Monster

Weeks had slipped by in a slow, steady rhythm with the Chasses, each day blending seamlessly into the next as I settled into the routine of a life that was far more mundane than I ever thought I'd find myself living. After accepting their offer, I threw myself into the work at CWT Construction, taking on whatever tasks Carter handed me. I fell into a routine that made me feel… normal. I cherished it.

By day, I found myself doing odd jobs around the business, running errands, picking up supplies, and occasionally handling tasks that were better kept off the books. Carter had been clear about that last part; some things simply weren’t meant to leave a paper trail. He gave me the choice: a legitimate paycheck or cash under the table. The decision was easy. Cash meant fewer questions, fewer strings, and less of my information floating around on office paperwork.

To my surprise, the cash started piling up faster than I expected. It wasn’t long before I realized I had more money than I knew what to do with. The bills accumulated in a corner of my factory until they threatened to spill over from a glass jar I was jamming them into. If some drifter stumbled upon my stash, they’d be set for months, maybe even years depending on their drinking habits. I ended up buying an old motorcycle, a solid, no-nonsense machine that got me from place to place without drawing too much attention. It was the perfect cover, and just the answer to my transportation problem. Now, no one questioned how I got around throughout the city. I could come and go as I pleased.

Day after day, I put on the mask of an ordinary worker, blending into the background of the construction sites. At one particular project, an up-and-coming subdivision in north county, I found myself working alongside the crew, laying cement for foundations. There was something almost therapeutic about the repetitive nature of the work—mix, pour, spread, repeat. It was a far cry from the chaos I was used to, but there was a quiet satisfaction in the monotony. The sun would rise, we’d clock in, spend the day sweating and grumbling over small talk, then clock out as the sun dipped low again, leaving the site shrouded in dusk.

There were days, sometimes entire weeks, where I didn’t see or speak to any of the hunters. At first, it was disorienting, like a part of me was missing. Especially when I thought of Autumn and yearned for some kind of closeness to her… at least the version of her I created in my mind. But gradually, I started to appreciate the distance. Normality was a facade, yes, but it was one I found myself increasingly comfortable behind. Each mundane task, each interaction with the crew, reinforced the guise I was crafting. I was just another cog in the machine, a busy worker bee with no connection to the hidden world beneath the surface.

And oddly enough, I liked it. There was a strange comfort in the routine, in the predictability of it all. It was a life so far removed from the one I was used to, yet it grounded me in a way I hadn’t expected. The more I played the part, the more I felt it becoming real, or at least real enough to fool myself. The days I spent spreading cement and swapping stories with the other workers weren’t just about earning the trust of the Chasses. They were about finding a place for myself in this world. Not the fake “me” I put on to hide amongst the humans, but a version of myself that was familiar. A worker, making friends with other people on a jobsite over the shared workload. It calmed me. Brought a part of me back that I never thought about anymore.

It wasn’t just the routine of construction work that felt different. There was a noticeable absence, a silence that hung in the air like a storm that never came. The supernatural world, the one that I’d been thrust into, the one that was supposed to be teeming with danger and darkness had gone eerily quiet. It was as if the monsters had fled the area, leaving the hunters with little to do but wait for a new threat.

This dry spell was the reason the hunters seemed so distant lately. The Chasses, usually buzzing with purpose and intensity, had become almost ghost-like in their presence, barely visible, and always preoccupied with something just out of reach. I could feel their restlessness whenever I did catch a glimpse of them. The tension that usually rippled beneath the surface had dulled, replaced by a kind of frustrated boredom. Without the usual threats to chase down, they had little reason to engage with me or anyone else. Their attention was elsewhere, perhaps focused on the possibility of something bigger brewing on the horizon, or maybe just lost in the monotony of waiting.

For me, this lull in activity was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it made it easier to maintain the facade of normality. Without the constant pressure of supernatural dangers, I could sink deeper into the role of a regular guy, a worker who punched the clock and didn’t look over his shoulder every five minutes. On the other hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this calm was temporary, a fragile illusion that could shatter at any moment. The hunters might be distant now, but I knew that as soon as the next threat appeared, they’d snap back into focus, and I’d be pulled right along with them.

Frank and Carter came around every now and then, called and texted quite a bit to stay in contact, but there was a stretch of time that I didn’t get to spend around them like I had in the first few days of meeting them. I missed them all, and the atmosphere they created around me.

But for now, in the quiet days of this strange dry spell, I found a peculiar sense of peace in the normality. The absence of monsters was an unexpected reprieve, a chance to catch my breath and remind myself that there was a world beyond the shadows. And yet, the emptiness gnawed at the back of my mind, a constant reminder that the quiet never lasted long in our line of work. And the monster… the monster was ever hungry. Pushing against the perimeters of its cage in an attempt to find a weakness and escape from my grip. So, at night after work, I’d go back to my old routines. I’d hunt, pace the city streets in search of possibilities. I’d found a few, and they had satiated the beast for a time.

After a few weeks of settling into my new routine, I was surprised to get a call from Clara, of all people. She and Eleanor invited me over to train, a clear sign that they were ready to start integrating me more into their world. They wanted me to come around regularly to learn, grow, and hone my skills as a hunter. It was an invitation I couldn’t resist.

From that point on, my days took on a new rhythm. After finishing work or handling whatever company duties came up, I’d either head back to the factory or make my way to their house to dive deeper into their ways. It quickly became a routine that I found myself looking forward to each morning. There was a certain thrill in the uncertainty of where I’d end up each day, the factory, the Chasses’ house, or out in the field training with a mentor from the Chasse family. That suspense kept me energized, eager to see what the day would bring.

