The trees were already thick when Jade realised how far they had walked. The moon hung low over Jericho's edge, spilling pale light through the branches as Jade and her group pushed deeper into the woods.
Jade walked with her arm looped through Tyler's. He was already buzzed, flashing that crooked smile she so loved. Ahead, Mia and Connor were shoving each other playfully while behind them Riley and Sam lagged, sharing a joint that glowed orange every few steps.
"Bet I can find the clearing first," Connor said, breaking into a jog.
"You're gonna trip over your own ego." Mia shot back, but she ran after him anyway.
Jade laughed at them, the sound loose in her chest. Tyler pulled her closer, gave a quick, warm kiss to her temple.
"You good?" He murmured.
"Never better." She said and meant it.
She didn't want to be at home studying every time, being watched by her parents almost 24/7, having no privacy. She was lucky that her parents usually allowed to have sleepover at Mia's whose parents were the opposite of hers.
She preferred being with her friends, most of all, being with Tyler.
They reached the clearing two minutes later, moonlight pooling in the center like spilled milk. Luckily, there was an old log there that served as a bench. Bags hit the ground, bottles opened and music started low from Riley's speaker.
For a while it was fun chaos. They passed the bottle around, played a halfhearted truth or dare that dissolved into everyone daring each other to chug. Jade sat on Tyler's lap, while he traced lazy circles on her stomach underneath her sweater. The alcohol always made everything warm from the inside.
Eventually, the group split like how it's meant to on nights like this.
Jade and Tyler followed a faint deer path as the other voices faded to distant murmurs. Tyler backed her gently against a smooth birch, kissing her like he was starving for it—hands under her top, her hands running through his hair. The world had narrowed to heat, breath and scratch of bark behind her back.
Then the scream ripped through the night. High, raw and unmistakable. This wasn't one being playful or drunk, this was pure terror.
Jade froze, lips still on Tyler's. He pulled back instantly, eyes wide. "What the hell was that?"
Another scream followed, this time it was closer and had a wet, choking sound that made Jade's stomach drop.
"Connor?" Mia's voice, small and shaking, floated somewhere from their left. "Connor, where are you?"
Tyler grabbed Jade's hand, squeezing hard. "We have to go back."
Jade didn't even respond as they stumbled towards the clearing, branches snagging at their clothes. The music still played from Riley's speaker, sounding eerie now.
Jade's heart was pounding in her head. 'Why didn't I stay at home? Why am I here? What's happening? Is everyone safe?"
When they broke into the open space, the log was empty. Bottles laid tipped over, the liquid soaking into the dirt but Sam and Riley were gone.
"Mia?" Tyler called, although his voice was barely loud and cracked at the edges.
A low rustle answered in her place but it felt too big for the wind. Then Mia screamed again, this time cut off mid note like something had clamped over her mouth.
Jade's pulse hammered in her throat. "Tyler..."
Something moved at the tree line—dark, tall, limbs too long and fluid like the shadows themselves peeled away from the trees and took shape.
Tyler's grip on her tightened to pain. "Run." He whispered.
But before they could, the shape lunged and it was fast—impossibly fast. One second Tyler was beside her, the next a massive silhouette had him by the throat, lifting him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing.
Tyler's feet kicked uselessly, hands clawing at the arm that held him. A horrible, strangled gurgle came from his mouth as something sharp sank into his neck with a wet, ripping crunch. Blood sprayed in a dark arc, splattering Jade's cheek warm and sticky.
"TYLER!!" The word tore out of her, raw and broken.
His eyes met hers then rolled back white. The thing shook him like a doll, head tilted back as it drank, shoulders rising and falling with deep, greedy pulls.
Jade's legs moved before her brain caught up. She didn't look back at first, she dared not but as panic clawed up her spine, she risked a glance over her shoulder.
It was there, in a giant leap—arms wide, its mouth open in a silent snarl.
Jade screamed once more as the darkness swallowed the space between them.
***
Rainwater dripped steadily from a bent metal fire escape, striking the pavement with a slow, irritating rhythm.
The alley was narrow and poorly lit, boxed in by two aging brick buildings whose walls were stained with years of grime and faded graffiti. The smell of old trash, wet cardboard, and something vaguely sour hung in the air.
Three boys were scattered across the ground.
One of them lay on his side, curled slightly, both arms wrapped around his stomach as he groaned through clenched teeth. Another sat slumped against the dumpster, his lip split open and blood drying along his chin.
The third had somehow ended up flat on his back, staring upward with the distant expression of someone rethinking several life choices at once, one hand loosely touching a rapidly swelling cheek.
All three of them looked like they had just been through a car accident and standing calmly in the middle of the alley was the boy responsible.
Zaza dusted his hands together once, as if finishing a routine chore. His breathing was steady, his posture relaxed and he didn't even look tired or stressed.
.
(Image of MC)
.
He looked down at the three of them for a moment. Then he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, worn Bible.
"Alright," Zaza said. "Let's get into it."
None of them responded immediately until the boy sitting against the dumpster spat weakly onto the pavement.
"You're—you're crazy," he wheezed.
