I am so fucked.
It was the only thought I had in that moment.
The girl—no, the thing wearing her skin—lurched toward me, her limbs twitching and jerking as if being moved by strings.
Her neck bent at an odd angle, her jaw unhinging with a wet crack to reveal a fresh set of fangs.
Shorter than the vampire's. Not yet fully formed.
But sharp enough to kill.
She let out a shriek—a mangled mixture of a scream and a gurgle—that echoed through the alley like nails scraping on glass.
And then she charged.
I barely managed to sidestep, my newly sharpened agility kicking in at the last second.
She crashed into the brick wall behind me, headfirst, but didn't stop.
She clawed at the air, spun, and lunged again like a rabid animal.
Her nails slashed across my cheek, leaving a trail of blood.
Pain flared, but I didn't let it slow me.
I ducked under her next swing and created distance. My thoughts raced.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
I didn't want to kill her. Not yet. There was still a chance—right?
But no. Look at her. There was no trace of the girl she once was. Her eyes were vacant.
Her mind? Gone. Hollowed out. Replaced by raw hunger.
This isn't possession. It's mutation.
That vampire didn't just bite her. He turned her into something broken—half-formed.
An incomplete thrall.
A failed transformation.
And now, her instincts were driving her to feed.
On me.
I gritted my teeth and raised the sword—my grip still awkward, but better than before.
I positioned myself at an angle, using the narrow alley walls to limit her movements.
She was faster than a human, sure, but her coordination was all over the place. Sloppy. Wild.
I can use that.
She lunged again. I rolled aside and slashed—not to kill, but to wound.
The blade scraped her arm, and black blood sprayed out. She didn't even flinch.
No pain response.
No pain. No reason. Just hunger.
I needed to make a decision.
Restrain her? Impractical. I had one working hand, no rope, and she was stronger than she looked. I'd bleed out trying.
Call for help? No one was coming.
So that left only one option.
I tightened my grip on the sword.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "But you're already gone."
And that's when I let go of hesitation.
She rushed at me again, but this time I didn't dodge.
I took my stance, with the sword in one hand.
She came at me like a wild dog, mouth open, shrieking.
My blade started to move—just a clean cut, straight through the abdomen.
But then—
"Stop."
The word wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
It carried power.
Real power.
Suddenly, I couldn't move.
The sword halted mid-swing. My arms locked in place. My legs froze.
And not just me.
Her too.
The girl—no, the thrall—jerked violently mid-leap and then dropped straight to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Her limbs were bound by the same invisible force I felt on my own skin.
Chains.
Not physical ones.
These were glowing, ethereal, made of translucent blue mana—cold, humming, ancient. They coiled around me, binding me in place, tight but gentle. They didn't hurt. But they demanded stillness. Obedience.
A few heartbeats later, someone stepped into view.
She moved like moonlight—graceful, controlled, untouchable.
Alicia Rowan.
The Student Council President.
I had seen her before, once, during orientation. She looked even more surreal in the pale light of the alley, with her white gloves and long jet-black hair glowing faintly in the dark.
Behind her stood four others.
First-years. I recognized two of them from my class.
One held a staff crackling with suppressed lightning. Another, a boy with sharp glasses, had a mana tablet in his hand, recording everything.
They were watching me. Closely.
Alicia's gaze swept the scene, then landed on the girl.
The thrall twitched once more, then went limp.
She was still alive—barely—but no longer a threat.
With a flick of her finger, Alicia released the chains binding me. My limbs dropped like dead weight. I barely managed to stay on my feet.
My sword clattered to the ground.
The relief was short-lived. My head felt light. My knees buckled.
Blood was still trickling from the cut on my cheek and somewhere on my ribs—I hadn't even noticed when that happened.
The adrenaline was gone.
All that remained was pain.
Exhaustion.
And a strange, almost stupid sense of relief.
I looked at Alicia. She said nothing. Just stared at me like she was trying to read through my very soul.
And then everything around me spun.
My body gave out.
I collapsed to my knees.
And right before everything went black, one last thought echoed through my mind:
Maybe... not killing her was the right decision after all.
****************
Author's Note :
Please do comment on the story, in the comments section below.
***************