CHAPTER 5 — THE FIRST HUNT & THE NIGHT THAT WOULDN'T STOP BREATHING
I wasn't the type to panic easily.
Growing up teaches you how to swallow fear. How to act normal when you're breaking inside. How to carry on even when you feel like the world is pressing a knee on your chest.
But that night…
nothing in my life prepared me for it.
Because it wasn't fear of the dark.
It wasn't fear of monsters.
It wasn't fear of what I didn't understand.
It was fear of something so specific
that my body reacted before I understood the reason.
A pressure in the air.
A shift too subtle for words.
The way animals go silent before an earthquake.
The voice inside me was gone now—
like it used its last remaining strength just to warn me.
"Tonight… they will find you first."
I kept hearing it.
The clock on my wall ticked loudly.
Too loudly.
Like each second wanted to shove itself into my ears.
I checked the door three times.
Locked.
Bolted.
Chained.
I checked the windows.
Closed.
Secured.
Then I did the stupid thing everyone does when they're scared:
I stood in the middle of the room and tried to convince myself nothing was happening.
"This is fine," I muttered.
"No one's coming. No one even knows I exist."
But the truth sat heavy behind my ribs:
Someone did know.
Someone awakened.
Someone hunting.
And if Risa could "sense" me from a block away…
then whoever was coming could probably do the same.
11:42 PM — The First Sign
It wasn't the door.
Wasn't a knock.
Wasn't footsteps.
It was the electricity.
All the lights in my apartment dimmed.
Not off — just low enough to change the colour of the room.
Warm yellow turned sickly orange.
I froze.
My first instinct was to convince myself it was a power fluctuation.
Happens all the time.
Bangladesh, right?
Voltage drops, inconsistent current — a normal thing.
But then the light brightened.
Dimmed again.
Brightened.
Like someone was breathing through the electricity.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
A low humming crawled under the walls.
Not the fridge.
Not the lights.
Not anything mechanical.
Something alive.
I stepped back until my calves hit the sofa.
"Okay," I whispered. "Okay, okay— breathe. Don't lose it."
Then—
THUD.
A single, heavy impact against my door.
Not knocking.
Not forcing it.
Just… announcing.
My blood ran cold.
I didn't move.
Then another THUD — same pace, same weight.
Almost gentle.
Like whoever was out there wasn't in a rush.
Like they already knew I wasn't going anywhere.
When Fear Turns into Instinct
My hands were shaking.
I grabbed the nearest thing — a metal water bottle.
Useless weapon, but fear doesn't use logic.
Another THUD.
This one softer, yet somehow worse.
Then a voice spoke from the other side of the door.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Soft.
Calm.
Too calm.
"Arin."
I stopped breathing.
My name.
On a stranger's tongue.
"Open the door," the voice said.
My throat closed.
The tone wasn't threatening.
But it wasn't friendly either.
It was… curious.
Like someone looking at a newly discovered animal.
I forced myself to swallow.
"What do you want?"
A small pause.
A breath.
"You woke up," the voice said.
"And that means you belong with us."
My skin crawled.
"I'm not opening the door," I said, voice trembling.
The stranger chuckled — low, almost disappointed.
"I didn't ask for your permission."
And then—
the handle moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
But I had locked it.
Bolted it.
Chained it.
The door shouldn't move.
Yet the handle turned like none of that mattered.
My heartbeat thumped against my ribs so hard it felt bruising.
"Arin," the voice murmured again, "don't make this difficult."
And then—
Everything inside me snapped.
Not in fear.
Not in panic.
In instinct.
My body moved before my brain decided to.
My breath steadied without my control.
My vision sharpened, narrowing to the door like it was the only real thing in existence.
That same pressure I felt in the alley — the moment where the world slowed — started bubbling up again.
But this time, it didn't feel wrong.
It felt like something inside me stretching awake fully, like a limb coming back to life after years of numbness.
A trembling breath escaped my lips.
"No," I whispered — but not to him.
To myself.
To the awakened thing inside me.
"Not yet… don't take over. Not yet."
The voice behind the door made a pleased humming sound.
"You feel it, don't you? The awakening. The change."
A pause.
"You can't stop it. Let it happen."
I stepped back.
Because he was right.
Something inside me was rising like a wave.
And if I let it hit me…
I wasn't sure I'd still be myself after.
The Final Warning
The door shook.
Just once.
A single push.
My locks held.
The chain stretched but stayed.
But the wood…
The wood groaned like it was trying not to snap.
Then the voice outside said something that froze every thought in my head.
"Risa should've gotten to you sooner."
My heart dropped.
He knew her.
He knew she found me.
He knew she would return.
"That girl is always late," he whispered.
"So tonight… you're mine."
My breath hitched.
He stepped back from the door.
Silence.
No more humming.
No more breathing electricity.
No more footsteps.
Just silence.
The worst kind.
Then, from behind the door, his voice came soft and almost delighted:
"Let's see what you are."
And the entire doorframe cracked.