The blood wouldn't wash off.
Ethan stood under the shower, water pouring over his body in relentless streams.
Cold.
Then hot.
Then cold again.
Didn't matter.
The red was still there.
Not on his skin.
Inside him.
He braced both hands against the tiled wall, breathing uneven.
"I didn't have a choice…"
The words sounded hollow.
Because part of him knew—
That wasn't true.
He had hesitated.
For half a second.
And in that half-second—
He had wanted it.
Ethan shut his eyes tight.
The memory replayed.
His hand.
Inside the man's chest.
The warmth.
The resistance.
The moment it gave way.
His stomach twisted—
Not from disgust.
From something worse.
Craving.
He slammed his fist against the wall.
"Stop."
But the voice answered immediately.
"Why?"
Soft.
Close.
Right behind his ear.
Ethan's body locked.
Slowly—
He turned.
She was there.
Leaning casually against the bathroom door.
As if she had always been.
Same presence.
Same pressure.
But now—
Ethan could see more.
Her silhouette was wrong.
Too precise.
Too perfect.
Her fingers—
Long.
Slender.
Ending in something sharper than nails.
Not human.
"You…" Ethan whispered.
She smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
Knowingly.
"You did well," she said.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"I killed someone."
Her head tilted slightly.
"And?"
The word hit harder than any attack.
Ethan stepped toward her.
Anger rising.
"That's not normal."
She didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
"It is for you now."
Silence.
Ethan stopped.
Something in his chest tightened again.
"No," he said.
But weaker this time.
She pushed off the door slowly.
Walked toward him.
Each step—
Deliberate.
Controlled.
"You're still thinking like prey," she said.
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not prey."
She stopped in front of him.
Close.
Too close.
"Exactly."
Her hand rose—
And pressed lightly against his chest.
Right where his heart pounded.
Ethan froze.
"You're something worse."
His breath caught.
For a moment—
The world dimmed again.
That same silver-black distortion.
His instincts screamed—
Not fear.
Recognition.
"What… are you?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
Instead—
She stepped back.
"Move."
Ethan frowned.
"What?"
"Attack me."
Silence.
Ethan stared at her.
"You're serious?"
A faint smile.
Dangerous.
"Or do you only kill when you're desperate?"
That did it.
Ethan lunged.
Fast.
Faster than before.
His fist cut through the air—
Aimed straight at her throat.
She didn't dodge.
Didn't block.
Didn't move—
Until the last possible moment.
Her hand flicked up—
Barely.
And stopped his attack.
Effortlessly.
Ethan's eyes widened.
"What—"
Too late.
She twisted.
Pain exploded through his arm—
His body flipped—
Slammed into the floor.
Hard.
"Too slow," she said calmly.
Ethan groaned, pushing himself up.
"No," she corrected.
"Too predictable."
He attacked again.
This time—
Different angle.
Lower.
Faster.
She moved again.
Minimal.
Efficient.
Every strike—
Blocked.
Redirected.
Crushed.
Ethan hit the wall again—
Breathing hard.
"Again," she said.
Hours passed.
Or maybe minutes.
Ethan lost track.
Attack.
Fail.
Attack.
Fail.
Over.
And over.
His body adapted.
His movements sharpened.
His senses expanded.
He could hear her shift her weight.
Predict her angles.
React faster.
But it still wasn't enough.
Never enough.
Finally—
He collapsed to one knee.
"Why…" he breathed.
She looked down at him.
"Because you're being hunted."
Silence.
Ethan looked up.
"What?"
Her eyes—
Not human.
Not anything natural.
"There are rules," she said.
"Rules?" Ethan repeated.
She nodded slightly.
"Everything that exists like you…"
"Aberrations."
The word felt wrong.
Heavy.
"…is part of a system."
Ethan frowned.
"I didn't sign up for anything."
She smiled faintly.
"No one does."
She turned slightly—
Looking toward the city beyond the walls.
"There are three types," she continued.
"Prey."
"Hunters."
"And…"
She glanced back at him.
"Something in between."
Ethan's chest tightened.
"That's me?"
She didn't answer directly.
"You survived first contact."
"You killed a handler."
"You're evolving."
Each word—
A verdict.
"That puts you on every list that matters."
Ethan stood slowly.
"What lists?"
She looked at him.
"Kill lists."
A cold silence filled the room.
Ethan's pulse slowed.
Not from calm.
From focus.
"How many?" he asked.
She smiled again.
"Enough."
Ethan exhaled slowly.
"So what—"
"I just keep killing until I survive?"
She stepped closer again.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No comfort.
"Or you die."
Ethan let out a quiet laugh.
"Great system."
She leaned in slightly.
"It works."
Silence again.
Then—
Ethan asked the real question.
"Where do you fit?"
For the first time—
She paused.
Then smiled.
"I make the rules."
Something in Ethan's chest dropped.
That wasn't a joke.
That wasn't arrogance.
That was truth.
His phone buzzed again.
Ethan frowned—
Pulled it out.
Another message.
Same unknown sender.
"You've been marked."
Another one—
"Survive the next 24 hours."
A final message—
"Then we'll talk."
Ethan looked up.
"She's not the only one watching you," she said softly.
Ethan's grip tightened around the phone.
"How many sides are there?"
Her answer came immediately.
"Too many."
Outside—
Somewhere in the distance—
A siren wailed.
Then another.
Then—
Silence.
Ethan stepped toward the window.
The city looked the same.
But now—
He knew.
It wasn't.
Behind him—
She watched.
Patient.
Amused.
Hungry.
"Run," she whispered.
"Let's see how long you last."
Ethan didn't turn around.
Didn't answer.
But his reflection in the glass—
Was no longer human.
And this time—
He didn't look away.