Moonshadow Abyss

Jack sat in the corner of the abandoned building, his forehead resting against his knees, fingers digging into his hair.

His entire body trembled. The hunger in his gut hadn't fully faded, and deep in his throat, that craving still lingered…

A craving for blood.

He tried to steady his breathing, to calm himself, but Elliot's voice kept echoing in his mind—

"You were always a monster."

His fists clenched tightly, knuckles turning white.

No. No, that's not right… I'm not a monster… I'm not…

But if he wasn't—then who was the person in that photograph?

Had he really… killed someone?

"…Jack."

Aisha's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

She crouched in front of him, holding out a bottle of water.

Jack didn't take it.

Aisha glanced at him, sighed lightly, and set the bottle on the ground. Her voice was calm.

"If you want to give up on yourself, just let me know. I won't stop you."

Jack's shoulders stiffened slightly.

Slowly, he lifted his head, looking at her. His voice was hoarse.

"What do you mean?"

Aisha sat down against the wall, hugging her knees, her tone indifferent.

"If you truly believe you're a monster, then just become one."

She turned her head, meeting his gaze directly.

"Kill people. Tear everything apart. No more pain, no more struggle. Just like any other werewolf."

Jack's breath caught in his throat.

She was pushing him…

No. She was testing him.

He didn't answer. He only lowered his head and murmured, his voice rough.

"…Do you think I will?"

Aisha's expression didn't change.

"I don't know."

Her answer was blunt. Cold.

Jack suddenly let out a quiet laugh, but there was something bitter in it.

"So… you still don't trust me."

Aisha was silent for a moment, then said slowly,

"It's not that I don't trust you."

"It's that you don't trust yourself."

Jack's smile froze.

Silence settled between them.

After a long time, he spoke in a low voice.

"Aisha… if one day, I really lose control…"

"…Will you kill me?"

Aisha didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

Her tone was steady, without a trace of doubt.

Jack's heart sank, as if something cold and heavy had wrapped around it.

He slowly lifted his head to look at her.

Her expression was unreadable. There was no hatred in her eyes, no sadness.

Only a calm, inevitable certainty.

As if she had already made this decision a long time ago.

"…I see." Jack let out a quiet laugh, void of any emotion.

Aisha didn't say anything else. She stood up and dusted off her clothes.

"We need to go."

"The werewolf hunters won't let you off so easily."

Jack didn't move.

Aisha glanced at him, frowning slightly.

"You're not planning to just sit here and wait for death, are you?"

Jack slowly got to his feet, raising his head to look out the window at the pitch-black night sky. His gaze was deep, unreadable.

Softly, he said,

"No, I won't."

He wouldn't just sit and wait to die.

But he wouldn't run, either.

—He was going to find the truth.

Who was pulling the strings?

Who wanted him to believe he was a monster?

And who was the real monster?

Nightfall

The night was as dark as ink, shrouding the ruined corners of the city.

Aisha walked ahead, her steps firm and swift, while Jack followed in silence, his mind still a chaotic mess.

They had to lay low for now. The werewolf hunters wouldn't stop so easily. And Jack… he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on.

The hunger deep inside him hadn't fully subsided. It lurked like a beast in the shadows, waiting for the weakest moment to tear free.

What if it wasn't just an illusion?

What if he really had killed someone?

Jack's fingers curled slightly, his breathing heavy.

"Stay focused."

Aisha's voice suddenly cut through his thoughts.

She didn't turn around, but her tone was calm.

"You look like you're about to collapse."

Jack let out a low chuckle. "Do I?"

Aisha didn't respond and simply kept walking.

They finally arrived at an abandoned auto repair shop. The area was remote, the surrounding buildings long deserted—an ideal place to hide, at least for now.

Aisha pushed open the rusted metal door, revealing a worn-out warehouse inside. The air smelled of oil and mildew.

She scanned their surroundings, checking for any danger. Then she gave Jack a slight nod.

"We'll stay here for the night."

Jack didn't argue. His body was already nearing its limit.

He slumped down in a corner, resting his head against the cold concrete wall and closed his eyes.

But in the darkness, the fragmented visions returned.

Blood. Torn flesh. Pleas for help. Eyes filled with despair…

His eyes flew open, sweat beading on his forehead, heart pounding violently.

"Who… are you?"

A voice—deep, distant—suddenly whispered in his ear.

Jack jerked his head up, scanning the dimly lit warehouse.

Aisha was on the other side, checking her gear. Nothing seemed out of place.

But that voice…

It was low and hazy, like it came from the depths of a nightmare, carrying a chilling echo.

"Who… are you… really?"

Jack's throat was dry. Cold sweat slid down his neck.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze to his hands.

There were faint traces of blood on his fingertips, and the metallic scent still lingered in the air.

His nails were sharper than a normal person's, reflecting a faint gleam even in the dark.

Was this really his hand?

Or had he already stopped being "Jack"?

"You okay?"

Aisha's voice snapped him back to reality.

Jack looked up at her, forcing himself to appear composed.

"I'm fine."

Aisha studied him, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. But in the end, she didn't press further.

She simply sat down against the wall, her tone steady.

"Get some rest. We have a lot to do."

Jack was silent for a moment before nodding slowly.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to sleep.

But he knew—

The nightmares wouldn't stop.

They were creeping in, pulling him deeper, reshaping him into something he didn't understand.