Sunrise

The moon still shone brightly over the clearing, clouds creeping slowly like a curtain about to fall. Indra and Ben knew every second was precious. They limped toward the lit edge, where the tallest pines stretched their crowns skyward.

Indra leaned Ben against the thickest trunk. His own arm throbbed with pain, but he tried to ignore the burning sensation deep in the cut. With a flashlight hanging around his neck, he scanned the branches above: there were spots they could climb, but the risk was enormous—any fall would be fatal, and they were weak.

"Ben, listen," Indra whispered, alert to the sounds of the forest. "You'll have to follow me closely. Use your legs, not your arms. I'll climb first and help you up."

Ben nodded, breathing hard. His head spun, the gauze bandage already stained with blood. They began the climb: Indra hauled himself up, planting his feet in cracks in the bark. With each movement, the cut on his forearm reopened, blood dripping onto the pine roots below. Ben followed behind, groaning softly, fingers slipping on the sticky sap of the trunk.

A roar echoed beneath them, so close it froze them in place. Among the trees, the creature paced in circles within the darkness. They saw only a colossal silhouette, moving with restrained fury. But whenever it got too close, the moonlight held it back—like an invisible barrier keeping it outside the silver circle.

"It's waiting…" Ben whispered, gasping. "Waiting for the moon to disappear…"

"Then we have to be faster than the clouds," Indra growled, his jaw clenched in pain.

With every meter they climbed, the wind shook them, threatening to throw them down. The rustling leaves sounded like a crowd whispering terrible things. Moonlight wrapped around them, casting pale reflections on the tears of fear rolling down Ben's cheeks.

When they reached a thick branch about five meters up, Indra helped Ben sit, braced against the trunk. From up here, they could see the whole lit clearing—the destroyed tents, gear scattered like bones of a carcass. Outside the circle of light, shadows pulsed with the creature's presence, pacing back and forth like a predator held only by a leash of moonlight.

Indra drew the revolver from the makeshift holster at his waist. His hand trembled. With his other hand, he gripped Ben's shoulders.

"You're going to hold on?"

He asked, staring at his friend with intensity.

Ben gave a weak smile, eyes glistening.

"Only if you do."

Indra returned the smile briefly but didn't take his eyes off the shadows. The monstrous, silent creature was only waiting for the moon to vanish to invade the clearing and finish what it had started.

High in the pine, they both breathed fast, hearts racing, every cold gust carrying the scent of blood and impending death. They knew the moon wouldn't stay forever—but as long as it shone, they had a chance.

And so, caught between branches and fear, they waited for the night's next move.

---

The moonlight still illuminated the clearing like a lifeline, but clouds piled up on the horizon, slowly advancing like a dark tide. The wind grew colder, carrying the metallic smell of the blood dripping from Indra and Ben's wounds.

Up in the pine, they were already trembling from weakness. The makeshift bandage on Indra's arm was soaked through with blood. Ben's head throbbed so much he could barely keep his eyes open. Hunger was draining their strength; every movement felt like their bodies were breaking apart.

A growl echoed through the forest. Then another sound, different this time: something like bones snapping, wood breaking. The creature let out a deafening roar, but it wasn't alone—another sound, lower and hoarser, like something equally monstrous, reverberated through the trees.

They felt the pine shake with the impacts of the beasts fighting in the shadows. Branches snapped to the ground, dark blood splattered the leaves. With every roar, the forest seemed to shudder, and even the moon, once serene, flickered under the encroaching clouds.

"You… you hear that, right?"

Ben whispered, voice barely audible. His lips were pale, and he clung to the trunk as if it was his only anchor against fainting.

Indra nodded, straining to see through the trees. The creature chasing them limped briefly into the circle of light: its back was torn open, flesh gaping in deep wounds, and one broken horn hung crookedly to the side.

"This is our chance…" Indra murmured, drawing the revolver with the last silver bullet. His arm shook so badly he could barely hold the gun.

"If we can hit her heart, we end this."

Ben inhaled sharply, trying to ignore the dizziness making the world spin.

"But the clouds… they're coming…" he pointed to the sky: the moon was gradually being covered by gray veils, growing thicker.

Indra looked up, sweat mixing with blood running down his face. The moonlight still bathed the clearing, but dense shadows danced on the edges as the clouds advanced, slowly covering the only protection they had.

"I'm going to need you to cover me," Indra said, trying to keep his voice steady. "If she senses we're going to attack, she'll try to run or kill us first."

Ben just nodded, breathing hard. His eyes shone with fear—and determination.

The creature roared in pain once more. She was on her knees, chest heaving as black blood dripped onto the ground. It was now or never.

Indra positioned himself on the branch, aiming carefully. His arm burned like fire, his vision blurred. The moon, not yet fully covered, cast a sharp silhouette of the monster—but the clouds pressed on, threatening to plunge everything into darkness at any moment.

The wind howled louder, branches creaked. They didn't know who or what had wounded the creature, but if they didn't act fast, the last silver bullet would be useless.

Indra swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and aimed for the creature's chest—right where he knew the heart was.

The moon flickered, struggling to shine through the clouds.

They had seconds before the night swallowed them whole.

Indra gripped the revolver with trembling hands, sweat mixed with blood dripping from his chin. He had the creature in his sights, breathing hard at the edge of the moonlit clearing. This was the chance they had been waiting for.

But then, with a sudden animalistic burst, the creature rose onto its hind legs and dashed into the forest, limping but as fast as a shadow blur. The sound of breaking branches echoed until it faded into the night.

"No…"

Indra whispered desperately, lowering his weapon. Silence returned—heavy and suffocating. The moonlight still held strong, but the clouds were already licking the edges of the moon like hungry predators.

