Joshua rose to his feet, the cold wind brushing through his hair, carrying the fading scent of blood with it. The world felt different now, quieter somehow, like it was holding its breath along with him.
His eyes, once gentle and unsure, now glowed faintly in the dark, reflecting something more than just hunger—resolve.
"I'll find you, Jeremy…" he murmured under his breath, as if saying it aloud might carry his voice through the distance, through whatever darkness had swallowed them both. "I promise."
He remembered the warmth of his brother's arms the night everything changed—the protective way he always pulled him close, shielding him from the growing fear outside. He remembered Jeremy's words, soft but firm: "No matter what happens, we'll find each other again."
That was a promise and Joshua would not break it. Even if he had to crawl through shadows. Even if he had to feed on blood... Even if he had to become something else entirely.
He would find him.
He wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his sleeve, steadied his breath, and looked ahead into the dark forest. It no longer felt as terrifying as it once had. He could feel it now—every sound, every breath of life within it. His senses were sharper, his body lighter, his mind… hungrier.
But he still had a heart.
And that heart beat for one person.
Jeremy.
Without another word, he turned and began to walk—no destination in mind, just the aching hope that somewhere, somehow, this new monstrous strength could bring him back to the one person who made him feel human.
The branches swayed above him, casting shifting shadows on the forest floor as Joshua began his slow walk forward. Each step was silent, almost unnaturally so. His bare feet, once vulnerable to the cold and stones, now barely registered the rough terrain beneath them. The night didn't feel so harsh anymore. The darkness wasn't suffocating—it was familiar. Inviting.
His senses were alive.
Every rustle in the leaves. Every breath of wind. Every distant heartbeat. He could hear it all.
He paused near a tree, the bark gnarled and twisted, and placed a hand against it. For a moment, he listened—not to the tree, but to the world around it. A squirrel leapt overhead, its tiny heart racing in his ears like a drum. A fox crept nearby, cautious and curious. And farther away… voices.
Faint.
Human.
Joshua's eyes narrowed. He didn't move, not yet. His instincts flared, tugging at the predator inside him, whispering that there was warmth there. Blood. Life. Food.
He clenched his jaw.
"No…" he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to turn away from the direction of the voices. He didn't know who they were—hunters, villagers, or just unlucky campers—but he wouldn't lose control again. Not this soon.
Not when Jeremy might still be out there, waiting for him.
He trudged deeper toward the edge of the forest, his breath steady, his hunger kept in check—barely. The trees began to thin, the moonlight cutting through with more clarity. The smell of earth and pine began to shift—now joined by something new: smoke, faint traces of iron, and… asphalt?
A road.
He quickened his pace, leaping over a fallen log, weaving between trees until his foot crunched on gravel. The forest ended abruptly at the edge of an empty road, cracked and faded, as if the world had forgotten it long ago.
Joshua stepped onto it slowly, feeling the strange warmth of it under the moonlight.
There were no cars.
No people.
Just silence and the occasional chirp of a lonely cricket.
He turned his head slowly in both directions. One way led deeper into blackness. The other—far in the distance—held a faint orange glow, like the dying embers of a campfire, or maybe…
A town.
Joshua's heart picked up speed.
It was a start.
With blood still on his clothes, eyes glowing faintly, and a hunger buried just beneath the surface, he began walking toward the light.
The journey had begun.
He didn't know what he would find out there—enemies, hunters, monsters like himself—but he knew one thing:
Whatever lay ahead, he would face it.
For Jeremy.
For the promise.
For the part of him that still refused to die.
--------
Joshua walked until he arrived at the entrance of a town. Small and hidden by the trees.
It looked like the kind of place forgotten by time —Cracked windows, rusted signboards, flickering street lamps. A single rusted welcome sign creaked in the breeze.
Greystone Hollow.
It wasn't much but it was a shelter.
He kept his hood up as he entered. His clothes, still stained with dried blood, earned him wary glances from a few passing strangers but no one stopped him. They probably thought he was just another runaway or a street orphan. And he prefered it that way.
He scanned the twin quickly, picking out what he needed. A water pump, a market stall, and tucked into the corner of a side street was an old Inn.
The wooden sign above the crooked door read. 'The Hearthstone Rest.' The windows were forged. A lantern flickered weakly outside and the smell of burning firewood leaked through the cracks in the walls.
He stepped in.
The warmth hit him first. Then the smell — aged wood, stew, and faint traces of something herbal.
Behind the counter sat an old woman, small and hunched, wrapped in a heavy knit shawl. Her eyes, cloudy with age, lifted slowly as he entered.
"Well, kid," she said, her voice rough but kind. "What do you want, bed or trouble?"
Joshua hesitated, then lowered his hood.
Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of his red ones but she didn't scream nor run.
She just stared
"I'm looking for a place to stay," he said quietly. "But I don't have money... I can work. Anything. Cleaning, lifting errands — I don't care."
The woman didn't speak right away. She studied him for a long time, her gaze sharp despite her age.
"You're not normal, are you?" She asked.
Joshua said nothing.
She nodded once, as if that was all the answer she needed.
"I've had worse," she muttered, standing up with a grunt. "You can start with the fireplace. It's dying again. Ash bucket is in the corner, the room upstairs is yours if you don't scare off my guests."
His eyes widened slightly. "Just like that?"
The woman gave a thin smile. "I've lived long enough to know monsters aren't always the ones with fangs, boy. And people like you… you don't usually ask before taking. So either you're desperate… or still decent. Either way, I've got chores."
He nodded, quiet gratitude flickering in his chest.
She turned, muttering over her shoulder, "Name's Mabel. Don't break anything. And if you're gonna drink blood, don't do it inside."
Joshua actually chuckled—just a small one—but it was real. The first in days.
He had a roof now.
A place to breathe. To think. To plan.
He grabbed the ash bucket and knelt by the hearth, feeding the fire as his thoughts drifted once more to his brother.
He was still out there somewhere.
And now, Joshua had a place to start.