Fear
That was the only thing flooding his mind as he tore through the forest.
Bare feet slamming against roots and rocks, shoulder-length black hair whipping behind him like a tattered flag.
Dull amber eyes darted wildly, scanning for monsters, men, or any other predator.
The world hated his kind.
Beasts. Slaves. Subhuman. The shouts chased him now, carried on the wind.
"Hey! It's over here!"
"Filthy thing thinks it can run."
"What do you expect? It's just a beast."
He twisted toward the voices—just in time for something searing hot to slam into his back.
Pain. White-hot. Blinding.
His skin, darker than caramel and once smooth, blistered black like burning charcoal.
But he didn't scream. He couldn't. Not yet. Not when the need to escape overpowered everything else.
Spinning on trembling legs, his wide, panicked eyes locked onto the source.
A woman.
Ash-gray hair framed her sharp, elegant face. Her pale blue eyes glowed, flat and detached, as fire danced in her hands.
She stood tall, taller than most men, easily six foot four, with a dangerously curvaceous figure that only made her presence more unnerving.
But her expression was blank. Cold.
"Looks like the boss found it."
Two men stepped out behind him, grinning. One looked like he hadn't stopped laughing since birth.
"Tried to tell you," one said.
We gave it the relaxant, just like you said, Mistress V., but then it snapped.
Tore through the Auction House window like a rabid beast.
The woman said nothing. She just stared.
But the beast—no, the boy wasn't even listening anymore.
His mind, shattered by trauma and drugs, barely held together. Instinct screamed louder than reason.
He bolted. Again. This time, to the right.
But the fat one moved like a shadow despite his size.
He crashed into the boy, pinning him beneath a wall of meat and sweat.
Four hundred pounds of flesh crushed his ribs into the dirt.
But even that didn't stop him. The boy bit down. Hard.
His fangs tore through the man's stomach, skin, fat, blood, and muscle, ripping away with a wet snap.
Blood sprayed like a fountain.
"AAAHHHH!!"
"Jake!" The other man screamed, stumbling toward his fallen comrade.
The boy used that moment to escape. He scrambled free, running on all fours, blood dripping from his chin.
Mistress V didn't move. She simply watched, eyes flat and bored, as if the whole chase was beneath her.
Then, without a hint of urgency, she held out a small glass bottle filled with glowing yellow liquid.
"Give him this."
The remaining man accepted it with trembling hands and a shaky smile. But when he turned to look at her again.
Mistress V had vanished.
Dread
He felt her coming before his ears could even pick up the sound of her approaching.
Dread. Heavy and cold. A crushing weight that squeezed his chest, as if unseen hands were caging his heart.
"Do you really think you can run, little beast?"
Her voice scraped against his skull like nails on glass.
She appeared beside him. One moment empty air. The next her.
Then came the kick.
Her boot slammed into his ribs, launching him sideways.
He crashed against a tree with a sickening crunch, blood spewing from his lips in a hot stream.
"Why don't you come with me?" she whispered, stepping closer.
"Maybe I'll keep you as a little pet. If no one buys you, of course."
She crouched, fingers threading through the black hair clinging to his bruised face.
His features were sharp in a feral way unrefined, untamed. A face not yet marred by strength.
"Money comes before pleasure," she said with a lazy grin. "Can't damage the product.
You understand, don't you, little beast?"
Her voice dripped false sweetness, slick and oily, like poison wrapped in silk.
Anger
That smile.He didn't understand all her words.
His fractured mind was drowning in broken sentences and memories that he could barely comprehend.
So how would he be able to comprehend her words which where only said to anger him.
But even so she still seemed to achieved her goal, That ugly smile on her disgusting face was enough.
Rage.
His arm lashed out, claws aiming for her face.But she was faster.
Her burning hand slammed into his stomach.
He screamed as her fingers scorched his flesh, branding him carving something deep into his skin.
A symbol.
A swirling black vortex that she seemed to have some attachment to.
Pain
Endless pain that was all he was feeling along with fear? Suffocating.
The burning wouldn't stop.
She pressed her hand harder into his stomach, dragging her fingers across his skin like she was shaping wet clay.
"Oh? You like that, little beast?" she cooed. "Why don't you scream for me?"
His body trembled violently but still, he refused to scream.Her grin faltered.
"I said scream!"She punched him again and again fists wreathed in fire.
His face blistered.
His hair scorched.
Even his wolf-like ears black, sharp, and twitching in agony began to burn.Still… no scream.
He refused to scream, he refused to give her the satisfaction.
Eventually, the others arrived.
"M-Mistress V…" the fat one stammered, clutching his gut.
"The Auction… it's almost time…"
"Hmph."
She stood, soaked in his blood, her wicked grin never fading.
With a slow, deliberate gesture, she grabbed his long, fluffy black tail still smoldering from her flames and dragged him through the dirt like discarded trash.
The others followed, careful to stay out of her shadow.
And then in the beast Unconscious mind he heard a voice. Cold. Mechanical. Alien.
[Congratulations, Descendant Azrael. You have reached 18 years of age.]
[As a gift, Lord ███████ has left you two blessings. Unlike others, these are unique to you. Cherish them.]
[Freedom of the Broken]
[Body of Pure Devastation]
[Happy birthday, Descendant Azrael.]
[And welcome to the ██████ System.]
[To view your status, think "Status." To learn more please complete your first mission.]
But even hearing this the only thing he could feel in his heart was hatred overwhelming hatred.