The truth was, I wanted nothing more than to be near them, Autumn, Eleanor, Carter, and the rest of the group. Being in their presence felt right, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I think they sensed how much I craved this connection, but they were careful not to push too hard too soon. At first, they kept my training limited, probably to make sure they didn’t overwhelm me and scare me off. They seemed to be testing the waters, gradually increasing the frequency of my visits as they gauged my commitment.

As time passed and I proved I wasn’t going anywhere, the training sessions became more frequent. What started as occasional visits turned into a nearly daily routine. It was as if they finally decided I was ready, and I relished every moment I spent learning from them. The more time I spent with the Chasses, the more I felt like I was becoming a part of something bigger—a life that was more dangerous and demanding than I could have imagined, but also more fulfilling than anything I’d known before.

Learning how to mold silver into weapons was one of the more fascinating and intense aspects of my training with Clara. She was meticulous and methodical, her passion for the craft evident in every step of the process.

Clara and Wayland’s garage, nestled just down the street from Carter’s house, was an intriguing contrast to the more polished environments I was used to. The space was a blend of organized chaos and purposeful clutter, reflecting both the functional and personal aspects of their work.

The garage was a spacious, single-room affair with concrete floors that bore the marks of countless projects. Scratches, stains, and the occasional splatter of molten metal filled the floor and walls. Shelves lined the walls, overflowing with an assortment of tools, parts, and materials. There were rows of metal containers, jars of various chemicals, and an array of hammers, pliers, and wrenches, each showing signs of heavy use.

In one corner stood the forge, a formidable structure that dominated the room. It was a large, blackened contraption with a glowing hearth at its center. The forge was constantly radiating heat, its flames crackling softly beneath a protective iron cover. Next to it, an anvil rested on a sturdy wooden stand, its surface scarred from years of hammering and shaping metal. Nearby, a large, industrial fan whirred, pushing the hot air and smoke away from the workspace.

The workbench was cluttered but meticulously organized. Various molds, crucibles, and metal ingots were arranged with an almost obsessive precision. A few unfinished projects lay in various stages of completion. There were silver bullets, arrowheads, and silver particulate bombs in various stages of assembly. There was a precision grinder, its surface covered in a fine layer of silver dust, and a set of calipers and gauges for measuring and ensuring accuracy.

Overhead, the garage was illuminated by bright, bare bulbs hanging from exposed wires. The light cast a harsh, utilitarian glow, accentuating the shadows and adding to the sense of intensity in the room. There were also several old-fashioned wall-mounted clocks, their ticking sound creating a rhythmic backdrop to the clatter of tools and the hiss of the forge.

The garage had a distinctly personal touch as well. There were sketches and blueprints pinned to a corkboard, some detailing designs for new weapons and others with more abstract, artistic elements. The walls were decorated with a mix of old photographs and mementos, snapshots of Clara and Wayland with various projects and a few candid shots of them in action.

Despite the apparent disorder, there was a palpable sense of purpose in the air. The space was a testament to Clara and Wayland’s dedication to their craft. It was a place where raw materials were transformed into powerful tools, and where every corner, every surface, and every tool had its place and its purpose.

Our sessions began in her workshop, a cluttered space filled with the pungent smell of melting metal and the constant hum of machinery. The air was thick with the heat of the forge, and Clara worked with an assured precision that was both intimidating and inspiring. I could see how she would have grown into such a strong hunter if she had come up as a child performing such hard labor. She was the silver smithing expert amongst the Chasse family, and Wayland was her star pupil obviously.

The first step was to prepare the silver. Clara explained that silver was not just a metal; it was a potent weapon against supernatural entities. We started with raw silver bars, which she showed me how to cut and shape. She talked about the importance of purity in the metal, emphasizing that any impurities could weaken its effectiveness. Therefore, failing one of the family members and ultimately leading to someone’s death.

To mold the silver into bullets, Clara demonstrated the process of melting the silver in a crucible. The silver was heated until it reached a molten state, glowing with a bright, liquid brilliance. She poured the molten silver into molds for bullets, carefully tapping the molds to ensure that the metal settled evenly. As the silver cooled and solidified, she explained the need for precise measurements to ensure that each bullet was perfectly formed.

Next, we moved on to making arrowheads. This process was slightly different but equally meticulous. Clara showed me how to shape the silver into pointed, aerodynamic tips. We used a combination of hammering and heating to refine the shape, making sure each arrowhead was sharp and strong. The key was to ensure that the silver was solid enough to penetrate and remain effective against its target.

The final part of our training was creating silver particulate bombs. This was the most complex and dangerous part of the process. Clara started by explaining the science behind it: the goal was to create a fine silver powder that could be dispersed effectively to create a barrier against supernatural creatures, or to invade their senses and debilitate them. That was a primary method of the Chasse family hunting.

We used a grinder to reduce silver into a fine particulate, mixing it with other compounds to create a stable mixture. The mixture was then carefully packed into small, cylindrical containers that could be ignited or thrown.

Throughout each step, Clara was patient and thorough, offering insights into the significance of each phase of the process. She didn’t just teach me the how but also the why. Why precision was critical and why certain techniques were used. The meticulous nature of the work was both challenging and rewarding. Each session ended with me covered in silver dust and sweat, but with a deep sense of accomplishment and a newfound respect for the craftsmanship involved in making these powerful tools.

My time with Carter was different, it was a broader teaching that focused on thought processes and tactics of the hunt. Carter’s training on tactics for fighting supernatural creatures was a focused, practical crash course in combat and strategy. He covered a range of techniques tailored to different types of creatures, starting with basic defensive maneuvers for a group of 3 hunters minimum, and escalating to more advanced tactics.

He began by emphasizing the importance of understanding the specific weaknesses of various supernatural entities, such as the effectiveness of silver or the use of warding symbols to herd or escape from a supernatural. Carter demonstrated different combat styles, from close quarters fighting to using long-range weapons, adapting the approach based on the creature’s strengths and weaknesses.

