Renji didn't trust them. He knew that much the moment they appeared, stumbling through the rubble of the abandoned street like refugees from a war-torn world. There were three of them—two men and a woman—huddled together, faces smeared with dirt, eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation.
One of the men was holding a rifle, his hands shaking as he glanced nervously at Renji. The woman clutched a small bag close to her chest, while the other man kept his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the coughs that wracked his body.
Renji stood frozen in the middle of the street, watching them with the kind of suspicion he hadn't thought himself capable of. They were just like him—lost, frightened, and desperately trying to survive—but something about them felt different. Something about their presence stirred a strange unease in him.
They noticed him too. The rifle-wielding man stiffened at Renji's stare, his grip tightening on the weapon.
"Who are you?" the man asked, his voice rough, eyes narrowed. "You're not one of them… are you?"
Renji didn't answer right away. His eyes scanned the group, noticing the subtle signs of fear in their posture—the way they kept looking over their shoulders, the nervous twitch of their fingers. They were survivors, but barely. They didn't look like they were prepared for this world. They looked like prey.
"I'm just looking for shelter," Renji said slowly, his voice low, almost predatory. It felt strange to say the words. It wasn't a lie, exactly, but it wasn't the whole truth. He wasn't looking for shelter. He was looking for something more. Something he hadn't quite figured out yet.
The woman glanced at Renji, her eyes wide but filled with a kind of hope. "We—We know a place. It's safe. For now," she said. Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as if she was trying to hide the uncertainty behind her words.
Renji considered her offer, but something inside him recoiled. He was too aware of the dangers of trusting others now. The world was filled with monsters—human and otherwise—and alliances were nothing more than temporary agreements based on survival. He couldn't afford to get attached.
Before he could respond, the sound of distant gunfire broke the tense silence. The survivors flinched, their bodies instinctively bracing for impact.
"We need to move," the man with the rifle said, his voice trembling. "The more we stay here, the more we're exposed."
Renji nodded, already turning to move. He didn't need to be told twice. He wasn't afraid of the gunfire—it was the creatures he feared. They were closing in fast, and he could already feel the hunger within him grow as the pressure of the situation mounted. His senses were more acute than ever, and he could hear their screeches on the wind.
The group moved quickly, Renji taking the lead, his pace steady despite the gnawing pain in his chest. Every step felt like a battle against his own instincts, as if something inside him wanted to take off at a sprint, to chase down whatever was nearby, and tear it apart. He gritted his teeth, holding himself back, but it was becoming harder and harder.
They reached a building—half-collapsed but still standing enough to provide cover. The door was barred, but with a few quick motions, Renji pulled it open, and they slipped inside. The others followed him in, their faces drawn tight with exhaustion and fear.
Inside, the air was thick with dust, and the faint smell of decay lingered. The woman collapsed against the wall, her breathing shallow as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. The two men paced around nervously, checking windows, making sure the building was secure.
Renji leaned against a broken pillar, his mind still racing. The hunger was growing stronger. He could feel it clawing at him, pushing him toward something he couldn't control.
He had to keep it together.
The woman looked at him again, her gaze softer now, tinged with something like sympathy. "You're not like the others," she said quietly. "You… you don't look like one of them."
Renji stiffened, his instincts flaring. He didn't like where this was going. He didn't want them to figure out what he was becoming.
"I'm just trying to survive," he said flatly, his voice betraying none of the unease twisting in his gut. "Just like you."
The man with the rifle finally spoke again. "We've been trying to find a place where we can regroup, somewhere safe. We're not going to make it long without some kind of plan. But… we don't know what's happening. Why this is all happening."
Renji didn't answer right away. What could he say? That the world was ending? That dungeons were opening up everywhere and turning everything into a nightmare? That something inside of him was changing, but he wasn't sure what yet?
Instead, he stayed silent, eyes scanning the room. The walls were cracked, the air musty, but it was the best shelter they had. For now.
The woman, sensing Renji's distance, shifted uncomfortably. "We're not asking for much," she said, her voice hesitant. "Just… some help. We can't do this alone."
Renji studied her for a moment, and for the first time, something in his chest loosened, a flicker of empathy or maybe just the recognition of his own isolation.
But empathy was dangerous. Trusting them could be deadly.
"I'll help," Renji said finally, his voice low. "But I'm not staying."
The woman nodded, a small sigh escaping her lips. She had probably heard that response from countless others. "That's… fair enough."
Renji turned toward the door, his senses still alert. The hunger was still there, but now there was something else—a gnawing feeling that something far worse was on the horizon.
And he wasn't sure if he was ready for what came next.
Outside, the world was already changing. The city was alive with the sound of creatures moving in the shadows, and Renji knew that this fragile moment of respite wouldn't last.
