(Chapter Two: Whispers in the Shadows)
The morning had done little to ease the unease that lingered in Lycan Manor. The crackle of the hearth, the smell of spiced tea, even the weight of the manor's stone walls—none of it could push away the image of that thing in the night sky. Lev dressed in a dark shirt and coat, sliding a leather strap over his shoulder where his silver-forged blade rested. Lance was already bouncing impatiently near the door, his youthful grin masking the nervous edge beneath. Brasco emerged last, heavy boots echoing across the hall, his broad frame draped in a long, wolf-pelted coat that brushed the ground. "Hospital first," Brasco said, fastening the clasp at his throat. His tone was hard, but his eyes were tired. "Let's see what this beast left behind."…."Right," Lev muttered, buttoning his cuffs. "And maybe hear from the poor soul who crossed its path." "Or what's left of 'em," Lance added grimly, earning a sharp look from Brasco. The Fable Hospital was a curious place. Half alchemy, half medicine. Crystal-lit halls wound between white stone walls, their air smelling of herbs and smoke. Faeries hovered above beds, sprinkling healing dust, while dwarven medics stitched wounds with threads of moonlight. The Lycan Brothers were led down a quiet corridor to a guarded chamber. Inside lay the victim of last night's attack. Lev's breath caught. The woman in the bed was pale as paper, her golden hair spread across the pillow like spilled sunlight. Her arms and shoulders bore deep claw marks, jagged lines that glowed faintly with a strange black residue that seemed to pulse as though alive. Bandages wrapped her chest, her breaths shallow but steady. "Goldilocks," Lev said. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering. When her blue eyes met theirs, fear welled instantly in them "Easy," Lev said softly, moving closer. "You're safe now. We just need to know what happened." Goldilocks swallowed, her voice weak but trembling with memory. Oh lev I—I was coming home… from the tavern. Took the forest road like always. It was quiet, until… until I heard wings." Her hand shook as she lifted it, gesturing vaguely above her. "Not like a bird. Bigger. Heavier. Then it dropped out of the sky. A bat… gods, it was the size of a wagon. Its claws tore through me like paper." She shuddered, tears sliding down her temples. "It wanted to carry me off. I don't know why it didn't. Maybe it was playing. Maybe it wanted me alive." Brosco's jaw tightened. "You're lucky it left you breathing at all. Lev crouched beside her bed, lowering his voice. "Did you see anyone else? Hear anything unusual—other than the wings?" Goldilocks hesitated. "There was… a voice. Not its voice. A man's voice. It was calling to the bat. I didn't see him, but… it stopped attacking me when he spoke." The brothers exchanged grim looks. "Rest now," Lev told her, squeezing her hand gently. "We'll find whatever did this. I swear it. The brothers stepped outside the hospital into the crisp daylight. For a moment, they stood silent, the weight of Goldilocks' words pressing down on them. "So," Lance broke the silence. we've got a monster bat the size of a wagon, and now it's got a master. Fantastic. What's next, fire-breathing frogs? "Quiet," Brasco growled. They were just beginning to argue when a voice slithered through the alley beside the hospital. "Psst. Over here." The three brothers turned instantly, hands on their weapons. In the shadow of a narrow passage crouched a wiry figure cloaked in rags. His eyes glowed faintly in the gloom—one red, one milky white "Who are you?" Brasco demanded, stepping forward. The figure held up both hands. Name's Korrin. I know what you're huntin'. Lev narrowed his eyes. "That so? And why whisper to us like a rat in the walls instead of speakin' out here in the open?" Korrin smirked, revealing teeth too sharp for comfort. "Because I value breath in my lungs. The thing you saw—ain't no ordinary Fable. It's a Night Terror. Ancient. Vicious. And it don't hunt for itself. It's bound." "Bound?" Lance echoed. "To who?" Korrin's gaze darted nervously to either end of the alley. "Some shadow-walker. Lives in the sewers. Keeps to the dark, where the Night Terrors thrive. He commands it—sends it where he wants. You kill the master, then beast is free to do as it please." The brothers stiffened, exchanging sharp glances. Lev's voice cut the silence. "How do we find him Korrin's expression twisted. He stepped back into the shadows. "I've said too much already." "Wait—" Lev began, but Korrin was already fleeing into the maze of alleys, vanishing like smoke. Lance growled, leaping after him. "I'll drag his skinny hide back". "Leave it!" Lev barked, grabbing his brother's arm. "He told us all he knew. I could smell the truth in his words." Lance yanked free, snarling. "So what now? We sit on our tails while some sewer rat sends a flying nightmare to tear Fables apart?" "We go where the trail points," Lev said firmly. "The shadows. The sewers. Brosco's face was grim as stone. "The Fable catacombs stretch for miles beneath the town. Hundreds of tunnels, dozens of entrances. We'd never find him." Lev shook his head. "We would—if we split up. There are only a few ways in and out. If he lives down there, he has to surface eventually." "Splitting up is a fool's move," Brasco snapped. "I won't risk losing one of you to the dark." The argument simmered. Finally, Brasco turned away, his voice hard. "There's nothing more we can do in daylight. We'll return to the manor. When night falls, we'll hunt." Lance muttered under his breath but obeyed, sheathing his dagger. Lev glanced back toward the alley where Korrin had vanished. The shadows there seemed darker than before, pulsing with secrets. The Night Terror had a master.
And the game had only just begun.