Training also included situational strategies, such as how to handle ambushes, set traps, and employ distraction techniques. Carter provided real-world scenarios and simulations, using mock encounters and real experience and examples to teach me practical applications of the tactics his family swore by. The goal was to ensure that I could respond swiftly and effectively, with a clear plan in mind for any supernatural threat I might face.

As Carter laid out the training day by day, I would just nod in agreement, absorbing the information with keen interest. On the surface, I tried to appear fully engaged, taking notes and asking pertinent questions. However, beneath the outward compliance, I harbored a different reality. In secret, I knew I didn’t need all these conventional strategies. My superhuman strength and speed meant I was more than a match for most supernatural creatures, and the need for intricate tactics was less critical. While I respected the knowledge Carter shared and understood its importance for others, my own abilities allowed me to navigate these threats with an innate advantage that rendered some of the more detailed training less necessary for me while alone. But, while I hunted with them, I’d keep it all in mind.

They were turning me into a deadly hunter. Well, their kind of hunter. My own hunting abilities were much different than theirs, and far more superior. Carter took me under his wing on everything. Frank taught me all he knew about their weapons and tools and showed me how to use them. Then, they had me start working out with them almost every day. They put about ninety-nine percent of the rest of the world to shame in the gym, save for Olympic level athletes. They were all operating at about double the intensity of the average gym-rat.

They had it down to a science. Everything they needed to get bigger, stronger, faster, and smarter. And Eleanor, she was a whiz in the kitchen. She kept them all fed and always at full strength with their carefully planned meals. I could tell early on that their family had been doing this for a very long time.

They welcomed me into every aspect of their lives. They treated me like a friend. Sometimes I felt like family. It was more than I ever hoped for or thought possible. Everyone treated me this way, Eleanor, Clara, Wayland, Frank, and Autumn. They all actually seemed to want me around. I wondered if that would always be the case, and what would happen if the truth came out.

My relationship with Autumn was confusing and complicated. Sometimes, it felt completely normal, like how I interacted with the rest of her family. Other times, it seemed like there was something more between us. She’d give me these lingering looks, as if she was trying to say something without words. When we were close, she’d find excuses to touch me—little things like a brush of her hand or a light touch on my arm. It felt real, not just something I was imagining because I was lonely.

But then there were times when she was distant and almost avoided me. Some nights, when I went over to her place, she’d disappear upstairs into her room. I’d end up listening for any sign of her, wondering what she was doing and why she was acting so strange.

I really wanted to understand her better, to figure out what she thought about me and why her behavior was so unpredictable. She was always on my mind, especially when I wandered through the dark, empty factory or the woods near her house. I was constantly trying to piece together what was going on with her and what it all meant for me.

The bestiaries were packed full of knowledge that the Chasses had accrued over the years. All kinds of mythical creatures littered the pages of the black leather books. There were too many to remember. I remembered every detail about the vampires I had fought. Every single scrap of a feature was burned into my brain. The eyes, the claws, the pungent smell of their blood, the way their bodies smoldered, and burst into flame when the sun infected their tissues. It was all locked away in the future reference section of my mind. The only other beasts I committed to memory were the ones I read about that sounded stronger than the average monster. Those were the creatures I could test myself against, the ones that could help me escape from this fate. However, after being with the Chasses, I hadn’t been thinking about my own demise as much. They were bringing me back to a place I wanted to be.

The training went on every day. There was no rest, no vacation, no time off from the constant preparation for the next fight. No one knew when it would happen, but they all just prepared like it could be any minute. They were a family of warriors.

I was sitting in the library one night with Carter and Clara, reading up on a strange spirit called a Black Shuck. It was some kind of death omen. It was well past dark when we were quickly interrupted by a presence outside of the house. There was a steady knock from a strong fist on the front door. Carter and Clara shot each other a quick glance, then Carter went quickly to the door. He pulled open the sizeable wooden slab, revealing Martin to the rest of the family.

“Carter, thank God,” Martin was relieved. He entered the home without invitation.

“Come in, come in,” Carter quickly stepped aside to let him in. He had never seen Martin this hurried.

The others looked warry at his presence but calm from their extended relationship. Carter welcomed him inside.

Martin came in, undeterred by the others’ rising heartbeats. They all knew that he wouldn’t hurt them, but they were still aware of the dangers of being what he was. They would never really let their guard down.

I should have acted more afraid.

“Sam, how have you been?” Martin asked, peering into me with piercing eyes. I could tell he noticed my steady heartbeat.

Autumn walked down the stairs after hearing the commotion. She entered the living room with the rest of us, for the first time, as I spoke.

“Good…you?” I felt her eyes on me as I spoke with the vampire.

He grinned at Carter, amused by my composure, “I could be better.”

I think Martin and Carter had spoken about my seemingly unafraid attitude towards him on our last encounter. Yet, I don’t think Carter fully understood what Martin was so amused about.

He came into the living room, joining the rest of us. It was very subtle, but the others gave Martin a wide birth as he moved and settled in different areas of the house. He came to a stop in front of the fireplace as the others situated themselves in the living room.

“What’s going on?” Carter’s voice cut through the thick, heavy silence.

“I’ve got news,” Martin said, his tone somber and foreboding. “Something’s coming…”

The atmosphere in the room grew tense, each person shifting uneasily, the weight of dread hanging in the air.

“What is it?” Carter pressed, his eyes narrowing with concern.

“A hunting party,” Martin replied, his voice dropping to a darker register. “Something I haven’t seen in nearly a century. A group of ancient, extremely powerful immortals.”

“A hunting party of immortals…” Eleanor’s voice trailed off as she asked, “What are they hunting?”

