A scream shattered the silence like a blade through brittle glass. Lucian moved before he could think, his body reacting on instinct. His partner followed, boots pounding against the dirt path as they sprinted toward the sound.
They arrived at a small house on the village's edge, its wooden door swaying open. Inside, the dim glow of a lantern flickered, casting restless shadows over a single overturned chair.
Lucian stepped inside cautiously, scanning the room. No signs of a struggle. No blood. Just... absence. Whoever had lived here was taken cleanly, without resistance. He knelt by the chair, fingers grazing the wooden floorboards. They were warm. Someone had just been here.
His partner lingered by the doorway, gripping her staff. "This doesn't feel like a beast attack."
Lucian nodded. "No broken doors. No claw marks. This was deliberate. Precise."
A faint trail of something dark and sticky led toward the back door. Smudged prints disappeared into the night. Without a word, he stepped outside, his partner close behind.
The air felt heavy, thick with something unspoken. The village, once silent, now seemed to be holding its breath.
Then—movement. A flicker of shadow at the edge of his vision.
Lucian bolted. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he chased the figure through darkened streets. Whatever had taken the villager was fast—unnaturally fast. It twisted through the alleys with eerie precision, slipping past carts and barrels with ease.
But Lucian was faster. He pushed himself harder, the distance between them closing. He was close now, close enough to—
A sudden shift. The figure veered sideways, vanishing between two buildings. Lucian skidded to a halt, eyes locked on the narrow passageway. Nothing. It was gone.
He exhaled sharply. "Damn it."
His partner caught up, breathless. "We lost it."
Lucian's fists clenched. "No. It let us lose it."
She frowned but said nothing. Instead, she turned her gaze outward—and then she saw it.
A pit, deep and wide, just beyond the village walls.
Lucian stepped closer, peering down. His stomach twisted. The pit wasn't filled with bodies but with remnants—discarded clothing, broken necklaces, scraps of fabric. Pieces of people. But not the people themselves.
His partner swallowed hard. "This... isn't just some random attack."
Lucian exhaled slowly, thoughts racing. "No. It's a system. A process. And whatever's behind it isn't just hunting. It's collecting."
A thick silence stretched between them, heavy with realization. Then, movement.
The villagers.
From shuttered windows and barely opened doors, they watched. Waiting.
They weren't just afraid.
They knew.
Lucian's eyes darkened. "We're not just hunting a monster. We're uncovering a secret."
The wind howled through the village, carrying with it the quiet whispers of the damned.