There are worse things than Mondays

Aell Truman POV

The wall loomed ahead, a stark reminder of the barriers between civilization and chaos. Tommy's body felt light in my arms—too light. Half of him was missing, after all. Blood dripped steadily onto the ground, leaving a trail behind us. Each drop echoed in my enhanced hearing, a rhythm that matched the erratic heartbeats of the addicts hiding in the shadows.

They emerged from the alleyways like ghosts, drawn by the scent of beast blood that clung to my skin. Their eyes were wild, pupils blown wide with hunger. I could see every detail of their faces now—the way their muscles twitched, the slight elevation in their body temperature, the desperate tremors in their hands.

My vision split and expanded, wrapping around me in a perfect circle. I could see everything. Every movement. Every breath. Every bead of sweat rolling down their necks. The world existed in temperature gradients and motion, a constant stream of information that should have been overwhelming but felt natural.

The first addict lunged forward, and something inside me shifted. A cold, familiar sensation spread through my body—the same detached focus I'd felt as a snake. My pupils dilated, and suddenly the world slowed down.

I didn't move. I didn't need to. The intent alone was enough. It rolled off me in waves, an invisible force that made the addicts freeze mid-step. Their hearts raced faster—I could hear each terrified beat. Their body temperatures dropped as fear took hold. One by one, they backed away, disappearing into the alleys they'd emerged from.

I continued walking, Tommy's body cradled against my chest. The streets fell silent, as I released what I could only call my intent to devour. Even the usual sounds of the slums seemed muted, as if the whole sector was holding its breath.

Our house appeared ahead, unchanged despite everything that had happened. It felt wrong somehow, that the world could remain so normal when everything else had shifted so dramatically, my year as a beast, was it for nothing?. I stopped at the door, gently laying Tommy's body on the ground.

"Sorry," I whispered, my voice rough. "I'll pick you up again soon."

Inside, I could hear them before I saw them. Six heartbeats belonging to the rest of the hunters, steady and strong. Dozens more rapid, lighter ones—the kids, excited and carefree. They were playing cards, their laughter a stark contrast to the weight in my chest.

I pushed open the door. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at me. I saw their reactions in perfect detail—the widening of eyes, the subtle shifts in posture, the microscopic changes in their expressions as they took in my blood-covered appearance.

James sat in his usual spot, his bad leg propped up. His heart rate increased slightly when he saw me, but his face remained neutral.

"The kids need to go to their rooms," I said, my voice carrying a cold authority I'd never possessed before.

The children hesitated, looking between me and the hunters. Some of them started to protest, but in the end they went quiet and left, even Jess the nosiest of the bunch. Maybe it was the blood. Maybe it was the way I stood, too still, too focused. Or maybe they sensed the same thing the addicts had—that I wasn't quite the same Aell who'd left that morning.

"Now," I added, and this time they moved, filing out of the room with unusual quietness.

Once they were gone, I went back outside. Tommy's body was exactly where I'd left it, growing cold in the evening air. I lifted him again, this time bringing him through the doorway.

The hunters stood as one, hands moving to their weapons. They could smell it now—the beast blood that had soaked into my skin, mixed with Tommy's. Their hearts raced, temperatures rising with adrenaline.

I laid Tommy's body on the table, careful to arrange what was left of him with dignity. His face was still peaceful, as if he'd simply fallen asleep.

James hadn't moved from his chair, but I could hear his heart pounding now, see the tears welling up in his tear ducts before they became visible to normal eyes. His body temperature fluctuated wildly as he fought to maintain control.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice cold and steady despite the frantic hormones I could sense in his body.

I looked at him, really looked at him with my new vision. I saw the way his muscles tensed, the slight tremor in his hands, the rapid dilation and contraction of his pupils as he stared at Tommy's mutilated body. I saw the father beneath the leader, the man beneath the survivor.

And for the first time since my transformation back to human form, I felt something crack in my detached composure. Because how could I tell him? How could I explain that I'd watched his first son—our brother—die? That I'd avenged him, yes, but then... then I'd done something unforgivable. I'd eaten a beast meat, one of the few rules imposed on us.

The other hunters waited, their heartbeats pressured and labored. They'd hunted with Tommy, trained with him, trusted him. And now he was gone.

James was still waiting for an answer, his tears finally spilling over, leaving trails of heat that my enhanced vision tracked down his cheeks. He deserved the truth. They all did. But as I opened my mouth to speak, I realized that the truth wasn't something I fully understood myself.

The hunger stirred in the back of my mind, growing constantly but I pushed it back down, my time as a snake helping me keep myself in check.

But I wasn't the snake anymore. I didn't know what I was, or who I was? And as I stood there, surrounded by the people who'd been my family, I began to explain.

"There was a beast," I began, my enhanced vision capturing every minute reaction to my words."A feral rank. Tom and I fought it but..."

The room grew colder as I spoke, or maybe it was just that I could feel the temperature drop with every word.

James covered his face with one hand, his head dropping forward. Tears fell freely now. The other hunters broke down in their own ways—some collapsing into chairs, others staring upward, all of them radiating waves of heat and sorrow that my new senses couldn't ignore.

One final truth remained.

"I ate the beast."

James's whisper came thick with tears. "Get out, before the kids come back."

I nodded, knowing any words would ring hollow. I turned and walked out, the door creaking shut behind me. My bow and quiver hung on my back, Tommy's knife at my belt. My vision fixed on the wall separating us from Section 2, the only place where I could gain answers, or at least I hoped it would. 

As I started to walk towards the wall the hunger kept on growing and growing, clawing at my mind. "I'm hungry."