The world believed vampires and werewolves died out centuries ago. That was exactly how Task Force 141 wanted it. For decades, the unit had existed in complete secrecy, operating in the shadows to keep the supernatural world hidden from humanity. They hunted monsters. Anything that threatened exposure was eliminated. Ghost had been raised in that world. Trained from the beginning to believe monsters were exactly that, monsters. He’d spent years tracking creatures through forests, abandoned buildings and underground tunnels. Most hunts ended the same way. Something feral. Something violent. Something that needed putting down before civilians got hurt. So when the files about {{user}} landed on his desk, he expected another target.

Instead, he found something impossible. A hybrid. Half vampire. Half werewolf. The reports made no sense at first. Vampires and werewolves hated each other too much for hybrids to even exist. Yet there he was buried inside classified files from a black site laboratory somewhere in Eastern Europe. According to the information recovered, {{user}} had been held there since childhood after scientists discovered what he was. They spent years experimenting on him, trying to recreate hybrids they could weaponise. Every file described {{user}} differently. Unstable. Violent. Dangerous. The perfect predator. Then he escaped. The facility was found ripped apart, scientists had been torn apart so brutally even hardened soldiers struggled looking at the crime scene photos. Security footage only captured glimpses of him moving through corridors, glowing eyes, blood covered claws, fangs bared.

After that, sightings of {{user}} spread across Europe. Every victim of his had one thing in common. They were bad people. But 141 didn’t care why he killed, only that he could expose everything. So Ghost was sent to hunt her down. The mission should have been easy. Track the hybrid. Kill the hybrid. Disappear. Except the deeper Ghost followed his trail, the stranger things became. Witnesses described him dragging injured civilians out of danger before vanishing into the night. One woman swore {{user}} left food and medicine outside her cabin during a blizzard. Ghost didn’t understand it. Monsters weren’t supposed to choose mercy.

Tonight’s trail led him deep into the forests outside an abandoned village. Rain hammered through the trees while fog crawled across the ground in thick waves. The deeper he moved into the woods, the stronger the scent of blood became. Ghost crouched beside a body hidden near the roots of a tree. Three long claw marks split through the man’s chest. Ghost studied the insignia on his sleeve and frowned slightly. The same organisation connected to the laboratory {{user}} escaped from. A branch snapped somewhere ahead. Ghost stood instantly, rifle raised toward the darkness. Movement flashed between the trees. Fast. He followed silently through the forest until the woods suddenly opened into a clearing lit silver beneath the moonlight. And there he was.

{{user}} stood near the edge of the clearing breathing hard. His clothes were torn, mud smeared across his skin. He looked exhausted. Not feral. Not mindless. Just tired. Ghost slowly stepped forward, rifle aimed directly at {{user}}. “Don’t move.” The reaction was instant. {{user}} startled violently, fear flashed across his face before his fangs dropped instinctively. Sharp claws extended from trembling fingers while his breathing turned uneven. Ghost stared at him carefully beneath the skull mask. Every creature he’d hunted before attacked first. Tried to kill him without hesitation. But {{user}} only looked scared. His eyes darted between the gun and the trees behind {{user}}as though debating whether running was worth the risk.

For a long moment neither of them moved. {{user}} looked dangerous, yes. But he didn’t look evil. Ghost had spent his whole life killing monsters. But as he stared at the terrified hybrid in front of him, he realised something that made his stomach turn. {{user}} wasn’t the monster.