Joseph woke before the alarm.
That alone told him it was going to be one of those days.
For a few seconds, he didn't move. He lay flat on his back, eyes open, staring at the faint crack running along the ceiling of his apartment. Pale morning light filtered in through the thin curtains, painting the room in muted Gray and Gold. Somewhere outside, a vendor shouted, his voice rough and rhythmic, followed by the distant HONK
Somewhere beyond the thin walls of his apartment, Erevale was stirring—
a city built between old stone and modern steel, where narrow streets met glass towers, and history hid comfortably beneath progress.
It was the kind of city that never truly slept… only pretended to.
A city in Virelia, where legends were considered folklore, and monsters were things people no longer believed in.
Everything felt... normal.
Comfortably so.
And yet, his body felt heavier
Not pain.
Not sickness.
Just a deep, quiet fatigueclungweighed downdeliberateJoseph exhaled slowly and pushed himself upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His bare feet touched the cool floor, grounding him.
HUM
A faint smile tugged at his lips; more habit than humor.
He moved through his morning routine with practiced ease.
Bathroom.
Sink.
Mirror.
The man staring back at him looked ordinary enough—sharp but calm eyes, dark hair still slightly messy from sleep, pale skin that most people attributed to long hours indoors and too much caffeine.
No scars.
No glowing eyes.
No monstrous features.Nothing that would make anyone look twice.
He brushed his teeth carefully, as he always did. Old habit. One ingrained so deeply he didn't remember when it had started. His fangs stayed hidden, perfectly controlled, just another part of him he'd learned to keep in check.
Half human.
Half vampire.
The words had long since lost their weight.
He'd known what he was for as long as he could remember, and after a while, questioning it had simply felt pointless
He had a job. A routine. A life that fit neatly within the boundaries of normalcy.
More or less.
Even the gaps in his memory had become something he lived with.
Faces without names.
Places he couldn't recall ever visiting.
Dreams that ended just before they made sense.
Sometimes they came as flashes—brief and disjointed. A corridor made of stone. The echo of footsteps that didn't belong to him. A voice calling his name in a language he didn't recognize.
They never lingered.
Messy memories, that's all.
Everyone had them.
Joseph rinsed his mouth, wiped the mirror clean of steam, and turned away. He dressed neatly, pulling on a dark shirt and coat, movements precise and unhurried. There was comfort in routine, in the predictability of each step.
He checked his phone.
No missed calls.
No urgent messages.
For a brief, fragileHe poured himself a cup of coffee, black, no sugar. The aroma filled the small kitchen as he leaned against the counter, eyes half-lidded, letting the warmth seep into his hands. Outside, the city continued its slow awakening, unaware of him and his quiet existence within it.
Stolen story; please report.
Joseph took a sip.
Something flickered behind his eyes.
Not a thought.
Not a memory.
Just a pressure.
FaintDistant
Like something brushing against the edge of his awareness before retreating again.
He frowned slightly, then shook his head.
Too early for overthinking.
He finished his coffee, set the cup aside, and reached for his keys.
The phone rang
The sound cut throughsharpimmediateshattering
Joseph froze
Miss López's voice was crisp and professional, just as it always was—but there was something else beneath it this time. A tension
Joseph's fingers tightened
Joseph paused mid-step.
The word settled in his chest.
Ordinary.
There was a brief silence
She hesitated.
The fatigue inside him sharpenedcondensingfocusedalert
He ended the call and stood still for a moment longer, listening to the hum of the city outside. The quiet no longer felt comforting.
It felt like the calm before something else.
Something he couldn't yet name.
Joseph stepped out of the mansion building and locked the door behind him.
The city felt different the moment Joseph stepped outside.
It wasn't something he could point to—not the sky, not the buildings, not even the people moving through the streets with their usual morning impatience. Everything looked the same. Too much the same.
And yet, the air felt heavier
Colder
Joseph locked the door behind him and started down the stairs, his footsteps echoing softly in the stairwell. With each step, his senses sharpenedSCRAPEWAIL
He told himself it was nothing.
A long night.
A rough case waiting ahead.
That was all.
The drive to the hotel passed in silence. No music. No radio. Joseph preferred it that way. Silence let him think—though this morning, his thoughts refused to settle. Images drifted in and out of focus as he drove: a corridor lined with stone pillars, moonlight spilling across cold floors, voices layered over one another in a language that tugged at something deep inside him.
He tightened
The images faded, leaving only the road ahead and the dull ache beginning to press behind his temples. Not pain. Just pressure. Like standing too close to a locked door with something pushing from the other side.
He ignored it.
Downtown Erevale emerged ahead of him, its streets widening, traffic thickening as the business district woke fully. Hotels, offices, cafés places meant for routine and safety.
Places where things like this weren’t supposed to happen.
The incident hotel came into view as the sky brightened with early morning light. Yellow tape fluttered lazily around the entrance, cordoning off the building in sharp contrast to its otherwise welcoming facade. Police vehicles lined the curb, lights off but engines idling. Officers moved in small clusters, their expressions tight, voices low.
Joseph parked across the street and stepped out of the car.
The moment his boots touched the pavement, his instincts screamed
Not fear.
RecognitionHe froze
The scent hit him a heartbeat later—so faint a human would never notice it, but unmistakable to him.
Old.
Rotten.
Wrong.
It clung to the air like a stain, threading itself through the morning breeze.
Joseph's expression shifted.
The calm gentleness he wore so easily slipped away, replaced by something colderSharper
His head throbbed
Just once.
A sudden flicker—too fast to grasp. Blood soaking into fabric. Fire licking stone walls. Screams that didn't sound human.
Joseph sucked inforcing
Not now.
An officer approached, his face pale beneath the harsh daylight.
Joseph nodded once, eyes never leaving the building.
He ducked under the tape and crossed the threshold to move in the building.
The air inside the hotel was worse.
Stale. Thick. Heavy with something that did not belong.
Joseph took two steps forward and stopped.
His instincts surged
This wasn't human.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the sensations settle into something he could understand. The smell. The residue clinging to the walls. The way the silence pressed against his ears.
DEMONS.
The word didn't come from memory.
It came from instinct.
His jaw tightened
Then it vanished.
Joseph opened his eyes. His gaze hardened
The officer swallowed.
Joseph stepped forward, every sense alert now, the world narrowing to the corridor ahead.
Whatever had happened here wasn't random.
And whatever had done it hadn't chosen this place by accident.
As he moves in the building, the doors closed behind him with a soft, hollow THUD
No idea that the memories he dismissed as messy fragments were anything but accidental.
Only that something ancient had returned.
To be continued...