The Hunters Arrive

Damian's breath caught in his throat.

The voice on the other side of the door was steady, commanding, and inhumanly calm.

"Damian Voss. Open the door."

His mind screamed no.

Every instinct told him that whoever—or whatever—was standing in the hallway wasn't here to talk.

The apartment felt too quiet, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. Damian's pulse pounded as he slowly backed away from the door, careful not to make a sound.

Another knock. Harder this time.

"We know you're in there."

Damian clenched his fists, his body trembling. He needed to think. If they were already here, running wasn't an option. But neither was answering the door.

A new sound sent his stomach dropping.

The doorknob turned.

Locked.

Damian exhaled sharply. Thank God.

Then, a soft metallic click.

The lock unlatched.

His heart nearly stopped.

How?

He hadn't moved. He hadn't touched the door. But the lock had undone itself.

The handle began to turn.

Move, Damian.

His body reacted before his mind could catch up. He bolted toward the kitchen, grabbing the first thing within reach—a knife from the countertop. His grip was slick with sweat, his breath uneven.

The door creaked open.

A figure stepped inside.

Tall. Dressed in black. His face was eerily smooth, his features sharp yet unnervingly empty. His eyes—dark, endless voids—locked onto Damian.

Behind him, two more figures entered, moving with the same unnatural stillness.

They weren't human.

Damian's fingers tightened around the knife. His instincts screamed at him to fight, but deep down, he knew—a blade wouldn't be enough.

The first figure took a slow step forward.

"There is no need to resist," he said, voice like ice. "Come with us."

Damian's chest heaved. "Who the hell are you?"

The figure tilted his head slightly. "We are the ones who maintain the balance."

His blood ran cold.

The Elders.

The name tore through his mind like an unspoken nightmare.

"You have been marked," the man continued. "Your blood calls to the old ways. You will come with us."

Damian's hands trembled. "And if I don't?"

The man's expression didn't change.

"Then you die here."

A heavy silence fell between them.

Damian's mind raced. If they had gotten in so easily, what chance did he have?

Then—

A whisper.

Soft. Barely audible. But inside his head.

"Run to the fire escape. Now."

Damian's breath hitched. That voice. It wasn't his own.

Before he could second-guess himself, his body moved.

He pivoted, hurling the knife at the first figure. It wouldn't kill him, but it would buy him time.

The blade never hit.

The figure snatched it out of the air without flinching.

But Damian was already running.

He sprinted toward the window, grabbing a chair and smashing it through the glass. The sharp crack shattered the silence, and cold air rushed in.

The figures moved. Fast.

But Damian was faster.

He lunged out onto the fire escape, metal groaning beneath his weight. Down. He had to go down.

His feet slammed against the iron steps, descending as fast as he could. His lungs burned, adrenaline screaming through his veins.

Above him, the figures reached the window.

One stepped onto the ledge—and leapt.

Damian's stomach dropped.

The man landed on the railing below with inhuman ease, cutting off his path.

No hesitation. Damian threw himself over the side.

The ground rushed toward him. His arms burned as he caught a lower railing, barely avoiding a deadly fall. His grip almost slipped, but he gritted his teeth and pulled himself over.

Then—

A voice.

"This way!"

Damian's head snapped to the alley below.

A man stood in the shadows.

Dark coat. Piercing eyes. An undeniable presence.

Damian didn't think—he just jumped.

The stranger caught him.

The moment Damian's feet hit the ground, the man pulled him into the darkness.

Above, the figures watched from the fire escape, their faces void of emotion.

The stranger didn't slow down. His grip on Damian's wrist was ironclad.

"Who the hell are you?" Damian gasped, struggling to keep up.

The man didn't answer.

But Damian already knew.

"Lucian."