We continued deeper down the subway-sized tunnel, each step pulling us further into the dark maze of the Primeval’s remains. Alex adjusted her new clothes, and as she caught my gaze, a sly look crossed her face. It was more than the usual smirk; her eyes held a satisfaction I couldn’t place. She seemed to know the hold she had over me, as if she were proving some unspoken point; using her body and the usual methods she employed to frazzle me.
Then she spoke, cutting into me with that unflinching voice of hers. “You're still bent out of shape about Autumn, aren't you?” There wasn’t an ounce of softness or apology in her words. She just plunged in, picking apart my thoughts with her usual brutal precision.
“What?” I asked, trying to shake off the weight her words were beginning to settle on my chest.
She didn’t wait for me to catch up. “I can tell you're still thinking about her… about possibly getting her back.” Her voice held a mix of exasperation and warning. “Take Charles as an example, and don’t do what he did. That’s why I keep telling you… you’re a monster. We’re both monsters. Charles is a monster. Martin is a monster. We don’t belong with humans. No matter how much you care for them, you’ll always be a passive threat.”
“Charles…” I repeated, thrown by her comparison. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes narrowed, a bitter look hardening her face. “Look at him. Tied to a family, just like Martin. And look how tangled he’s become with the evil that lives down here, even if it’s just to protect the people he loves. He lured that corruption right into their lives. His presence alone brought that shapeshifter to that old woman. That’s why she was killed. That’s the bottom line, Sam. That’s what I’m trying to get through your thick, fucking head.”
I wanted to fire back, tell her she was wrong, but I held my tongue. Her words hit harder than I’d expected, striking a nerve I wasn’t prepared for. Beneath all the bluntness, there was a weight to what she was saying, a truth I couldn't just dismiss.
“Don’t think I haven’t wanted friends… a family of my own,” she continued, her voice dipping just a little. “This life is lonely, and I’ve wanted it. But deep down, I know it’s wrong. Wrong to pull anyone else into this nightmare.”
She leaned closer, her voice laden with a rare urgency. “Look at Charles and the hell he's dragged into his family’s lives. Look at Martin and the endless danger hanging over the Chasse family because of him… his tips, clues to lead them on more hunts. And then look at yourself. How close you got with Autumn, knowing exactly what kind of evil follows you around, knowing your enemies would be a threat no one could ever understand… Do you think it’s right to bring that down on her? On all of them?”
Her words sunk deep, and I felt an ache of recognition. I wanted to argue, to deny it, to cling to the idea that things could be different. But a part of me, that part I tried so hard to ignore, knew that she was right.
"Frank and James seem to make it work," I muttered, more of a stray thought than anything. It wasn’t even meant to be a point, just a half-hearted deflection.
“For now, maybe,” Alex interrupted my thoughts, her tone sharp. “But what happens the day Jane loses control? The day Frank bites the bitter end of that deal? No matter how sorry she’ll be, she’ll never take it back. Or maybe it won’t even be her… maybe someone else in the pack will decide to challenge her, attack her, and the first person they’ll target? A human. Doesn’t matter if Frank’s a hunter or not.” She didn’t stop, her words hitting harder, like she was trying to drive each one deep enough to stay. Then she shifted examples. “Why do you think Patrick went after Autumn… if he really did use that brush on her somehow? Was it just about the two of them, or did you factor in? If something happened to her… if she’s changed in some way because of him, do you really believe your presence in her life had no part in that?”
Her words stung, sharp and merciless, making every excuse I had feel flimsy, and I looked down, feeling that twisted truth settle in. I'd be lying if I said she was wrong. Every part of me knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. I was supposed to be dead, after all. Being with Autumn was a reality that never should have happened, and I don’t mean that metaphorically… I mean literally. If I hadn’t been torn from my life, I’d still be back in Dallas with Vicky and my family. I’d have a daughter, be a father, living life as a family should. The only reason I even knew the Chasse family was because I’d been shoved into this monstrous life.
I looked at Alex, my voice lowering with anger. “And what about my family, huh? You know my brother was in town, right? Now he knows… that I’m alive, and I have to go back and face him. What am I supposed to do about that?” I challenged her, feeling the heat of frustration in my words. It was easy for her to say all this, to spit truths, but living with them was something else entirely.
