The dorms slept soundly.
Every hallway was still, soaked in silence. Class 1-A lay wrapped in blankets, dreaming of battles, exams, and whatever ridiculous chaos tomorrow held.
But Ren Kaido was already in motion.
His door clicked shut like a final breath. No footsteps. No sound.
He didn't walk—he moved. Like water around stones. Like a shadow in a deeper shadow.
Tonight… the hunger was too strong.
And it was no hunger training could tame.
Red Moon Street lived up to its name.
By day, it was a forgettable alley tucked behind the shopping district. But when night kissed the city and neon red signs buzzed to life… it transformed.
Dark pleasures oozed from the cracks in the sidewalk.
Girls in lace and leather smoked beneath broken lamplights. Music thumped low from distant speakers. The air smelled like perfume, sweat, and quiet desperation.
Ren stepped under a buzzing red light, eyes scanning lazily.
Then he saw her.
Leaning against a rusted railing, sipping soda from a straw. Short skirt, tight crop top, fishnet sleeves. Brown skin, glossy lips, and a teasing smirk. Young—maybe 25—but already with that practiced sway in her hips.
She caught his gaze, tilted her head.
"Well hey, stranger," she cooed. "Lookin' for a good time?"
He approached slowly, face unreadable.
"How much?" he asked, voice a low rumble.
"For you?" she giggled. "Three thousand for the full package. Anything you want."
He handed her five. Crisp bills. No hesitation.
Her eyes widened slightly. "Well damn, daddy. You trying to buy the premium experience?"
"Something like that."
She didn't question it.
"Come on," she said, taking his hand.
The motel room reeked of mildew and old perfume, but the bed was clean enough.
She flicked on a red-tinted lamp.
"Want me to strip first or just crawl onto you?"
Ren was already unzipping his jacket, revealing his carved, battle-hardened body. No hero outfit. No pretense.
Just muscle and menace.
She licked her lips. "You're built like a dream."
"No talking," he said, stepping forward.
He kissed her—no, consumed her. His mouth crashed into hers as his hands gripped her ass, lifted her like she was nothing. She gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist as he threw her onto the mattress.
Her giggle dissolved into a moan. "Mmm, fuck... rough type, huh?"
He didn't answer.
He yanked her panties down in one clean rip—rrriip!—and they flew somewhere into the corner of the room.
Then he spread her legs wide, dragging two fingers between her slick folds.
Squelch.
"Already wet?" he muttered, gaze locked on her soaked pussy. "Didn't even touch you yet."
She whined, hips lifting. "Told you... I'm premium, baby…"
He dropped his pants.
She gasped.
His cock was thick, veiny, already hard, the tip dripping like it was eager to ruin her.
"Holy shit—" she didn't finish.
He shoved into her in one brutal thrust.
Schlk!
Her head flung back, mouth wide. "A-AH! F-Fuck—! You're—ohmygod—"
His hands gripped her thighs like vices, locking her in place.
Thrust. Squish. Thrust. Wet slap. Thrust.
Her moans filled the room. Raw. High. Choked.
"AHH—! UNGH—! Y-you're—fucking me like—AH!—you hate me!"
Ren said nothing.
His eyes were half-lidded, his jaw tight. Not from pleasure—but from restraint.
Each slap of skin echoed like gunfire against the cheap motel walls.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The mattress squealed beneath them.
"F-Fuck!" she screamed. "So deep—oh fuck—right there—right there!"
He leaned down, lips brushing her ear as he pumped into her.
Her body quivered. "You're gonna make me cum—fuck—I-I'm gonna—!"
And she did.
Her thighs trembled. Back arched. Nails raked down his shoulders.
But Ren didn't stop.
Even as her body spasmed, he kept drilling into her—his own orgasm nowhere in sight.
He chased no pleasure.
Only the high of dominance.
Of release.
Of ending something.
Her moans twisted into desperate gasps, her body twitching like a puppet cut from its strings—still clinging to fading waves of ecstasy and confusion.
The final tremors shook through her as she slipped from consciousness, eyes fluttering but unseeing, breath ragged and shallow.
He didn't slow. Didn't ease up.
His thrusts became sharper, more urgent, as if to stamp the last piece of his existence into her broken shell.
She sagged beneath him, limbs loose, the life in her dimming with every relentless slam.
Ren's teeth clenched.
The satisfaction wasn't in pleasure—it was in control.
In the irrevocable claim.
In the silence after the storm.
At last, he pulled out.
Her chest rose and fell one last time.
Then stillness.
He watched as the vacant eyes fluttered closed, the light fading from her face like a candle guttering out.
"Damn…" she gasped weakly, a ghost of a smile curling at her lips before slipping away forever.
She chuckled weakly one final time, the sound trembling and hollow.
"You're like a fucking beast… You killin' girls out here or what?"
Ren pulled his pants up slowly, standing beside the bed.
He looked at her.
Cold.
Still.
Dead calm.
"Hey," he said, voice soft. "You ever hear of the praying mantis?"
She blinked. "Huh?"
"The female bites off the male's head after mating."
She laughed, confused. "O…kay? That's kinda fucked up—"
"I like to do the opposite."
Her eyes widened.
"Wait… what—"
Crack.
His hand shot forward, grabbing her throat.
Not choking.
Crushing.
She didn't scream. Couldn't.
Only her feet kicked weakly on the sheets as her eyes bulged.
Then—nothing.
Outside, Red Moon Street hummed on.
Laughter. Music. A siren in the distance.
Behind a dumpster, her body lay slumped.
Still warm.
Still sticky.
But forgotten.
Ren walked away with blood under his nails and cum on his skin, hood up again, invisible to the world.
The ache in his chest?
Soothed.
The monster in him?
Fed.
For now.