Horror jolted through me as Higgins’s lips parted, revealing fangs.
His muscles tensed, and before I could react, he lunged at me, his face and body contorting mid-leap.
Just as he was inches from tearing my throat out, Jake fired, and Higgins’s head snapped back as the bullet tore through his skull.
I stumbled backward, my heart pounding as the ringing in my ears faded, replaced by the heavy, almost sinister quiet that followed.
The body in front of me slumped, half-shifted, the face and hands covered in coarse, dark hair, while the mouth gaped open, showcasing his vicious fangs.
Blood splattered across the wall, still dripping in thick, slow rivulets down the wallpaper.
I couldn’t tear my gaze from Higgins, from the vacant, yellow-tinged eyes staring into nothing.
He’d looked so…human, desperate. But there, twisted in death, he looked like a true monster.
It was the kind of horror that clung to you, the sort that curled in your stomach, settling into an uncomfortable, lasting nausea.
"Better get used to it, Peterson," Jake muttered, wiping a stray fleck of blood off his face with his sleeve.
He sounded annoyed, but beneath that, I could hear the gloating in his voice. “This isn’t a game,” Jake reminded me.
I swallowed hard, shoving down the disgust and adrenaline that had me feeling sick and shaky.
I’d been trained for this moment, drilled on the art of quick, cold execution since I was barely old enough to even hold a weapon.
My brothers and my cousin, they’d both made it look so easy, so matter-of-fact.
And here I was, barely holding it together, not because I was afraid, but because…because I’d hesitated.
Jake sneered, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t have what it takes, do you?” He stepped closer, his voice a mocking whisper. "Look at you, hands shaking. What were you even planning to do, talk him to death?”
I clenched my fists, gripping my gun tight. He was right, and I hated it.
If Jake hadn’t been here, Higgins would’ve ripped me apart. No, he’d trusted me to spare him.
And I hadn’t been able to move, hadn’t even been able to decide.
Our squad leader’s voice crackled over the comms, sharp and demanding. “Report in. Is the target neutralized?”
Jake pressed his earpiece, flashing me a grin as he answered. “Confirmed. Target down.”
I didn’t even bother responding, the weight of the entire night pressing down on me.
We were all taught that hunters lived short, dangerous lives, and for the first time, that cold truth hit me hard.
I felt like I was staring down a path I wasn’t ready to walk, but one I couldn’t turn back from.
Jake gave me a look, something between pity and superiority, and I felt the anger bubbling up again.
“Let’s go,” he said, turning for the stairs.
I followed in silence, gun clutched tight against my chest, my every instinct screaming to get out of that house.
The dead weight of what had happened, of what I’d just seen, clung to me as I stepped into the hallway, every shadow and creak making me jump.
Even though I’d seen Higgins go down, the room around me felt charged, like something lingered in the air, restless and waiting.
As we reached the landing, the floor creaked beneath us, loud in the heavy quiet of the house.