She paused, choosing her words carefully this time. “You need to do the right thing. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, Sam. But the more you show yourself to them, the more of this world you’ll wash over them. If something comes for one of them… all of them… could you live with yourself… knowing it’s your fault?”
I scoffed, ready to argue, but she went on, her tone shifting to something gentler, almost regretful. “I know you had a wife, Sam. Martin told me. He said it was something the Chasses mentioned a while back. You had a wife… and a child. A daughter?”
Her words brought the image of Caydee flooding back, her small face as she sat in her crib the night I first learned she existed. My chest tightened, a dull ache of guilt and longing settling over me. “Her name is Caydee,” I said, my voice thick. “What about her? Am I just supposed to give up on her?”
Alex’s face softened, but her eyes held a steely truth. “It’s not about giving up, Sam. It’s about keeping her safe. Is this really a life you’d want for her? Because, whether you mean to or not, it’s the life she’ll end up living the closer you get.”
Alex actually shook her head, her voice laced with an unusual certainty. "No," she said, firm. "But that doesn’t mean you should just show up, dump your deepest, darkest secrets on them, and drag them into the world we live in."
Frustration flared in me, raw and stubborn. "What the hell are you trying to say?" I demanded. "If you’ve got a point, just spit it out. Spell it out for me like you usually do."
She gave me a hard look, her jaw tight, then let out a slow breath as if bracing herself. “Let me tell you a story.”
We kept moving through the tunnel, our footsteps echoing in the hollow darkness. Her eyes grew distant as she relived whatever memory she was digging up, each word chosen with care as if she wanted them to sink into me, to linger and simmer. She was trying to show me something, something she couldn’t outright say.
“I’ve told you some things, how it happened, how I was turned,” she began, her voice quiet but firm. “But I never told you everything. I was born in 1944. Three brothers, a mom, and a dad. We lived in one of those picture-perfect suburban homes, you know? The family who loved each other, who… well, who wanted a good life for me. A quiet life, pastel houses, and white picket fences were my future. And everyone was for it… all my brothers… my parents. Except me. I was the rebellious one. Youngest of the lot, the only girl, always fighting with my brothers, always trying to make my own rules. I thought it made me tough, made me… my own person.”
I listened, caught off guard by the glimpse she was giving me. Her tone held a strange mix of longing and bitterness, and I could feel her words edging into something vulnerable, something she hadn’t shown before.
“I met Jerry, and he was everything my family didn’t want for me. Bikes, rough friends… they didn’t approve, didn’t like the crowd I was running with. But Jerry and I were in love, and we were going to get married, no matter how much my family tried to pull me back. We fought a lot. They told me the life I’d chosen was going to get me killed. Mom even told me to never come back unless I’d drop everything and live how they wanted.” Her voice cracked, just barely, but she covered it with a hard edge. “So… I left.”
The bitterness in her voice surprised me. It was something I couldn’t fully understand. My family had always supported me and my siblings, no matter the choices I’d made. They gave me room to make mistakes… to learn. I looked at her, suddenly feeling the weight of her story, the ache in her words that hinted at so much loneliness. I never knew anything like she did… not in this way.
“When it happened," she continued, quieter, "when the vampires took everything from me, the first thing I wanted… more than revenge… was just to go home. To see them, to try and make things right. I cleaned myself up the best I could and tried to look like the daughter they remembered. But when I showed up at their door, my mother…” She paused, her voice shaking as she forced herself to continue. “She was heartbroken. She looked at me like I was some stranger like all the life had been drained out of her.”
I hesitated. "Did you tell her?"
Alex shook her head, her expression pained. “No. She wouldn’t even let me explain. She just cried, the whole time. She didn’t want to see me, didn’t want to hear a word. She had already given me a chance to change my ways. She said she had to stick to her word. Just… shut the door and left me standing there.”
Her words hung heavy between us, filling the silence as we walked. I could feel her pain like a sharp blade, pressing against a hidden wound. She wasn’t just telling me this for no reason; she was trying to illustrate everything as she led to something.
She turned to me, her gaze unwavering. “You think you can just step back into their lives, Sam, like you’re the same person? You’re not. This world changes you, taints you, and every step closer you get… you’re bringing them right to the edge with you.”
