Evelyn hadn’t planned on going back to her childhood house. She pulled into the driveway alone, gravel crunching under her tires. No one followed. No one knew she was there. The house had sat untouched for years, perched at the edge of a narrow road just outside the city—weathered by time and memory.The door creaked the way it always had, the sound oddly comforting. The front door opened with a familiar groan, and the scent hit her instantly—dust, wood, and something faintly sweet, like old cedar and forgotten things. Nothing had changed.She made her way through the hall, boots echoing against the floorboards, each step guided by muscle memory. Her father’s study was still at the end of the corridor, the same door she wasn’t allowed to open as a child. Now, it was unlocked.She went straight to the filing cabinet in the corner. Beneath a false bottom—exactly where he’d once shown her during a moment of rare honesty—she found the safe. Her fingers hesitated over the keypad, then ente
Evelyn didn’t look back as she slipped out of the precinct’s side exit. Her heart was a drumbeat in her ears, the weight of the placement protocol memo heavy in her pocket. The truth had been hidden in plain sight. Her entire life—a carefully built lie. A tool. A variable in someone else’s equation.She climbed into her car and locked the doors. Her breath fogged the windshield. For a second, she sat frozen. Then she opened her burner phone and dialed the only number that still felt real.“Anika,” she said when the line picked up. “We need to talk. Now.”Twenty minutes later, they met in the dim backroom of a closed diner—off-grid, unmonitored. Evelyn laid out the memo, the photo, the Subject E-113 file. Anika’s eyes scanned the pages with the same horror Evelyn had felt just hours earlier.“This was never about your instincts or your skills,” Anika whispered. “They built you for this.”“They wanted to see if I’d survive the shift,” Evelyn said. “Whatever that means.”Anika looked up,
They left just after dawn.Evelyn sat behind the wheel, the sky still bruised with early light, the city shrinking in her rearview. Mason rode shotgun, rifle case across his lap, and Emily was in the backseat, eyes on the road signs as they passed—silent, calculating.The file on Julian was spread open on the dash. Not much to go on. A location. A date. A single line of text:> "Subject J-009 transferred to Hollow Branch—Level Four containment. Status: dormant."Evelyn gripped the wheel tighter. “Dormant doesn’t mean dead.”“Dormant “This is it,” she said. “Hollow Branch. No one’s supposed to know this exists.”They moved on foot, rifles and sidearms ready. The path twisted through pine and stone until the ground gave way to metal—an old freight elevator, overgrown with weeds. Evelyn knelt and wiped the dust off the control panel.“Still powered,” Mason muttered. “Not abandoned.”Evelyn pressed the switch. The elevator dropped with a guttural hum, dragging them into darkness.**They
The city never truly slept, but on full moon nights, it felt different—like something old and wild moved underneath, a dark presence hiding nearby. Detective Evelyn Cross had learned to trust her instincts, and right now, they were screaming at her, a loud mix of warning bells rang in her mind.She stood outside the police station, drinking a cup of coffee that had long been cold, the bitter taste a reminder of the urgency that gnawed at her insides. The streetlights buzzed overhead, casting long, distorted shadows on the pavement, as if the very ground was alive with secrets. Inside, the station was a lot of activity—phones ringing, officers moving back and forth, the air thick with tension—but none of it reached her. Not after what her boss had just told her.Another body. Another night. Another brutal crime scene.The killer struck only on full moons, leaving behind the victims so deformed that even the most seasoned officers had to turn away, their faces pale and drawn. Five bodie
Evelyn barely had time to react.Evelyn couldn’t stay in her apartment. Not after the call. Not after the warning. The moment she stepped into the parking lot outside her apartment, a hand clamped over her mouth, dragging her backward. Instinct kicked in. She drove her elbow into the attacker’s ribs and twisted free, stumbling onto the pavement.A figure in black lunged at her. No hesitation. She fired.The gunshot echoed through the night, but the bullet never landed. The figure moved impossibly fast, sidestepping at the last second. A gloved fist smashed into her wrist, knocking the gun from her grip.Pain exploded through her arm, but she didn’t stop. She pivoted, slamming a knee into the attacker’s stomach. They grunted but didn’t fall.Whoever they were, they were strong. Too strong.Evelyn reached for her backup knife, but before she could draw it, the figure grabbed her by the collar and hurled her backward. She hit the ground hard, air rushing from her lungs.The attacker step
Evelyn barely drive back to the station. Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Damian Voss knew something—something about her father. He wanted her to know it, wanted to dangle the truth just out of reach.Her mind replayed his words, over and over."Do you know what his last words were?"That smug smile. That mocking tone.Voss was taunting her.But he had made a mistake.She wasn’t walking away.She parked outside the station, heart hammering. The confrontation at Voss Enterprises had left her rattled, but she still had unfinished business. Detective Decker. The cop selling them out.The moment she walked into the station, the noise felt different—forced, unnatural. Officers typed on their computers, chatted in groups, but there was an undercurrent of tension, a shift in the air.They knew.Evelyn’s gaze locked onto Decker, standing near the vending machine, sipping coffee like nothing was wrong.But he was wrong.She strode toward him, her presence like
