I didn't go back to my apartment.
If they were watching me, that would be the first place they'd look.
I spent the afternoon walking—through crowded streets, underground stations, anywhere I could blend in. The city was loud, alive, indifferent. No one knew I was supposed to be dead in three days.
Good.
By evening, the hunger returned.
It wasn't physical. My stomach was fine. My body felt normal.
But inside my chest, something twisted and tightened, like a clenched fist slowly closing.
The whisper brushed against my thoughts.
Kill them.
I stopped walking.
"…Not them," I murmured. "Not yet."
The pressure intensified.
Images flickered at the edge of my vision—shadows collapsing, something dark flowing into me, warmth replacing emptiness.
So that was it.
The ability wasn't a suggestion.
It was a demand.
I needed a test subject.
---
I found him behind a convenience store two blocks from the station.
Late twenties. Cheap jacket. Eyes darting around too much.
A mugger.
In my previous life, he'd cornered me here once. Pressed a knife to my ribs and laughed while emptying my wallet. I'd reported it.
Nothing had happened.
Tonight, he grabbed a woman by the arm.
"Hey—let go!" she shouted, struggling.
People passed by.
No one stopped.
My steps slowed.
I could walk away.
I told myself that.
The whisper surged, sharp and eager.
Now.
The man turned—and froze when he saw me.
"What do you want?" he snapped, tightening his grip on the woman.
I didn't answer.
Something inside me moved.
The air around my body felt heavier, thicker, like I was wading through invisible liquid. My heartbeat slowed instead of racing.
For the first time, I wasn't afraid.
"Get lost," he said, pulling the knife.
I stepped forward.
He slashed.
The blade never reached me.
A black haze burst from my chest, wrapping around his arm like smoke made solid. He screamed as the knife clattered to the ground.
"What the hell—?!"
The woman tore free and ran.
I didn't look after her.
My eyes were locked on him.
The haze tightened.
Bones cracked.
He collapsed, shrieking, clawing at his own arm as if trying to tear something invisible away.
"Please—please stop!"
I hesitated.
One thought surfaced.
If I kill him…
The whisper roared.
TAKE IT.
The black haze surged forward, engulfing his head.
The scream cut off abruptly.
Silence.
His body went limp.
Then—
Something rushed into me.
Heat.
Memories.
Fear.
I staggered back, gasping as foreign images flooded my mind—dark alleys, stolen wallets, blood on hands that weren't mine.
The haze recoiled, sinking back into my chest.
The hunger vanished.
In its place was a strange, unsettling fullness.
I stared at the body.
Dead.
My first kill.
My hands were shaking.
But not from guilt.
From clarity.
My phone buzzed.
I looked down.
[NECROTIC ASSIMILATION SUCCESSFUL]
ACQUIRED: NIGHT STEP (MINOR)
DESCRIPTION: Short-range movement enhancement in low-light environments.
I swallowed.
"So this is how it works…"
Sirens wailed in the distance.
I turned away from the body and stepped into the shadows.
This time—
I moved faster than I should have been able to.
And somewhere far above the city, something ancient stirred.