Monster

"Charles," I greeted, my voice steady, though the weight of our shared history hung heavily between us. His expression, however, remained unreadable.

The air between us was thick, charged with tension that slithered into every shadow of the dimly lit alley. I could sense it, feel the flicker of unspoken truths beneath Charles' cold, calculated exterior.

"Sam," he replied, the words rolling off his tongue with a deliberate slowness. "I wish I could say it’s good to see you."

His eyes darted, a flicker of something unreadable as he glanced at the man standing beside him. The stranger was silent, observing, his eyes sharp and curious. His features were striking, almost too distinct, like a carved statue come to life. He looked like he hailed from some African country at birth, but who knew how old he was… or what he was? I could tell from his physical form that he must have spent years honing his body to perfection; his dark skin taught over bulging muscles that formed his body. Even for a supernatural being, he looked like the most physically dominating person I’d ever seen… in human form at least. His long, thick dreadlocks reminded me of the old predator movies like he was some kind of alien hunter from another world. Okay maybe only in hairstyle… but still. The resemblance was striking. He had perfected his body, pushing it to the peak and beyond with whatever powers he possessed. But his eyes lingered on me, studying the blackness that swallowed mine whole.

The frozen alley seemed to hum with a quiet menace, the silence crackling as they both stared at me. Charles, I could tell, was wary. The tension in his posture, the slight shifting of his weight… he knew. He knew what I was capable of, and what I would do if pushed. But there was something else…

The stranger, though, was different. He didn’t have the same fear. Instead, there was something darker in his curiosity, an almost palpable hunger for understanding. A slow, knowing grin curled at the corner of his mouth as he looked between Charles and me, as if sensing the unspoken truths.

"Do you know this man?" the stranger asked Charles, his voice smooth but laced with a subtle challenge. His eyes flickered between us, savoring the moment like he was on the cusp of unraveling some twisted secret. He re-examined my eyes, scratching his chin as he thought introspectively.

Charles’ jaw clenched, his fangs sliding out just enough to catch the light. Fear flickered, just for a heartbeat, and I saw it, his fast, animal-like instinct to survive. His usual cool demeanor was crumbling, ever so slightly, beneath the weight of whatever thoughts now raced through his head.

The stranger’s gaze never wavered, his eyes boring into Charles, demanding an answer. But I could see it… Charles was trapped, caught between me and this other figure, the secrets he held pressing down on him like a suffocating weight. He knew he’d been found out. The lie he’d told, that I had been “taken care of” when he first came to town. He looked like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The stranger’s smile widened; an unsettling grin that hinted at something far more sinister than his words. His eyes gleamed as he turned to face me, studying me like I was some rare specimen. Each movement was deliberate, slow, as he began pacing around me, sizing me up with an air of superiority.

"You're something special, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. He circled me like a predator, his eyes never leaving mine, watching for the slightest reaction. “You've been causing quite a bit of trouble,” he added, the words dripping with amusement.

His pacing stopped suddenly, and he glanced over at Charles, a mocking grin twisting his features. "Not as much trouble as old Charles here, though." He shot the vampire a pointed look, his tone almost casual, like we were all just having a friendly chat. But the atmosphere was anything but friendly, thick with tension and the unspoken threat lingering between us all.

Charles tensed, and I could see it… a flicker of something dark in his eyes. His face contorted, lips pulling back in a snarl as his eyes pulsed red. His fangs shot out with a swift, unnatural shift, his vampiric visage fully emerging. The air around him seemed to hum with the sudden, raw power of his transformation. Every muscle in his body was taut, coiled with aggression as he faced the stranger.

Alex, standing beside me, shifted uneasily. I could sense her uncertainty, feel the confusion radiating off her. She knew something was off, something deeper than we had anticipated. Her eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, we shared the same unspoken question. What the hell is happening?

But her expression told me enough, she knew as little as I did about the full extent of the situation unraveling in front of us. Whatever plan she had, it hadn’t accounted for this. She had led them to me, but she didn’t know what she was bringing.

The stranger's grin faded slightly, his expression growing colder as he squared off with Charles. "We've known for a while," he said, voice dropping to a more ominous tone. "That you've been dirtying your hands in tasks you were meant to complete. You were given time, Charles, tasks to perform before your end. But..." He paused, a dark amusement flickering behind his eyes. "I don’t think the elders will find much fault in me for deciding that your time is up now."