Pain throbbed in Evelyn’s arm, a relentless reminder of the impossible truth. The nurse’s words echoed in her mind."They are, Detective. And if you don’t start believing that, you’re already dead."She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t seeing things. The blood seeping through the hospital bandages proved that. The creature in the Red Hollow Club was real—impossibly fast, impossibly strong. A werewolf.And Damian Voss knew about it.The sterile hospital room felt suffocating. The fluorescent lights buzzed, and the scent of antiseptic burned her nose. She needed answers. She needed to move.Ignoring the nurse’s protests, Evelyn ripped off her IV and stumbled toward the exit. Her head swam, but she pushed through it. She couldn’t afford to rest.The moment she stepped outside, the night felt different—thick with something unseen, something watching.A shiver ran down her spine.She wasn’t alone.Her fingers hovered over her holster as she scanned the parking lot. Empty. Quiet. Too quiet.Then—mo
Evelyn’s heartbeat thundered in her ears as she clutched the evidence in her trembling hands. The photograph of Damian Voss standing over her father’s body burned into her mind.She had spent years chasing shadows, searching for answers that never came. But now, the truth was staring back at her.Voss had killed her father.Her fingers tightened around the old crime scene photo, but something made her pause.A strange feeling crept up her spine.Her eyes flickered back to the grainy surveillance still, scanning every detail. The dim lighting, the position of her father’s lifeless body… and then—Voss.Her breath caught.She grabbed another picture from the pile—one taken recently at a corporate gala.Her stomach dropped.Damian Voss.The same sharp features. The same piercing silver eyes. The same cold expression.Not a single change.Thirty years apart, and he looks the same.Her pulse pounded as she compared the photos side by side. There were no signs of aging—no wrinkles, no gray h
They left just after dawn.Evelyn sat behind the wheel, the sky still bruised with early light, the city shrinking in her rearview. Mason rode shotgun, rifle case across his lap, and Emily was in the backseat, eyes on the road signs as they passed—silent, calculating.The file on Julian was spread open on the dash. Not much to go on. A location. A date. A single line of text:> "Subject J-009 transferred to Hollow Branch—Level Four containment. Status: dormant."Evelyn gripped the wheel tighter. “Dormant doesn’t mean dead.”“Dormant “This is it,” she said. “Hollow Branch. No one’s supposed to know this exists.”They moved on foot, rifles and sidearms ready. The path twisted through pine and stone until the ground gave way to metal—an old freight elevator, overgrown with weeds. Evelyn knelt and wiped the dust off the control panel.“Still powered,” Mason muttered. “Not abandoned.”Evelyn pressed the switch. The elevator dropped with a guttural hum, dragging them into darkness.**They
Evelyn didn’t look back as she slipped out of the precinct’s side exit. Her heart was a drumbeat in her ears, the weight of the placement protocol memo heavy in her pocket. The truth had been hidden in plain sight. Her entire life—a carefully built lie. A tool. A variable in someone else’s equation.She climbed into her car and locked the doors. Her breath fogged the windshield. For a second, she sat frozen. Then she opened her burner phone and dialed the only number that still felt real.“Anika,” she said when the line picked up. “We need to talk. Now.”Twenty minutes later, they met in the dim backroom of a closed diner—off-grid, unmonitored. Evelyn laid out the memo, the photo, the Subject E-113 file. Anika’s eyes scanned the pages with the same horror Evelyn had felt just hours earlier.“This was never about your instincts or your skills,” Anika whispered. “They built you for this.”“They wanted to see if I’d survive the shift,” Evelyn said. “Whatever that means.”Anika looked up,
Evelyn hadn’t planned on going back to her childhood house. She pulled into the driveway alone, gravel crunching under her tires. No one followed. No one knew she was there. The house had sat untouched for years, perched at the edge of a narrow road just outside the city—weathered by time and memory.The door creaked the way it always had, the sound oddly comforting. The front door opened with a familiar groan, and the scent hit her instantly—dust, wood, and something faintly sweet, like old cedar and forgotten things. Nothing had changed.She made her way through the hall, boots echoing against the floorboards, each step guided by muscle memory. Her father’s study was still at the end of the corridor, the same door she wasn’t allowed to open as a child. Now, it was unlocked.She went straight to the filing cabinet in the corner. Beneath a false bottom—exactly where he’d once shown her during a moment of rare honesty—she found the safe. Her fingers hesitated over the keypad, then ente