“What we’re hunting,” Martin said grimly. “The black-eyed creature that killed those vampires. The stories are spreading, and now more people are starting to believe that something is out there, killing indiscriminately. The vampire who survived went underground, to the pits.”

“The pits?” I asked, feeling a chill creep down my spine.

Carter’s expression darkened as he answered, “There are caves beneath the city—ancient, dark caverns carved out long before St. Louis was even a thought. Rumors and old stories speak of things still living down there…”

Martin’s voice cut in sharply, “Those stories aren’t just rumors—they’re true. There are things in those depths, deep in the old caverns. Things that have existed down there for centuries.”

The mention of the caves hit me hard. I had been there, exploring and mapping as much as I could. I had memorized every tunnel and passage I’d found, but I had never discovered a way to delve deeper. The further reaches of the earth remained elusive. I had sensed people down there occasionally, caught faint scents, but I’d always lost their trail before I could track them. The idea of ancient, hidden creatures stirring in the darkness was unsettling, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beneath the surface.

“What are they, vampires?” Carter asked, his voice edged with a mix of curiosity and unease.

“One of them, yes,” Martin replied, his eyes shadowed with a grim intensity. “Charles, a vampire. He was born in the dark ages, making him one of the oldest and most formidable beings I’ve ever encountered. He’s immensely powerful.” Martin hesitated, the weight of his next words heavy in the room. “He’s also the one who turned me.”

Carter’s brows furrowed, his concern deepening as he tilted his head. “What does that mean for us?”

“It’s been over fifty years since we last spoke,” Martin said, his voice taut with apprehension. “His presence will make things difficult for me. But we’ll discuss that more later.” He took a deep breath, his expression darkening further. “The second one, Phineas, is different. He’s a natural-born chimera, possessing the abilities of various creatures. He may not be as old as Charles, but his diverse powers make him an extremely dangerous adversary, nearly impossible to kill.”

Autumn’s voice broke through the tension from the far end of the room, her tone laced with unease. “We’ve never encountered a chimera before.”

“It would be in your best interest if you never do,” Martin warned them all. “I’m giving you this information so you can lay low for a while, at least until they find this thing.”

“We can’t just let them roam free. They could kill countless people…” Carter urged.

“Carter, listen to me!” Martin’s voice erupted with fierce urgency, each word punctuated with a raw, commanding intensity. “Do not make any moves against them. Do not go looking for them. Stay out of sight! Your family has done an extraordinary job of remaining hidden from our world. You never leave survivors after a hunt—that’s what has kept you alive, what has kept you off the radar. If these three discover that hunters are here…” His voice dropped to a menacing growl, “they will spread the word. They’ll bring their allies, and they’ll swarm you, exterminating every last one of you.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, thick with tension. Every heartbeat seemed to echo in the charged atmosphere. I could feel the collective rise and fall of everyone’s breaths, a palpable pulse of fear and anticipation. Martin’s eyes flicked towards me, sensing the steady thrum of my heartbeat beneath the surface. His gaze sharpened as he assessed me with a quick, almost imperceptible tilt of his head, his perception catching the subtle rhythm of my pulse that the others failed to notice.

“Who’s the third?” Wayland’s voice was a low murmur, barely audible as he peered through the living room window, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside.

Martin’s head snapped back from me to the group with a sudden, almost violent intensity. “A woman,” he said, his voice dripping with foreboding. “Her name is Mercy. She’s a witch. A very, very old witch. She’s the most dangerous of them all. She can attack in ways that are… unseen.”

A witch. The word sent a shiver down my spine. It was a shiver of excitement. It was something new, something I hadn’t come across in any of the bestiaries I’d read.

The hunters exchanged glances, their faces reflecting a mix of apprehension and curiosity. I stayed focused on Martin, hanging on every word he spoke.

“How do you mean?” Carter’s question cut through the tension.

“She’s psychokinetic,” Martin said, his voice dark and heavy with menace. “Her powers are unpredictable, and she wields them with a level of danger that’s hard to fathom. I’ve heard whispers that she also practices necromancy—raising the dead and commanding them.”

“How is that even possible?” I interrupted, unable to hold back my disbelief.

Martin’s gaze shifted to me again, sharp and assessing. I could almost feel him sizing me up, noting something peculiar about me. I struggled to maintain a heartbeat that matched the tense rhythm of the room, trying to mask my calm.

“There are countless unknowns in this world,” Martin replied, his tone laden with a double meaning that echoed ominously in my mind. “Many things are hidden, Sam. She draws her power from sources we cannot see, and that is what makes her more dangerous than the others. Her full capabilities are a mystery to us.”

Martin turned his attention back to the others, but my focus remained on him. I was certain he suspected something about me, though I wasn’t sure how much he knew. A gnawing anxiety settled in my gut, making me question whether my fears were just paranoia or something more.

Martin turned sharply, “I have a lot to do, things to prepare, but I need you to promise me…” he looked at Carter. “Promise me that you will stay out of this… at least until I know more.”

Carter stood in silence, contemplating everything he had just learned. He nodded slowly at the floor as he leaned against the other end of the fireplace, agreeing to Martin’s request. But he was still weighing options in his head.

“Charles has requested a meeting. I knew him ages ago, and I’m sure he wants to get a foothold here with someone he knows. He sent some lesser vampires to my bar last night with the invitation. Surely, he wants to see what I have gathered about this monster killer.” Martin was pacing across the hardwood floors. “I’ll meet with him, find out what they know, and once I know it’s safe, I’ll return,” he said. “But until then, please stay out of sight, even in the daylight. Charles can’t get to you while the sun is out, but Phineas and Mercy can, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Eleanor stepped forward, “No one will hunt. You have my word, Martin.” She assured him and commanded the others.