He adjusted his stance, sharp and purposeful, his body language shifting from casual to predatory. His eyes locked onto Charles, and in that moment, the threat was no longer veiled. It was a clear challenge.

The alley seemed to shrink, the space between them narrowing, though neither moved. Every breath felt heavy with anticipation, every second stretching unbearably long. The air crackled with the tension of an inevitable clash, like two storms building to collide.

Charles’ eyes glowed brighter, the snarl deepening in his throat. The stranger’s calm, collected demeanor was a stark contrast to the coiled violence in Charles' form. Yet, beneath his stillness, I could feel it… the stranger was just as deadly, just as ready to strike.

There was no telling who would make the first move, but the weight of the impending violence hung over us all. I could sense it in every fiber of my being; the fragile line between tense negotiation and brutal conflict was about to snap.

The stranger barely acknowledged me or Alex, his attention completely fixed on the silver-haired man standing in front of him. It was like we didn’t exist in his world, our presence a mere afterthought in the face of something far more important. I could sense the undercurrent of power between him and Charles, a silent exchange that crackled in the air like static before a storm.

Then, something strange happened.

His dark skin began to ripple, a subtle, eerie movement that made my face contort in disgust. At first, it was just a faint twitch, like the scruff on an animal rising when it’s provoked, but it quickly grew more pronounced. The surface of his flesh seemed to buckle, scrunching up in irregular waves as if something beneath his skin was struggling to break free. It was unsettling, unnatural… the way his muscles and bones shifted underneath the surface, their movement hidden but unmistakable.

A sudden wave of fluctuation spread across his entire body, a slow rolling tide of change that gripped him from head to toe. His very form seemed to quiver, and within the span of a few seconds, his entire frame began to shift. The transformation was eerily smooth like his flesh was being molded by invisible hands. His broad shoulders collapsed inward, muscles shrinking, bones grinding and readjusting with a sickening efficiency. His spine curved, cracking audibly as he hunched over, his once-powerful posture collapsing into something far smaller, weaker.

I watched, transfixed, as he began to shrink, his towering height rapidly diminishing until what stood before us was no longer the muscular man who had exuded raw strength and menace. Instead, there stood a frail-looking old woman.

Her white hair was cropped to her shoulders, strands dull and thin, swaying slightly as she moved. Her skin was paper-thin, old, and creased with deep lines, the texture like fragile parchment that seemed as though it would tear with the slightest touch. The veins beneath her skin were faintly visible, winding like delicate cracks across the surface. She exuded an eerie, unsettling presence that was somehow more menacing in her frailty than the towering figure she had been moments before.

Her eyes, once sharp and vibrant, had faded to a dull silver; almost hollow, as though time itself had drained the color from them. They locked onto Charles with a strange, intense focus, unblinking as she studied him. There was something about her gaze, something that spoke of familiarity to Charles… like he should recognize this woman.

Charles, for all his strength and experience, seemed momentarily shaken by the transformation. He didn't move, but I could see the faint flicker of shock in his eyes, the hesitation in his stance. Whoever this woman was… whatever she represented… it unnerved him, and that was enough to tell me that she was someone close to him.

The silence in the tight alleyway stretched unbearably, the weight of her presence pressing down on us. It was as though the very air had grown thick and suffocating, heavy with the knowledge that we were standing before something far stranger, and far evil than Alex and I expected.

Charles’s expression twisted in disbelief, his usually composed face now frozen in shock. His eyes widened, recognition dawning as he stared at the frail figure before him. Whatever memory she dredged up from his past, had knocked the defiance from his posture. The sight of her seemed to chip away at the strength he had called upon.

The elderly woman’s voice was a raspy whisper, but the weight of her words cut through the cold night air like a knife. “We’ve known the reason for your betrayal for a while now, Charles... Your family, the ones you’ve been trying to hide from us…” Her voice trembled with age, but there was something cold and knowing in it. The kind of tone that sent a chill down the spine, the kind that came from someone who had lived far too long and done far too much.

