The woods were draped in a veil of moonlight, shadows stretching long beneath the trees. The moon rose high above, casting its pale glow on the narrow trail that cut through Wayland Woods. Adolfo stopped walking.
"Blanchette…" he rasped, voice rough and tight. "It is… happening…"
Blanchette turned sharply.
"Fight it, Adolfo! You can do it."
Adolfo only managed to resist for a few seconds before disappearing into werewolf form. A long, bone-chilling howl tore through the trees, sending birds scattering into the night. The werewolf stood tall and furious. Blanchette lunged at him with her taser, crackling and lit, but the beast was ready this time. It reacted with blinding speed, catching her by the leg and hurling her into a tree. She hit it hard, a crunch sounding from her ribs. She let out a gasp and crumpled to the ground, coughing, taser slipping from her fingers.
The werewolf turned, hearing the sound of hooves touching the ground. Lillian burst into the clearing on horseback, her revolver already drawn.
"Back away from her, you mutt!"
She fired twice. The shots hit, but the beast hardly staggered. It swiped at the mare, sending the animal screaming into the woods. Lillian leapt off just in time, rolled, and came up with her knife. She slashed. The blade connected. The werewolf shrieked and slammed her into the ground. The blow knocked the knife from her hand and the wind from her lungs. She tried to crawl back, reaching for her revolver, but the beast kicked it away. It pounced, claws raised. Blanchette, barely conscious, grabbed the taser with trembling fingers and jammed it into the werewolf's back. Crack!
The beast shrieked but instead of going down, it spun and backhanded her across the clearing, her body slamming into the base of a tree. Her vision blurred, the world spinning, and then darkness. The werewolf turned back toward Lillian. She was still on her knees, blood dripping from her mouth, trying to lift her head. The monster loomed over her, growling, fangs bared.
Lillian glared up at the werewolf "I knew I should have killed you."
But then, the werewolf stopped. Its claws trembled mid-swing. Its chest rose and fell rapidly. A strange sound escaped its throat, not a growl, not a howl, but something close to a sob. Its glowing eyes flickered. It stumbled backward, clutching its head with shaking claws. Then, with a cry of pain and rage, it disappeared, and Adolfo appeared again. He collapsed beside Lillian, unconscious. Lillian's head dropped against the earth. Her breath was shallow. Blood smeared her sleeve. She did not move.
The clearing was still. The moon shone on the wreckage of the fight, scorched earth, bloodied grass, a shattered taser and scattered weapons. All three were down. Only the forest watched, silent and still.
Adolfo stirred with a groan, his body heavy, his limbs aching like they had been dragged. His eyes fluttered open to soft golden light pouring in through a curtained window. The scent of warm bread and herbs drifted through the air. He was lying on a bed, actual sheets beneath him, clean and dry. A faint crackle came from a small fireplace across the room. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming… or dead. Then he heard voices.
To his left and right, on similar beds, Blanchette sat upright, sipping something from a wooden cup while Lillian leaned back with a bandage wrapped around her shoulder. They both looked tired but alive.
Blanchette was the first to notice him. "Well look who is up."
Adolfo blinked. "Where… where are we?"
"A house. Somewhere near the western edge of Wayland Woods. We woke up here about an hour ago," Blanchette replied.
Lillian joined in the conversation, "You managed to resist and not kill us. Maybe there is hope for you after all."
Adolfo sat up with a wince, looking between them.
"But… how did we get here?"
Before either of them could answer, the door creaked open. A young man with pale gold skin stepped in carrying a wooden tray of food, fresh bread, a bowl of warm stew, and dried fruits.
"Ah," the man said with a serene smile. "You are awake. That is good. You were fading fast when I found you."
He set the tray down on a small table between the beds.
Blanchette nodded toward him.
"This is Albus. He is the one who found us. Says he just heard us."
"Which of you… howled?" Albus asked.
"That… was me," Adolfo replied.
Albus tilted his head slightly.
"Interesting."
"So who are you? And what exactly were you doing in the heart of the woods at night?"
Blanchette and Lillian exchanged a glance, then nodded.
Lillian spoke first. "I am Lillian. I am the protector of Wayland Woods. And up until last night, I was trying to kill that guy," she gestured toward Adolfo.
"But," Blanchette continued, "we are trying to kill someone else, Callidora. A vampire queen. She cursed him to become a werewolf."
Adolfo leaned forward, voice quiet. "She did it to punish my father… a vampire hunter. I never even met the man, but she made me into this thing— to hurt people I love. To break me."
Albus listened closely, nodding with understanding rather than judgment.
"I see," he said. "Then your path crosses with mine."
Blanchette raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
Albus met her gaze.
"Because something dark is coming to this world… and I have been told I need to gather people like you. People with pain. With purpose. And with the courage to fight back."
A heavy silence followed Albus's words, the crackle of the fireplace filling the space between them.
Blanchette frowned, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"Fight back… what, exactly?"
Albus looked down for a moment, his expression shadowed with thought.
"I do not know yet," he admitted quietly. "Only that something ancient is waking… something full of hate. My father, he is not like most, he can sense these things, and he gave me the mission to prepare for it. To find others who might stand against it and protect this realm."
Lillian scoffed lightly. "You are gathering heroes then? Hate to break it to you, but you are barking up the wrong tree."
"Agreed," Blanchette said. Her eyes were hard. "I am no savior. I am not trying to save the world. I just want Callidora dead. That is it. That is all this is for me. It is all about revenge."
