Alan's heart hammered against his ribs like a frantic drum, each beat echoing painfully in his ears. He pressed himself flat against the cold, rust-scabbed flank of a shipping container, holding his breath so tightly his teeth chattered. The stench inside the abandoned shipyard – decayed metal, old engine oil – mingled with a sickly-sweet, coppery tang he'd never encountered before, assaulting his nostrils.
He'd followed the unnatural vibration and the sounds of conflict, moving like a terrified rabbit, slipping deeper into this labyrinth of steel. Gantry cranes loomed like skeletal giants in the fog; the hulks of gutted ships lay tilted and stacked, casting jagged shadows; the ground was littered with snapped cables and splintered pallets. An oppressive silence hung over the place, broken only by the distant moan of the Thames and the wind whistling through steel fissures. Yet, at the heart of this desolation, the inhuman snarls and metallic clashes pulled him forward like a deadly undertow.
He crouched behind a partially collapsed container, peering towards a relatively open area of hardened ground, likely an old loading bay. Moonlight, or rather a strange, diluted luminescence tinged with an ominous red hue, struggled through the dense fog, casting the scene in a ghastly pallor. Alan cautiously edged forward, peering around the container's edge, and his eyes widened in utter disbelief.
The sight shattered everything he'd known in his eighteen years.
At the center of the makeshift arena, two opposing forces clashed with impossible speed and ferocity.
On one side, three figures moved with preternatural grace. Two men and a woman, clad in dark, impeccably tailored attire that seemed absurdly out of place, as if they'd stepped from a high-society gala. Their skin was unnaturally pale, almost translucent in the gloom, their features sculpted with a cold, inhuman perfection. The woman, her blonde hair cascading like spun gold, maintained an eerie elegance even amidst the violence. And their eyes – Alan sucked in a sharp breath – glinted with a feral, chilling crimson in the shadows!
Vampires. The word stabbed into his mind like an icicle. Not myth, not fiction. Living, breathing, radiating lethal intent. Their attacks were as beautiful as they were deadly. The blonde woman swept her hands, conjuring slender, razor-sharp blades of solidified crimson light that sliced through the air with silent menace. A tall, lean male vampire blurred, vanishing only to reappear beside an opponent, pale fingers whistling through the air with bone-rending force. Another seemed to meld with the shadows, striking from impossible angles. Each movement was accompanied by a wave of frigid, blood-scented air, their speed so great Alan's eyes could barely track the blurs.
Their opponents…
Alan's gaze shifted, and a more primal fear seized him.
Five… or rather, five hulking men undergoing a terrifying metamorphosis into something distinctly other. They were massive, muscles straining against cheap work clothes. Now, bathed in the sickly, blood-tinted moonlight, their bodies warped grotesquely. Thick fur sprouted across necks and forearms; their faces elongated, muzzles pushing forward, lips splitting around glistening white fangs; knuckles thickened, nails elongating into cruel, black talons. Deep, guttural rols of pure animal fury erupted from their distorted throats, vibrating the very air.
Werewolves?! Alan's teeth chattered uncontrollably. Moon-curse monsters of legend, alive and snarling before him. They shed any pretense of humanity, embracing raw, feral power. Their charges were thunderous impacts; their swipes tore the air with a vicious whisssh; their howls weren't just sound, but a palpable pressure wave that made Alan's hiding container tremble. One werewolf took a crimson light-blade on its shoulder, dark blood spraying, but only roared louder, lashing out with a backhand that forced its attacker into a desperate dodge. Another launched itself off the ground, cracking the concrete, its massive bulk hurtling like a cannonball towards a vampire, forcing an impossible contortion to evade.
It was a primal ballet of savagery versus elegance, claw versus blood magic, brute force against unnatural speed. Scarlet blades met obsidian talons, sparking showers of sparks and hissing discharges of energy. The vampires' ghostly agility strained against the werewolves' relentless onslaught, while the lycanthropes' terrifying resilience was tested by the vampires' precise, lethal strikes. Each clash sprayed arcs of sweet-smelling, dark blood and elicited roars of bestial pain. It was a brutal, bloody spectacle, a death dance belonging solely to creatures of the night, playing out under the bloody moon.