The realization sat heavy in my chest, anger and sorrow churning. She was right, and even if I hated it, some part of me understood.
I watched her, feeling the crack in my heart grow as she spoke. There was something raw and almost painful in the way Alex looked at me, a vulnerability that I never saw before, and I almost wished I hadn’t. I got a glimpse of just how much suffering she had gone through.
"What did you do?” I asked, barely able to get the words out.
She held my gaze for a second, then let it go, staring into the dim tunnel ahead. “I left,” she said quietly. “And the longer I stayed away, the more I understood what I’d become. My mother was right… living that life had killed me. And if she couldn’t handle me being with Jerry, she definitely wouldn’t have handled… this.” Her voice thickened, cracking with a mixture of bitterness and resignation. “When I realized what I was… a monster, craving blood more than anything else… it made me sick. Just knowing that I shared the same thirst as the ones who’d done this to me filled me with rage. I couldn’t be like them… I wouldn't…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t hunt humans. But I found a different craving, one I’d never asked for… vampire blood. I was addicted. It was stronger, darker. Satisfying in a way nothing else was. I spent years hunting, killing vampires, keeping to the shadows,” Alex said, her voice low but threaded with a somber pride. “I’d watch them sometimes… my family, going on with their lives; safe, happy, never having any idea of what had become of their daughter… sister. I never told them, and I never let them see me again. But I stayed close. I stayed until every last one of them had passed away.”
Her words fell quietly, but they carried the weight of years, and I could feel the strength it took to remain unseen. She’d given up everything, every ounce of connection, but she’d done it for them. “I cut ties after that, let the rest go. There are grandchildren, cousins, relatives all over the country… but it’s best to stay away.”
She looked away for a moment, as though summoning the will to carry on had become a familiar habit, one rooted in sorrow but also in something deeper. Pride flickered behind her gaze, and I realized that this was the burden she chose to bear, her silent vow to keep them safe, even if they’d never know it was her protection that shadowed their lives. “They never knew, and they never had to. That’s what matters.”
The silence fell heavy between us, her words a stark contrast to the indifference she usually showed. She’d spent decades lurking in the darkness, driven by guilt and grief, keeping herself chained to people who never even knew she was there.
Then, finally, she said, “You remind me of me, Sam.” Her voice softened, but the weight of her words hit hard. “I see it more and more now. You never asked for this life, either. And I know you left your family behind, just like I did, to protect them from the thing you’ve become. But you’re slipping… you’re reaching back for something you can’t have anymore. You want to hold on to people, to connections, to whatever you think you still need. But you don’t.” Her voice hardened. “You want them, but you don’t need them. Protecting them from this dark world and yourself… that’s what you are now. That’s the hand you were dealt. That’s the way you have to live until something comes to take you down.”
She fell silent, a hint of defiance in her gaze, her honesty laid out like a challenge.
I looked at her sharply, her green eyes reflecting the dim light. “Why are you down here with me, Alex?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer. “I thought you were here for a buffet or a good hunt… I never really asked why you were here with me.”
She didn’t look away. “I’m cursed to this life, Sam. I didn’t want it, but it’s mine. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that from me again. I came down here with you because I feel the same thing in you that’s in me. That dark, angry part of you that refuses to give up. To not let these fuckers live down here in peace… and keep on killing!” She hesitated, something hard to say caught on her tongue. “And… if there’s something down here that could kill me? I want to meet it head-on. I’m not suicidal, but I don’t want to live forever, either. If something takes me out while I’m fighting… so be it. But I’ll go down swinging.”
I gave a small, rueful smile, feeling the weight of her words settle in me like they were something I’d been trying not to see but always knew was there. “You know,” I told her, “we’re a lot more alike than I realized.” I paused, the admission cutting deeper than I expected. “I’m not proud of it, but in the beginning… I tried to kill myself a few times.” I motioned down the length of my body. “Guess you can see how that turned out.”
