Chapter One

I always felt like my life wasn't worth much; every day was the same mundane routine. At
least, that was how I felt, especially when you have no one to share a life with. As a child, I
became an orphan after losing my parents, and then a few years later, I lost my guardian, a
dear friend of my parents named Arther. Before his passing, Arther and I would move from
state to state once or twice a year. He never explained why we ever left any of those
locations, as well as the story behind the death of my parents. Despite lacking answers to
most of my questions, I was fond of Arther. The man cared for me for years, honoring my
parents' wishes and caring for me as he would one of his children. He had a family of his
own until they went missing.

Arther barely spoke about them, but whenever he did, tears would begin to ll his eyes. I
knew that kind of sadness and pain that comes from losing people who you love ercely.
This type of pain was and still is almost impossible to handle. It leaves a mark on you, a
scar, on the soul, piercing your heart with every breath. The memories are a gift but can
feel like a curse at times when you give the loss time to marinate, to let it seep into your
pores and run through your veins like cool drips of saline given at hospitals. Losing family
was an experience he and I could relate to; no matter how much time passed without ever
bringing up the subject, there was this comfortability of being around someone who felt
and knew what it was like to be deprived of a familial presence.

In my mind, this brought us together, made us stronger when we were together, and even
gave me a sense of normalcy. It was a simple word for most to comprehend, but it came
with a hefty price for people like me and Arther. I was hungry, starving for a life with two
parents and an uncle who would visit from time to time with his family. We all get together
on holidays and take those cheesy pictures to place on Holiday Cards that we could send to
loved ones and laugh about how silly we look in our ugly sweaters. These moments and
fond memories are a pity and a real shame that I would never experience in this life.

Desperation is a word I was too familiar with, and I formed such a close bond that I rarely
recognized a world without it. I wanted so much I didn't have, and being sent to live and
get my education from the Orphanage didn't help much. I made friends at St. Joseph's, but
only Vincent; I always called him Tre and tried to keep in touch after I ran away. Kidnapped
would be a better word for it. Vincent was the one who ended up tracking me down and
saving me from whatever those men wanted to do to me. In fact, I haven't asked or even
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mentioned how he found me at the laboratory, especially in such a remote location,
somewhere out in the boonies. I could only remember the men were wearing facemasks like
a doctor would wear; I felt the slightly spongey tip of a marker, maybe a Sharpie and a
woman was standing in the left corner by the somewhat open translucent curtains. The
light above me was so bright I was blinded, and when I closed my eyes, all I could hear was
the sound of my pulse getting stronger and stronger.

I struggled to recollect everything I was enduring at that moment, and my senses were
becoming dull as time passed. I heard some mu led noises, which I can assume were the
voices of both men and the woman taking notes. At some point, it sounded like there was a
disagreement, and their voices grew louder and louder, and then suddenly, the room went
quiet. I heard heels strolling towards the left corner and listened to the metal rings sliding
across the pole holding up the curtain. After a few minutes or maybe hours, the silence was
shattered by the sound of the dentist's device when shaving the inside of a tooth when
placing a cavity or lling. This immediately brought up some PTSD, which was peacefully
resting in the deep recesses of my mind, a subconscious memory I would've liked to keep
that way. Unfortunately, now, but fortunately, back when this was all happening, I lost
consciousness, pitch black, surrounded by nothingness.

I woke up dazed and confused with a massive headache, migraine to be precise. At the
time, I had been experiencing migraines again, but this time, as each day passed, they got
worse and worse. Looking back now, even though it still doesn't make sense to me, I was
told the longer I neglected the powers within, the harder my life would become… my
mortal self. It was interesting how the whole world knew who I was, but I never had the
slightest clue. My entire life was consumed by loss, lled with a coldness only tundras
would be consistent enough to brew. My former life was a blend of asteroid impacts and
hollow promises, which added to the craters crashing and making an impact with love
against my own heart and what it needed, what it yearned for. Once I tell you the whole
story, myth, or what now is considered to some as a legend, you may come to realize why
this tale has landed in your hands and what this legacy means for the rest of the world, but
more importantly, what I left for you.

