Blood hunt

Alex stumbled back from the glass chamber, heart hammering, eyes locked on the floating body—his own face staring back at him in lifeless stillness.

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"This isn't real," he gasped. "This can't be real."

But the soft pulsing glow of the glass coffins around them whispered otherwise. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and something ancient… wrong. Symbols scrawled in red chalk glimmered beneath their feet—runes of binding, of resurrection.

Adam grabbed his arm. "Alex, we need to go."

But Sabastin stepped forward, boots clicking slowly on the concrete floor, hands folded behind his back. His voice was smooth, ancient, and absolute.

"You are the culmination of centuries, Alexander. My greatest work. My blood runs in your veins, along with the blood of kings, monsters, and gods long forgotten."

Alex shook his head violently. "No. I'm not your creation. I'm my own person."

"You were," Sabastin corrected, baring the edges of his fangs. "But the moment you drank from that vial… you chose. You've already begun to change. I can smell the hunger on you."

Alex's body tensed. His throat burned. A sharp pressure was building behind his eyes, and a dull ache throbbed in his gums—right where his canines sat. He could almost feel them stretching.

"I won't be your puppet," he snarled. "I'd rather die human than live as your monster.

Sabastin smiled—not with amusement, but with cold certainty. "You're no longer human."

And then Alex ran

He shoved past Adam, bolted out of the lab, and tore through the darkened hallways of Whitmoor like a hunted animal. His breath came in sharp gasps, but his legs moved too fast—unnaturally fast.

He didn't stop until he burst out into the cold night, the stone walls of the school looming behind him like the jaws of a great beast. He stumbled toward the tree line at the edge of the school grounds and collapsed against the trunk of a dead oak.

His hands were trembling.

No—they were changing.

Veins bulged like vines across his skin, pulsing dark. His fingernails had grown longer, sharper. His reflection in a cracked phone screen nearby showed his eyes glowing faintly gold, his pupils slitted like a cat's.

"What's happening to me?" he whispered.

The craving hit again.

That unbearable thirst. That aching need to feed, to bite, to drink. It roared through his mind like a scream in a tunnel. He bit his lip until blood ran down his chin, just to stop himself from sprinting back into the school and tearing someone open.

"Fight it," he muttered. "Fight it…"

But the blood in his veins had other ideas.

Adam found him there, an hour later.

Alex was curled up under the tree, his hoodie pulled over his face, his body shaking violently.

"Alex," Adam called softly, approaching. "Hey… hey man, it's me."

Alex looked up slowly, eyes hollow. "I'm turning, Adam."

"I know," Adam said, crouching beside him. "But you're still you."

"I don't think I am anymore."

Adam placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then run. If you can't stop the change, then don't give it to him. Don't give Sabastin what he wants."

"But where do I run to?" Alex whispered. "What if there's no escape?"

"There's always somewhere," Adam said. "And I'll come with you."

Alex stared at his friend for a long, silent moment. Then he nodded.

By midnight, they had packed some essentials from Adam's house—hoodies, clothes, a bit of cash. Alex's mum had called earlier, but he hadn't picked up. He couldn't face her. Not now. Not while his mouth still tasted like blood.

They slipped away under cover of fog, moving through back roads and alleys, avoiding streetlights like criminals.

As they passed an old church on the edge of Whitmoor, Alex paused.

His skin stung.

He hissed in pain as he drew closer to the wrought-iron gate—it had a cross embedded in it. His hand recoiled from the metal as if it had burned him.

"Holy symbols," he muttered, flexing his fingers. "They hurt now…"

Adam watched, silent.

"Sabastin didn't just tamper with science," Alex said. "He tampered with souls."

They moved on, disappearing into the night.

But as the town faded behind them, they didn't know…

That Sabastin had already begun the hunt.

He stood on the roof of the school, eyes glowing like dying stars. Below him, the glass coffins in his lab began to shudder. One cracked. Then another.

A low growl echoed in the dark.

His creations were waking up.

He whispered to the night, "Run as far as you want, my prince. The blood will always bring you back."

And then he vanished into mist.