In the dim, frozen alley, her features were even more unsettling. I could make out the coarse stubble that sprouted unevenly from her chin; just a few wiry hairs, longer than the rest, like the unfortunate quirks of aging flesh. It was such a mundane detail, yet in this context, it felt grotesque. This... thing had just morphed into an old woman, from the towering, muscular man before. How? My mind raced with questions… how had she done that? How did she look exactly like him earlier? Was this her true form? Or was there no "real" form at all?

She ignored Alex and me entirely, her attention consumed by Charles, as though we were insignificant insects beneath her notice. As she began to move, the very fabric of her being seemed to ripple and warp again. Her wrinkled, papery skin twisted unnaturally, limbs contorting as she walked, her frail body shifting in grotesque, liquid motion. The transformation was slow at first, painfully slow, as though every inch of her was fighting against itself.

I watched, horrified yet unable to look away, as blood and an oily black substance ran out from her pores, spilling across her flesh as it reshaped, and then retreating quickly inside. The changes spread across her form like a disease, distorting her limbs in ways that defied logic. Bones stretched and elongated, skin warping like melted wax, her entire body shuddering under the strain of the grotesque transformation. Whatever dark magic or ability she was using, it was like her very flesh was unraveling and reforming in exactly the way she wanted.

Within moments, the frail woman was gone, replaced by something far more nightmarish.

A tall, lanky figure now stood in the alley… a man, but barely. His skin was sickly pale, almost translucent in the dim light, with uneven, pitch-black hair that hung in jagged strands around his gaunt face. His eyes were hollow, sunken into his skull, and his mouth curled into a twisted grin that sent a wave of revulsion through me.

But it was his arm… the arm that wasn’t an arm anymore that truly sent a weird intrigue flooding through my mind.

Halfway up his forearm, the skin had split open like overripe fruit, revealing raw muscle and exposed tendons beneath. The bone itself jutted out from the wound, twisted and warped unnaturally, transforming into a weapon forged from his own skeleton. The jagged edges of bone extended outward, flattened into the profile of a large, brutal blade. It was irregular and misshapen, yet disturbingly sharp, the edges glistening with a dark, oily substance that dripped steadily from the blade’s tip. The liquid, thick and black, oozed like blood, but it carried with it an unnatural sheen, as though it was something far more specific.

Whatever he… it… was, this thing before us was no ordinary being. Its very presence felt wrong, a dark mockery of human form. Every inch of him screamed danger, a violent predator barely contained by the thin veneer of flesh. And as his hollow, silver eyes fixated on Charles, I knew that whatever was about to happen next, there would be blood.

The silence in the alley was deafening, the tension thick enough to suffocate. Charles, for all his power, stood frozen, his eyes locked on the monstrous figure that now paced before him. Whatever history they shared, whatever secrets had been buried, they were now laid bare, and the price for that betrayal was looming dangerously close.

The old woman’s voice vanished, replaced by a deep, guttural male voice to match the twisted form standing before us. “I think it’s time we call this a wrap,” he growled, his tone low and dripping with threat.

And then he moved… faster than I expected. He lunged at Charles with a brutal, animalistic fury, his body a blur of motion. The transformation had made him faster, stronger, and terrifyingly precise. His left hand shot out, fingers elongating grotesquely mid-stride. They stretched into prehensile tendrils of flesh, writhing and twisting like something from a nightmare. They coiled around Charles with shocking speed, wrapping him up in their web-like grasp. The tendrils seemed to melt and fuse together, mutating into a grotesque mass of meat and bone that bound Charles tight, trapping him like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

The man’s arm, now a blade of twisted bone, gleamed with that oily sheen, raised high, ready to deliver the killing blow. The point of the jagged weapon aimed squarely at Charles’s heart, its descent swift and brutal. My mind raced to comprehend the grotesque transformation I’d just witnessed. The moment I knew I needed to make a move… I got beat. Alex was already moving.

While I stood there, dumbstruck and useless, she had sprung into action with the quick thinking that I should’ve had, not the morbid curiosity. She darted toward the crumbling wall, yanking a rusted piece of metal from an old electrical box barely clinging to the alley wall. The steel panel screeched as it tore free, the rust flaking away in thick chunks as she wielded it like a makeshift ninja star.

In one swift, fluid motion, Alex hurled the three-foot-long shard of metal with deadly accuracy. The rusted steel spun through the air, whistling like a blade, and connected with the creature’s arm just above the elbow. The bone blade, poised to pierce Charles’s chest, was severed clean off, the stump spraying dark, oily blood as the appendage tumbled to the ground.

