2. The Beast whithin

Darius's breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as he tore through the dense forest. His limbs moved with an unnatural speed, the world blurring around him, yet his mind was consumed with one thought—blood.

The hunger twisted deep inside him, gnawing at his soul, and the feeling of it was like a weight on his chest. The thirst was more than physical; it felt like something vital was missing from his very core. It was a gnawing emptiness, and the longer he ignored it, the worse it became.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was feeding.

Branches whipped past his face, and the smell of wet soil filled his nostrils, but he barely registered it. Everything had become secondary to the all-consuming urge to sink his fangs into warm flesh. Every beat of his heightened senses screamed that blood was near. His eyes flickered to every movement, every rustle, but the world around him was eerily still.

The rustling noise he had heard earlier was gone, replaced by a silence that felt unnatural. And then, far in the distance, a new scent drifted into his awareness—another creature. This one smelled different, richer, stronger than the deer. It was human. His throat clenched in anticipation.

His pace quickened.

The clearing ahead came into view, and with it, a small campfire surrounded by a handful of figures. They were gathered in a circle, talking quietly among themselves, their voices low and distant. It was a group of travelers, a few humans mixed with a couple of figures who radiated power—he could feel it in the air.

Darius hesitated, his body frozen. The humans… they were closer now. So close.

A whisper of wind carried the smell of one of them—a woman, younger than the others. Her blood was sweet, tempting. His fangs pressed against his lips as he fought the instinct to lunge.

I can't do this.

But the ache inside him worsened, as if mocking his weakness. His vision darkened at the edges, and for a moment, his mind spun, the overwhelming hunger drowning out everything else. The Blood Sovereign—that's what the information had called him—the power surging through his veins screamed for release. He wasn't just a vampire; he was something far more dangerous, far more deadly.

"Focus, Darius," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to clear the fog clouding his thoughts.

But his mind was already lost in the pull of the blood, and the scent of it drove him forward.

He stepped closer, instinctively crouching low behind a tree, his eyes never leaving the woman sitting near the fire. The others were distracted, their laughter light, but she—her gaze was distant, thoughtful. She didn't notice him, not yet.

The intensity of his hunger flared again, sharper, almost painful. He had to do this. He needed to feed. He needed to survive.

Without thinking, his body moved on its own.

But before he could spring forward, a hand shot out, gripping his arm with terrifying strength. He spun, startled, his fangs flashing as he instinctively prepared for a fight.

The figure that stood before him was not human. A man—tall, dark, with a cloak that seemed to shift with shadows. His eyes glowed with an eerie yellow light, a predator's gaze that met Darius's with quiet intensity.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man said, his voice deep and calm, like a storm that hadn't yet broken.

Darius froze, the words of warning echoing in his ears. He snarled, trying to pull away, but the grip on his arm only tightened. The man's presence was overwhelming, like a wall Darius could not breach.

"You're not the only one who feels the hunger, little vampire," the man continued, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "But you've got to learn restraint… or you'll be nothing more than a beast."

Darius's eyes narrowed, struggling to maintain his composure. "Who are you?" he growled, the growl deep and primal, a sound that vibrated in his chest.

The man's grin widened. "Someone who's been where you are. Someone who can help you."

The words hit Darius like a jolt of electricity. Help? The hunger was too much to bear, and yet… something about this man was different. He wasn't afraid. There was no fear in his eyes, only understanding.

Darius could feel it—the cold, ancient power radiating from the stranger. It was a presence he couldn't ignore.

"I don't need help," Darius spat, trying to pull away again, but the man's grip was unyielding.

"Not yet," the man replied. "But you will."

Suddenly, the fire crackled louder, and the woman Darius had been watching looked up, her eyes locking with his. For a moment, everything went still.

The man chuckled softly, sensing the shift in the air. "She's not the one you want," he said quietly. "If you're smart, you'll follow me."

A flash of irritation crossed Darius's face. "I don't follow anyone."

"You will," the man said, his voice a final warning.

Before Darius could react, the man twisted his arm, pulling him back into the shadows. The woman's gaze faded from view, but the pull of her blood lingered in his senses.

"I don't have time for games," Darius muttered, but his voice held a note of uncertainty. What was this? What was this strange force guiding him away from the hunger that had consumed him just moments ago?

The man's laugh was soft but filled with a cold certainty. "You will soon enough."

Mission Update:

• Feed on a living creature to quench your thirst.

• New Task: Follow the mysterious figure.