The grip on Ethan's shoulder wasn't human.
It burned.
Not just heat—something deeper. It sank through fabric, through skin, into bone. The claws didn't just press. They tested. Curved, precise, grazing his collarbone with surgical intent.
"Don't move."
The voice vibrated against his skull, low and wrong, like it didn't belong to a human throat.
"No…" Ethan rasped.
His legs gave out—but the hand held him upright.
Like meat on a hook.
The predator leaned in.
The scent was overwhelming now.
Crushed pine. Wet earth. Blood—fresh, metallic, alive.
"You've been running well, little rabbit," the man murmured, inhaling deeply at Ethan's neck. "All this way. Thinking steel and lights could hide you."
Ethan's heart slammed against his ribs.
Thump. Crack. Thump. Crack.
"Please…" he choked.
A dry chuckle brushed his ear.
"'Please' is for the weak."
A claw traced upward—shoulder to throat—light, deliberate.
It didn't cut deep.
Just enough.
A bead of blood slid down his skin.
The man followed it with his tongue.
Slow.
Intentional.
"You…" he whispered, almost reverent. "You are something else."
He stepped in front of Ethan, forcing him back against the iron pillar.
Face to face now.
Too close.
The man's body shifted under the flickering light—muscle tightening, skin glistening, eyes no longer amber but molten gold. A vertical slit narrowed as it focused on him.
"She'll be pleased," he said, smiling wider.
His teeth moved.
Lengthened.
Sharpened.
"I didn't believe her," he continued softly. "Thought you were just another tired little clerk."
She.
The word flickered through Ethan's mind—
—and vanished.
Because something inside him moved.
It started deep.
A cold weight in his chest—
Then—
It shattered.
Flicker.
The lights died.
For a heartbeat—
The world didn't go dark.
It changed.
Silver.
Violet.
Sharp.
Alive.
Ethan could see everything.
Every scratch in the metal. Every pulse beneath the man's skin. Every twitch of muscle before it happened.
And he could hear—
The train miles away.
The rats in the walls.
The breath in the predator's lungs.
Heavy.
Wet.
Hungry.
"What's this?" the man murmured, eyes narrowing. "The rabbit bites?"
His hand snapped to Ethan's throat.
Squeezed.
Air vanished.
Ethan's vision warped.
Not fading—
Breaking.
"You're worth more than you think," the creature growled, face shifting, bones cracking under skin. "But I think I'll take a taste first."
The jaw opened.
Too wide.
Too wrong.
Heat poured from it like a furnace.
The fangs pressed against Ethan's neck.
Sharp.
Cold.
Then—
A point broke skin.
Ethan felt it.
The puncture.
The blood.
And something inside him—
Answered.
Something snapped.
Not in the world—
Inside him.
Heat exploded through his body.
Not warmth—
Molten.
Violent.
Unstoppable.
Pain tore through him—muscles ripping, bones grinding, something ancient forcing its way through flesh that wasn't ready.
No.
The word wasn't a thought.
It was instinct.
His arm moved.
Too fast.
Too strong.
CRACK.
His hand locked around the predator's wrist.
The creature froze.
Ethan felt it—
Bone.
Tension.
Resistance.
And beneath it—
Weakness.
For one terrifying second—
He knew—
He could crush it.
"No…" Ethan said.
But the voice—
Wasn't his.
The creature pulled.
Failed.
"What are you…?" it hissed.
Ethan didn't answer.
He couldn't.
His mind was drowning in red.
In hunger.
In something that wanted—
More.
He shoved.
Not a strike.
Not a punch.
An explosion.
The predator flew.
A full-grown monster hurled across the platform like nothing.
Metal screamed as it slammed into trash cans.
Silence.
Ethan stood there.
Breathing hard.
Shaking.
His hands—
Wrong.
Fingers sharper.
Skin faintly glowing with a pale, silver sheen.
Across the platform—
The creature stood again.
Slowly.
No smile now.
It stared at its wrist.
Bruised.
Swelling.
Human-shaped.
"You…" it whispered.
And for the first time—
There was something new in its voice.
Uncertainty.
Fear.
The train roared closer.
Wind tore through the station.
Ethan looked down.
The silver faded.
The strength drained out of him, leaving only cold.
He looked back up.
The creature stepped forward again, rage twisting its features.
"I don't care what she wants," it snarled. "I'll tear you apart—"
The train exploded from the tunnel.
Light.
Noise.
Violence.
Ethan dropped, clutching his head as the sound ripped through him.
Too loud.
Too sharp.
Too much.
When the train stopped—
The platform was empty.
Gone.
The doors opened with a hiss.
Ethan stumbled inside.
Collapsed into a seat.
The doors shut.
The train moved.
For a long moment—
He just breathed.
Then—
He looked up.
The reflection stared back.
Same face.
Same man.
He blinked.
For a fraction of a second—
The reflection didn't match.
His eyes glowed.
Pale.
Silver.
And somewhere deep in his mind—
Something stirred.
A voice.
Not his.
Finally.
Silence.
Then—
Far beyond the train.
Far beyond the city.
Something answered.