A man entered the bathroom to use the urinal. Afterward, he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. As he scrubbed, he glanced into the mirror in front of him. His reflection stared back—behind it, the bathroom door.
Suddenly, a flash of light blinked behind the door, and two feet appeared beneath it.
The man froze, raising an eyebrow.
The door slid open with a slow creak. Riven stepped out silently.
The man glanced at him, mildly disturbed, but said nothing as he returned to washing his hands.
Riven exited the bathroom and stepped into a contrasting world: the faint scent of produce and detergent, rows of stocked shelves, and soft jazz playing overhead. The grocery store was calm—peaceful, even.
Riven was not.
His skin was pale, eyes shadowed, and his expression unreadable. He walked slowly down an aisle, scanning for what he needed. People who passed him instinctively kept their distance. His bloodstained clothes made him look like something out of a horror film.
"Mom, is it Halloween?" a little girl asked.
"No, dear," her mother replied, glancing nervously at Riven.
"Then why is he dressed like a zombie?"
The mother looked again, more cautiously this time. "I don't know, honey... let's just go." She gripped her daughter's hand and hurried away.
At the front counter, two employees had been watching Riven the entire time.
"Did he come through the door?" asked the male employee, Fil.
"I... I don't know," replied Sarah, his coworker.
They both stared at Riven in silence.
"What do you think he's here for?" Fil asked.
Sarah shrugged. "Why don't you go ask?"
"Why me?"
"Because I'm on the register and you're not." She waved him away.
Fil sighed and approached.
"Uh, excuse me?" he said, cautiously nearing Riven.
Riven turned, giving him a look so cold that Fil froze mid-step.
"What?" Riven's voice was low, almost growling.
"I just want to ask you a few questions..."
Riven said nothing, just brushed his fingers across the shelf labels.
"Do you know where I can find alcohol?" he asked, still not looking at Fil.
"It's—over there. But I don't think you're old enough to—"
Before he could finish, Riven took a glass bottle, popped the cap off, and raised it to his lips.
"You need to pay for that!" Fil blurted out.
Riven gave him a sudden, piercing stare. Then, in a blink, he threw something—too fast to follow. Fil froze as his watch beeped.
Transaction complete.
Riven walked past him and retrieved his credit card, now embedded in the wall. He stepped in close.
"I threw the card at your watch," he whispered. "I've paid. So leave me alone."
Fil nodded nervously as Riven gulped down the bottle.
A warm surge of energy rushed through Riven's limbs. The alcohol burned pleasantly, and for the first time in hours, he felt... alive. He took a deep breath and began to laugh—a strange, quiet laugh of relief.
Fil, still watching from behind, noticed the shift in Riven's demeanor. The blank mask cracked.
Riven caught his gaze, stopped laughing, then glanced down at himself—his ears flushed red.
"Uh... can I buy some new clothes?" he asked. "And maybe... other stuff?"
Fil just nodded.
******
Riven stepped out of the store wearing fresh clothes, a tote bag of supplies in one hand and a backup bottle of alcohol in the other. He stood beneath the awning, stared out at the sunlit street, and exhaled.
He shut his eyes and stepped forward into the sunlight.
Riven opened his eyes. "Cool."
The sun didn't hurt exactly, but it felt hotter than it should have. He started walking.
Up ahead, a group of boys stood near the path. One of them—a broad-shouldered blond—looked familiar.
They spotted him and immediately started whispering, grinning among themselves.
Then they moved to block his way.
"What do you want?" Riven asked, irritation seeping into his voice.
The blond guy sized him up, smirking. "Just curious. Hey, guys, look—it's the guy who beat up all the monkeys during the test!"
His friends snickered.
"I didn't," Riven muttered, flushing slightly.
"Name's Blake," the blond said, ignoring him. "We're just having our free time while looking for a fifth for our team."
"Team?" Riven echoed, confused.
"Oh, right. You probably got knocked out before the details," Blake mocked. "After you left, Kade made a rule—everyone needs a team before midnight."
He leaned in. "I'd start packing now. No one's gonna pick you."
"What if I want to work alone?" Riven asked.
"You don't have a choice."
Blake's smirk widened. "But we came for something else."
One of the boys snatched Riven's credit card.
"Hey—give that back!" Riven shouted, reaching out.
Blake shoved him. "Calm down. We need to finish our shopping."
"Give it back," Riven growled, teeth clenched.
"Or what? Beat me up? I don't waste strength on guys like you."
Riven clenched his fists but didn't move. Not yet.
"I thought so," Blake sneered. "See you around—if you make it."
He and his crew walked off, laughing.
Riven stood still, fists shaking, watching them go. Rage burned in his chest.
Then, a notification appeared before his eyes.
Riven's eyes narrowed.
The hunt had just begun.