The creature roared in agony, a guttural sound that echoed off the alley walls and sent shivers down my spine. His grotesque arm fell to the cold ground with a sickening thud, still twitching as if it hadn’t yet realized it was no longer attached. Dark fluid oozed from the severed limb, pooling beneath the discarded bone blade as the creature stumbled back, flailing the bleeding stump where his weapon had once been.

The tendrils of flesh that had bound Charles began to unravel, melting away like wax under a flame. The instant the creature was struck, it seemed to lose control of the strange form it had woven around Charles, the flesh dissolving into a sludgy mess that slithered off his body and hit the ground with a sickening splatter. Charles stumbled free, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with shock but his mind already working, calculating.

“Get rid of that arm!” Charles shouted, his voice urgent, cutting through the creature’s howls of pain. “If he gets it back, he’ll absorb it... and heal completely!” His warning was frantic but clear, the significance of it obvious. If we didn’t destroy that severed limb, the creature would just reattach it, regenerating as though nothing had happened.

The strange man… no, thing, cursed under his breath, clutching his bleeding stump, and retreated a few steps. The look in his hollow eyes was one of rage, but beneath it, I saw something else. Panic. He hadn’t planned for Alex, the far stronger anthropophagus vampire. Alex had caught him off guard, disrupted his plan, and now he was scrambling. But even with his arm missing, the threat he posed hadn’t diminished.

I snapped out of my stupor, heart pounding as I realized what had to be done. The creature wasn’t finished yet, and if we didn’t act quickly, we’d be back at square one.

I stopped fucking around. No more hesitation, no more standing like some dumb observer. I darted toward that grotesque, severed arm-blade. My heart was pounding, adrenaline surging at this strange turn of events. This was something new… and it had me excited. The thing was still twitching on the ground, the bone clattering against the dumpster to its side as it spasmed. It was a mangled mess of oily blood, bone, and meat; something that shouldn't even exist. But I didn’t think… I just acted.

I grabbed the slick, bloody appendage, fingers slipping on the strange fleshy tendrils that still seemed half-alive, and lifted it. The jagged bone edge, sharp as hell and covered in that dark, viscous ooze, dug into my palm as I yanked it up. I could feel the unnatural cold of it, like touching a dead thing, lifeless yet brimming with some malevolent energy. It was nasty.

I heaved the severed arm back and hurled it with every ounce of strength I had. It flew, spiraling wildly through the air like some grotesque missile, slicing through the night sky as it rocketed above the darkened alley. The thing sailed high, disappearing beyond the rooftops of the crumbling buildings, too far and fast for the creature to reclaim. I didn’t know where it would land. Then I heard a sickening wet slap as the twisted limb hit pavement somewhere far beyond us. It was followed by a distant scream, sharp and panicked. I winced at the sound, of flesh smacking against concrete.

The creature let out an enraged howl, a guttural, inhuman noise that echoed through the alley. His remaining hand clawed at the air, fingers trembling as if trying to will the severed limb back to him. But it was too late. That piece of him was gone… lost in the dark, out of his reach.

A flicker of something twisted crossed his face, frustration boiling beneath the surface as his hollow eyes darted from me to where the arm had disappeared. His chest heaved with labored breaths, oily blood still pouring from the stump where his bladed arm had once been. He wasn’t dead, not yet. But the rage twisting his features told me he was about to make his next move.

Alex and Charles tore into him with a savage fury that left no room for hesitation. They rushed him in a blur of vampiric speed, staying on the advantage. The second they had him pinned to the wall, it was pure, unrelenting carnage. Alex’s razor-sharp claws plunged into his chest with brutal efficiency, over and over again, her face twisted in a snarl of bloodlust. Each time she pulled back, her hands came out dripping, clutching chunks of flesh and muscle that she ripped fresh from his body. The sick, wet sounds of tearing meat filled the alley, each brutal thrust splattering blood across the filthy brickwork. She was a monster made manifest, no hesitation, no remorse; she had a single-minded purpose… destroy… kill!