She didn’t smile. “With everything I’ve told you,” she said quietly, “you really need to think about what I said.” Her face hardened, the brief glimpse of her softer side slipping back into guarded resolve. The warmth faded from her voice, leaving only an iron certainty. “What we are… it’s something no one else should ever have to become. The hardest thing anyone on this earth could ever do is live what we are.” She took a steadying breath, eyes locking on mine, unflinching. “People whose families were stolen, lives shattered; our minds and bodies twisted into something that can’t help but hurt the people we once loved. But we stay away. That’s the greatest protection we can offer.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. She was right. I’d danced around these thoughts countless times in the early years of this life, trying to find some justification, some way to balance who I was against who I’d been. But the moment I felt even the faintest glimpse of my old life, of connection, I clung to it. I put up weak walls, ones that never stood a chance, just so I could say I tried to keep them safe. The truth was, I’d been searching for any excuse to ignore what I knew was right.
Alex seemed to sense my turmoil, but she didn’t push it any further. We kept walking, silence filling the spaces between us, her words echoing in my mind like a final verdict.
Her words lingered in my mind like sharp, splintered glass, settling into places I’d been trying to ignore. She and I both knew that what she was saying was the truth… at least, her truth. We knew that there were already ties I couldn’t sever, connections that kept pulling me back, even as I’d tried to convince myself it was safer for everyone if I did. The human inside me clung to these bonds with a kind of desperate strength that defied reason, whispering that maybe I could hold on and keep them safe. And yet, Alex had a point. To her, there were no shades of grey, only sharp, cold lines between what we could and couldn’t allow ourselves to feel, to be, to need.
But I lived in that grey area, wedged between what she called “right” and the part of me that longed for something real, something to hold onto in this darkness. She saw this life as a strict duty… an endless stretch of nights doing what needed to be done… until her time came. Her voice was cold, and resolute; a voice that had accepted the role of the lone hunter, the eternal shadow. But I saw more. I saw someone who had lost so much of herself that she couldn’t remember what it felt like to reach for others, to have someone hold on and refuse to let her drift away.
And yet, I also felt the pull of her words. She was right, wasn’t she? I was barely living, pulling the people I cared about closer even as I wrestled with what that meant. It was selfish, a gamble on both sides. I should let them go, I knew that, but the thought of being entirely alone… of living in the same exile that she had, filled me with a hollow dread.
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Still, there was a spark within her that she couldn’t hide, even if she tried. Not from me. Beneath that hard exterior, I glimpsed the pain she hid and the longing she would never admit to. I wanted to help her. More than that, I wanted to be her friend, to break through the walls she’d put up and show her that we didn’t have to bear this life in solitude.
For the first time, I felt a strange hope, something that edged out the hollow ache her words had left behind. I wasn’t sure if I could change things for her or if I could even make a difference, but I wanted to try. For once, the endless darkness we both carried didn’t seem quite as isolating, and I felt something close to resolve building in me. She didn’t need to face this alone. Neither of us did.
It would be tough, but I found something in Alex I never thought I’d find. She was a friend… a companion. She’d never admit it… not at the moment, but our similarities were too numerous. We could relate to a similar shared experience that not many others could. She’d probably fight it… but we’d become great friends.
The tunnel walls widened, stretching outward until they surrounded us like the yawning maw of some ancient, hollow beast. The steep downward slope grew sharper beneath our feet, each step pressing us closer to the edge until we finally stood on the lip of a cliff, looking down into the abyss below. The rocky outcropping was jagged, slabs of stone jutting at irregular angles as if frozen mid-eruption, and as we looked over the edge, a faint glow emerged from below. Hundreds of feet down, the flicker of torches drew faint golden paths that snaked through the dark. Here, deep in this forsaken place, someone had made their home.
Structures rose from the shadowed ground below, small and crude, their walls built of warped wood or some splintered material; a strange settlement set up on an underground plateau, scattered huts huddling together in clusters. I glanced over at Alex, arching an eyebrow. “Locals, huh?” I muttered, smirking.
She nodded curtly. “Seems that way,” she replied, her voice edged with primed violence. I saw her eyes go red, veins flaring as her vampiric power surged to life. She scanned the depths with a focused intensity, her senses honing in on the activity below. I took a breath, activating my own pulse. A ripple of sensory probing through the unknown. Both of us, unexpectedly, felt it: the unmistakable hum of bodies. Dozens of them. Thirty, maybe forty, lingering near the huts, the outlines of each soul pressing faintly into my awareness. They were simply… there. Talking in low voices, lounging on chairs inside their crude shelters. I caught a glimpse of some disappearing into crevices that opened like hidden pockets along the cavern walls, drifting even deeper into the rock.