Chapter Two

Today is May 30th, 2024. The anniversary of my father and mother's death was the exact
day I lost my entire world, and a few years later, my uncle would pass on the same day. A
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few hours ago, Tre found me and rescued me from the laboratory. He was suspiciously quiet
since he did not mention how he knew my location and how he could get me out of there
and somehow not be detected by either the doctor or the emotionless, possibly mute lady
with the clipboard. I have many questions, but Tre wouldn't even look at me; he stared
blankly at the ground. The kid seemed like his whole world had fallen apart, and from this
moment forward, nothing could change the speed or trajectory of what would come to
pass. The silence is too loud, and the longer I sit on the curb next to a sidewalk lled with
trash, the more time I have to keep asking questions while receiving zero answers.

I wasn't in the best condition, but I stumbled my way onto the road and managed to stay
on my feet while trying to nd the North Star to lead me to some town or a restaurant at
least; my stomach is growling, and the hunger pains would not subside until I got a
something with calories in me. A cheeseburger with fries or a cheese pizza with ranch
dressing as the dipping sauce, and I'm now regretting the last handful of minutes
daydreaming about demolishing the rst cheeseburger I get my hands on. A few more
steps, I have to keep telling myself, a few more steps, one foot at a time. All I can do is
close my eyes and continue moving forward despite the pain, lack of company, and a simple
conversation; any conversation would be Magni que.

At this point, I have been walking for an hour and probably went a few miles north,
actually south… I now realize I don't know where I am going. I need to slow down,
backtrack, and nd Tre. He's probably still sitting down, counting how many cracks there
are in between the asphalt. I have to head back, reluctant, but he saved my life, so I do a
180 and begin dragging my feet, eventually making my way back to Tre. As soon as I was
an earshot away, I immediately heard footsteps approaching me, so I stop for a moment to
really get a good listen… "Tre!" There was no dialogue, no response, but the footsteps
continue moving towards my end of the road. "Tre! Is that you? I really need you to
respond now…"

Suddenly, the footsteps slowed down until I could barely hear them moving in any
direction. Don't get me wrong, every cell in my body screams for me to run, but this is Tre.
Despite my lack of answers and the secrecy behind the absolute mindfuck of a situation, I
take one step forward, then another. As I walk up the road, the fear and uncertainty wash
away; before I know it, I see Tre. He's still sitting in the same spot, on the sidewalk's curb,
with one light hanging over him. "Tre? What's going on? You haven't said a word and
continue sitting here silently." Tre didn't move a muscle.
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"Look, man, I gotta be honest with you. I'm scared… I was taken, placed in a lab, and heard
noises I would rather forget; then you showed up. You saved my life, and I am eternally
grateful, but I need you to say something. I need you to help keep me from freaking out
before I have a complete meltdown." Tre took a few moments and nally stood up and
walked my way. He placed his hands on my shoulders and then took a deep breath. "I
couldn't—I mean, I didn't want you to see me like this, and besides, I wanted to give you
some time before both of our worlds completely change." I close my eyes and take a breath
in slowly, then exhale. "What's going on, Tre? I may not be ready—actually, I know I'm not
ready—whatever may come next, we are in it together." Tre took time to muster his
remaining strength and patience about the situation, then spoke without pause.

"Abel… I'm far from Human. My people, or what mortals would call "kind" are known as
The Lycan, but technically, I'm a halfblood. My mother was human/mortal, but my father
was a mix between Lycan and Aldric. Neither Lycans nor Aldrics will accept me into their
clan… the mortal world is relatively the same but much more accommodating than my
realm. I'm the only one of my kind, so I thought. There are legends told to this day by the
ancients about such a creature. A creature who would bring about the end of days for all
realms, including this one. I—I have lived a life of shame, and after my mother passed, I had
no one to protect me anymore, just like you. I had no idea why we ever became friends,
maybe because of the devasting losses we've experienced, but it's more apparent than ever
before… Our fates have intertwined, and the Gods have led us to each other. We—"I had to
interrupt him so my mind could process all of the information Tre sent me. "W-Wait, so you
are telling me and let me know if I'm o here… Werewolves and Vampires are real. You are
a third Lycan, a third Aldric, and Human or mortal, as your "kind" calls us. Am I hitting all
the right notes here?" Tre nodded his head in agreement. "Okay, wow…" My only response
was to begin pacing back and forth, stroking my stubble or lack of one, hoping this would
help trigger something to make this all make sense.

Chapter Three

I can't believe what I'm hearing right now; there are no words. I want to think Tre's a liar
who made up this story to protect himself from whatever happened back at that creepy
place, back at that lab where I thought my days were over. The worst part is that Tre
wasn't a liar. In the past couple of years, we grew to know each other well. Other than his
questionable taste for foods like fries dipped in mayo mixed with Frank's Red Hot Sauce or
the occasional order of fried pickles—absolutely gross—our bond was always strong. I'd like
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 to believe stronger than most as if we were brothers in a past life or some form of history
together, maybe even ancient history.