He would have to keep moving, but this time, he wouldn't be alone. At least for now.
---
The nights had become unbearable.
Renji lay on the cold, cracked floor of the makeshift shelter, staring at the broken ceiling above. He could hear the others—snoring softly, mumbling in their sleep—but all he could focus on was the growing tension in his body. The hunger. The unrelenting urge that gnawed at him from the inside out.
It was worse tonight. He could feel it—the power swirling beneath his skin, pushing against the boundaries of his control. It felt like a slow burn, a fire creeping up his spine, threatening to ignite at any moment. His muscles ached, his senses heightened, and his mind felt like it was being pulled in a thousand different directions.
Renji gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations. The hunger was louder than it had ever been. It whispered in his ear like a predator stalking its prey. It was a deep, insatiable craving that seemed to devour everything in its path.
He tried to ignore it. Tried to tell himself it was just the stress, the fear, the world falling apart around him. But he knew the truth. The truth that was becoming impossible to deny.
Something was changing inside of him.
And it wasn't just the world that was falling apart.
Renji's fingers dug into the floor, his nails scraping against the concrete. He had to stop it. He had to stay in control. But every instinct inside him was screaming to act, to fight, to feed. He could feel the primal urge surging through him, sharpening his thoughts, urging him to do things he had never considered before.
He opened his eyes, staring at the dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls. His breathing was shallow, ragged, and the air around him seemed to pulse with a strange energy.
In the corner of the room, Jun stirred in his sleep, a quiet groan escaping his lips. Renji's gaze snapped toward him, and he felt his body tense. The hunger flared within him, a sudden, burning desire to tear into him. To sink his teeth into the soft, vulnerable flesh.
No.
Renji closed his eyes tightly, his hands shaking as he pressed them to his temples. He had to fight it. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't like them.
But the hunger. The hunger wouldn't stop.
It was getting worse. Each day, it became more difficult to ignore the monster lurking beneath the surface. The sharpness of his senses, the heightened awareness of every sound, every movement—he could feel it all. The hunger was always there, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.
And now, it was louder than ever.
Renji's breath came faster, and his heart began to race. His body felt like it was about to explode with the raw energy thrumming inside of him. He could hear the heartbeat of every living thing in the building—the slow, steady rhythm of Jun's pulse, the soft rustle of the woman's breath as she shifted in her sleep. It was maddening. Overwhelming.
He needed to get out. Away from them. Away from the suffocating walls that threatened to close in on him. He needed space. He needed to escape before he lost control.
With a sharp, pained grunt, Renji forced himself to sit up. His limbs felt heavy, like they didn't belong to him. The pain in his chest had intensified, and the hunger clawed at his insides, demanding release. He couldn't take it any longer.
Without thinking, he shoved past the others, his body moving on its own accord. He could feel the eyes of the survivors on him, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the sensation of the night air on his skin, the cool breeze that promised freedom from the suffocating pressure building inside of him.
Renji staggered outside, the world around him dark and silent. The city was still—a ghost town of wreckage and decay. The distant cries of monsters echoed through the streets, but they felt like a distant threat now, far removed from the storm raging inside of him.
He stumbled toward the edge of the city, his breath ragged as his feet carried him without conscious thought. His mind was a blur, lost in the haze of his transformation. The hunger burned through him, consuming him from the inside out.
He reached a quiet, empty alley, far enough from the others to be alone. Renji's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground with a violent gasp. His body was trembling, his skin crawling with the strange energy that seemed to pulse from within.
He couldn't stop it anymore.
With a roar of frustration, Renji slammed his fist into the ground. The concrete cracked beneath the impact, a deep, resonating sound that echoed in the alley. The hunger surged, and something inside of him snapped.
His vision blurred, and for a moment, it felt like the world was collapsing around him. His body convulsed, and the transformation took hold.
It was raw. It was painful. His skin seemed to stretch, his muscles contorting as his bones shifted. He could hear the crack of his joints, the sharp snap of his teeth lengthening. His senses overloaded, his vision sharpening, his hearing becoming impossibly acute. His body was becoming a weapon, an extension of his will.
And still, the hunger raged.
Renji gasped for air, trying to hold on to what little remained of his humanity. But it was slipping away. The world around him became a blur of colors and sounds, a cacophony that drowned out his thoughts. His body had become something else—something dark, something powerful.
He fought to regain control, but the beast inside him was too strong. The hunger tore through him, and for a moment, he wasn't sure who was in control.
With a final, savage roar, Renji tore through the air, a blur of motion. He felt something snap inside him, and he lost all sense of reason.
For the first time, Renji understood the true cost of survival.
He had become what he feared most.
And there was no turning back.