The Devil's Hunt

The town of Hollow awoke to a crimson dawn. The sky was painted in hues of blood and ash, the air thick with an unnatural stillness. It was as if the town itself knew what was coming.

Isaac Grimm stood at the edge of the woods, his figure shrouded in shadow. His breathing was steady, his hands slick with dried blood. The dagger at his side pulsed faintly, its dark energy seeping into his skin.

He no longer felt guilt. No hesitation. The line between man and monster had been erased, replaced with a single, driving purpose: to hunt.

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The Beginning of the End

The first house was an easy target. A family of three—two parents and a child—living on the outskirts of Hollow. Isaac watched them through the window, their laughter grating against the darkness in his mind.

He entered the house without a sound, the door creaking faintly as it closed behind him.

The father turned first, his face twisting in confusion. “Who—”