The night wrapped itself tightly around the city like a suffocating blanket, the kind of darkness that whispered secrets into the ears of the unwary and beckoned the brave to test their mettle. In one of the quieter, forgotten corners of town, where streetlights flickered and cast uneven shadows, something stirred.

Jack moved soundlessly, his gray skin blending seamlessly with the muted tones of the world around him. His breath, slow and deliberate, was masked by the ambient hum of a distant generator. The faint scuff of his black shoes against the wet pavement was swallowed by the weight of the night, leaving nothing but silence in his wake. A blue hoodie, faded and torn at the hem, hung loosely on his shoulders, the fabric shifting as he prowled between the jagged walls of abandoned buildings.

A window caught his attention. Not for what lay beyond, but for its reflection—a momentary glimpse of his own face, empty sockets where eyes once were. Jack tilted his head, the movement deliberate, almost predatory. His mouth opened just enough to reveal rows of jagged teeth, glinting faintly in the dim light. The tongues inside shifted lazily, the grotesque appendages tasting the air as though testing for something unseen. His claws, long and curved, flexed at his sides before retreating into his fingers with a soft click.

He preferred this part of the city. The alleys were his playground—narrow paths that made escape for his prey a futile endeavor. Every corner held the scent of despair, and Jack thrived on it. The hunger clawed at him from within, a constant companion, its demands an unrelenting pulse in his veins. It wasn’t his fault, not truly. But the monster he’d become had no qualms about survival.

Then, the scent of copper in the air drew him to a halt. Fresh. His head tilted slightly, his body moving in an almost animalistic rhythm as he crept closer to the source.