Felix stood, stunned, for some time, his brain racing at speeds he never knew possible.

  “She feels the same way…”

  In a dangerously emotional state, he punched a nearby tree, cleanly uprooting it and causing it to collapse against its brethren behind it, noisily.

  “And I never told her I shared the feeling.”

  Some crows flew up from the trees, disturbed by the presence of their supernatural visitor.

  Felix forced himself to snap out of it. He realized he had already made a categorically foolish and emotionally charged decision within his first few moments in the human world, the sound of his lashing out likely audible for at least a few miles.

  He gazed down at the pendant around his neck; thankfully, it was still a pure blue, nothing having triggered its reaction for killing intent. He began moving through the trees in a light, but silent, sprint.

  Felix wanted to get out from under the forest's concealment. While vampiric senses were sharp, he had learned at Nightshear that, historically, both other monsterkin and humans could get around them with enough speed or dexterity. The pendant also had a range of just a few hundred feet, a distance which could be covered very fast if not careful.

  “I need to start searching, maybe if I’m lucky, I might have started close to the gateway.”

  Indeed, it wasn’t unheard of for the most fortunate of monsterkin to enter the human world and be only a stone's throw from the gateway.

  Leprechauns, the lucky bastards, pretty much had a monopoly on this, their sole innate special power being impossible luck. Still, a few other individuals from different species had managed it over the centuries, returning within just the first couple of days.

  “If I get there, maybe I should wait for her.”

  Felix gnashed his teeth. This was why he didn’t want to do this to her, what she had done to him. There was going to be no way he could get those three words out of his head…

  “I love you.”

  Yet he also wished he had the same courage she did, leaving behind their home with no regrets or words left unsaid. Now, the chances of him seeing Emily or even Leo ever again were slim at best.

  He came to a stop. A large cliff face blocked the direction he had been heading, seeming to split the forest into two halves. In the corner of his eye, he noticed a mossy cave entrance, with a clean flow of air moving from one side to the other.

  He reasoned that it would be quicker to go through the cave than to turn around or scale the sheer cliff.

  The cave was pitch-black, but vampires had long since evolved to see perfectly even in the most lightless environments. As he made his way through the mostly hollow cavern, his mind was finally firmly in strategy mode.

  Every species of monsterkin had a shared ability; the more nights that had passed in the human world during The Trek, the greater their instinctual draw to the gateway back to Hallow Haven would be.

  The greatest vampire scholars had come to a solid conclusion: the reason the phenomenon of The Trek occurred in the first place was an inherent “frequency” in the bodies of 18-year-old monsterkin.

  This frequency would sync with the human world and cause them to be unwittingly transported there at the specific time it was highest. Immediately following this, it would turn itself down to practically nothing before reaching another peak at the end of the month.

  Ultimately, while they would start clueless about its location, over time, they would have a vague sense of direction, finally concluding with knowledge of its precise coordinates just before the deadline was up.

  Tragically, while the frequency was able to guide their senses toward the portal, unlike the initial wave that snatched them so cruelly from Hallow Haven, the one on the 31st night was just short of the same power, meaning there was no automatic transportation homeward.

  Once the gateway closes, that was it, you’d be left completely stranded in a world that wants you dead. By the time it would open again a year later, the frequency would be gone from the body, unable to maintain itself in creatures 19 years or older.

  According to the ones that tried to bring back survivors, who by a miracle survived a year or more in this forsaken place, contact with the gateway vaporized and killed anyone that entered it without this theoretical frequency.

  That was how dire the situation was: only one chance, no more. Once the opportunity was gone, only a doomed fate could await.

  Felix had been lost in thought for too long. Once he had entered an open alcove on the opposite end of the cave, the moon’s light shining down once again, a blur of motion whizzed by him, and a gash opened in his thigh!

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  He collapsed to a knee, clutching the wound as it freely squirted blood for a few seconds before beginning to heal. He glanced up to see a woman now standing in front of him.

  Her snowy white hair was a short pixie cut; a simple gold earring hung from her left ear; an unzipped bomber jacket with fur on the hood framed a crop top that left her six-pack abs exposed.

  More stark than that, though, were the fingernails on her right hand; they had extended several inches and were dripping blood, his blood. It was unmistakable from what he learned at the academy, she was a werewolf.

  She opened her mouth to speak, teeth pointed and sharp.