Alex’s gaze sharpened. “So, what’s the move?” she asked, her voice steady and blunt. “Kill them all, or try to blend in and get closer? Find an elder?”
I weighed the options, considering the chaos of a sudden assault. “If we make a scene here, the elders might scatter, go even deeper. Not a fan of them bolting the moment we strike. Let’s go down, and see what this is all about.”
Moments later, Alex and I were scaling the cliff face, clinging to rocks with grips like iron. The slope wasn’t smooth; instead, the cliff seemed like part of the massive, ancient joint in the giant leg of this spider-like Primeval. The rocks shifted unpredictably under our weight, and while our strength made us less likely to fall, loose stones had a habit of tumbling free beneath our hands. We crept downward, avoiding the echo of crumbling stones.
As I climbed, I glanced over at Alex, catching her mid-movement. She had paused, adjusting her handhold at a precarious turn where the wall twisted into a near-vertical drop as we hung from a ceiling. The cliff curved into a sheer drop where we had to hang by fingertips, and then angled downward into a sloped ceiling. Alex’s eyes flashed as she caught me watching her, gripping onto a petrified, jagged shard of what looked like a bone that jutted from the stone.
“What?” she hissed, the annoyance clear in her voice.
“Just making sure you’re good,” I replied, shrugging, though the tension between us felt close to a low-grade charge in the air.
“If I need your help,” she snapped, voice curt and cutting, “I’ll ask for it.”
Her words stung, striking with a cold finality that left no room for argument. It wasn’t the first time she’d batted away my concern like it was some affront to her strength, and yet, her defiance only made me want to be there for her more. The cracks in the solitude she wore like armor… I wanted to help her let them go, even if she never asked.
What you say, Alex asked once I had finally spoken to her again.
“Damn,” I muttered, huffing out a frustrated breath. “You really just can’t manage to get along, can you? You’re either all in or all out. It’s like you’re always in a mood, pushing every button I’ve got just to see how far you can take it.”
My annoyance slipped out rawer than I intended, my words carving through the murky silence between us. Alex merely shook her head, a faint snort leaving her lips as if she’d heard it all before. She didn’t respond, just kept climbing, her grip steady and unwavering. So, we climbed in silence, picking our way down the craggy rock face as the darkness around us deepened.
When we reached a near-vertical drop, we eased down inch by inch, fingers, and feet finding hold against the rugged stone. As we neared the bottom, the silence grew heavier, the air colder. The path before us finally leveled out, leading directly into a small, makeshift settlement pressed against the cavern walls like an afterthought.
I took a moment to assess it. Six buildings clustered together, crudely built yet sturdy, formed from a wood that was unlike any I’d ever seen; dense, nearly black, with a strange gleam to it that didn’t catch the torchlight so much as absorb it. It had the look of something ancient, unnatural even. We positioned ourselves along the outskirts, each movement precise, and careful, sending out waves of sensory pulses as we went, gathering whatever intelligence we could without revealing our presence. Thirty-six figures, all huddled in their own pockets of this dark, underground village. They moved slowly, as if bound by some unseen lethargy, their motions blending with the shadows.
Among them, I detected a handful of vampires; their blood signatures were potent, like pinpricks of fire in the stillness. The rest, though human in appearance, felt distinctly… off. They held a heaviness, an unsettling aura that crawled up my spine, hinting at something buried, something different.
Keeping low, we slipped around the left side of the encampment, noting the vast tunnel that yawned before us, angling even further into the earth. This tunnel marked the end of this ‘leg’… the structure we were navigating, and led into something much larger, something more profound and ancient. As the torches cast long, flickering shadows, I caught sight of another structure looming at the far end. Even from here, it dwarfed the huts we’d passed. Its mass and dark presence were deceptive at this distance, but I could tell it was enormous, likely the size of a mansion if not more. It was constructed from the same otherworldly wood, standing as a final threshold, a gateway between the limb of this Primeval entity and the core of its body.
I sent out a pulse down the length of the tunnel, feeling the air, the density, and gathering impressions of the structure beyond. There were two heartbeats inside that dark monolith, steady and slow. One pulsed with a distinct rhythm, something ancient, primal… a heartbeat that thudded like the march of centuries. My pulse reverberated back to me, a distant, almost painful sense of recognition echoing in my mind, stirring something deep within. The monster inside me… the Primeval, shifted… a thread of awareness tingling through my senses as though some part of it knew precisely what we were approaching.
