Adam Wolf's map flickered in the dim light, as if it were startled. On the old parchment, beneath Ana's pawn, a red stain appeared, spreading slowly like blood absorbed into cloth. Adam held his breath; the sign never lied.
From afar, screams tore the air, strong enough to reach even Sectors 3 and 4. On the red line that divided the safe zones from the lands of the unknown, every movement became a calculated choice, every step — a mortal risk.
Huntress Anca, leader of Sector 3, advanced with measured steps across the Plateau of the Lost. The scraping of her boots on the frozen ground sounded like a faded echo of a long-forgotten battle. Behind her, the thin mud kept only faint shadows of footprints, as if the road itself wished to erase them. Among the dry bushes, deep fresh tracks slipped through, with the unmistakable shape of a beast.
"Wild werewolves…" she murmured, letting her fingers slide over the handle of her dagger. No other creature could have left such marks. The guards' gazes met hers — the confirmation was silent, but the threat all too real.
They walked without haste, following the tracks, until suddenly the path broke off. Before her yawned a black mouth in the earth, clumsily hidden by branches. The air changed before she even saw it — the smell struck her first: warm flesh, freshly torn.
In the depth of the pit, two youths with red, gleaming eyes were tearing at a lifeless body. They ripped the flesh slowly, finely, with their teeth, like starving animals. At her appearance, they raised their heads in unison. A short, unnatural chuckle echoed from their throats, like a warning from another world.
— You do not run? she asked, her voice as sharp as the blade clenched in her palm.
One of them rose slowly, trembling, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. His lips moved, shaping words barely audible:
— Run away?… No. We were waiting for you.
Anca did not blink. Her gaze was ice, and her fingers clenched tighter on the dagger's hilt until she felt the cold burn through her leather glove.
— Waiting for me? she said, with a false smile. Then… I am sorry to disappoint you.
Before the youths could speak again, Anca slightly raised her left hand. From behind the bushes, her guard emerged like specters, bows drawn, arrowheads gleaming in the pale light.
But the two did not blink. The one who had spoken slowly lifted a blood-stained hand, fingers stretched toward her, almost gentle in the gesture.
— You misunderstood, huntress… he whispered, with a smile that was not human. It was not us who were waiting for you.
Then, the ground trembled beneath their feet, like an animal preparing to bite. In the next instant, the soil opened with a dull roar. The branches covering the pit were flung into the air, and from the depths burst dozens of paws covered in rotten fur and claws like obsidian, seizing the guards by their ankles.
Screams mingled with the crack of bones. The earth swallowed them, ripping them from the line like powerless dolls.
— Trap…! Anca shouted, stepping back, dagger flashing in her hand. Break away!
But the night wind brought her only the echo of her own voice. The rest had already been dragged into the darkness.
Her guards screamed, writhing, as the paws from the pit tore at them with animal hunger. Bones cracked under unseen bites, and blood gushed thick, splattering leaves and tree bark with a vivid red.
Anca retreated, her back pressed against an old oak. Her breath condensed in the dry air, and her eyes flashed with fury.
— Demons… she whispered through her teeth, pulling from her belt a vial filled with blue liquid, shining like a fragment of broken sky.
She threw it into the pit.
A sound of shattering glass and, suddenly, an explosion of blue flames devoured everything — shadows, flesh, laughter.
But the laughter did not fade. It grew louder.
From within the flames, a towering silhouette took shape, a hybrid monster that seemed torn from the darkest legends — a chimera, a blend of vampire and werewolf. Its skin was pale, almost translucent, like that of the undead, and its muscles pulsed beneath with beastly force. Black furs and coarse hairs stretched across its body, and its claws, long and sharp, gleamed menacingly in the blue firelight. Its eyes burned red, shining like two suns drowned in blood, filled with immeasurable rage and insatiable hunger. Cold vapors rose from its fangs, and its breath carried the stench of rot and fresh blood. It was a creature born of nightmares, a king of monsters ruling both the realm of the dead and of beasts. Fire embraced it, and it seemed to feed on it, each flame strengthening its body.
— At last… murmured a voice belonging to a single mouth, yet echoing like the lost. "Save us, Anca…" that is what one of your people whispered to me before he died.
And then its smile revealed fangs far too long to be human.
Anca said nothing. In a flash, her dagger flew from her hand, slicing through the air — but the blade was caught between the monster's fingers. A dry snap rang out as the metal broke like a twig.
— Where… is my mask… — the chimera spoke, closing its eyes for a moment, as if listening to a distant echo. In its voice throbbed an old obsession, an unfinished vow.
Anca's heart pounded like a drum. She felt trapped, a mouse in the teeth of a snare.
From the shadows of the trees, a deep growl approached. The chimera seemed to sense with its entire body the mask's location. Like a radar protecting against surprise attacks:
— There you were… cursed mask… it spat with hatred.
Anca's gaze followed the path and saw it. Among leaves and branches, a silver mask, cracked in four places, like old scars.
A cold thought pierced her mind: A monster… immune to silver?
She could not hold back any longer and asked, her voice trembling:
— What kind of monster are you? If even silver does not harm you… then what could kill you…
The chimera burst into a deep, booming laughter, like an avalanche shaking the mountains, as if it had not heard such a good joke in decades.
When the laughter faded, a sharp voice, almost a hiss, cut through the air:
— In truth, I have become a chimera. And now, I am the king here!
Anca bit her lip, feeling her breath tremble in her chest. Escape seemed impossible, yet in her heart not a single thought of running was born.
— Then… come, king, she said with a cold voice, pulling a second blade from her hip. Let us see who laughs last.
The chimera leapt at her with superhuman force. Anca dodged at the last instant; the blade cut deep into the monster's side, but pain seemed to avoid him.
With a swift motion, he turned his head and bit her shoulder.
Anca's scream rang out like shattering glass, while a cold shiver slid through her veins, mingling with the blood that flowed. She struggled, but the chimera held her tight, merciless.
— Now… you are mine, he whispered almost into her ear.
The last thing Anca saw was the silhouette of her guard, dragged with difficulty from the pit — but they were no longer human. Blood soaked the grass, flowing endlessly, and her body fell lifeless, shrouded in ever-growing shadows.
Adam watched the map with a weight pressing heavier and heavier. The pawn from Sector 3 sank into an unseen river of blood, drowned beneath the burden of a tragedy already ended. The map seemed to vibrate, its outlines darkening, as if the parchment itself whispered silently of the death that had descended upon this land. In that oppressive silence, Adam knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Blood was flowing, and shadows stretched their claws — and he had to be ready for what was to come.