  “Guess you vamps aren’t so special after all, been stalking you since just before this cave and you weren’t the wiser.”

  Felix glanced down at the pendant; it was still a perfect blue.

  “How did you…?” The werewolf’s eyes followed his.

  “One of those vamp trinkets, huh? It’s why from what was taught at the academy I could never bring myself to respect you losers even a little, relying so much on toys rather than the natural gifts you were born with.”

  She cracked her neck side to side.

  “I eat privileged babies like you for a light snack.” She growled out towards him.

  The reason why vampires and werewolves had such a long-standing enmity was due to a conflict that occurred 500 years ago.

  “The War for Alco” a long conflict started when a vampire noble poisoned one of the chieftains of the werewolf clan over a land dispute.

  What followed was a series of battles so vicious and wide-reaching that the mortality toll put both species in a population bind when combined with the annual Trek. Drastic action was required to ensure something like this never happened again.

  Thus did the elders of all sapient Monsterkin unite to cast a powerful spell, one that divided the species into their own separate perception of Hallow Haven where they could no longer interact with one another.

  With everyone sharing the same world once more for The Trek, historic tensions had a tendency to flare up quite often, especially considering their age meant only the most gruesome of stories passed down got relayed to them, without a member of said race present to protest otherwise.

  Felix forced himself back to his feet, wound fully sealed once more.

  “You had the element of surprise, you could’ve gone for my head or-” her snicker cut him off.

  “I actually have some pride; cutting down anyone defenceless never sat right with me, no matter who or what they may be.”

  Her yellow pupils then began to glow.

  “I prefer doing it from the front.”

  With that, she charged at him, clawed fingernails rapidly approaching!

  She went for his side, a fast swipe of her talons he couldn’t react to! Luckily, the nethermorphic fabric of his coat shielded him, her claws flowing off him harmlessly like butter on a pan.

  He retaliated during her surprise, drawing the Fang and bringing it downwards toward her neck in one fluid motion!

  It connected hard…only for him to be struck by a revelation as it halted at the collar of her bomber jacket. It too was made out of Nethermorphic Fabric.

  It was her turn to counter now as she bit into the exposed wrist of Felix’s sword arm, sharp teeth cutting to the bone, his pained groan was barely out before she yanked him forward, angled to her side. Her elbow came down like a guillotine upon his neck!

  Knocked loopy, the stone of the floor was fast approaching his hazed vision, only to be stopped inches from his face.

  The Werewolf had caught the back of his overcoat and completely reversed the momentum, tossing him into the cave wall, pebbles and dust coming free from it and the ceiling due to the impact, The Fang falling loose from his injured arm and clanking to the floor.

  As he struggled to raise his face upward, a fist collided hard to his cheek brutally causing his head to snap sideways!

  Finishing things off, she speared her claws straight through his unprotected left lumbar region and let him slowly slide to floor a bloody mess.

  He spit blood from his mouth, the pain he was in immense.

  “Forgot to introduce myself, the name is Dinah.”

  She crouched in front of him, faces mere inches apart as she wiped the ichor now coating her teeth away from the bite she’d taken out of his wrist.

  “That was fucking pathetic, we’re what? Thirty minutes into the Trek? If I was more bloodthirsty or used my full transformation you’d be mincemeat buddy.”

  She patted his head in mock kindness.

  “Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood, just wanted to see what my competition looked like in this world, can’t say it was a great first impression.”

  He could only wince in response. So that was why the pendant didn’t glow red, she never intended to outright kill him in the first place.

  She reached a single sharpened digit forward and plucked the pendant from around his neck, clasping it between her index and thumb.

  “I’ll take this as a little souvenir, maybe it’ll motivate you to get stronger and try for a rematch.”

  She slipped the item gifted from his mother into her side pocket casually, uncaring of any emotional attachment he might have.

  “You shits heal fast though, gotta make sure I get a good head start so you don’t chase me for the next few days.”

  With that she stood up straight once more and stomped on his right leg with great force at an awkward angle.

  Crack! The sound of his leg bone snapping echoed in the hollow cave.

  “Ah…ah…f-fuck…” he grimaced out, blood still choking his throat.

  Dinah turned and walked away from him.

  “Word of advice, one wrong step is all it takes. One wrong step and you’re a carcass for the plants and animals to feed on, nothing more.”

  With that she left him alone in the cave, battered worse than he’d been his entire life.