“Elder,” I murmured aloud, my gaze fixed on the expanse stretching out between us and that shadowy structure. It loomed at the end of this tunnel like a final sentence, made from that same strange wood, each line and angle blending into the darkness, as if waiting for us, knowing we would come.
“How do you know?” she asked, her voice a blend of skepticism and curiosity. “How can you sense anything that far off? I can feel someone down there, but I can’t tell anything about them.”
“Just trust me,” I replied coldly, my tone steady despite the urgency swirling within me. “He’s in there. We get him, then there are only eight more to go.”
“Is this a “Death” thing?” she pressed, her brow furrowing. “Is he like, telling you where to go?” She asked inquisitively. I could tell when given the chance, not in immediate danger, she’d ask me tons of shit that was swirling in her mind.
“Death’s not here with us,” I said sharply, the truth biting at my tongue. “I have to do this by myself.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and moved forward. I didn’t have time to explain. It was like an electric charge had filled my bones, an instinct deep within me urging me onward. The monster inside stirred, a restless force clamoring for release. It craved destruction, hungering to unleash my pent-up anger and frustration on everyone in this chamber.
I started to shift, each step bringing my transformation closer. The air around me thickened with anticipation as I headed toward the larger structure at the end of the chamber. My fingers fumbled at the hem of my clothes, trying to strip them off before the change overtook me. I didn’t want to ruin my clothing during the fight. But as my body began to lurch, the seams of my pants protested, tearing at the waist and crotch with a sound that was both liberating and frustrating. I gave up on saving my shirt; I certainly wasn’t going to be left with just a shirt and no pants. I’d look ridiculous.
Then I sprinted forward, feeling the constraints within me break apart. An inferno of heat surged through my fingertips as black, bone-like talons erupted, slicing through each digit like they were made of paper. My mouth ignited with pain as every jagged tooth elongated, transforming into a monstrous form. My eyes had darkened further to an abyssal black, now growing in size alongside the rest of me.
I moved with a singular purpose, driven by the primal intent of the monster within. I was racing toward the figure I sensed at the end of this leg chamber… the Elder. I could feel him, a sliver of Primeval power residing within another entity. A thief who had to be eradicated.
My pulse sense hummed with life, sending out waves of hunting energy that enveloped the space around me. I could sense Alex right behind me, her blood pounding with the thrill of imminent slaughter. We dashed past a throng of about thirty lesser monsters, mere obstacles in our path. I suspected that when we took down the Elder, some of them would flee… some would fight, but I couldn’t be sure. From the dark realm where my Primeval had spoken with this husk of Hunger, it had seemed that chaos would erupt in the wake of such a death. I wasn’t clear if that chaos would happen now or during the finality of the last elder’s death, but one thing was certain: if this elder fell first, pandemonium would follow. Those who relied on him would panic, making them far easier to dispatch.
This form… the monster I had become… was meant for the elder. His death sentence.
As Alex and I tore through the open expanse, the structure loomed larger, its grotesque beauty revealing itself in more detail now that I was fully transformed. The material it was built from, that dark wood, was no mere timber; it was bone… hardened, ancient bone carved from the depths of the dormant corpse of Hunger. The building itself was a grotesque testament to the monstrosities that dwelled here, intricately chiseled and designed for gathering. The closer I got, the more I felt the monster’s will intertwining with my own. It wasn’t forcing itself upon me; instead, it was merging with me, as if we were two sides of the same coin. Both of us had our hands on the wheel, steering us toward the same dark destination.
I propelled myself off the jagged rock floor, shooting upward in a powerful arc, my momentum sending vibrations through the air that would announce my arrival to my intended victim. The building towered above us, five or six stories high, but it was nothing compared to the strength of annihilation that surged within me. I soared through the nightmarish red hue of the cavern, feeling the exhilarating pulse of power coursing through me like a tidal wave.
