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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Shadows and First Blood: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

73 Kabanata

Prologue

Music that helped write this book Safehouse - Kami Kehoe x EkohTear you apart - She wants revengeThe Promise - In this momentHellfire - Late night saviorWildfire - Sub focusElectric Callboy - Everytime we touchDoomed - Phix x EkohRise from the ashes - StriaDemons - Written by WolvesChokehold - Sleep tolkenOxygen - Written by WolvesGravity - DefencesBlow- Ava under firebullet for my valentine - dont need youbullet for my valentine - venombullet for my valentine- your betrayalApashe x YMIR - Never changeBeg for me - BraekerThe trees wanted me dead.They reached with crooked fingers and tore at my jacket like some vindictive lover, snagging a seam and making me curse under my breath. Mud tried to keep me, roots tried to trip me, and the night air tasted of iron and bad decisions. Behind me, voices—human and hot with certainty—broke the dark into jagged pieces. Hunters. The kind that pray you’re only a story until they can put a crossbow bolt through your certainty.I s

Chapter 1 — Rain, Grease, and Ghosts

Rain has a way of making the world honest. It strips paint, reveals rust, and makes neon look like it's bleeding. It also makes people hurry, which is useful if you like to go unnoticed. I did my best to be a nobody.My boots sloshed through puddles as if they had opinions about my life choices. The town I passed through smelled like wet tar and a kind of tiredness that settled into the bones of buildings. Streetlights smeared halos over the sidewalks, and the drizzle stitched the world together with a million tiny needles. I pulled my jacket tighter—not because I was cold, but because fabric is the polite thing you keep between yourself and everyone who feels entitled to touch you.Somewhere along the line I learned that stories make people soft. Tell them a sad backstory and they soften toward you. Tell them nothing and they sharpen into curiosity that can be just as dangerous. I’ve toyed with both tactics. Tonight I was sticking with nothing. Silence was warmer than conversation.I

Chapter 2 The Meeting

He watched the steam curl from my mug like it was telling him a secret. “You ever play for people?” I asked, because if he was a wandering guitarist there was no better nonchalant probe.“Sometimes,” he said. “Mostly to convince bars I’m worth letting in. Or to make truckers cry softly into their napkins.” He made it sound absurdly heroic.“You make truckers cry?” I deadpanned. “That’s a niche talent.”He laughed, the sound sliding warm across the table. “Yeah. I specialize in sad choruses and bad puns. It’s a thing.”Marge refilled my coffee with an efficiency that suggested she had been practicing for the apocalypse. “You two gonna solve all the world’s heartbreaks tonight, or do you take reservations?” she asked, and I almost liked her for a second because she treated our chaos like a Tuesday special.Travis shrugged. “We’re taking names. Heartbreak’s expensive these days.”He leaned in like he was about to reveal a magic trick and then looked at me as if deciding whether I was the

Chapter 3 — Miles, Moonlight, and Missteps

The highway stretched ahead like a black ribbon slick with rain, silver threads catching the occasional flash of a passing headlight. My boots slapped puddles on the roadside shoulder, the rhythm syncing with the dull thrum of the engine in the rental Travis had “borrowed” for the night. He insisted it was easier than walking, and I didn’t argue—mostly because it was his turn to navigate.The guitar case leaned against the passenger seat, like some noble beast refusing to be caged. Travis hummed something tuneless from the front, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, and for a second I almost believed this was a normal night: wet roads, bad coffee in thermoses, and the kind of small talk that passes for companionship.“Ever think humans are loud for no reason?” I asked, staring out the window at the blurred neon signs. Rain smeared their colors like someone was trying to bleed life into a watercolor.He grinned, eyes flashing under the brim of his hood. “Yeah, they’re like fireworks

Chapter 4 — Midnight Roads and Quiet Confessions

The alarm clock on the motel nightstand was one of those cheap ones that ticked so loud it made you question every life decision. I didn’t need it. My body woke with the rhythm of the storm outside, pulse thrumming, senses keyed to a world that never slept. Travis, on the other hand, was still curled in bed, guitar tucked to his chest like a child, face relaxed in ways humans rarely allowed. I wanted to tell him how ridiculous that was—but didn’t. Let him have this fragile illusion of peace.I pulled on my jacket and slipped out into the corridor. The fluorescent lights buzzed lazily above me. The carpet smelled like mildew and old cigarette smoke, an olfactory reminder that safety was a polite fiction. The door clicked shut behind me, and I paused to listen. Nothing. Just the faint creak of the building settling, the distant drip of water. Hunters didn’t wait for alarm clocks, but neither did they appear when I expected. That made them dangerous in ways I could respect.Back in the c

