𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕

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After the events of the previous night, everyone was a little bit tense, even now, feeling protected by the sun rays, in Chris' studio. Allison diligently tended to her father's wounds. Meanwhile, Alistair, Scott, and Isaac found themselves scattered throughout the studio, their attention riveted on the older man's account of his own encounter with the black figures.

As Chris delved into his story, his voice resonated with a mix of caution and trepidation. "Their eyes shined, but to me, it was almost ritualistic. Like they look into your soul."

"That's what they did to me." Isaac said promptly, slightly shivering at the memory.

"That's what they did to everyone." Countered Allison, looking at them.

Scott promptly corrected her, "Not everyone, they only went after the werewolves."

Raising his eyes from the floor, Alistair's voice cut off Allison's unsaid answer, "No. Lydia and John too."

"Everyone who has a connection to the supernatural." Was Chris' answer.

Chris continued, launching into a detailed account of a past encounter he had with a Yakuza boss during a gun deal, and how his father apparently wanted to test his improvising capabilities. Everything was going normally, until the sun gave way to the shadows of the night, the figures materialized from the shadows, brandishing straight swords like ninjatōs. The figures went after the Kumicho, the Yakuza boss. All his henchmen tried to get rid of them emptying their guns to no avail, none of it made any kind of damage to the figures. They slaughter every single person in their path. When they finally reached the boss, Chris explains he was some kind of supernatural creature, not sure which one, but the figures staked their swords on him and killed him.

Intriguingly, Chris mentioned a survivor from that night named Katashi, whom he had spent the previous day tracking down. However, Katashi clearly didn't want to be found, by the look of his wounds. When Scott inquired whether Katashi would remember the figures or even recognize Chris, the wounded man rose from his seat, as Allison finished patching his wounds. He made his way toward a nearby box on the table, opening it. "He'll remember this." Then, he moved the box, so they could see inside.

Within the box lay the fragmented remains of one of the figures' masks, shattered and fragmented. The sight of the broken mask piqued Alistair's curiosity, compelling him to ask the question that hung heavy in the air. "And what was behind the mask?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Chris, his gaze transfixed on the broken mask for a moment, looked up with a contemplative expression. His voice resonated with a grave tone, "Darkness. Absolute darkness."

The weight of those words settled over the group, they exchanged quick glances, revealing a shared concern and growing unease.


(...)


As Alistair arrived at the school, he saw Scott arriving in his bike in the middle of the twins, also in their bikes. The sight amused him, realizing the extent to which they were committed to gaining Scott's trust and gaining a place in his pack. Finding it cute, he chuckled to himself.

While organizing his books at his locker, Alistair overheard Scott's arrival at his nearby locker, with the twins positioned protectively behind him, as some kind of bodyguards. Intrigued, he couldn't resist the urge to approach them. He walked over, a playful smile on his lips. "Well, look at you. All guarded up like some kind of royal. I'm jealous."

In perfect synchronization, the twins turned their attention toward Alistair, but it was Scott who spoke first. "Alistair! You guys mentioned Alistair's father, right? Why don't you follow Alistair around to protect him?"

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