As I ascended, new revelations unfolded within me. The monster was utilizing my pulse sense, merging its instincts with mine. Information flooded my mind like a rushing river, its presence ever vigilant, alerting me to threats and keeping a watchful eye on Alex, our companion in this ancient hunt that had been overdue… far too long. Without Death’s presence, the bond between the monster and me had strengthened, allowing us to rely on each other in ways I had never practiced. The reality of what I was becoming settled into my mind, unclouded by fear. I had a job to do, and I was resolute in my purpose.
My momentum carried me through the narrow opening. My massive, shadowed form scraped against the edges of what looked like a fractured wall or perhaps an ancient balcony. It was barely big enough to fit me; I had to tuck my limbs in close, maneuvering with careful force to push through the gap. Yet, the instant I entered, the pulse, my inner compass, that relentless, magnetic beat zeroed in on my target, pulling me straight toward him. No need for a drawn-out search or aimless hunt through this labyrinthine place. I knew exactly where he was, and there’d be no escaping me.
I came to a stop on the cold, obsidian floor of the upper level. My footfalls sent low, reverberating thuds through the vast chamber. Ahead, a figure dressed in dark, flowing robes stood under the thin beam of dim, sickly light leaking from a narrow window above. His head snapped up at the sound of my arrival, the barest flicker of surprise crossing his face. His eyes found mine and, for a fleeting second, confusion clouded his features… eyes narrowing in disbelief, as though he was struggling to process my presence here, in a space no one dared to enter uninvited.
But he didn’t scream, didn’t stumble back, or run as most would at the sight of my monstrous form. Instead, he adjusted his stance, squaring his shoulders, and gave me a look that was half curiosity, half contempt. The robed man’s expression hardened, his gaze like steel.
The man was tall, his build lean but solid, shoulders squared with the arrogance of someone who knew how to fight. His blond hair was cut in neat, crisp lines around a face that could’ve passed for late twenties, but his eyes were ancient. His skin was a pale white from lifetimes of living beneath the city, far from the sun’s reach. He was older than Alex and me… older than most. But not older than the ancient thing inside me. Not older than the Primeval that had twisted me into this version of itself.
He straightened, tossing his robe aside with a dismissive flick, preparing to face me. Underneath, his torso bristled with four extra arms, each clasped to the opposite in a strange, concealing hold. As they unfurled, his six arms stretched, each one as thick and muscular as the other, extending with quiet readiness. The horror of what came next would’ve broken anyone else, but not me. I watched each arm transform: muscles twisting, reshaping as dark blood oozed from his skin. His bones reformed, forcing out from under his skin in long, jagged blades. Each arm became a weapon, transformed into broad, blade-edged limbs, dripping blood as flesh warped into brutal efficiency.
His face contorted as his entire frame stretched upwards, bones popping and cracking under the strain. The man’s body bent, leaning into a half-spider crouch as his lower arms braced him, while his torso elongated grotesquely. His other sets of arms fanned out, blades aimed at me like grim, serrated wings. His skin seemed stretched tight, pulling his human face into something alien, sharper, with raw bone pushing just beneath the surface. And through all of it, that ridiculous blond haircut stayed exactly the same… a detail that sparked a chuckle in my throat, mirrored by the Primeval’s dark amusement echoing inside.
In a twisted, gravelly voice, he spoke, each syllable dripping with venom. "Who enters? What power do you hold?" His face, half-man, half-something else, carried a sliver of doubt, a hint of fear barely hidden behind that monstrous confidence. He’d changed to fight, to make sure there’d be no mistakes. He knew he needed every weapon he had to take me on.
A pulse shuddered through me, a ripple of power erupting as my body answered, expanding. I felt my spine ignite, vertebrae cracking, elongating, molten pain scalding from my neck down to my lower back. And then, lower… another crack, deeper and sharper as something new grew, ripping out of me. A jagged tail tore free, dragging along the ground, its weight registering in my mind like a coiled serpent ready to strike. It wasn’t just a tail. It was a weapon, a broad, barbed extension of myself, the bladed edges sharp as razors, hungry to split something, anything, in half.
I sensed her before I saw her. A soft footfall; Alex had arrived. Her breath hitched as she took in the scene before her, the hulking, twisted spider-creature in front of me, and then me, towering and dark, the Annihilator in flesh. My fanged mouth curved, bristling with the Primeval’s hunger, radiating dread and death. I could sense her hesitation, the quick flicker of doubt as she searched the monster, and then my form, waiting, uncertain of what to do next. And for a split second, I wondered if she even knew which one of the monsters she saw was me.
