Chapter 4 – The First Taste of Blood
The Mortal World is dull. Too peaceful. Too predictable.
But today… today was different.
It started with a scent.
Not the warm, lingering sadness that surrounded Elara.
Not the faint, restless anxiety of the students.
No.
This was sharper. Darker.
Blood.
It was after school when I sensed it.
The bell had rung. Students flooded the hallways, laughing, chatting, alive with their useless emotions. But beneath all of that… I felt it.
A ripple in the air. A disturbance.
The scent led me outside, behind the school. A narrow alleyway, tucked between two old walls. The kind of place people ignored.
And there—
A boy. Curled up on the ground, hands clutching his stomach. His breathing was ragged. Blood stained his uniform.
Three others stood over him. Smirking.
Pathetic.
Bullies.
Typical human trash.
I leaned against the wall, watching. My body tensed.
Their emotions reached me—aggression, amusement, a little fear. But the boy on the ground… his emotions were different.
Despair.
The deep kind. The kind that didn't cry for help anymore.
I stepped forward.
The moment my shadow fell over them, the tallest one turned.
"Mind your own business," he said.
I stared at him. Silent. Expressionless.
That was enough to make him shift uncomfortably.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue, then raised his fist. "Get lost, hero."
He threw a punch.
Slow. Predictable. Weak.
I caught his wrist mid-air.
His face twisted in shock. "What the—?"
Before he could finish, I twisted his arm—just enough to send a message.
He gasped in pain.
The other two moved toward me.
My fingers twitched. My body… reacted.
For the first time since I arrived in this world, I felt it. A flicker of something old.
Power.
It surged in my veins, fueled by their negativity. My senses sharpened. My strength returned.
I let go of the leader's arm. He stumbled back, cursing.
"What the hell is with this guy?" one of the others muttered.
The third one hesitated. "Let's just go."
Cowards.
They grabbed their wounded pride and disappeared.
I turned to the boy on the ground.
He looked up at me. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to speak. But he didn't.
I stared down at him.
A part of me considered walking away.
But then I remembered Elara.
How she stood in the rain, drowning in emotions no one else saw.
And I realized—this boy had that same look in his eyes.
I sighed. "Can you stand?"
He flinched. Then, slowly, he nodded.
I offered my hand.
For a moment, he hesitated. Then, weakly, he took it.
His skin was cold.
His blood smelled strong.
I swallowed. My instincts stirred. My fangs ached.
I let go.
Too dangerous.
"Go," I said. "Before they come back."
He nodded quickly and stumbled away.
As I watched him disappear down the street, I clenched my fists.
The power I felt during the fight was already fading.
I needed more.
More emotions.
More negativity.
Because this world may have taken my full strength…
But I'd find a way to take it back.
But I'd find a way to take it back.