I stayed in my own head for the next few moments, processing what this meant. Three new powerful killers were in town. They had crawled up from the depths beneath the city and they were hunting for me. I lured them out from under the caverns with the carnage and chaos that I had left in my wake. I brought this on my new friends. I brought this to St. Louis. How many innocent people would they kill while they were in town?

I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do, but I knew the first thing I had to; I had to protect the Chasses. I had to keep them all safe. I couldn’t leave them anymore, not in the day or the night, neither was safe. Charles, the vampire, could reach them at night, and the witch, Mercy, or the chimera, Phineas, could reach them in the day. I had to make sure they stayed out of sight.

Martin was saying goodbye, everyone still keeping their distance, as he made his way back to the door. “Sam…” he nodded to me in acknowledgment, “I’ll see you again soon.”

To everyone else, this was just a courteous statement to make the new hunter feel welcome around the old vampire. Not to me. To me, it was something else entirely. Oh, he was acknowledging me, but subtly letting me know that he knew. He knew that I was hiding something. Though, the way he said it assured me that he hadn’t mentioned anything to Carter or the rest of them. He wouldn’t, not until he knew what I was hiding.

I couldn’t worry about Martin though. I had more pressing issues to focus on. I had to keep everyone safe from the old monsters that I had summoned from the depths.

I was standing in the kitchen, the cacophony of voices from the living room and library a roaring backdrop to my thoughts. I needed a moment to escape, to find a sliver of peace amid the chaos. The new threat was stirring something primal within me, shaking the cage of the monster that lurked just beneath the surface. It was restless, desperate to break free and defend my new family. But more than that… it wanted to run free and kill. It wanted to test itself against these three new anomalies.

I envisioned my hands slick with the blood of vanquished foes, the thrill of combat igniting a fierce, visceral hunger within me. I imagined my black talons tearing through their flesh, my teeth sinking into their throats, and my bare hands rending their bodies apart. The monster inside me throbbed with an insatiable urge to kill, its presence a constant, demanding force in my mind. I could feel my pulse throbbing in every inch of my flesh. My whole body pulsed as I stood in calm silence.

I reached for a glass from the cabinet, the cool, smooth surface a stark contrast to the heat of my thoughts. Filling it with water from the sink, I took measured sips, each one a deliberate attempt to calm the storm within. Deep breaths followed each drink, a struggle to cage the beast that roared and raged, pushing against the confines of my control.

“Scary, isn’t it?” Autumn appeared beside me.

I nodded, “Strange for sure…”

She leaned against the counter right beside me, “This is new for me too. I’ve never dealt with a chimera or a witch before, and the vampire… if he is older than Martin, then there’s no telling how powerful he is,” she spoke in a rush, truly worried. She tried to maintain her sense of control, but I could see how she really felt.

“I’ve read about chimeras, but there wasn’t too much about them. The bestiary just said that they have traits of other creatures…” I trailed off.

“Yeah, they do. The bestiary doesn’t have specifics because one chimera could be completely different from another. They can consume and take on certain traits of other things. It just all depends on what they consume,” Autumn informed.

I wondered if he could consume me… if he could become what I was. Then I started to think about what all he had consumed before, what kind of threat he posed to Autumn, and the rest of her family, what kind of things he would be able to do. Hopefully, these would be the things that Martin would discover in his meeting with Charles. I couldn’t let him hurt them.

I was about to ask her what all she knew about Witches, but she beat me with her own question.

“You want to get out of here?” Her voice was innocent, but there was a flicker of nervousness in her eyes that betrayed her calm demeanor. “Just for a little while. It’s getting a bit hectic, and there’s not much we can do anyway.”

This was one of those rare days I cherished, where her desire to be near me was clear and unguarded.

“Is it safe for us to leave?” I asked, my concern genuine but layered with an undercurrent of worry about her safety.

“We’ll be fine,” she assured, though her tone carried an edge of uncertainty. “St. Louis is a big city. They’re hunting something monstrous, not us. We can still live our lives, just not by going out and hunting monsters ourselves. We don’t want to attract their attention.”

I nodded, feeling a rush of relief and anticipation. “Alright, I could use some fresh air. You sure no one will mind?” My question held a double meaning. One of genuine concern for our safety and the other about our time together away from the others. I was growing increasingly aware that her family might be catching on to the subtle tension between us, however fleeting.

She flashed a grin that was both mischievous and reassuring. “Yeah, they’ll be fine. Besides, I need to get out of here. I think Patrick and his family are on their way over.”

As we prepared to leave, the weight of the situation and the promise of our time alone together built up a heady mix of anxiety and excitement.

Now I could see the reason she really wanted to leave. She had been dodging Patrick ever since they had arrived back in town. They returned a few weeks earlier but hadn’t come around when I was there. They had apparently brought some family back with them, so I assumed that they had their own things going on. Autumn had talked about Patrick’s grandmother, Annabelle, and the things she could do, so I was glad that they hadn’t appeared. I didn’t want to meet her. I was scared that if she could do what Autumn had said, that she would see what I was underneath. She might be able to peer inside the cage and gaze upon the rage and death that clawed to get out. I couldn’t let that happen.

But for now, if Autumn was leaving the safety of her house, I would be by her side. I’d go anywhere with her to keep her safe.

“Okay. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Her smile was warm and reassuring. “Good. Let me just tell my dad, and then we’ll head out.”

A few minutes later, we were sliding into the sleek black car that usually rested in front of Carter’s house. As we zipped down the interstate, the cityscape grew closer, and with each mile, my sense of unease deepened. It wasn’t her safety that troubled me; I had no doubt I’d protect her at any cost. It was the fear of what might happen if I had to reveal my true self to her; what she would see, what I might become in the heat of danger.