Alan's mind went blank. Cold terror flooded him, locking his limbs, freezing his blood. He clamped a hand over his mouth, desperate not to make a sound. His stomach churned violently. The scene was too surreal, too horrifying. His grandfather's warnings screamed in his head: Stay hidden! Avoid danger! He hadn't just stumbled into danger; he'd fallen headfirst into London's deepest, darkest secret. He wanted to melt into the rust, to disappear.
Then, the battle shifted.
A younger-looking werewolf, his transformation less complete, eyes flickering with both rage and a flicker of human anguish, was being toyed with by two vampires. A crimson blade grazed his ribs, drawing blood. Then, the blonde female vampire spun like a dancer, her pale finger striking with unnatural force into a nerve cluster near his shoulder.
"AARRROOOOOO—!" The young werewolf's scream was a shriek of agony and profound humiliation. The last vestige of human reason vanished from his eyes, swallowed by pure, unadulterated beastial fury. Fur thickened, his frame seemed to swell further, drool mixed with bloody foam dripping from his fangs. His pupils dilated, burning with a mindless, feral gold.
"Shit! He's berserk!" an older werewolf bellowed, trying to break free to intervene, but was blocked by another vampire.
The berserk werewolf lost all focus. He wasn't attacking vampires anymore; he was a force of pure destruction, lashing out at everything around him! Talons screeched against container metal, showering sparks; heavy debris was hurled aside like toys. His sole purpose: annihilation. Annihilation of anything that moved!
His burning, gold-flecked eyes, swimming in bloodlust and rage, swept the chaotic battlefield. Then, with terrifying suddenness, they locked onto Alan's hiding place. The gaze pierced the fog, the rusted metal, and pinned Alan to the spot.
Alan felt his blood turn to ice. That gaze was a physical blow, a spear of primal fear driving into his heart, stealing his breath. He could almost see his own terrified face reflected in those monstrous eyes.
"ROOOOOAAAARRRR!!!"
An earth-shaking bellow, pure killing intent, erupted from the berserker's throat. He abandoned the vampires nearby. Powerful hind legs bunched, shattering the concrete beneath him. He launched forward like a living battering ram, a whirlwind of matted fur, claws, and raw, unstoppable fury, charging headlong towards Alan's container!
The shriek of talons tearing air! The thunderous crump of massive paws hitting earth! The overwhelming stench of wet fur, blood, and pure animal musk!
"No!!" Alan's mind screamed, a silent plea of utter despair. His legs were leaden, rooted to the spot. His throat was paralyzed, no sound escaping. He could only watch, frozen, as the shadow of death, amplified by the bloody moon, hurtled towards him. Razor fangs and gleaming claws filled his vision, promising oblivion.
The icy touch of death seemed to close around his neck.
At the very last instant, as the berserk werewolf closed the final few meters, close enough for Alan to see the blood matting its fur and the spittle flying from its jaws—
Something deep within Alan's core exploded.
This wasn't the faint flow or the vague "pulse" he'd felt before. This was raw, volcanic, utterly uncontrollable. A torrent of incomprehensible, seething energy erupted through his veins, his nerves, his very bones! It felt like runaway electricity, like molten lava, like a furious beast rampaging inside his skin!
"Unngh—!" A strangled gasp of pain escaped him. The energy was too vast, too wild. It demanded release. His body convulsed violently, blood vessels standing out like cords beneath his skin. The air around him began to hum with a deep, resonant vibration.
Then, with the force of a depth charge, an invisible wave of pure, chaotic energy pulsed outwards from Alan's core!
Thrumm—!
No light. No sound. But the very fabric of space seemed to ripple violently! An unseen shockwave radiated outwards, washing over the entire battlefield in an instant!