Ben, pale and trembling, could hold on no longer. His arms slipped off the blood-soaked pine trunk.

"Indra… I… I can't anymore…" he said, voice breaking. Then, with a snap, his grip gave way.

Indra stretched out his injured arm, but it was too late.

"BEN!" he screamed, watching helplessly as his friend fell.

The sound of the fall was terrible: a dry crack of breaking bones echoed through the clearing, followed by a scream so sharp it froze Indra's heart. He watched as Ben writhed on the ground, each movement causing more sickening cracks.

The trees stirred, warning them they were not alone. The creature emerged from the shadows, its body covered in blood, eyes glowing with maddened hunger. It dragged itself toward Ben, who screamed in agony.

"NO!" Indra yelled as the creature bit into Ben's trunk and pulled him into the darkness. The last sound was a piercing howl, fading as the forest swallowed everything.

Indra trembled, breath failing him. The pain of loss crushed his chest, nearly causing him to faint right there. "Sorry… Ben…" he whispered.

"I… I swear I'll kill that thing…"

At that moment, a strange breeze swept across the clearing—cold yet oddly comforting. A soft white light, gentle as moonlight, began to surround Indra. He felt his strength return, muscles firming, pain easing, as if something—or someone—was revitalizing him. The energy was faint but pulsed with determination, filling every inch of his exhausted body.

This energy didn't come from outside. It wasn't magic cast upon him, nor a blessing from some distant god. It was something awakening within Indra, like a hidden flame in his chest finally igniting—turning exhaustion into power, pain into pure rage.

Indra's eyes snapped open, clearer now, burning with fury and grief. He raised the revolver, loaded with the last remaining silver bullet. Down below, the moonlight still shone, but clouds crept relentlessly, covering half the moon. The creature lurked at the edge of the clearing's shadows, circling like a vulture, waiting for the final light to vanish so it could strike.

"Come on, bastard…" Indra growled, steadying his grip. "Come so I can finish this."

The wind picked up. The moon flickered. The final battle was about to begin.

He jumped from the tree, rolling on the ground to soften the landing. Though wounded, his body responded with supernatural precision. From his jacket pocket, he pulled out the military knife he always carried. In his other hand, he grabbed the torch lighter he used to light campfires—the blue flames danced in his fist, illuminating his determined eyes.

The creature lunged from the shadows, growling with hatred, each step cracking branches. Indra quickly lit a makeshift torch with twigs soaked in alcohol from his first aid kit. The flames lit up the clearing, casting monstrous shadows.

The creature hesitated—fire made it recoil. Seizing the moment, Indra swung the knife, slicing deeply into the beast's arm, black blood spraying and sizzling upon contact with the flames. A roar shattered the night, shaking Indra's heart, but he stood firm.

Indra struck again, using the torch as a flaming whip to keep the creature at bay. At a critical moment, the beast leapt onto him, but Indra rolled aside, feeling the white energy surge inside him, speeding his reflexes beyond human limits.

"YOU SON OF A—!" he shouted, driving the knife deep into the creature's ribs and twisting the blade. They fell together to the ground, the beast thrashing, claws slashing inches from his face.

The creature struggled to rise, bleeding from many wounds, but its predatory gaze never faltered. Indra was battered too: jacket torn, arm throbbing, body bruised. Yet his eyes held something new—a fierce glow fueled by the same energy pulsing like a second heart within him.

The moon still shone between the clouds now nearly covering it entirely. Silver light bathed both Indra and the creature, both gasping, knowing the end was near. The next move would seal one of their fates.

They stared each other down, motionless, gathering strength for the final blow.

The moon flickered behind a veil of clouds, leaving just a sliver of silver light on the clearing. In that frozen moment, man and monster were equally on the brink of death—ready to decide who would survive until sunrise.

The silence between Indra and the creature was louder than any roar. Every breath felt like a knife in the chest. The moon was seconds from vanishing completely, its light reduced to a thin silver thread. Indra's legs wavered, vision blurred from pain and blood loss, but the white energy kept burning inside him—a spark of pure determination.

The creature, though shredded, summoned its last strength and lunged with a savage leap, claws raised to tear Indra apart. He raised his trembling arm and, at the exact moment the moon disappeared behind the clouds, pulled the trigger.

The flash of the shot cut through the darkness like lightning.

The silver bullet tore through the air and struck the creature's heart dead center. The monster let out a piercing howl that echoed through the entire forest, reverberating like a dark thunderclap. Its body shuddered violently before collapsing heavily to the ground. At that same moment, the clouds fully covered the moon, plunging the clearing into darkness.

Indra dropped to his knees, exhausted. The energy sustaining him flickered out like a flame in the wind. He breathed heavily, the taste of blood in his mouth, as the warmth of the sun began coloring the horizon with golden hues.

Slow footsteps echoed through the forest, firm and purposeful. A tall figure appeared between the trees, dressed in black tactical gear reminiscent of special forces. Her short black hair swayed gently in the morning breeze. One detail impossible to miss: a long demon tail flicked behind her with the ease of someone born with it.

Her eyes—one steel-blue, the other emerald green—shone with surprise as she saw the creature's dead body—and the fallen youth beside it.

"You… killed that all by yourself?" she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Her voice was firm, almost military, but there was a tone of… surprise. Respect.

She knelt beside Indra. He tried to speak, but only blood came out.

"You went beyond what anyone expected…"

"But it's not your time to die yet."

Indra caught a final glimpse of her face—cold, calculating, yet somehow… protective.

"I'm taking you to the Esoteric Society."

And then everything faded into darkness.