Page 1 of Feral

Chapter 1

Hale

Fear.

It permeates the air as I stalk my prey. I’ve been chasing this asshole for over an hour, lurking in the dark shadows of downtown New Onyx, dragging it out before I pounce. A heady cocktail of guilt, sweat, and absolute terror practically coats my tongue the closer I get, enticing the monster within me to the surface.

His shoes squeak and scuff the asphalt of the myriad alleyways he ducks down attempting to lose me, his heavy, labored breathing audible above the other sounds of an urban city, drowning out sirens, car engines, and other mortals.

He fucked up and he’s going to pay for it.

My target finally makes a wrong turn, finding himself facing a tall brick wall with barbed wire twisting around the top. I appear at the mouth of the alley, unhurried and seemingly aloof, but I’m far from that. The part of me I keep tucked away most of the time, the most feral essence of who I am, is simmering just beneath my collected surface.

I inhale his scent, my fangs descending in preparation for the kill. Instead of the trash littering the ground and the ubiquitous vague stench of old urine and vomit, all I can smell is sweet, sweet horror. I hum with contentment as I take a measured step toward him. The sky, thick with summer humidity, finally relents, dumping sudden buckets of rain.

The man plasters his back to the brick wall, wildly searching for a nonexistent exit, hands pressed flat against the cool stone. He’s an average man of unremarkable looks and build, probably mid-forties. My target gasps as he’s drenched, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t bothered to blink.

“Look, man. I don’t know why you’re chasing me, but if you want money or something?—”

I raise my hand to stop him, my lip curling in a snarl. “Money?” I scoff. “I’m not robbing you.”

“Then what is this?”

Tilting my head, I squeeze my hands together before cracking my knuckles, smiling when his eyes grow wide as he watches my nails go from normal and short to long and sharp.

“What the fuck?!”

“What’s your name?”

“Uh…Sc-Scott.”

“Scott.” I repeat the word, emphasizing the final ‘t’ as I practically bite out the name. “Well, Scott, two hours ago you did something very bad.”

His face twists in fear. “You saw…”

“Yes, I saw it. Unfortunately, too late to prevent it, but your victim has been cared for.”

“I-I…” He seems unable to provide an explanation.

Doesn’t matter. There’s nothing he could say that would make what I witnessed okay.

“I apologize for my lateness. I had to make sure that poor girl was taken to safety.” I stalk toward him, stopping a few inches from his face. “Do you know she’s only seventeen? Is this a hobby, Scott? Taking advantage of people weaker than you?”

“Sh-she didn’t do what we agreed.”

“Oh, now, Scott, don’t lie to me. It infuriates me when I’m lied to. The way she told the story, you negotiated for a service, then demanded a different one, and when she declined…” I shake my head as disgust rolls through me. “You took it anyway and hit her in the face. Now, who’s lying? You or her?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I shift forward, gripping the collar of his polo shirt around his neck. “And don’t fucking lie.”

He gulps air, eyes looking anywhere but at me.

“Answer me,” I growl.

“I-I am. I lied.”

“So you ignored her lack of consent and you hit a girl. Is that right, Scott?”

He nods and as he squeezes his eyes shut, I’m fairly certain tears stream down his cheeks, mixing with the warm rain.

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