Chapter 72: The First Body
The smell hit him before the sight did.
Iron.
Wet.
Fresh.
Justin stopped walking.
Not because he was afraid.
Because something inside him… leaned toward it.
That was new.
That was wrong.
The forest was too quiet. No insects. No wind. Just that smell, thick in the air, like something breathing through the trees.
He swallowed.
Too slow.
Too loud.
And then he saw it.
A body.
Folded wrong.
Half-hidden beneath a broken branch, like the forest itself had tried to cover it up and failed.
Justin didn’t move closer.
His body did.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Like he wasn’t being pulled… but answered.
The man was still warm.
That was the first thing he noticed.
Not the blood.
Not the torn throat.
Warm.
Justin crouched beside him, fingers hovering just above the skin.
Alive, a part of him whispered.
Not anymore.
His hand dropped.
Touched.
Heat.
Fading.
And something inside his chest tightened… not with grief.
With hunger.
He yanked his hand back like he’d been burned.
“What the hell is wrong with me…”
But even as he said it, his eyes hadn’t left the wound.
Clean.
Precise.
Not an animal.
Not fully.
The edges were wrong. Too deliberate. Too… controlled.
A kill.
Not a feeding.
Justin exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself, but his pulse only climbed higher, louder, sharper.
It wasn’t panic.
It was anticipation.
Like his body was waiting for something.
Or someone.
A twig snapped behind him.
Justin turned instantly.
Too fast.
Too sharp.
The movement didn’t feel human.
It felt efficient.
There was nothing there.
Just trees.
Shadows.
Silence.
But the feeling stayed.
Not alone.
Watching.
Judging.
Justin stood, every muscle pulled tight, senses stretching out further than they ever had before.
And then—
A voice.
Not behind him.
Not in front.
Inside.
“You’re late.”
Justin froze.
His breath caught.
That wasn’t his thought.
It didn’t sound like him.
It didn’t feel like him.
“Who the hell—”
“You felt it, didn’t you?”
The voice again.
Calm.
Certain.
Like it had been waiting a long time.
Justin’s heart slammed harder.
“What are you?”
A pause.
Then—
A soft, almost amused exhale.
“I’m what you become… if you stop pretending you’re still human.”
Justin staggered back a step.
“No.”
Too fast.
Too instinctive.
Too afraid.
The voice didn’t argue.
It didn’t need to.
Because Justin’s eyes had already drifted back to the body.
To the blood.
To the wound.
And this time…
He didn’t look away.
“You’re already changing.”
The voice was closer now.
Colder.
Sharper.
“Your control is slipping.”
Justin clenched his fists.
“I’m not like this.”
Silence.
Then—
“Then prove it.”
A breeze moved through the trees.
And for a second—
Just a second—
Justin caught it.
Another scent.
Alive.
Close.
Running.
His head snapped toward it instantly.
His body leaned forward.
Ready.
Hunting.
No.
He forced himself still.
Forced his breathing to slow.
Forced his mind to think.
But his legs didn’t listen.
They moved.
One step forward.
Then another.
Faster now.
The forest blurred slightly as his senses sharpened, locking onto that scent like it was the only thing that mattered.
“Stop.”
He said it out loud.
To himself.
To whatever was happening.
But his body didn’t stop.
It surged.
The distance closed.
Too fast.
Too easy.
And then—
He saw her.
A girl.
Running.
Terrified.
She tripped, hitting the ground hard, scrambling back, eyes wide with something that wasn’t confusion.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Like she knew exactly what he was.
What he was about to do.
Justin stopped.
Just in front of her.
Chest rising.
Breath uneven.
Eyes locked onto hers.
She shook her head slowly.
“No…”
A whisper.
Breaking.
“Please… don’t…”
Justin’s fingers twitched.
His jaw tightened.
The voice inside him went quiet.
Waiting.
Watching.
He could hear her heartbeat.
Fast.
Fragile.
Right there.
All he had to do—
“No.”
This time it came out stronger.
Rougher.
Real.
Justin stepped back.
Then another.
Dragging himself away like it physically hurt to do it.
“I’m not—”
The girl moved.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
And Justin’s control snapped.
He was on her before he realized he’d moved.
Hand around her throat.
Pinning her down.
Her scream cut off instantly.
His breath came fast now.
Animal.
Broken.
Hungry.
Her pulse hammered against his fingers.
And for one horrifying second—
He leaned closer.
Teeth grazing skin.
This is what you are.
The thought wasn’t his.
But it felt true.
Too true.
Justin’s grip tightened—
Then stopped.
Shaking.
Violent.
Uncontrolled.
“No.”
A whisper.
Barely human.
He forced his hand away.
Forced himself back.
Fell to his knees like something inside him had just been ripped out.
The girl scrambled away instantly, gasping, shaking, not even looking back as she ran.
Justin didn’t chase.
He couldn’t.
He was too busy trying not to tear himself apart.
Silence fell again.
Heavy.
Thick.
Then—
A slow, disappointed voice.
“You hesitated.”
Justin stared at the ground, chest heaving.
“Good,” the voice continued softly.
“That means it’ll hurt more when you don’t.”
Justin’s hands curled into fists.
Blood on his fingers.
Not his.
Not yet.
“You think this was a choice,” the voice whispered.
“It wasn’t.”
A pause.
Then, colder—
“It’s a countdown.”
Justin’s head snapped up.
“What does that mean?”
Silence.
Then the faintest echo of something that might have been a smile.
“It means next time…”
A beat.
“You won’t stop.”