Morning slowly drew back its curtain. From the eastern horizon, sunlight spilled in gentle waves, washing the land of West Virginia in a warm, golden glow. Dew at the tips of leaves glittered like tiny pearls, while the morning breeze whispered softly through the gaps between the trees.

  The townspeople began stepping out into their daily routines. Some hurried toward work with a cup of coffee in hand. Others patiently watered their gardens, breathing in the crisp air. A few jogged along the silent roads, their steady footsteps breaking the fragile calm of dawn. Elsewhere, a handful of weary yet relieved faces appeared—those who had just returned from working through the night, hoping for a brief rest before the day grew busy again.

  But far from the noise of human settlements, on the bank of a rushing river surrounded by ancient oak trees, several men in leather jackets stood waiting. They said nothing, watching the endless current.

  “The scent ends here. He probably went into the forest,” one of them said.

  “Or maybe not,” another replied. They all turned toward a man scraping at the stony ground with the tip of his shoe.

  “He was attacked.”

  “By who?”

  Before he could answer, an object was tossed into the middle of them. None of them were startled. They simply looked at it calmly.

  “He was attacked by that bear,” said a tall, broad man stepping out of the forest, wiping bear blood from his hands—the blood of a brown bear he had just killed.

  “If that’s true, Marcus… he won’t survive. Maybe his body’s already been swept away by the river,” another said with certainty.

  Marcus shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the relentless water.

  “No. He was alive when he fell from that height,” he said quietly. “There’s no way a bear attack could kill her. We follow this river until we find his new trail.”

  “All right.”

  Without wasting another moment, they moved again. Two days they had been tracking Hanna, and they were not ready to stop.

  They ran along the riverbank with agile strides, leaping easily from stone to stone. There were six of them—big, tall men in leather jackets—yet their movements were light, like trained athletes.

  After covering some distance, the man in front suddenly raised his hand, signaling them to stop. The others obeyed instantly.

  “The smell of blood… it’s very strong.”

  “Which direction?”

  He inhaled deeply, turning his head, hunting for the source.

  “There.” He pointed across the river.

  “Track that place. Quickly,” Marcus ordered sharply.

  The man nodded, leaping across the wide river without trouble. One by one, the others followed. They ran again, this time weaving through thick clusters of oak branches.

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  Soon they emerged from the forest and stopped behind an old wooden house. The man in front moved on, following the scent that grew clearer with every step. They rounded the house and saw a small settlement—rows of wooden homes standing apart from one another, silent, with no sign of life.

  “That house,” the tracker said, pointing to a two-story wooden home.

  “Macro, Savage, Rico—check it.”

  “Understood, Marcus,” they answered in unison before moving toward the house.

  Marcus walked slowly, studying the surroundings. One by one, he examined the houses. His steps halted when his eyes fell on the stony path beneath his feet.

  “What is it, Marcus?” one follower asked.

  Marcus didn’t answer. He bent down, picked up a stone, and sniffed it slowly. His brow tightened before he let out a rough breath.

  “The girl’s blood is on this stone… still wet.”

  Hearing their leader’s words, the two men beside him followed the path to investigate further.

  Marcus watched them, then turned his gaze toward a wooden house not far away. He could sense the presence of people inside—the sharp smell of fear clinging to the air.

  “Marcus!”

  He looked back at the two men standing beneath the ancient oaks.

  “Well?”

  “I’m sure, Marcus… the girl entered this forest,” one said.

  “But the blood we found isn’t all hers,” added the other. “It’s mixed with someone else’s.”

  “Call them back,” Marcus ordered.

  One of them put two fingers into his mouth.

  “Fiiiiii…!”

  The shrill whistle echoed through the trees. The three of them waited. Soon, three men came running toward them.

  “You won’t believe what we found, Marcus,” said the man with the scar on his right cheek—Rico.

  “What happened?”

  “Everyone in that house is dead. Claw marks and bite wounds all over their bodies… like they were killed by our own kind.”

  Savage, his beard thick, added, “Edward’s child can already change into our species, Marcus.”

  Marcus fell silent for a moment, his face hard as stone, weighing something unseen.

  “We have to move fast. I want that girl captured immediately… before they find her.”

  Marco suddenly chuckled. “Impossible. They’ll never find her before we do.”

  “Hey, Marco. Don’t forget where we are.”

  “Yeah, I know. But they’re only ordinary humans—they don’t have abilities like ours,” Marco replied, Marcus’s cousin.

  “Yes. They are ordinary humans…” Marcus’s voice was firm and sharp. “What worries me… is their ability to restrain our transformation. Fool.”

  “Yeah, yeah… I know, bro. Don’t get mad so fast.”

  “Huh!” Marcus snorted, turning to stare into the forest ahead. “We move now. We must kill her quickly.”

  __________

  “Hah… hah… hah…”

  Hanna’s breath came in broken gasps, yet she kept running, limping. Since last night she had not stopped once, ignoring the wounds on her feet from sharp twigs and rough stones hidden in the forest floor.

  Sweat soaked her face. Every time her eyelids drooped, she shook her head hard, forcing herself to stay awake.

  She glanced left and right, trying to find a way to escape… but she didn’t know where to go. Her face twisted, almost surrendering. Her mind was still haunted by Martha’s death and the others—who killed them, and why was she the only one left alive?

  “Aaaargh!”

  At last she stopped. Her knees trembled.

  “Aaaargh! Mom! Mom!… I’m tired… I’m so tired…”

  Hanna’s cries echoed through the forest, sending birds resting on old oak branches scattering into the air.

  “Aaaargh… why is all of this happening to me, Mom… why? I’m scared, Mom… I’m scared…!”

  She sobbed without end until her vision blurred beneath her own tears. She staggered forward again, directionless, unaware of what waited ahead.

  A few more steps…

  The ground beneath her feet suddenly vanished.

  “Urgh—!”

  Her scream choked off.

  Her body slipped down a deep slope. Soil, stones, and dry leaves rushed with her. She tried to grab a branch, but her fingers slipped away.

  Her body spun wildly.

  Dumm!

  Her shoulder slammed into a tree trunk.

  Krak!

  The sound of cracking bone echoed through the forest.

  She was flung again, striking a rock, then another tree. Her breath caught, the world spinning madly around her.

  At last, her body crashed at the bottom of the slope.

  Everything fell silent.

  Only her faint breathing… and the slowing beat of her heart.

  This time, she could only lie still. Her eyes remained open… then slowly, gently, they closed.