Chapter 5 — Shadows on the Asphalt

The night had a way of exaggerating everything. Streetlights flickered like faulty beacons, casting long, uneven shadows that stretched and twisted across the wet asphalt. The highway felt endless, a black ribbon pulled taut between nowhere and somewhere, and we were suspended on it like unsteady ghosts.Travis drove with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping idly against the gearshift. Occasionally, he hummed, but not a melody I recognized—more like a private rhythm that only he could hear.“You ever notice how quiet the world gets right before it tries to kill you?” I asked, my voice cutting through the hum of the engine and the whispering wind.He glanced at me, a grin tugging at his lips. “Quiet’s just the lullaby before chaos shows up fashionably late.”I rolled my eyes. “Poetic. Also terrifying.”“Terrifying’s my specialty,” he replied, then added softly, “Yours too, apparently.”I let that hang. Silence felt safer than words sometimes. I traced the rain streaks sliding down

Chapter 6 — Storm and Shadows

The storm had no intention of letting us rest. Rain drummed against the car roof in a relentless rhythm, rattling windows and washing the world in silver. We’d pulled off the highway into the skeletal remains of an abandoned cabin, the kind of place humans left behind when life moved on. Its walls were warped, windows cracked, but inside, the air was warmer than the chill outside.Travis shut the engine off, and the sudden silence made my ears ache. He leaned back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel, the other brushing against mine. That small touch, accidental or deliberate, made the fine hairs on my arms stand on end.“You always tense like that?” he asked softly, eyes scanning mine, a playful lilt in his voice.I lifted an eyebrow. “Always tense? I’m not tense. I’m… alert.”He grinned, not buying it. “Alert’s code for ‘ready to bite anyone who breathes wrong.’ Admit it.”I smirked despite myself. “Maybe. But if anyone’s going to survive the night, it’ll be

Chapter 7 — The Hunter’s Shadow

The storm had passed, leaving a wet, trembling world behind. Mist curled over the highway, blurring trees into ghostly shapes. Everything looked softer, quieter—but I knew better. Danger didn’t announce itself with thunder. It slipped in the corners, behind headlights, in the rhythm of a footstep too deliberate.Travis drove with quiet intensity, hands tight on the wheel, jaw set. The playful, teasing energy from last night was gone, replaced by something sharper, like a knife sliding out of its sheath. I mirrored him, senses alert, scanning the shadows, every sound measured.“They’re close,” I said softly, voice low enough that even the wind might not carry it.He nodded, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “I saw a blur back there. Didn’t seem accidental.”“Hunters,” I confirmed. My stomach tightened—not the gnawing emptiness of hunger, but a deeper, more urgent fear. One we couldn’t just outrun this time.We passed an abandoned gas station, its neon sign buzzing weakly, casting p

Chapter 8— Collision Course

The night had teeth. Mist clung to the trees, low and suffocating, and the highway, slick with rain, reflected only fragments of light from broken lampposts. Every shadow could hide a threat. Every sound could be a hunter.Travis gripped the steering wheel with pale, knuckled hands, jaw tight. I sat beside him, senses sharpened to a razor’s edge, ears straining for any sound that didn’t belong.“They’re close,” I said softly, voice steady though my pulse betrayed me. “I can smell them in the wind.”He nodded, eyes scanning the road ahead. “I saw the other car back there. They’ve split up—classic tactic. One ahead, one behind.”“Which means we’re the prey in the center of the trap,” I muttered.“Charming,” he said, smirking despite the tension. “Really makes me feel alive.”I shot him a glance, half amused, half annoyed. “Alive’s relative. You might want to survive first.”The mist thickened, swallowing the road, and I tensed. Something moved—faint, deliberate. Hunters. They’d been pat

Chapter 9 — Blood on the Highway

Rain had returned, insistent, drumming against the car roof with a rhythm that felt like a warning. Mist rose from the asphalt in curling tendrils, masking shadows, hiding movement—but I knew better. Hunters never gave up. They didn’t tire. They were the constant heartbeat in the background of my life, and tonight, that beat was faster than usual.Travis drove with his usual reckless confidence, fingers tapping the wheel in rhythm with the storm. His pale eyes were bright under the dim glow of the dashboard, but the grin he usually wore had a sharper edge tonight. I could feel it, the tension coiling in him, the awareness that the endgame was near.“They’ve adapted,” I said, voice low, barely above the hum of the engine. “They’re learning. Each trap, each ambush… they’re getting closer.”He nodded slowly. “Closer doesn’t mean catching us. Not yet.” His hand brushed mine briefly, a light touch that made my pulse spike. “We’ve survived worse. Right?”“Right,” I echoed, though the word f

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