"Abel, what questions do you have for me? We are safe now, so I can answer whatever you
throw at me. This entire week has been insane, one I'd like to forget. It's like walking into a
mental institution and admitting yourself to a lovely stay in a white bedroom with four
aesthetically pleasing white walls to stare at for the next 72 hours." I chuckled at his
analogy. "You paint an image that actually sounds more normal and quite appealing
compared to our conversation," Tre smirked, but it faded just as quickly as it came.

"Okay, I mean… why am I here? What do I have to do with any of this? Lastly, why was I so
important to kidnap?" Tre lowered his head, taking much longer to answer than I'd like. "I
never thought the day would ever come, much less did I think there was someone out there
like me… possibly more valuable than someone like me…" Tre shook his head as if to shake
o the overwhelming distaste for whatever thoughts continued to fester. "I-I have no idea
what you are saying… I-I'm no one special; I never was and never will be. My whole life has
been a series of tragedies, a series of several unfortunate events. You can't t—". Tre cut me
o ; his hands shaking, he clenched his hand, and it turned into a st; he was beginning to
lose his patience.

"Abel, people like us… beasts like us will always have a tragic tale; we will only live with
uncertainty and fear for the rest of our lives. However long that may be, there is no time
for us to be any less than what we are now. Trust me, I have been there! Questioning every
moment of my existence and what kind of Gods what kind of twisted minds could bring
such a brutal fate to anyone… let alone someone with no one to lean on or receive any
answers for the millions of questions I've asked over the years. It is not fair, but life has
never been fair. Now that we are together, all we can do is survive and stick to what we
know is true, not what we'd like to be true. I—I'm so sorry this is happening to you. T-There
is only one question we can ask ourselves: Do I want to live or die? And this is a question
only you can answer; no external force can change or make this decision for you." We stand
in silence for a few minutes, then I look up at Tre and pitch him pretty hard, then pinch
myself for further con rmation; this is not a horrible nightmare but my reality.

On cue, this is where my mind wants to check out permanently. What can I say? Zero
answers can quench this thirst for knowledge I cannot attain tonight. At the moment, I
want to lay in a bed, get under the covers, and then curl up into a ball, praying this all goes
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away in the morning. "I hear you, Tre… there is nothing more to be said, and I'm
exhausted. We need to nd a nice place to sleep for the night. I don't care where we have
to go. I will walk for however long it will take to get to a hotel or motel. We both need the
rest." Tre nods his head and changes the conversation. "Alright, on my way here, I don't
remember passing any motels, but I saw an RV Campground, which usually has some cabins
available for a few nights to a week. Maybe we can get lucky and convince the manager or
the owner to let us stay for the night. A campground is much more discreet than a motel or
hotel. Most of the time, families or retirees head over during the summer. Sound like a
plan?" I nod, and we begin going towards the Campground on the neverending,
frightening, pitch-black road to end this brutal night.

We arrive at Dale & Tina's RV Campground. The slogan underneath says We Treat Our Guests
As Familly with lifesize cutouts of who I can safely assume are good ole Dale & Tina. In the
daylight, I'm sure this was cute for families and other guests driving through the entrance,
but at this hour, I swear, those cutouts had the Mona Liza e ect. The eyes of Dale & Tina
seem to follow us as we head towards the front O ice. I keep having this nagging thought
Tre and I are being watched. I am so uncomfortable; I already want to turn around and take
our chances sleeping in the woods; no amount of comfort is worth waking up in the middle
of the night with Dale & Tina's cutout staring at me with that smile through one of the
windows in the cabin.

As I keep looking over my shoulder, Tre and I reach the O ice and start walking up the old
and creaky steps, which is the cherry on top, or as they say in French, piece de resistance.
Tre opens the door, and we both enter. The smell of the damp carpet, stinky feet, and low
lighting make it hard to see the appeal of this place. At the front desk, we see no one, not a
single person. The building seems abandoned; the dead mice in the corner might be the last
sign of life this O ice has seen since Y2K. We cautiously approach the counter, ensuring the
eyes in the back of our heads stay alert and ready to ee at any moment. I ask Tre if he can
watch my back as I take a quick tour through the Employee's Only O ice.