“So, what are you in the mood for?” she asked, her gaze briefly flickering over to me from the driver’s seat.

“Whatever you want… I’m not exactly well-versed in the city,” I replied, my words tinged with a truth and a lie. I wasn’t just a workaholic; I was more of a recluse, avoiding the world outside.

She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder, and flicked on her left blinker. “I know a place we can go.”

Within minutes, we were navigating the dim, labyrinthine corridors of a concrete parking garage. The darkness was pervasive, illuminated only by scattered floodlights clinging to the gray pillars. I kept my senses on high alert. My ears straining to catch the faintest of sounds, my nose tracking the subtle odors of oil and stale air, and my eyes scanning the dimly lit space, fighting the urge to let them turn black with heightened focus. I don’t think she’d like that at all.

As we moved through the garage on foot and descended the concrete stairs to the ground level, the chill of the stagnant air pressed in around us. Her scent was a constant presence, mingling with the cool, musty air, filling the empty space around us. I kept a half-step behind her, intentionally maintaining a respectful distance while my senses drank in every detail of her presence. The anticipation of what might come next crackled between us, every step echoing in the cavernous silence, each moment heightening my awareness of her and the delicate balance we were treading.

“Why are you so quiet?” Autumn asked.

“Just thinking…” I responded.

“About what?”

“You…” I said, quickly realizing the intimacy this statement uncovered in her.

Her eyes looked vulnerable for a split second. She looked happy, hopeful like she was discovering something she had been searching for, for a long time. They were hard not to stare into. I felt like I could see… feel the want inside of them, like she actually wanted to be close with me.

“I was wondering if any of this is getting to you? You seem pretty calm after everything.”

Her eyes hardened back to the confident hunter, “Oh, no, I’m fine.” Then she corrected herself, “Well, I mean, I’m as fine as usual. I’m always affected by the things we do. We all are. I guess it’s just my normal now.”

I laughed, “This is your normal? I’d like to see you when there isn’t a threat of the supernatural hiding around the corner. You must not have a care in the world.”

She smiled, “Yeah, that hasn’t happened in a while. We’re usually always hunting, training, or researching something. Actually, the last few weeks have been the driest in a while… until tonight, that is.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Martin usually feeds us information constantly. There’s usually a vampire nest, a rogue werewolf, malevolent spirit, or something for us to tend to. But lately, nothing.” She shook her head slowly as she led the way down the concrete path.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the thing that’s killing other monsters. Maybe they can sense something. Maybe they’re hiding.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe once I let that vampire escape, the word got out to all creatures. Maybe they knew I was out there, roaming the city in search of my next creature to kill.

“Maybe…” I agreed with her. A lot of maybes.

We had made our way, about two blocks from the parking garage, down the chilly sidewalk to a small cafe. Their focus was coffee, I could tell from the scent that encompassed the area. I pulled the door open for her, let her pass, and followed her in. She smirked, ever so slightly, to herself. I assumed she wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.

I couldn’t see how people didn’t treat her this way. First of all, where I came from, it was common courtesy. Second, she was a goddess, strong, fast, beautiful, a warrior. She was what you saw in movies, she could do things no average human could do. If she wanted to, she could beat the shit out of every single person in that little coffee shop. Yet, she had morals and a purpose. She was driven by family, love, and sheer will. If I had any sort of real chance with someone like her, when I was human, I would have stumbled over myself every day trying to please her.

“I come here all the time to study in between classes since it’s so close to campus. It’s quiet, and usually not too busy. Most people go to Starbucks around the corner.”

We walked to a booth in the back corner of the room. She slid across the leather cushion, and I mirrored her movements. A waitress walked over and took our orders; Autumn got a coffee, and I just asked for water.

“We’ve got some good food here also if you’re hungry.” The waitress stated. A strange tone and stumble in her voice. I assumed it was the unexplainable fear the monster induced sometimes. She was trying to be extra polite, but it came off as flirty. She was just subconsciously trying not to get decapitated.

“I’m alright, for now,” I thanked the waitress.

Autumn widened and cocked her eyes toward the waitress as she walked away and then back to me. She was smirking, “I think you have a fan.” The fear in the waitress wasn’t rational for humans in their daily lives, so Autumn’s confusion wasn’t a surprise.

It was hard not to be infected by her amusement. I shook my head, grinning, “Not for me…”

Within only a minute or two, the waitress was back with our drinks. I was looking around, inspecting the safety of the coffee shop. It was a low-lit place with soft, quiet music regularly playing behind the low hum of other patrons. But from what I could tell, it was safe for the moment.

The waitress said something, but I didn’t hear her. I was too caught up in monitoring the surrounding area. Autumn answered her since it got kind of awkward when I didn’t respond.

“No thanks, I think we’re good.”

“Okay… just let me know if you guys need anything,” she said, then walked away again, a little too fast.

Autumn had a funny look on her face. She was smirking at the table, obviously in thought about something. She settled into a deep silence, scratching the table over and over with her grey painted thumbnail.

“You trying to dig a hole?” I said after a minute of silence, trying to get her to snap out of her daze.

“Sorry, I was just thinking… I still don’t know that much about you.” She squinted, cocking her head to the side.

Shit.

“What do you want to know?” I asked in fear.

She looked like she had a thousand different things she wanted to ask me, questions and thoughts raced through her expressions. I hoped she landed on an easy one.

“Where’d you come from? I mean, I know you were here working construction, but where did you come from before. I know you said you grew up in Texas, right?”

“Yeah, then once I got on with the construction company, I went wherever they sent me.”

“So, you’ve just moved around ever since?”

“Yep, all over the place,” I lied.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

Then came more lies, “Springfield, Oklahoma City, New Orleans, Dallas,” I made sure to throw that one in since I actually knew it. I knew things about my old home, just in case she asked about specifics, “and now I’m here.”