Zaza ignored him, flipping through the book until he found the one he wanted. "Yeah, found just the perfect one" he smiled, clearing his throat.
The boy on the ground groaned loudly. "Man... don't start..."
Zaza began reading anyway.
"In the book of John 3:16, it says that for God so loved the world," he said in a steady voice, "that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."
He paused briefly, taking a deep breath as he let the words settle. The boy with the split lip let out a weak laugh that quickly turned into a cough.
"Dude… we just got jumped and now you're reading Bible verses?"
Zaza raised a finger politely. "Uh, correction. You three attempted to rob an elderly woman." He nodded toward the entrance of the alley. "She is seventy-two years old, walks with a cane. And you three shamelessly surrounded her."
"Man… you broke my nose…" The boy replied, wincing as he slightly touched his nose.
Zaza looked down at him, his golden eyes glowing before glancing back to the bible. "Actions have consequences."
The boy on his side tried to sit up, immediately regretted it, and collapsed again with a pained hiss.
"I think you cracked a rib..." He groaned loudly.
"Violence escalated the moment you introduced a weapon." Zaza explained like he was talking to a five-year old.
He then continued reading as if no one had spoken. "For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world," he said, "but that the world through Him might be saved."
The boy lying flat on the pavement slowly lifted a hand.
"…Can you maybe save us with an ambulance?"
Zaza glanced down at him. "You'll live."
"How do you know that?!"
Zaza shrugged lightly. "You're still complaining."
The boy muttered something under his breath that sounded extremely unfriendly. Zaza closed the Bible halfway but kept his thumb marking the page.
"Now," he continued calmly, "the point of this passage is very simple." He looked at each of them in turn. "God loves the world, meaning he loves you."
The boy against the dumpster snorted weakly. "Sure doesn't feel like it right now."
Zaza nodded. "That's because love doesn't mean the absence of consequences."
"Please stop talking…" The boy on his side groaned louder. "Fuck… my rib is definitely broken…"
"Pain often makes people more receptive to reflection." Zaza slipped the Bible fully closed and tucked it back into his coat. "You boys are young," he continued, folding his hands behind his back like a patient instructor. "Which means you still have time to correct your trajectory."
The boy lying on the pavement squinted up at him. "…Our what?"
"Your trajectory."
"Man we just wanted some cash…"
Zaza nodded thoughtfully. "And instead you received the word of God." He looked toward the mouth of the alley, where the faint hum of distant traffic drifted through the night air.
Then he reached into another pocket and pulled out a small folded paper. He dropped it onto the pavement between them.
It slid slightly before stopping near the boy on the ground.
The boy squinted at it. "…What's that?"
"An address," Zaza replied.
"For what?"
"A church."
The boy stared at him in disbelief. "You beat us up and now you're inviting us to church?"
Zaza adjusted his jacket. "I prefer to think of it as spiritual follow-up."
The boy against the dumpster let his head fall back with a miserable groan. "Man… this has to be the worst night of my life…"
Zaza started walking toward the end of the alley. Behind him, the boy on the pavement called out weakly.
"Hey!"
Zaza stopped and looked back. "…What?"
"So are you gonna call an ambulance or something?"
Zaza considered the question seriously for a moment before shaking his head. "You'll manage."
And with that, he stepped out of the alley and disappeared into the streetlights, leaving the three of them behind.
***
The church orphanage sat at the end of a quiet street, its old stone walls dark against the night sky. A single light burned above the wooden doors, casting a pale glow over the steps and the worn brass cross mounted above the entrance.
Inside, the halls were quiet.
At the far end of the main corridor, a door stood half open. Low voices drifted from the office beyond it.
"....another one?" A man asked.
"Yes," another voice replied, older and calmer. "Two nights ago, a hiker this time."
A pause followed.
"That makes what...five now?"
"Six."
A stack of newspapers shifted on the desk inside the room. The younger priest rubbing his temple in frustration as he spread the newspapers on the table.
"The local authorities are calling it animal attacks," the younger priest said. "But the reports don't match. The injuries look wrong, like it's deliberate."
The older man sighed quietly as he leaned into the chair. "And the mission persons?"
"Three confirmed." The younger priest spoke with a heavy expression, like a doctor giving bad news. "One being a child."
Another heavy silence settled over the room before light footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Both men turned towards the door just as it opened, revealing Zaza as he stepped inside, closing it behind him.
"Father James," he slightly bowed his head. "Brother Constantine."
James, the older priest adjusted his posture as he folded his arms. He was studying the boy's appearance as he was well familiar with his behaviour.
"Ah," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Zaza."
Zaza, maintaing that innocent look he was blessed with, nodded once. "Father."
The older priest studied him for a moment longer before gesturing vaguely towards his hands. "Where are you coming from? Don't tell me you were beating people up again."
The boy looked mildly offended. "I was preaching the gospel to some boys who tried to rob an old lady."
Constantine let out a short laugh, knowing well that Zaza beat the hell out of them before preaching. However, he stopped laughing when he noticed Father James's glare that was silently saying: 'You're the one encouraging this boy!'
"Sit." He gestured to an empty seat but he didn't even wait for the boy, immediately giving the news. "Pack your things, you're going to Jericho at dawn."