"I am going in the back to hopefully nd someone or a set of keys to a cabin. Are you good
here?" Tre is looking as nervous as I feel on the inside right now. "Yeaahh, let's get this
over with… nothing about this place feels right. I can't put my nger on it, but Dale &
Tina's lifesize cutout… enough said." Tre and I would not have entertained staying here in
another situation, but we have no choice. I leap over the counter, hoping it doesn't come
crashing down, getting a face full of deteriorating carpet carcass and whatever that stain
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 had been in its previous life. I make it to the door down the hallway and turn the knob,
thankfully, it is unlocked, but as I push the door, I meet an unmovable object. "Tre, I need
you for a moment; something is blocking the doorway, and I can't move it on my own; it's
not budging anymore than it was a couple of minutes ago." He leaps over the counter and
approaches me; we both place our right shoulders on the door and then push. I look at Tre,
and we both have the same expression of fear, but he must have read my mind because he
takes the lead.

Chapter Four

We walk through the doorway, and surprisingly enough, the room is pristine. Compared to
the rest of the O ice, this area is considered heaven, and out there is hell. "I'm not sure
why it's so clean and alive in this room, but the entrance is the exact opposite. Besides the
couch blocking the door and this lone set of keys hanging on one of the pegs on the wall, I
see nothing else useful to us." Tre shrugs his shoulders and grabs the keys, speeding back
towards the entrance. I did not hesitate to follow and shut the door behind us. "Yo, dude!
Wait up; I don't want to be the latest victim of Dale & Tina's RV Campground, where "We
Treat Our Guests As Family."

I nally reach the entrance to head out and see Tre standing out front, just looking at the
sky. "Hey man, you ready to go? We should get some rest before—". He lets go of the keys,
and they hit the gravel lying next to his right foot. I nudge Tre, then pick up the keys,
wondering why we aren't getting as far away from that building they call the Front O ice.
I look over at him and decide to follow suit; at rst, I can't make out whatever rattled him.
"Tre? I'm not sure what you are looking at, but we should head over to our—"Out of the
corner of my eye, a grayish-white ash illuminated my peripherals, and slowly, I turn
towards the light, then drop the keys.

I realize everything Tre explained earlier had to be 100% true… In the light, I don't have to
squint, nor do I feel any strain in my eyes or a blur in vision. All around us, the
Campground's electricity comes alive; as the light approaches us, the lightbulbs begin to
pop one by one until there is a surge of energy. The force of the shockwave throws me at
least 20 feet back into the O ice, but this time, I enter through one of the windows. I
become one with the counter, take a few minutes to get up, and then shake the glass o
my clothes. I see no sign of Tre; I rush outside and nd him unconscious with a piece of
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 wood sticking out of his left shoulder. I shake him as hard as I can, screaming at the top of
my lungs with no response.

My instincts take over, and I pick up Tre; I run as fast I can while carrying him, and as soon
as I pass the edge of the O ice building, another shockwave sends us barreling toward the
rst cabin. Fortunately, Tre rolls underneath the cabin and out of sight, possibly away
from any more danger. I catapult into a few electrical boxes; I sit up, but this time, I don't
recover fast enough, and a wave of pain goes shooting through my right arm, then my
shoulder. I reach over with my left arm; rst, I feel some rod, and this is when I feel the
shock of electricity run through my body. Strange enough, I don't feel weaker or in pain…
just di erent.

I hear Tre groaning under the cabin, and then, out of nowhere, someone pushes the rod
deeper into my shoulder and proceeds to rip the rod out from my arm. I have no clue what
this thing is, but it begins to descend and lands on the ground. The size of this thing has to
be around 8 feet tall with a muscular build that would make Arnold Schwarzenegger look
miniscule in comparison, and I'm talking about his bodybuilding era. I can o er zero
references to describe an image of this magnitude because crossing paths with a creature
so terrifying would scar you for life. I am talking about a type of trauma that even David
Goggins couldn't overcome.

This creature went from standing on two limbs to transitioning to four, crunching the
gravel underneath its four paws. On its back, I see two golden spears with a black glossy
tip, but one is still painted with blood, which I can safely assume is mine. As it slowly
creeps toward Tre, another burst of energy runs through my body. I start seeing a light
purple aura around my hands, with sparks crackling on my ngertips as they zip from one
nger to the next, forming a cross over each palm. I stay pinned to the electrical boxes,
grabbing the spear with my left hand and pulling.