“And you’ve been by yourself the whole time?”

“Yeah, pretty much?”

She looked like I hadn’t satisfied her question just yet, “So you haven’t ever had anyone with you… any girlfriends?”

It hit me hard. I didn’t want to lie to her. I wanted to try and be somewhat truthful. “I did actually. There was one girl that I was with for a while, and it was pretty serious.”

“What was her name?”

“It was Vicky.” Shit, I shouldn’t have used her real name. But there were thousands of women named Vicky… right. What were the chances of her figuring out anything? It just came out too fast.

She leaned forward, intrigued, “What happened?”

“Um…”

Then she jumped back in her seat, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked, that’s personal.”

“No, it’s fine,” I assured her. “Uh, it’s kind of complicated, but basically, something changed. I wasn’t the same person she fell in love with.” I measured my words carefully.

“So, did you love her?”

I nodded.

“How did you change?”

This was the tricky part, “Things changed between us. I felt different around her. I didn’t think she loved me or could love me anymore. So, I left.” I kept it as close to the truth as possible.

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching across the table to put her hand on top of mine. Her skin on my own was intense. I could feel her pulse surge through her flesh and into my hand. It was like I could feel her actual life force. “Is that what you’re always thinking about?”

“What?” I asked confused at her words.

“You have this thing you sometimes do. You’ll stop randomly and freeze up. It seems like you’re in deep thought about something. We figured it was all of this new stuff you’ve been learning, but then you treat all the supernatural like it’s nothing. We figured it was something personal from your past,” she explained.

“We?” I asked.

“My family and I notice it,” she said.

“Oh,” I was taken aback. So, they noticed things about me that I wasn’t even aware of. This worried me.

“You said you were the one that left?” she asked.

“No… I mean, once we broke up, I went on with my life.”

“How long ago was that?” she asked.

“A few years ago,” I brushed it off. “I’ve moved on, she’s moved on. I’m happy where I’m at right now.” If only that was completely true.

With a refreshed look, she said, “Well, good, I’m glad.”

“The supernatural stuff definitely does get to me, though. I guess I’m just thinking about everything sometimes, trying to remember things I’ve read, things I’ve seen.”

I felt like I had lied too much and revealed enough about myself. I wanted to get the attention off me for the moment, “So what about you? How serious were you and Patrick?”

She pulled her hand back from mine, hoping she wasn’t too intrusive, “Semi-serious, I guess. We were off and on for a while like I said before, but it just never really moved deeper than what I felt like it should be.”

I liked her answers and her feelings toward Patrick. It even made the monster content deep in his cage.

“So, no more Patrick?” I grinned.

“No,” she chuckled.

We laughed together for a moment. I loved the sound of her voice, her laugh, any noise she made. I found myself staring again, but I realized she was as well. No one said anything for a moment.

“You’re strange…” she muttered.

I cocked my head to the side, unsure of where that had come from.

She laughed apologetically, “Sorry, not strange in a bad way. Strange, like I can’t figure you out.”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“There’s something about you. It’s in your eyes. Not all the time, just every once in a while. It’s like… fearlessness… it’s hard to explain. My family sees it too. Frank said he saw it the first night they saw you when you were about to fight those vampires by yourself. Rookie move…,” she shook her head and pursed her lips in an unapproving manor.

I laughed, “Sometimes, you have to just be confident, and just start swinging.”

She chuckled for a few moments, laughing loud enough for the surrounding customers to look over.

We had finished our drinks and talked for about another half an hour. We didn’t talk about anything too serious, just joked around and playfully challenged one another to various training tasks. I was getting to be a reasonably good marksman with the bow, crossbow, and rifle. She could definitely beat me with the way I shot, but I could tune my eyes a little more monstrously and beat her, no problem. I liked to rile her up, making her playful side come out, and watch her plot to destroy me in a challenge.

She was laughing as she checked her phone, “Wow, we should probably head out. We’ve been here for almost two hours. I’m sure we’ll start getting calls soon if we don’t head back.” She seemed reluctant.

We paid, left, and made our way outside. We walked side by side back down the sidewalk from where we came. We didn’t say anything at first. Leaving the small, close atmosphere of the booth seemed to take things back to their normal state. She was guarded again, and it made me bring up my guards as well. I thought feverishly about what to say, but I couldn’t muster anything up. The harder I thought, the more I went blank.

Then, she stopped. I walked a few steps in front of her before I stopped as well. I looked back at her, looking at me.

“You okay?”

She took a short, quiet breath, “I don’t want to go back yet.” She looked at me, her brown eyes burning with a longing stare.

I didn’t either, “Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

I felt the monster pushing me towards her, my deepest urges wanted me to do what I ached to do.

She started walking the few steps to me, closing the distance and stopping right in front of me. Her toes were almost touching mine. Her face was intimately close to my face, turned into the side.

“I like this, I don’t want it to end yet,” she whispered in my ear.

My heart skipped a beat and then started pounding in my chest. Everything up to this point had been, at best, casual flirting. Half the time, I didn’t think it was real, just my imagination. But now… she actually spoke the words. She wanted to be here… with me.

How was this possible? Why was it happening? I didn’t deserve this, or her. I was a monster, a killer. I wasn’t supposed to let myself get so close to her. It wasn’t right. I had to do right by her, just as I did for Vicky and Caydee. I tried to fight it.

I turned my face into hers, whispering back into her ear, “I don’t either…”

We both leaned slightly back to look into each other’s eyes, point-blank. I felt what I wanted to do, and I struggled against the monster inside. My darkest urges weren’t to harm her, but to stop fighting myself and give into what I wanted, and I wanted her, badly.

