Rudra awoke with a jolt, his chest heaving, sweat beading on his forehead. The remnants of a nightmare clung to his mind like a shroud, the haunting whisper of a truth he couldn't escape. “You can never have peace without strength.” The words echoed in his ears as he wiped his face, trying to shake off the unsettling dream.

"Just a dream," he muttered to himself, but the unease lingered. His gaze drifted to the darkened room, the quiet of the night broken only by the faint sound of the wind outside. He wasn't just here to escape nightmares; he was on a mission. To understand the true meaning of life. To grow stronger. It was the only way, the only path that could offer him what he truly sought. His father’s cold indifference and the loss of his motherly maid—whom he had loved—had shaped him into someone who knew that strength was the key to survival, to peace.

With that thought, he stood, slipping into the shadows of the pub’s entrance. He had come here for answers, but the cold truth was, he needed money. The gambling den in the back would serve both purposes.

Rudra’s eyes scanned the room. A handful of gamblers crowded around a table, their eyes fixed on the wheel of fortune. The air was thick with smoke, the clinking of coins, and the murmurs of risk and reward. But it wasn’t just the game that drew his attention—it was the subtle movements of one particular thug. The way his fingers flicked the ball so consistently, so precisely, that it could only be one thing: a magnet.

Rudra smirked, eyes narrowing as he observed. He waited, studying the rhythm of the game and the players, until the thug placed his bet on a specific number. Rudra followed, matching the same number with a calculated calmness.

The thug, his eyes narrowing as he noticed, leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his gaze. “Bet first,” he growled, his hand resting menacingly on the table.

Rudra’s lips curled into a calm smile. “I think I’ll take my leave,” he said, his voice cool and unbothered as he began to turn away.

But the thug wasn’t so easily dismissed. His hand shot out, gripping Rudra by the collar, yanking him back. “No. You’ll play.”

With a quiet chuckle, Rudra locked eyes with the thug. “Tell me, why are you so handsome?” he asked, his tone playful, his gaze shifting to the thug’s distracted eyes.

In that instant, as the thug blinked in confusion, Rudra seized the moment. With a fluid motion, he snatched the ball, spinning it effortlessly in his hand.

The thug scowled, but his arrogance remained. “Spin it. It doesn’t matter. The outcome’s already decided.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Rudra released the ball, watching it spin, his eyes never leaving the thug’s face. But to the thug’s surprise, the ball didn’t land on the number Rudra had chosen. It was a miss.

Before the thug could react, Rudra caught the ball mid-spin, tossing it aside as he looked up, his expression as calm as ever.

The thug's temper flared, and with a growl, he seized Rudra by the collar once more, lifting him off his feet. “What’s your trick, you little—”

Rudra’s lips twisted into a knowing smile. “Nobody knows everything,” he said, his voice steady, even in the face of danger.

But the thug wasn’t interested in games. His fist drove into Rudra’s stomach, a fatal blow that sent the air rushing from his lungs. Rudra’s vision blurred, but he remained standing, his gaze unwavering.

Just then, a sharp whistle cut through the air. A knife flew from the shadows, embedding itself in the wooden table next to the thug with a loud crack.

“Leave him alone.”

The voice was low, chilling—cold enough to freeze the thug in place. He turned, and his confidence faltered. The figure who had spoken was barely visible in the dim light, but his presence was overwhelming, suffocating the air around him.

The thug took one last look at Rudra, then sighed, backing away slowly, his shoulders slumped in reluctant defeat. Without another word, he stumbled out of the den, leaving the tension hanging in the air.

Rudra, still recovering from the blow, felt the weight of his breath return when a loud, slurred voice broke the silence.

“You were here to take me?” The man staggered into the room, eyes bleary from drink. His expression was both amused and confused. “But why is it, every damn time, I’m the one taking you?”

Before Rudra could respond, the man reached down, effortlessly hoisting him by the arm and tossing him over his shoulder like a ragdoll. Rudra didn’t resist; the man’s strength was undeniable.

Slowly, the man turned, walking out of the den with Rudra draped across his shoulder. The journey ahead was unclear, but Rudra’s thoughts were already racing, trying to piece together what would come next.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Rudra's hand. He gasped, jerking it back instinctively, but it was too late. The biting force was relentless, cold, and agonizing. His skin was pierced, and he could feel something—sharp teeth or claws—sink deeper into his flesh, pulling at his veins.

"Shit!" Rudra cursed, stumbling backward. The darkness around him seemed to move, shifting unnaturally. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to focus on the source of the attack, but all he could see were vague, shifting shadows closing in from every direction.

His free hand went instinctively to the wound, but the more he tried to pull away, the deeper the pain became. He couldn't make out the creature—just the intense feeling of something large and predatory, too fast to catch a glimpse of. Then, the realization hit him like a cold wave.

"These are... shadow beasts," he whispered under his breath, his voice tight with panic. The creatures that thrived in the darkness, made of shadow and night, relentless and deadly. And now one had him in its grip.

The shadow around him seemed to tighten, swirling and moving with an eerie energy, as if responding to his realization. The pressure around him intensified, and he could feel the shadows wrapping themselves around his limbs, pulling him deeper into the darkness.

~ Boil 'O Mash

Wait for next chapter guys! lets meet the next week, by the way I'll try to reduce usage of ai and try to improve my writing skills. also need an artist, If this is worth it, I'll try to look into it.