Albus did not flinch at the coldness in her voice. Instead, he stepped forward and addressed each of them directly, his amber eyes calm and unwavering. He looked at Lillian first.
"You call yourself the protector of Wayland Woods. Then that means your duty is not just to hunt lone threats, but to stand against what seeks to rot the very heart of these lands. If the darkness I speak of spreads, it will consume the woods you swore to guard."
Lillian's gaze faltered for just a moment. Then Albus turned to Blanchette.
"And you… revenge may feel like a mission, but it is a hollow one once it is done. What happens after you kill Callidora? Do you stop?"
Blanchette's jaw clenched. "It might help me sleep."
"And after you sleep?" Albus asked gently. "What will your life be built on then? Pain can't hold a foundation forever. I think you know that."
Her gaze fell, the firelight dancing in her eyes. She did not answer.
Finally, he looked to Adolfo, who had not said a word since his confession.
"You fear the beast inside you, but that beast does not have to be your end. It can become something else. Something useful."
Adolfo looked at him.
"It cannot be useful if I cannot control it"
Albus nodded.
"I might know a way though," he replied.
Adolfo met his gaze, something flickering behind his tired eyes— hope, or fear of it. Albus stepped back and reached for a leather satchel near the wall. He placed it on the table, unfastened the strap, and unwrapped it. Inside were garlic-laced blades, bullets and arrows.
"I can give you the tools to kill Callidora," Albus said. "And I will help you."
Lillian's brow lifted. "You are coming with us?"
"Yes. I may not know everything about what is coming, but I do know that Callidora could be tied to the darkness coming. It is too complicated to explain right now. Take these weapons. Use them. And while you do… consider what I have said."
He looked around at the three battered souls before him, not with judgment but quiet faith.
"You do not have to be heroes. We do not have to be a team," Albus added softly, "just… stop what is coming.. I will be ready whenever you are to hunt that vampire."
Then he turned and walked quietly out of the room, leaving the fire to flicker and the questions to burn in their silence.
Later that day, the road to Blackhaven narrowed into a cracked path, its edges clawed by twisted roots and whispering brush. Wind danced low to the ground, dragging leaves and dust in aimless circles. The air had grown colder. Sharper. As if the land ahead had forgotten how to breathe. They walked in silence, the group of four weaving between leaning trees and ancient stone markers.
Adolfo was the first to speak, his voice low, "We are getting close."
Blanchette, walking beside him, nodded without a word. At the rear, Lillian tugged the reins of her restless horse while Albus walked steadily at her side. The glow of sunset draped his golden cloak in long shadows. When they crested a low ridge, the four came to a stop. Below, in the fading light, lay Blackhaven. It was not a town. Not anymore. Collapsed towers. Gutted manors. Bone-white pillars rising like ribs from the dark soil. A miasma of mist clung low to the ground, thickening as it neared the black-stone palace at the center of the valley, Callidora's palace.
"We camp here," Lillian said, swinging down from her saddle. "We can't walk into that place without a plan… and without dealing with the other thing."
She looked meaningfully at Adolfo. He lowered his eyes.
"The moon will rise in less than an hour," Adolfo said.
They found a dry clearing tucked behind a leaning oak. Lillian started a small fire while Blanchette checked the perimeter. Adolfo sat a short distance away, staring into the woods, muscles tight beneath his skin. Albus quietly unpacked a few supplies, blankets and salted bread. They ate without speaking, each caught in their own thoughts. Finally, Adolfo stood and turned to face them.
"I need to say something," he began.
Blanchette looked up, sword across her knees. "Let me guess. You want us to tie you up again."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "It will not help."
He stepped closer to the firelight, the shadows under his eyes deeper now.
"When I turn… the beast does not think like me. It does not feel guilt, or reason, or fear. It only wants one thing—" He paused, his jaw tightening. "To eat. People. Flesh."
Lillian's hand slowly shifted to her holster, but she did not draw.
Adolfo raised his hands calmly. "But listen… I have been learning something."
He crouched by the fire, looking into the flames.
"The beast and I… we are not the same, but we are not completely separate either. If I give it something to focus on… if I agree to the hunt… I believe it will listen."
"Listen for what?" Blanchette asked warily.
"To aim it at the right enemy," Adolfo said. "Vampires. The thing inside me… it hates their blood. It knows they are prey too."
Albus nodded slowly, listening with intent.
"So if I give it what it wants," Adolfo went on, "if I tell it to feed on them… not you… I think it will listen. I think it will spare you."
He looked at the three of them, his voice steady, but low.
"I cannot promise anything. But if we fight vampires at night, and you let me be the weapon… then we might have an advantage."
A heavy silence followed.
Lillian leaned back, arms folded. "You expect us to trust that you will control it?"
"No," Adolfo said quietly. "I am asking you to let me try."
Blanchette exhaled and reached for her taser, placing it in her lap.
"You know the deal. You get out of control, you get the volts."
Adolfo gave a dry half-smile.
"That is the idea."
Albus, still silent, placed a small piece of bread in Adolfo's hand. Inside, garlic blossoms floated in clear liquid.
"Eat, man," he said gently. "Do not be scared of yourself, and everything will work out."
The sky darkened further. The trees shifted as a cold breeze rolled over the camp, and high above, behind a veil of gray, the moon was about to rise.