58. Hunter
The Brooks Mansion was no longer a mansion.
It was a living nightmare.
Walls shook.
Shadows writhed like snakes.
Temperature dropped to a freezing, bone-cracking cold.
Aiden and Chloe clung to Maximilian like toddlers clutching a dying lifeline.
Max's breath came out sharp and uneven—
blood dripping from his forehead, vision blurred from impact—
But this time…
He didn't panic.
He forced his mind to go still.
A calm so violent it was terrifying.
His heartbeat slowed.
His breathing steadied.
The roaring chaos faded into the background of his focus.
He wasn't the CEO right now.
Not a leader.
Not the Brooks heir.
Right now…
He was a hunter.
---
A thick, suffocating darkness slithered toward him.
It pressed on his lungs, made the air feel like poison.
A growl, deep and ancient, vibrated right behind him.
Aiden whispered, voice cracking:
"M-Max… it's right… it's behind you—"
Max didn't look back.
He closed his eyes—
and listened.
The shift in the air.
The subtle displacement.
The cold breath hitting his neck.
There.
He turned sharply—
hand reaching out blindly—
—and grabbed the heavy iron ceremonial artifact from the nearby table.
A thick, solid, brutal weapon.
Just as the entity lunged—
Max swung.
HARD.
With all his strength.
All his weight.
All the fury built inside him.
The iron slammed through the air and collided with something unseen—
CRACK—!!
A howl exploded through the mansion.
Not human.
Not animal.
A demonic shriek, raw and furious, echoing like something burning alive.
Aiden and Chloe screamed, covering their ears.
The lights burst simultaneously like exploding stars.
Max didn't flinch.
His chest heaved.
Blood dripped down his cheek.
His grip tightened on the iron artifact.
"Got you," he growled under his breath.
---
His pocket vibrated violently.
RING.
RING.
RING.
Over and over.
He didn't even check the screen.
He couldn't.
Not when Aiden's arm was bleeding.
Not when Chloe's legs were bruised.
Not when something invisible was circling them like prey.
Max spat blood out of his mouth and readied himself again.
The phone rang harder—
as if someone was desperate to reach him.
But Max couldn't spare a breath.
Couldn't spare a second.
He was fighting a war no one else could see.
---
Across Hollowmist City…
Marcelline sat on her velvet sofa, sipping hot chocolate, wrapped in a soft blanket.
Calm.
Quiet.
Perfectly peaceful.
Until—
Her entire body froze.
A violent chill slashed down her spine, sharp as a blade.
The mug slipped from her hand, shattering against the floor.
The air thickened.
Darkness prickled under her skin.
Something powerful.
Something ancient.
Something WRONG.
Her heartbeat picked up—
not out of fear…
But fury.
She turned sharply, eyes narrowing.
"That energy…"
Her voice dropped into something low.
Something inhuman.
"That… THING… finally showed itself?"
Her pupils dilated—
Then glowed.
Bright.
Intense.
Pure yellow, like molten gold.
The symbol of her demonic awakening.
Her demonic side tore open like a second skin.
Her aura surged—
vibrant, destructive, awakened.
The curtains whipped from the force.
The floors vibrated.
The night outside bent around her presence.
She didn't walk.
She launched forward, disappearing in a blur of speed.
The wind cracked behind her like thunder as she rushed through the night—
following the trail of the dark entity like a predator tracking blood.
Her eyes burned with rage.
"No one," she growled as she ran,
"touches innocent blood in my presence...!!"
Her speed was beyond human.
Beyond demonic.
A streak of yellow light shot across Hollowmist streets as she narrowed in on the source—
---