The car cut through the fog like a blade. Damian didn’t speak, which made Evelyn’s skin itch even more. Silence meant calculation. And Damian Voss was always calculating.“Where are we going?” she snapped, tired of the game.“To a place your mother once begged me never to show you.”That stopped her cold. “Don’t talk about her.”“I’m not the one who brought her back from the dead.”He said it so casually as if the resurrection was part of his daily errands.The car slid to a stop in front of a warehouse cloaked in shadows. Not abandoned—guarded. She saw them in the corners: men who didn’t blink didn’t breathe normally. Wolves in human skin.Damian stepped out. Evelyn followed, hand brushing her holster.Inside, the air shifted. It was colder. Older. The walls were marked with sigils she didn’t recognize, but they burned in her bones like memories she’d never made.They stopped in front of a massive iron door.“She brought you here once,” Damian said. “You just don’t remember.”“I was
Evelyn’s fingers twitched near her weapon.“Is this a joke?” she growled, stepping forward. “Because if it is, you picked the wrong day.”Damian Voss stood just inside the precinct doors, as calm as ever, his tailored coat flaring slightly with the breeze from outside. But it was the woman beside him that made Evelyn’s pulse stumble—a woman with eyes too familiar, a voice too haunting, and a face she hadn’t seen in over a decade.Her mother.Or someone wearing her mother’s face.“I should shoot you where you stand,” Evelyn said, eyes locked on Damian. “You have five seconds to start talking before I forget this is a police station.”Damian raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking. “Now, now, detective. Is that any way to greet an old… ally?”“We were never allies.”“No,” he said coolly, “but the world has changed since Ashgrove. And you’re running out of options.”Evelyn looked past him to the woman—no older than she remembered, but pale, haunted. “You're supposed to be dead.”“I
The cold hit harder here. Not the kind that numbed you—this was the kind that cut, slid beneath the skin, and settled in the bones. Snow stretched endlessly in every direction, broken only by jagged ice ridges and the skeletal remains of old research stations long abandoned to the frost.The Arctic wind howled around them as they stepped out of the hovercraft, their boots crunching onto the frozen earth. Evelyn pulled her hood tighter, eyes narrowing against the blinding white. Ahead, a dark speck loomed—a structure partially embedded into a glacier, half-buried and hidden by decades of ice.Hollowmere’s twin, or maybe its predecessor.“Is that it?” Mason asked, his voice low and tense.Anika checked the tracker. “Coordinates match. That’s where Ward went dark.”Emily didn’t speak, but she moved with purpose, her steps steady despite the terrain. Evelyn stayed close beside her, watching for any signs of tremors or discomfort. They still didn’t know the full effects of the neural impri
A faint sound echoed through the corridor—soft, rhythmic, like breathing. But it wasn’t coming from the pods.Evelyn raised a hand, signaling the others to halt. She tilted her head, listening. The sound came again, this time closer. Not quite footsteps, but not mechanical either. A whisper of something alive.Anika’s grip tightened on her blade. “We’re not alone.”“I know,” Emily whispered, her voice distant. “It’s awake.”They pressed on, past the pod room and into a wider chamber, its ceiling higher and coated with a strange black substance that shimmered in their flashlight beams. The walls were carved with more symbols, deeper this time—as if someone had scratched them in with claws. In the center stood a tall terminal, wrapped in cables that pulsed faintly with a bluish light.Emily walked straight to it.“Wait,” Mason said, stepping forward. “You sure that’s a good idea?”“She called it the Gatekeeper,” Emily replied, placing a hand gently on the terminal. “It doesn’t just stor
The road ended long before they reached it.By the time they climbed the final ridge, the landscape had shifted from forest to frozen silence. Hollowmere was nestled in a valley of snow-dusted rock and frostbitten trees, its entrance so well-hidden that, at first, it felt like they'd been chasing a ghost.Then Evelyn saw the edge of concrete—half-buried, cracked by age but unmistakably deliberate.“Found it,” she murmured.Emily moved beside her, her breath fogging the air. Her eyes locked on the structure like it was a half-remembered dream. “This is it. It’s quieter, but it’s still alive. I can feel it.”Anika crouched near the ground, brushing snow off a rusted panel embedded in the hillside. “There’s no surface access point. No doors. No gates.”“There wouldn’t be,” Mason said. “They built this one to disappear.”Evelyn pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as she stepped forward, scanning the valley’s edge. The cold here was different—metallic, biting like it carried memory in
They emerged from the forest at first light—bruised, breathless, and shaken. Ashgrove was still out there, buried beneath the earth like a sleeping beast. It hadn’t been destroyed. It hadn’t even been wounded. Just… disturbed. And now it knew who they were. Evelyn leaned against a tree, her lungs burning as she tried to calm her racing heart. Behind her, Emily sat on the cold ground, staring back toward the place they’d barely escaped. Anika crouched nearby, already scanning for threats, while Mason stood guard, his gun still gripped tight No one spoke for a moment. But the silence wasn’t comforting—it was waiting. Evelyn finally broke it. “Is everyone okay?” Anika nodded stiffly. “Physically? Sure. Mentally? Ask me tomorrow.” Mason lowered his weapon, his jaw clenched. “We need to move. If they’re tracking us, this clearing’s too exposed.” Evelyn looked at Emily, who hadn’t moved since they got out. Her gaze was distant, but not empty—focused on something none of them could se