SOUR CANDY — PART 3
Resurrection of the Hunter
The air hung heavy with secrets and old blood.
In a forgotten crypt beneath the crumbling ruins of an ancient chapel, Jude moved with purpose. His fingers trembled—not from fear, but anticipation—as he traced the outlines of fractured glass shards arranged meticulously in a pattern older than any law.
The shards shimmered faintly, pulsing with a dark energy born from forbidden blood magic—magic that bent life and death like a cruel joke.
He whispered ancient words, his voice low, weaving the fragments together with power beyond what most dared touch.
"Rise... for the son... for the hunter's will..."
A crack appeared in the center of the shard circle, and through it, a flicker of movement.
Marcus Raines gasped awake.
His eyes snapped open, wild and unfocused. The world was cold and gray around him—a labyrinth of shadows and stone.
His lungs filled with heavy air, thick with the scent of earth and decay.