As the pain becomes more excruciating, I continue tearing my shoulder apart inch by inch
until the spear is entirely out now. At this point, the creature is a few yards away from Tre;
at any minute, it would have him in its grasp, and whatever follows may take both of our
lives. I manage to stand on my two feet, stumbling forward, lopsided, leaning to the right
with blood running from my shoulder to my arm, trickling down my hand. I turn and bend
over to pick up the spear; I genuinely believe my human strength is not enough to hold and
then carry.
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 Now, my heart drops; I hear Tre struggle. I hope the small opening he ew into would be
enough to stop the creature, but then there is the sound of claws tearing through a lattice
fence that shelters him. As the splinters y my way, I move closer and closer, dragging the
spear behind me. The weight of it seems to be getting heavier and heavier with each step. I
feel the warm drops of blood continuing to run one by one; my shoe begins to soak, then
collect each drop, seeping into the tan cotton material. The rest make a trail; when the
police arrive, they can track us down solely by following the red path tethered to my fading
life source.

The creature crawls through what used to be a fence, then grabs Tre by the leg, kicking and
grunting; he yells, "Get o me!!". I can barely get a word out, so instead, I use the last of
my energy to lift the spear with both hands. The entire right side of my body burns, and I
feel my muscles tearing apart, one ber at a time. Inhale… Exhale, Inhale… Exhale, each
breath feels like it'll probably be my last. Despite the previous several hours of
bewilderment and the fantastical nightmare of a situation, I can bet my life on one truth:
Tre saved my life. The rest of the tale is a subject for another time, but at this moment, his
sacri ce and pure sel essness remind me of who and what Arther was. The familial
presence is protective and unconditional love for someone you care for or can't live
without.

Clarity washes over me; I understand what I must do. "Hey! Ugly! My goodness, you smell
worse than the Front O ice. I'm unsure if I should be impressed or repulsed, maybe both.
Either way, You left your spear, and apart from the pain, you've really pissed me o . Why
don't you come my way so we can handle this as a couple of paci sts would." The creature
had Tre in his hands, ready to rip him to shreds, but at that moment, whatever I said struck
a chord, and in the worst way possible, he chucks Tre aside. It begins to move towards me
with ease; I can hear his paws crunching on top of the gravel, making the tiny rocks shift
with every step. "You must be stupid or have a death wish. I'm assuming both." The
creature speaks; it sounds male; his voice is raspy and lled with darkness, an unsettling
and cringe-worthy tone that makes my entire body shiver from head to toe.

"I know you… Sons of Electi, the chosen. Your existence is blasphemous! Every breath you
take insults those who've come before you. I told Master he's been too generous, but he
kept saying, the timing isn't right; we need them alive just a bit longer." "Your master
sounds quite reasonable with his whole plan in keeping us alive," I said. Hoping the creature
might come to his senses, which he didn't. "Foolish boy! You know nothing. We are the
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ones who took everything away from you and everyone you loved. We were the force
behind those accidents that claimed the lives of your parents and uncle. These tragedies
were not coincidental; they were manufactured and executed perfectly. I led all three
expeditions, and it was a pleasure to watch them each fade away. I enjoyed every second,
especially knowing the despair that would encapsulate your entire life from that moment
onward." "You Freak!! You stupid beast!! Come over here so we can end this. It will either
be you or me digging a grave for the other; quit wasting my time so I can rearrange your
face. Trust me, you'll look a lot prettier afterward." The creature snarled, exing its upper
body, making himself look two times the size he just was.

"Is that a threat?" He smiles, amused by my blind courage and willful ignorance of what
will happen next. His back two paws dig into the gravel, and his form reminded me of one
of those Olympic sprinters, waiting for the sound of a gunshot to set them free. "Enough," I
said. I dig my shoes into the gravel and hold up the top half of the spear at a 45-degree
angle. Praying to the Gods, any god willing to listen, asking them to have mercy on my soul
and help save and protect Tre after this deathmatch is over. The creature and I lock eyes,
waiting for the other to make a move, surrendering themselves to the interwoven strings
of fate. "Savor those last few breaths, Son of Electi. My name is Serverus, Son of the
Unclaimed and the right hand of King Plaga" In a dash, almost at the speed of light, the
creature tears through the air, lunging at me with all its might. The last thought I have
before closing my eyes is, "I'm so dead.”

Author: III
All Rights Reserved (2024)
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