If someone had asked me yesterday what my biggest worry was, I probably would have said college applications.
Funny how quickly life can change.
Just one night… and everything is different.
But before the blood. Before the fight. Before the creature that shouldn't exist.
There was only an ordinary evening.
And I was just Kray Ashford.
Nothing more. Nothing special. Just a normal guy trying to figure out his future.
The smell of dinner filled the house as I sat at the table, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone. Mom was in the kitchen, humming softly while she put the finishing touches on the meal. She always hummed when she was relaxed. Something about it was comforting in a way I never really thought about — it just meant everything was fine.
"Kray, stop staring at that screen and come help me with the plates," she said, without even turning around.
I sighed and stood up. "Coming."
My mom, Elena Ashford, had always been a caring person. Maybe that's why she became a veterinarian — she genuinely couldn't stand watching anything suffer. If a stray dog wandered near the house even once, she'd somehow end up feeding it by the end of the week. Our own dog was proof of that.
Rex, a large German Shepherd, was sprawled near the living room doorway, lazily watching everything happening in the house with half-open eyes. The moment he spotted me carrying food, his ears perked up.
"Don't even think about it," I muttered.
His tail wagged anyway.
Hopeless.
"You're talking to the dog again?" a cheerful voice came from behind me.
I turned. My younger sister was leaning against the wall, smiling like she'd caught me doing something embarrassing.
Clara Ashford. Still in school. Somehow more energetic than any human had a right to be.
"At least Rex listens to me," I said.
She placed a hand dramatically over her chest. "I listen!"
"Only when snacks are involved."
"That's not true," she protested. Then paused. "…Okay. Maybe a little."
I smirked.
Clara was the kind of person who could walk into a room and immediately make it feel lighter. Kind, optimistic, a little dramatic, and somehow always convinced that everything would work out fine. I didn't know if that was confidence or just how she was wired, but I'd always found it hard to argue with.
Dad came in shortly after, loosening his tie as he dropped into his chair. Adrian Ashford worked for a construction company and usually came home looking worn down, but without fail, he'd smile the moment he saw us all in the same room.
"Tough day?" Mom asked, setting food on the table.
"When isn't it?" he replied, the corner of his mouth turning up.
We settled into our seats. The kind of moment that doesn't feel important while it's happening — just dinner, just family, just the usual noise of a weeknight. Normal. Comfortable. Safe.
"So," Mom said casually, "how's the college application going?"
There it was.
The question I'd been mentally dodging all day.
"It's fine," I said. Probably too fast.
Clara leaned forward immediately. "That means it's not fine."
"Traitor," I muttered.
Dad smiled slightly. "You don't need to have it all figured out right now. Take your time. Just make the choice that feels right to you."
That was the thing about my parents — they trusted my judgment. Even when I didn't.
"I just don't want to mess it up," I admitted.
"You won't," Mom said, with the kind of certainty that doesn't leave room for argument.
"You literally helped me pass math last year," Clara added. "That alone proves you're capable."
"That says more about your math skills than my reliability."
She kicked my leg under the table.
Rex barked softly from the doorway, ears up, probably hoping something had been dropped.
"Relax," I told him.
Dad leaned back slightly, watching me. "You've always looked out for your sister."
Clara grinned. "Because I'm amazing."
"Because you attract trouble," I corrected.
She opened her mouth to argue but couldn't quite get there. There had been incidents. Arguments, school situations, moments where someone needed to step in. And I had, every time. Not because I liked conflict — I didn't — but because some things were worth protecting.
"You've got a good head on your shoulders," Dad said. "We trust you."
Trust.
Such a small word to carry so much weight.
Hearing it didn't make things easier — if anything, it made the pressure sit heavier in my chest. Expectations didn't scare me. Disappointing the people who counted on me did.
Dinner moved on. Clara talked about school. Mom mentioned a difficult surgery from earlier in the day. Dad shared a story about a worksite incident that had thankfully ended without anyone getting hurt. Ordinary conversation. The kind you take for granted.
Looking back now, I wonder if that was the last truly peaceful evening I'd ever have.
Later that night, the house went quiet.
Clara retreated to her room. Mom finished cleaning the kitchen. Dad sat at the table going through work documents, his reading glasses low on his nose.
Rex followed me upstairs without being asked.
"You're getting too old to escort me everywhere," I told him.
He ignored me. Typical.
In my room, I stared at the college application open on my laptop. Deadlines. Choices. A future I couldn't quite picture yet. My thoughts kept spinning without going anywhere useful, the same few worries cycling back around no matter how many times I tried to work through them.
I needed air.
Quietly, I changed clothes and waited for the lights in the house to go dim. Sneaking out wasn't difficult when everyone trusted you — though that trust made it feel a little worse every time.
"Just a walk," I told myself. "Clear my head."
Rex watched from the foot of my bed as I moved toward the window, his ears low.
"No," I said softly. "You're staying."
He looked at me with those big, sad eyes.
I felt immediately guilty.
Why did dogs have to be so expressive?
"I'll be back soon."
The night met me with cool, quiet air.
The streets were mostly empty, streetlights casting long amber pools across the pavement. I walked without direction, just moving, letting the rhythm of it settle my thoughts the way it always did. Step by step. Breath by breath. College didn't feel quite so impossible. The future felt a little less like a wall.
I didn't know that something else had arrived in this world that same night.
Something that wasn't supposed to be here.
Something looking for a way to survive.
I stopped near a narrow alley.
Something made me slow down — not a sound exactly, more of a feeling. A faint metallic smell in the air, sharp and out of place. The kind of thing that doesn't make sense until it's too late.
My instincts moved before my thoughts did.
Something was wrong.
I just had no idea how wrong.
And in a few moments, everything would change.