GENESIS

—>SEBASTIAN'S POV<—

Kenner's elegant scenery and alluring scent remained unchanged since my last visit. Yet my mind wandered to a darker history, one that unfolded thousands of years ago. Humans were once living in harmony with nature. However, a group of rogue Druids sought to disrupt this delicate balance. Through their dark rituals, they managed to introduce Vampires, Werewolves, and other malevolent creatures to our world. These beings brought chaos and destruction, shattering the peace that reigned on Earth. 

Not quite after, another group of Druids emerged, determined to restore the balance of nature. Seeking to eradicate the evil that had been unleashed, they devised a forbidden ritual to create a powerful predator. I was the product of this dark experiment, engineered to destroy the Vampires, Werewolves, and other malevolent creatures that plagued Earth. The Druids were aware that their plan was fraught with peril, as using evil to destroy evil would not eradicate it entirely. Moreover, they knew that I, the embodiment of their creation, would remain a threat even after completing my mission. Therefore, they planned to eliminate me once my purpose had been fulfilled.

Upon discovering their intention, I showed no mercy and eliminated them, as they were the only ones who knew the secret to destroying me. But this act marked the beginning of my descent into madness. I sank deeper into the abyss, reveling in the chaos. I slaughtered thousands of monsters, and the thrill of the kill consumed me. Had my actions been limited to ridding the world of those abominations, I might have been hailed as a hero. However, my ruthless methods, which often involved harming innocent humans, earned me the notorious sobriquet— The Warangal.

The tracks of my newest prey lured me into Kenner. A Werewolf, responsible for the gruesome murders of nine humans in Gretna, was my target. My brown eyes locked onto the French doors, their ornate ironwork and panes of beveled glass offering a glimpse into the warm and inviting interior. The soft glow of table lamps and the gentle hum of conversation created a cozy ambiance, a stark contrast to the darkness that drove me.

The night was dark, yet its beauty was undeniable. My black Italian shoes clicked along the streets as I savored the town's scenery; from the grand stone buildings to the sleek cars gliding through the darkness. It might have seemed like I was in no hurry to hunt my prey, but I was a patient predator; a trait ingrained in me since my creation. 

My prey was Randall, an Alpha Werewolf who had lost his Pack to a Vampire's brutality. Werewolves typically weren't a significant threat to mankind, except during the full moon or when their sanity unraveled. Randall, as my research indicated, was once a man of honor, but the destruction of his Pack had shattered his mind. Despite his tragic fall, he had taken the lives of nine humans, sealing his fate. He still had to die.

There wasn't much difference between me and the Seraphlings; as we both hunted monsters, except that they spared those who were kind, whereas I did not. A Seraphling typically possessed five runes, each enhancing a distinct physical ability; speed, strength, hearing, smell, and vision. Only a select few possessed more. They had established tens of guilds worldwide, shouldering the responsibility of protecting humanity from demonic creatures. Armed with divine weapons, they commanded respect and inspired fear throughout the supernatural community.

A pungent smell wafted into my nostrils, drawing me to a dimly lit alleyway off Airline Drive. There, I found the aftermath of a horrific attack; a teenage boy brutally mauled. As I arrived, the stench of blood and torn flesh assaulted my senses, heavy with the scent of death. The atmosphere was oppressive, weighing heavily on my senses.

I stood there, watching as the police cordoned off the alleyway. The alleyway itself was foreboding, its towering buildings looming above me like sentinels. Rough brick walls seemed to close in around me, casting long, ominous shadows on the ground. As I lightly trailed my fingers over the wall, the coarse texture of the bricks grazed my fingertips. My gaze swept the area, taking in every detail.

I maintained a safe distance, observing as the police worked to process the scene. Forensic experts carefully collected evidence, while officers methodically searched for clues. As the police continued their investigation, I began to canvass the area, seeking any sign of the Werewolf responsible for the attack. Suddenly, I caught a whiff of something familiar; the exact scent I'd picked up in Gretna. My instincts confirmed it; the scent belonged to Randall.

Tracking Randall by scent wasn't impossible, but it would deplete some of my energy. With no other choice, I made the decision to pursue him. I followed the scent, my senses on high alert as I navigated the winding streets of Kenner. The smell grew stronger, a pungent mix of sweat and blood. It led me out of the city and into the surrounding forest, where the air was heavy with the scent of decaying leaves.

In my zeal to eradicate the vermin, I surrendered to my powers, letting bloodlust consume me. The world around me dissolved into a vibrant haze. I sprinted forward, my black shoes pounding the ground in rapid succession. My eyes, shining bright with an unearthly silver hue, remained fixed on the road ahead, piercing through the haze of speed. Trees whizzed by in a kaleidoscope of colors, their details obscured by the velocity.

The trees loomed around me, their branches creaking ominously in the wind. Every step I took echoed through the forest, the rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs beneath my shoes amplifying my senses. The thrill of the hunt coursed through my veins like adrenaline.

As I rounded the corner, the wind carried the sound of hushed voices, their urgency palpable. I approached cautiously, scanning the scene before me. That's when I saw them; a group of Seraphlings surrounding my prey.

Their sleek black uniforms seemed to blend with the shadows, adorned with subtle silver accents that shimmered in the fading light. Fitted jackets with high collars were paired with matching pants and boots, creating an air of formidable unity. A silver pin on each lapel bore the symbol of the Seraphlings: a stylized wing motif that embodied their celestial name.