The remnants of the man’s severed arm, the grotesque stump that hung at his side, was already starting to regenerate. Long ropes of slimy, blood-slick tendons and sinew knitting together, trying desperately to form new muscle. It was a horrifying sight, watching the raw flesh stretch and twitch as if it had a mind of its own, inching toward rebuilding itself. But every time he struggled, every time he gathered the strength to resist, Charles was there, delivering bone-shattering blows that sent blood flying and flesh tearing.

Charles, with a ferocity that spoke of his ancient nature, hammered his fists into the creature’s face, ribs, and anything within reach. The vampire’s strikes were powerful, each one landing with a nauseating crunch. His fists were smeared in gore, casting specks of blood and bone against the wall where they held him. The man howled in pain, his cries cutting through the night like the dying wail of something not quite human. This ancient vampire… one of the oldest I’d encountered, had to combine his strength with Alex’s feral brutality just to hold him down. It was a bloody, desperate struggle. This thing was strong.

Every piece of him they tore off was thrown across the alley, littering the ground like discarded trash. Limbs, chunks of flesh, entrails… they scattered around me, splashing in puddles of blood, turning the alley into a butcher’s nightmare. I wasn’t fighting; I was there to keep those dismembered parts away from him. I stood watch over the oily masses of tissue, watching as the body parts twitched, a sick fascination twisting my gut. Every time they tore another piece of him free, I could see the effort his body made to regenerate… to cling to life. But it was becoming harder for him, slower.

His skin started to pale, the color draining as more of him was torn apart. The once vibrant, regenerating flesh turned sickly, limp. The severed pieces strewn across the alley began to rot. The flesh collapsed in on itself, decomposing in real-time, turning to a black, slimy mush. Chunks of muscle and bone dissolved into a putrid sludge, like rotting fruit that had been left too long in the sun. The stench of decay hit the air, thick and suffocating. His body lost the fight, piece by piece until all that was left of him was a spreading pool of oily, bloody muck.

It seeped across the ground, dark and foul, like a rancid oil spill mixed with coagulated blood, spreading slowly through the alley as the remnants of his existence dissolved into nothing. It bled into the snow… melting it, creating a stench that wafted up in the rising steam of his fluids.

We all stood around the husk of what remained. Alex and Charles breathed deeply, actually pushing themselves as they fought this thing. I just stood there in the gore, almost completely clean.

“What the hell, Sam?” Alex snapped, glaring at me as she slung blood from her hands.

“What?”

“You didn’t help. You just stood there, kicking legs around,” she shot back, clearly annoyed.

“Someone had to do it,” I said with a grin.

Charles, still catching his breath, cut in. “He had to. If he didn’t, that thing would’ve reabsorbed the pieces. Shapeshifters are tough… they can regenerate instantly if they touch what they’ve lost.”

“That was a shapeshifter?” I asked, my mind flashing to Seth and his talk about the Chasse family being shapeshifters. I'd have to check in with him. See what he knew… if he had faced them… or maybe it was just something Peter told him.

“Yes,” Charles replied, his voice heavy. “His name was Yanish.” He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “This is bad…”

“Who was he? Why did he turn on you?” Alex asked. “I thought you two were here for Sam.”

“He was... but I think he was also assigned to confirm my betrayal,” Charles said darkly. “When they heard about another black-eyed creature killing vampires and slaughtering indiscriminately, they suspected it was the same kind they first sent me after. The elders put me back on the hunt, thinking I had... experience with your kind.” He glanced at me, tension in his expression. “They’ve always known I didn’t kill you before, after you took down Mercy and Phineas. They knew that if something could kill them, I’d have stood no chance. Yanish saw your black eyes, Sam. He knew. And if the elders see you, they’ll know I lied. They probably already know… or will very soon.” Charles paced, eyes flicking over the gory remnants on the ground.

The frozen ground was starting to thaw completely, steam rising from the heat of the dissolving body and melting ice.

“We need to move,” Charles muttered. “We can talk somewhere… cleaner.” In a blink, he vanished, moving too fast for the human eye to see.

Alex and I exchanged a look, then glanced down at the carnage.

“You owe me new clothes,” Alex said, holding up her arms, slick with blood and slime. Her jeans and shirt weren’t faring any better.

“Me? Why? I didn’t tell you to tear him apart.”

“You lured them here. Hence, your fault,” she shot back before disappearing in a blur, following Charles.

I smirked, enjoying the banter, and chased after her, leaving the bloody alley behind.