sharply as something flashed between Takumi's pinned body and the creature's mask. A flowing slash of deep crimson cut clean through the skull, splitting it from edge to edge like water parting under a blade. The creature released him instantly, erupting into a furious roar that twisted into a shrill, agonized screech—raw and brutal, like a human being tortured alive.
Its body jerked violently, movements spiraling out of control as panic overtook it. It slammed into the bridge's gates and fences, metal shrieking under the impacts while it thrashed wildly, unable to steady itself.
It reared back and faced the moon, screeching even louder as its form began to break apart. The dark scales cracked and crumbled, evaporating into drifting ash before dissolving into black wind. As the creature drew its final, ragged breaths and Takumi struggled back to his feet, that wind suddenly changed direction—lifting, spiraling, and rushing straight toward him.
Takumi's eyes widened. He raised an arm instinctively to shield his face, but before he could react, a transparent image of the creature's mask formed in front of him. It roared once more—hollow, furious—and then surged forward, dissolving into his palm.
The black wind wrapped around him instantly.
A violent current erupted, circling his body in tight, crushing spirals. His feet scraped against the ground as the pressure forced him downward, his body shaking, barely able to stay upright.
His vision blurred. His thoughts fractured. He couldn't understand what was happening.
Pain tore through him as he fought to endure it, and through the gaps in the swirling black wind, he caught sight of someone nearby—a woman with red hair, frozen in place, staring at him in stunned disbelief. She couldn't move, couldn't help, only feel the overwhelming force pressing down on everything around them.
"W-What's happening to me?!" Takumi cried out, his voice breaking as his arms and legs trembled. The wind intensified, screaming around him as if alive.
He turned his face upward toward the moon and screamed, the sound warping and distorting as it left his throat. And then—slowly—the black wind began to weaken. The violent currents faltered, thinning, unraveling, until they finally collapsed inward and burst apart.
Takumi dropped to his knees.
Silence followed. No wind. No presence.
Just the stillness of the night—and the echo of something that was no longer there.
Unable to remain conscious any longer, Takumi's vision blurred, the world around him smearing into shadow. The next second, everything went dark. The last thing he saw was the red-haired girl—her eyes wide as she ran toward him, panic written across her face, not fully understanding what had happened or why he was falling.
Then the darkness swallowed everything.
To be continued...