I threw myself forward, diving straight for the hulking spider-thing, my fists clenched tight as I tried to wrap my hands around his twisted form. But he was fast, just as fast as I was. With a swift, skittering sidestep, he dodged me, darting to the far end of the room and crawling up the wall with practiced ease. I grunted in frustration, and without thinking, launched myself after him, leaping up toward where he clung to the ceiling. But as soon as I reached him, he dropped, evading me with sickening agility. He wasn’t trying to fight me… he was trying to escape… to get out of my reach and into the protection of what lay deeper inside the titan’s corpse. I couldn’t let that happen.
I heard Alex from across the room, her own grunt of effort cutting through the heavy silence. She sprinted forward, throwing a powerful swing that smashed into one of his back leg joints. Her claws dug in deep, and with a satisfying crack, his leg collapsed, sending him crashing back to the ground. Now hobbled and his balance shattered, he let out a guttural, animalistic hiss. He spun toward her with a rage that reverberated in his throat. He reared up and swung his good legs at her, sending her flying backward like a ragdoll. Her body hit the dark wall with a brutal smack, the impact shuddering through her bones and organs before she even had a chance to catch herself.
In a split second, he lunged toward her, his intent clear in his eyes; he wanted her blood, and it was written in his twisted gaze that he’d tear her apart to get it. The Primeval’s thoughts imprinted over my own, giving me some kind of instinct about what it knew that I didn’t. It was easy to understand… Do not let him feed. End it quickly. But my own thoughts were more frantic, a singular urgency driving me forward. I had to reach him before… I couldn’t let him kill Alex.
Dropping from the ceiling, I plummeted like a meteor, aiming to intercept him, but he dodged again, shifting to my side while keeping his momentum toward her. But it wasn’t a total miss; my body twisted instinctively, swinging my bladed, spiked tail in a broad arc. The heavy stretch of new, sharp muscle connected with two of his legs, severing them completely. Black blood splattered across the floor, the limbs twitching uselessly as they lay detached, their nerve endings firing signals to nothing.
Now he could barely stand, only managing to drag his weight with the single leg he had left, scrabbling across the floor with his upper arms intact and desperate to keep moving. With one final, desperate lunge, he hurled himself toward Alex, and I mirrored his move, prepared to bury my talons in him and rip the life from his body.
As he reached her, he spoke, his voice hollow and urgent… but not to me. “He’s here. He’s inside. Send help,” he muttered, reaching Alex in a heartbeat, his voice thin and desperate.
Then, without hesitation, he thrust one of his bladed upper arms forward, the sharp edge piercing her through the chest and pinning her to the dark wood wall behind her. Alex’s scream tore through the room, raw and ragged, as she was lifted off the ground, her face twisting in agony, and the creature’s grip tightened. She let out a pained gasp, the jerking motion wrenching her body, a cruel testament to the force behind his attack.
Alex was powerful… a special breed of vampire, but even she wasn’t meant to face a creature like this. Not something that carried the sheer, ancient brutality of a Primeval, even if it had only stolen a sliver of that dark power. Judging by the twisted lines of age etched into the creature’s form, he had probably lived centuries longer than her at least.
His face contorted, a grotesque stretch of flesh and bone as his mouth twisted open. From his jaws, long, pincer-like fingers emerged, stretching outward with sickening anticipation. He lowered his head toward Alex, who was pinned and helpless, her body still in shock. She was clawing at the twisted bone shaft impaling her to the wall, her fingers scrabbling with a desperation that was painful to witness. She tried to wrench herself free, pulling against it with every ounce of strength, her movements wild, but the bone held fast, biting deeper the harder she tried.
I surged forward, every muscle coiled and driving me forward with all the strength I could muster. But he was already so close… close enough that I wasn’t sure I’d reach him before he tore her apart. His jaw unhinged, an inhuman gape, and the spidery fingers around his mouth fanned out, each clawed tip reaching toward her as he moved in for the kill, his intent to feed vibrating in the air.
The appetite in his eyes as he leaned toward her was pure, primal… a glimpse of the ancient, bloodthirsty beast… the Primeval of Hunger. It had no intention of letting its prey escape.