She leaned into my face, almost touching my lips. She pressed her forehead into mine and closed her eyes. She looked troubled, like something that was always in the back of her mind was surfacing. She breathed through it and grabbed my arm, squeezing it urgently.

“Let’s get to my car…” she urged.

I nodded, and then we were off. Her tight grip loosened from my upper arm and slid down to find my hand locking her fingers through mine. She led the way, pulling me with authority through the darkened city. We were somewhere between jogging and running back to the parking garage as we climbed the stairs to the second level. We came up to her car, short of breath. It wasn’t from the running, but from the nervousness, the expectation of what was happening.

We stopped at the rear driver’s side door of her black car. The tension between us crackled in the air, palpable and thick. She hit the unlock button with a trembling hand, and the door clicked open. Without hesitation, she slipped into the tight confines of the back seat, pulling me in behind her. The door closed with a soft thud, sealing us in, and suddenly, it was just the two of us, the world outside forgotten.

"Sam... this isn’t a mistake, is it?" Her voice trembled, laced with a vulnerability that cut through the thick air. Her eyes, wide and uncertain, searched mine for reassurance.

"It doesn’t feel like a mistake…" I murmured, my gaze locking onto hers. Her wariness mirrored my own, and yet, the magnetic pull between us was undeniable.

"It doesn’t to me either," she whispered, her voice barely audible, like she was afraid the words might shatter the fragile moment.

Before I could respond, she surged forward, her body pressing against mine with a sudden, fierce urgency. She straddled me, pinning me to the back seat with a strength that belied her size. Her hands, warm and trembling, slid up to my neck, then over my shoulders, tracing the lines of my arms and chest. Her touch was electric, her fingers lingering as if committing every inch of me to memory. Her eyes followed the path of her hands, dark and intense, as though she was searching for something beneath my skin.

She leaned in, her breath hot against my face as she rested her forehead against mine, her hair a dark curtain that cascaded onto my chest as she hovered over me, just inches away. The space between us was charged, every breath, every heartbeat, amplified by the tension that threatened to consume us both. The world outside was a distant memory, and all that mattered was this moment, the unspoken words hanging in the air, and the desperate, aching need that pulsed between us.

I had been doing unexpectedly well up until this point. I was holding myself back, mostly too caught up in watching as she pulled me in and got on top of me. I couldn’t fight the next urge. I reached for her, jerking my hands up and then hesitantly putting them on her arms, careful not to hurt her.

I was at a crossroads. At this point, I could go either way. I could do the right thing, push her back and tell her this was a mistake, or I could pull her in, do what I yearned to do, what the monster was amplifying. It was a quick decision. I couldn’t think about it too much, or I wouldn’t do it.

She felt me pulling her in and took it as a signal. She fiercely smashed her lips into mine, kissing me like she had been waiting to do it since we first met. I put one hand on her side and the other behind her neck, pulling her in tighter. She laid into me. Her body curved into mine as we stretched out in the back seat. My senses felt everything, smelled everything, saw everything. I could feel her warmth, the heat, coming from her body, her breasts pushing into my chest as she lay on top of me; the smell of her hair was running rampant as the dark locks caressed my face. Being this close with her ripped away any remnants of the internal struggle I usually had around her. I didn’t want to fight it anymore, I just wanted more. I wanted it all.

She pulled up for air every minute or so, prying herself out of the hot, tangled mess of grabbing hands and the fierce locking of our lips, asking, “Is this okay?”

I always nodded, keeping my hands tightly clamped around her wrists, ready to pull her back in as soon as she could breathe again. One of the times she sat up, she pulled off her jacket and threw it in the floorboard, revealing her bare arms in the dark, loose-fitting top she was wearing. I ran my hands over every inch of her exposed arms. I could see the strap of her silver blade’s sheath, wrapped around her waist, as her shirt inched up in our frenzy.

I wondered how far she would take it, or if I would stop it. I wasn’t sure where it was going, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t want her to stop.

Then I heard something, it was the sound of feet leaping and running somewhere in the parking garage. I sat up, Autumn still on my chest. She inched off.

“What’s wrong? Should we stop?” she asked, shakily.

“No, it’s not that. I thought I heard something…” I said quickly.

She looked around, “I didn’t hear anything.”

No, she wouldn’t. This was too far away for her to hear.

I heard them getting closer. The footsteps were getting louder, circling us. I saw the flicker of a shadow pass by one of the floodlights in the parking garage.

“Did you see that?” I asked Autumn, who was still trying to catch her breath and fix her hair.

“Yeah… I did,” she had a look of slight concern on her face.

We waited in silence for it to happen again, but nothing. We waited for anything, but nothing else happened. The sound of the footsteps actually died down and had disappeared. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be around anymore.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get out of here,” Autumn said. “Mom and Dad are probably wondering about us anyways.”

“Okay…” I said, not wanting to get out of the position we were in. She leaned into me one last time and kissed me again, slowly this time.

We sat there for a second, slowly, but still passionately kissing. It was intense and unusual. I never felt this before, the wild physical urges that forced us into each other. She attacked me, like kissing me was the only way she could get oxygen to survive.

I wondered if it was the monster. Maybe it had some sort of pull on her, drew her in, and attracted her to me. It had to be because this was something I had never felt before. It was raw… primal.

We pulled away from each other and forced ourselves back out of the black car. It had gotten so hot inside of the vehicle when we opened the door, the fresh air felt like a blast of wind from a blizzard.

As soon as we had shut the back door and were standing outside the vehicle, the footsteps began again. Fast, whirring shadows whipped all around us, quick rushes of air were streaming all around the area. They all came to a stop at the same time. The eyes were the first things I noticed. Crimson and bloodshot. Three vampires stood in front of us.