The first attack happened on a Wednesday.
Fitting.
I was coming back from Combat Tactics—bruised, mildly annoyed, and carrying a wooden training stake that looked more like a joke than a weapon. The hallway was empty. Too empty. At Nocturne, that usually meant one of two things:
1. Something was hiding.
2. Or something was hunting.
I chose to believe it was the second.
The lights above me flickered once. Then again. Then all at once went out.
I stopped walking.
The silence wasn't just quiet—it was wrong. Like something had sucked the sound out of the air.
I heard it next. A low growl. Wet. Animal. Too close.
I turned just in time to see a shadow drop from the ceiling.
It landed in front of me, crouched and snarling. Pale skin. Fangs too long. Eyes like dying stars.
A feral vampire.
Unregistered. Rogue. Probably exiled. Definitely hungry.
I stepped back slowly.
It crept forward, sniffing the air. Then it stopped—and tilted its head.
"You're… not normal," it hissed, voice cracked and dry. "Not human. Not vampire. What are you?"
I gave it a tight smile. "Wouldn't you like to know."
It lunged.
I moved.
The wooden stake came up fast, but not fast enough. It slammed into my shoulder and sent me skidding into the stone wall. Pain exploded down my side.
I didn't drop the stake.
"Cute trick," I muttered, blood in my mouth. "Wanna see mine?"
The vampire hissed and came again. This time, I was ready.
I twisted under it, slammed the stake upward—and missed the heart by inches. It screamed in my ear and clawed at my arm, tearing fabric and skin alike. I kicked it off, rolled, and stood—shaking, bleeding, pissed off.
It was faster. Stronger.
But I was smarter.
The corridor curved ahead. Torchlight flickered at the corner. I made a break for it, leading it right where I needed.
As soon as I hit the turn, I dropped low and shoved the stake behind me, one hand out.
The vampire turned the corner at full speed—and ran straight into it.
The wood hit its chest. Not deep enough to kill.
But enough to slow it.
I grabbed the nearest torch, ripped it from the wall, and jammed it into the wound.
Flames met flesh.
It shrieked—high and terrible—and vanished in a puff of scorched air and smoke.
Silence returned.
My breath came hard and fast. Blood dripped from my arm. My jacket was ruined.
So much for staying low-profile.
Juno found me five minutes later, still leaning against the wall, breathing through the pain.
"What the hell happened?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Rogue. Tried to snack on me."
She blinked. "You're kidding."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Her eyes flicked to the burn mark on the floor. "Damn. Most first-years would've been toast. Literally."
"I'm not most first-years."
"Clearly." She helped me up, glanced around. "We need to report this."
"No."
Juno blinked. "No?"
I shook my head. "They'll ask questions I don't want to answer."
She narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"
I forced a smile through the pain. "Someone you'll want on your side."
We walked back in silence. I could feel the eyes watching from the dark corners of the school. Word would spread. Someone would tell Kael. Or worse, the Headmaster.
Let them.
They were starting to learn what I already knew.
I didn't come here to play by the rules.I came to burn them.