The Hunt Begins
The night was thick with the weight of terror, but to the people at the party, it felt like nothing had changed. The music blared louder, the laughter louder still, drowning out the unsettling feeling that clung to the edges of the room. The full moon hung above the town, casting an eerie glow over the house, its light creeping through the windows like a cold warning. But inside, no one seemed to notice the creeping sense of dread, not until it was too late.
Ningning had already started her hunt. The shift in her demeanor had been subtle, at first. It wasn’t as if she had worn her mask openly, not at the start. She still smiled, still moved among the crowd like any other partygoer. But there was a darkness behind her eyes, something predatory that Karina hadn’t seen in her before. Ningning had always been quiet, kept to herself more than anyone else. But tonight, she was different. Tonight, she was focused.
Ningning had picked her target—someone who had wandered too far into the shadows, someone who had strayed into the wrong corner of the house. She didn’t care who it was, not really. All that mattered was that they were alone, isolated, vulnerable.
She stalked the halls like a hunter closing in on its prey, her footsteps silent, calculated. Her mask was already in place, hiding her face, concealing the smile that would have looked too sweet for the blood that was about to be spilled. The house, with its dim lights and overbearing noise, was perfect.
The victim, a stranger to Karina and Winter, was stumbling toward the kitchen, drunk and unaware. Ningning moved swiftly, her body fluid as she stepped out from the shadows, her gloved hand gripping the knife with deadly precision. The victim’s scream was muffled as the first slash tore through the air, carving across their neck with a sickeningly wet sound. The blood sprayed across the walls, splattering in dark, glossy streaks.
The victim’s legs gave out as the knife sank deeper into flesh. But Ningning wasn’t finished. She was far from it. Her eyes gleamed with malice as she knelt over them, twisting the blade in and out, watching the blood pool beneath her. She was methodical, cold, as the life drained out of her victim. The victim gasped for air, but there was no saving them. Ningning had made sure of that.
She leaned in closer, her mask hovering inches from the bloodied face of her prey, her breath cold against their skin. She whispered softly, almost tenderly, "You shouldn’t have come here." And then, with a final, brutal stab, the victim was silenced. The room fell still, save for the slow drip of blood from the knife’s blade.
Ningning stood, wiping her hand across her mask, brushing the blood away with a casual flick, as if she were cleaning off a speck of dust. The predator inside of her was sated, for now. She tossed the knife onto the floor with a soft clink, then disappeared back into the shadows, blending seamlessly into the crowd once more, as if nothing had happened. No one would know. No one would suspect a thing.
Back at the party, Karina was losing herself to the music, her laughter forced, her body swaying unsteadily to the beat. She had already had too much to drink, the alcohol dulling the edges of her mind, making her feel light and floaty. Winter had kept a close eye on her all night, but it wasn’t out of concern anymore. It was more of a tether—keeping her close, making sure she didn’t stray too far. Karina’s mind was clouded, but she could still feel Winter’s presence, the way Winter was always right there, always in her line of sight.
The buzzing in Karina’s head only grew louder as she made her way toward the corner of the room. Her vision blurred, and the floor felt like it was shifting beneath her. Her stomach churned, and her legs trembled. She hadn’t realized how far she’d gone, how drunk she was, until Winter’s steady hand was suddenly on her arm.
"Karina," Winter’s voice was firm but gentle, pulling her back into focus. "Let’s get you out of here."
Karina blinked up at Winter, her gaze unfocused but somehow clear enough to meet Winter’s eyes. "I’m fine," Karina slurred, trying to pull away from Winter’s grip. "I don’t need your help."
Winter’s eyes softened, but there was an edge to her movements, an urgency in the way she guided Karina toward the stairs. "You’re not fine," Winter said, her voice carrying a tone that Karina couldn’t quite place. "Let me take you home."
The two of them made their way up the stairs, Karina stumbling with each step, her head spinning, her body swaying with the rhythm of her unsteady movements. Winter’s arm was firmly around her waist, her grip holding her steady, but Karina didn’t notice the way Winter’s touch lingered, the way Winter’s hand almost seemed to hold her rather than just support her.
Once inside the room, Winter guided Karina to the bed, helping her lie down. But Karina’s mind was hazy, her inhibitions slipping away like the alcohol that had coursed through her veins. She reached up, pulling at Winter’s shirt, the motion clumsy and slow.
"Winter," Karina whispered, her voice thick with desire. She didn’t know why, but she needed something. Needed to feel something other than the confusion, the fear that had been building up inside of her since that first attack.
Winter froze, looking down at Karina with an unreadable expression. "Karina, you’re drunk," she said, her voice quiet but firm, like a warning.
But Karina was persistent. She leaned up, her lips brushing against Winter’s. The kiss was clumsy at first, Karina’s lips fumbling against Winter’s, but as Winter hesitated, the world seemed to slow down. Karina’s hand tugged at Winter’s hair, pulling her closer, urging her to respond.
Winter’s control finally snapped. She leaned into the kiss, her mouth parting, and Karina deepened it, her hands trailing down Winter’s chest, pressing her body closer. For a moment, there was nothing but the taste of each other—no fear, no confusion, just the frantic urgency of their closeness. Winter’s hands roamed to Karina’s back, pulling her even closer, feeling the heat of Karina’s body against hers.
But the moment was fleeting, too intense for either of them to control. Winter pulled away, her breathing ragged, but she didn’t look at Karina. She didn’t look at her at all.
"You need to rest," Winter said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Karina’s eyes fluttered shut, her body heavy and warm, her mind a tangle of emotions and confusion. "Stay with me," she murmured, the words almost lost in the haze.
Winter didn’t respond. She just stood there for a moment longer, watching Karina as she drifted off to sleep, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of her breath.
But as Winter watched her, her gaze hardened, and something cold passed through her eyes.
She’d never intended to let this happen. Karina wasn’t just some distraction—no, she was part of the plan. Part of something darker.
And Winter was already too deep into it.