Chapter 3: The Hunt Begins
In the distant city of Ashbourne, nestled between dense forests and winding hills, a seemingly normal family sat gathered around a long oak dining table. Silverware clinked against porcelain. The low hum of conversation threaded through the air—casual at first, then shifting to something more serious.
Cabins out near the deer hunting grounds had been destroyed.
Not vandalized—obliterated. Walls shattered. Roofs torn clean off. Personal belongings left behind in panic. No signs of human injury, no tracks anyone could explain. Just wreckage.
Locals are talking about a beast, a monster prowling the forests near a neighboring city, but most dismissed it. Drunks with too much moonshine. Campers telling tall tales.
But this family knew better.
Selene Vire sat quietly as the others debated. Her silver-blonde hair shimmered under the chandelier light, braided back for function, not style. Her hazel eyes were sharp, observant, their color shifting in the light like amber glass. Her light tan skin caught the warm glow of the candles. She wore sleek dark clothing—tight-fitting in all the right places. The outfit accented her feminine figure, compact and petite, but clearly trained for combat. Her beauty was striking, impossible to ignore, with soft, light pink lips and a face that could make enemies hesitate.
But there was no softness in her now.
She listened in silence as the family confirmed what she feared: a hunt would be organized, but not yet.
"We wait until after the full moon," her father declared at the head of the table. "The beast will be weaker. Easier to track. Easier to kill."
Selene's jaw tightened.
They wanted to wait. She couldn't. Not when this might be connected to him—to the thing that had taken her brother.
That Night
Beneath the family estate, hidden behind a false wall and a locked wine rack, Selene slipped into the hunter's base. It stretched like a bunker—reinforced steel doors, weapons mounted to concrete walls, mission boards with red strings and worn-out photos. Footsteps echoed above as her family moved on with their evening.
She kept to the shadows, listening.
The plan was clear: Wait. Surround. Kill.
But Selene couldn't sit still another night. She wasn't going to let her brother's death fade into another statistic in their war.
A Few Hours Later
She gunned the engine of her matte black superbike and tore down the darkened roads outside of Hollow Pines, the small city where the sightings had started.
In her saddlebag: silver-dipped blades, thermal imaging goggles, a compact drone with long-range sensors, protein bars, a flask of black coffee, and her favorite pistol—loaded with hollow-point silver rounds.
She wore her full tactical outfit now—armored, sleek, and built for agility. It hugged her tightly, every movement like that of a coiled spring. Her silver-blonde braid whipped in the wind behind her helmet. Her lips were parted in focus, her gaze sharp and predatory.
She didn't just look dangerous—she was.
But beneath that hardened shell was a grief she hadn't outrun.
Three Days Earlier in Hollow Pines, at the Graves family home.
Tyler sat on the couch, trying to piece together what happened during the blackout nights. The television was on in the background, volume low—some news report he wasn't really listening to.
"I don't remember it all," he said, rubbing his temples. "Just flashes. Like it's not my memory, but someone else's dream."
Mason looked up from his laptop, watching him closely. "What kind of flashes?"
Tyler's face paled. "A couple running through the trees. Screaming. A cabin—wood splintering. Blood on my hands. But I don't know if it's real."
"It's must be scattered memories" Mason said quietly. "Your body might've gone full instinct. The system could be suppressing some memories until your mind can handle it."
Tyler nodded, haunted. "What if I did hurt someone?"
"Then we'll figure it out. But Tyler—there've been no reports of deaths. No bodies. No injuries."
The news suddenly caught Tyler's attention.
"…local authorities still baffled by destruction found at the hunting cabins in Deadwood Forest, north of Hollow Pines. Officials suspect a bear or large predator, though no tracks or animals have been found. Some witnesses claim to have seen a large humanoid figure, but local law enforcement has dismissed it as folklore."
[Warning: First Transformation in 3 Days, 18 Hours, 59 Minutes]
The system message blinked to life in the corner of Tyler's vision.
"Shit," he whispered.
Mason leaned forward. "It's happening, isn't it? The system? Its alerting you to something?"
Tyler didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
"Its warning me of my First Transformation under the full moon... i think im a.. a werewolf or atleased im becoming a werewolf" Tyler said softly
"Well I've sort of have a plan" Mason said "we can use the old storage shed, I'll reinforce it to be able to hold you on that night"
Back Near Deadwood Forest – Present
Selene sat on the motel bed, gear unpacked and scattered around her. She had been in Hollow Pines for three days now. Slept four hours, total. Ducked every call from her father. She told herself she'd return after the full moon—after confirming and killing this creature.
Maybe it was fake news. A bear. A drunk hunter with explosives. Whatever.
She stared out the motel window at the horizon. The full moon was just beginning to rise, pale and massive above the treetops.
A long, lonely howl shattered the night.
Selene's body went still.
It didn't sound like a wolf.
It sounded wrong. Human and not human. Deep and grieving.
She was already moving.
Sliding into her gear. Locking her blades in place. Securing her thigh holster. Pulling on her goggles. She launched her drone from the motel parking lot and watched the feed on her wrist-mounted HUD.
There. A heat signature. Roughly human-shaped, but distorted—too large, moving too fast.
Her lips parted. "Got you."
The hunt was no longer rumor.
It was real.
And it had begun.