Two Hunters, from different worlds.

Chapter 11

I was running as fast as I could, my breath ragged, my muscles burning. But maybe running wasn’t the best option—maybe I should have looked for cover first or found a weapon to defend myself.

But this damned alien… He wasn’t giving me a chance. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down, and definitely wasn’t like Vor.

When I finally turned to face him, my stomach twisted in horror. He was massive, his skin as dark as the void, slashed with deep, jagged scars. His face was deformed, monstrous. And those eyes… Black, empty, yet filled with a hunger that reminded me of Reya’s stories—like the darkness itself watching, waiting, controlling.

I tried to speak, to reason with him, but he kept advancing, one step too close. He lunged. I barely dodged in time, instincts screaming at me to run. Where the hell was Vor when I needed him?

The forest around me was suffocatingly silent. The darkness was so thick it swallowed everything, even my frantic breathing. I strained to hear—nothing. He was hiding. Or worse, he was already in the trees, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and take my head.

This thing wasn’t here to talk. It wasn’t here to hunt for sport. No, he wanted a trophy. And that trophy was me.

His eyes weren’t normal. Not that I had seen many alien eyes, but his… they were ghostly. Wrong. Reya wouldn’t have told me to run if he wasn’t dangerous.

"DAMN IT! No, no, no—I'm screwed!" I shouted, hoping—praying—that Vor was nearby.

I skidded to a stop, my chest slamming into an invisible wall of panic. A waterfall. A raging, violent drop behind me. No way out.

And before I could turn, before I could even breathe, he was there. A shadow against the moonlight, towering, menacing—guns drawn.

"Look, I don’t know who you are, but surely we can—"

He moved.

I stepped back.

Too fast. Too strong. Fighting against men, against humans, was one thing. But this? My kicks wouldn’t even slow him down.

If I couldn’t fight, I had to be smart. I had to escape. Again.

But how much longer could I keep dodging before he finally caught me?

Then it hit me. He was tall. I was small. If I could get under him—

I ran straight at him, feigning a frontal attack. At the last second, I dropped, sliding beneath his legs. I almost made it.

Almost.

A searing pain shot through my scalp as my hair was yanked back, lifting me off the ground.

"AAAH! LET ME GO, YOU UGLY MOTHERFU—"

I screamed, kicked, thrashed—nothing. His grip was like iron, his claws digging into my scalp.

"Now that you are mine," his voice rasped, guttural, inhuman, "my master will be pleased to see you again."

That voice… It was like death itself.