The curse of the hunted.

Chapter One

I had always felt there was something wrong with the world, something hiding in the cracks of everyday life. It wasn't a sensation most people acknowledged; they went about their lives with blinders on, oblivious to the things lurking in the shadows. But once you see them, you can't unsee them.

I blame Alaric for that. He'd always had a way of peeling back the layers of reality, exposing what shouldn't be visible to the human eye. I guess that's why I trusted him, even when he was cagey about his past.

We were on a narrow dirt road, a crumbling path that sliced through dense trees, heading to a town that wasn't on any map. The night air was heavy with mist, curling around the headlights of the black SUV Alaric had "borrowed." He was driving, his hands tight on the wheel, eyes narrowed as if they could pierce through the fog itself.

"You sure about this place?" I asked, adjusting the strap of the rifle slung across my shoulder. The vehicle's hum was the only response at first, the rhythmic bumping of tires against gravel filling the silence.

Alaric, as usual, took his time before answering.

"I'm sure," he finally said, his voice low. "But we shouldn't stay long. This town... it's more of a stop on the way than a destination."

"You mean a death trap," I muttered under my breath. I knew he heard me, but Alaric only smirked slightly, his bright blue eyes catching the dim light from the dashboard. His long, wavy hair framed his face in a way that made him look like he belonged to some older century, like a figure out of a forgotten myth. His dark coat brushed the edge of the seat, and for a moment, I wondered if he ever dressed for the time we were actually in.

The truth was, I didn't like being led into something blind. This wasn't the first time I'd been dragged into one of Alaric's missions without getting the full story. But then again, when you're a hunter, the full story usually ends up being worse than whatever you imagined.

"Tell me again why we're heading to a ghost town in the middle of nowhere?" I pushed.

Alaric sighed, as if explaining things to me was an unnecessary inconvenience. "There's something here. A nest, maybe. Reports of missing people, strange sightings. You know the drill."

"You mean, you know the drill. You always seem to know more than the rest of us."

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "I have my sources."

"Right." I let it drop. Pushing Alaric only made him retreat further, and that was the last thing we needed right now. Besides, his "sources" had saved us more than once. Still, there was something about his confidence that unnerved me. I had seen him face down horrors that would have driven most people insane, and he barely blinked.

The road narrowed until it was almost swallowed by the forest, and then we saw it—a flicker of light in the distance. The town was just ahead, though "town" was being generous. What we were approaching looked like the ghost of a settlement, its wooden buildings slouching inward, roofs sagging under the weight of age and neglect. The air was still, unnaturally so. Even the wind seemed to avoid this place.

Alaric slowed the SUV to a crawl as we entered the outskirts, pulling it to a stop beside what looked like an abandoned church. I glanced up at the towering structure, its steeple half-collapsed, windows shattered. It reeked of something ancient, something forgotten.

"This is it," Alaric murmured, killing the engine. He stared straight ahead, as if trying to see something only he could perceive. I could feel the weight of the place already, an oppressive energy that settled over me like a heavy blanket.