CHAPTER ONE
THE HOODED MAN

Manhattan had changed in the months that had passed. Entire neighborhoods had been sealed off, quarantined, leaving countless people homeless, with nowhere to turn. I had come to America to study art—the one thing I truly loved from my home in London—but when the creatures first appeared, we had no idea what they were. By the time we realized, it was already too late.

I was at a party that night when a figure entered, someone we assumed was just another guest. But it wasn't a person. It was a monster—its skin pale, its tongue long as a sword. Once they bit you, it was over. There was no turning back.

Once the creatures infected you with a bite, you would slowly transform into a mindless predator, driven by an insatiable thirst for blood. I lost all my friends that night, left stranded in a foreign country with no way of returning home.

I took refuge in an old, abandoned art studio, venturing out only during the day and staying as silent as possible at night—never even daring to light a candle—so that my presence wouldn't be detected by those creatures.

But tonight, I had no choice. I was running low on water. The sky was dark, the stars scattered across it like shards of glass, while the streetlights cast long, eerie shadows across the streets. A cold wind swept through the city, sending a chill that made the hairs on my skin rise. The wind whistled through the empty streets, carrying with it the haunting silence of the night.

The government was doing its best to contain the outbreak, but they urged us not to go out at night, warning that they couldn't always protect us from the creatures that roamed in the darkness. I knew all too well the risks of walking alone through the back streets of New York. Many people didn't believe the stories of these creatures, dismissing them as yet another government hoax meant to control the masses—unless, of course, they'd seen them firsthand.

But I knew the truth. I wanted to believe the government could protect us, but I'd seen enough horror movies that began just like this, and I had witnessed what these creatures could do to people.

I moved swiftly through the city, cutting corners wherever I could, trying to shorten my journey and get back to safety as quickly as possible. But when I reached an alley I had walked through before, a cold shiver washed over me. It felt as though someone was watching, though I was too terrified to turn around. I stood frozen, the flickering lights casting erratic shadows around me. I took a deep breath, each drop of water falling from the rooftops and hitting the ground seeming to echo in the stillness.

I listened intently for a moment, then forced myself to continue walking. But just as I rounded the corner, a screech pierced the night. My heart sank as that all-too-familiar sound reached my ears.

The screech reminded me of that night, the one that still haunted my dreams and often kept me awake, trembling in the dark. The sound of those creatures just before they attacked—it was burned into my memory.

I turned around, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and felt tears well up in my eyes. The creature was closing in, its speed terrifyingly fast. I froze for a moment, staring at it, the realization sinking in too late. Then, my body jolted into action, as if it had been shocked awake. I ran, my heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming in sharp, frantic gasps.

I dared a glance over my shoulder as I sprinted, tears streaming down my face. The creatures were so close, their breath hot on my heels. The distance between us was shrinking fast, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could stay ahead of them.

I kept running as fast as I could, my feet pounding against the pavement, until I suddenly tripped over something. For a moment, I was airborne, my body flailing before crashing violently to the ground. A sharp pain shot through my ankle as I hit the earth, and I couldn't help but cry out. I tried to stand, but the weight of my body sent searing pain through my leg. My ankle wouldn't support me, and I knew then that my fate was sealed.

If I couldn't outrun these creatures, my death was inevitable.

As I clutched my injured ankle, something heavy landed on top of me. Panic surged through me as I struggled, kicking and punching, trying to shove it off, but it was too strong, too fast. Desperation clawed at me. With one hand, I reached into my pocket while continuing to fight with the other, my fingers closing around the cool steel of a pocketknife— a gift from my grandfather when I was a child. He had been a soldier in World War II, and I hoped, in that moment, that the blade might offer me some kind of defense.

I pulled the knife from my pocket, desperately trying to defend myself, but the creature was too fast. I closed my eyes, bracing for the worst, hoping for a quick death.

But after a minute, I felt the creature's weight stop pressing down on me. It collapsed onto my body, lifeless. I opened my eyes to see a hooded figure pulling the creature's dead form away from me. With a fluid motion, the stranger drew a sword from his hip and swiftly dealt with the remaining creatures, cutting them down one by one.

I remained frozen on the ground, unable to move, as I heard footsteps approach. I kept my eyes closed, unsure of what to do or who this figure was. Then, I felt a cold touch on my neck—he was probably checking to see if I was still alive. I opened my eyes, sensing that he meant me no harm.

As I did, the streetlight cast a soft glow on his face. He resembled the creatures in some ways, yet there was a stark difference. He wasn't mindless like them; he looked human, though something about him was still unsettling.

As I looked at him, I noticed his gaze fixate on my head. Suddenly, a sharp pain surged through me, and I instinctively placed my hand on my scalp. When I pulled it away, it was covered in blood.

Without a word, he yanked the sleeve of his cloak down and pressed it firmly against my head, causing me to wince in pain.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaky as I looked up into his piercing eyes.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.

"Were you bitten?" he asked, his gaze scanning me from head to toe.

"I don't think so," I replied, glancing at my arms, hands, and legs, trying to ignore the searing pain in my ankle. My body trembled, but I held it together, not wanting to show any weakness.

End Of Chapter One