CHAPTER 185: Blood War

CHAPTER 185: Blood War

Year 2000. Somewhere on the interstate highway.

The roar of the engine was the only thing keeping Michael awake. The speedometer read 160 km/h, but he kept pressing the accelerator hard, as if speed could leave behind the ghosts chasing him. The cold night air seeped through the partially open windows, but nothing could calm the burning in his chest or the damned paranoia swirling in his head.

"As long as I can remember, the lycans haven't stopped hunting me." Michael gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension. "What they want is simple: my DNA. Because according to them, I'm the key to creating something that shouldn't even exist."

The wind cut like blades as the dark highway stretched endlessly before him. But he knew that around every curve, every shadow in the rearview mirror, they were lurking. There wasn't a single day he didn't feel the hot breath of some beast on his neck or narrowly escape their claws. The hunt had started when he was just a child. And now, many years later, he still didn't understand why he was the chosen one to be the final piece of a doomed experiment.

"One in a million..." he whispered, repeating the words a vampire hunter had told him once before dying. "Only one in every million people has the genetic anomaly that can bridge the two races: vampire and lycan. And I'm that damn exception."

He accelerated more, as if he could blow the car's engine with his desperation. He knew that if Marius, the leader of the lycans, got his hands on his blood, the world as he knew it would come to an end. That madman didn't want more power or dominion... he wanted to become something beyond both races. An immortal hybrid, stronger than any vampire and faster than any lycan.

Michael slammed his palm against the dashboard. All for a single drop of blood.

"The worst part is, I don't even know why I have this luck," he muttered to himself, swerving past a truck on the road. "All I know is that since I was born, I've been a death sentence on legs."

At that moment, a metallic screech sounded in the distance. Something heavy landed on the car's roof. The tires squealed, the car swerved, and Michael nearly lost control.

"No... Damn it, not now!"

The vehicle's roof dented as if someone had jumped from the sky. It was one of them. He could smell the animal stench even with the window closed. A lycan had landed on his car and was tearing a hole with its claws, eager to get to him. Michael wrenched the steering wheel, trying to shake the monster off, but the car skidded on the curve.

"Don't you ever get tired of screwing with me!?" he growled, letting go of the wheel for a second to reach for the gun tucked between his legs.

The lycan ripped through the roof, tearing the metal like paper. Without thinking, Michael raised the gun and fired several shots at the dark silhouette. Two shots to the chest. One to the head. The creature let out an enraged cry, but didn't fall. You don't kill them that easily. It's never that easy.

The car continued zigzagging down the highway, each second bringing it closer to disaster. In the distance, he spotted a bridge, a sign of a possible escape.

"If Marius wants me, he's going to have to prove he can catch me first," he snarled through clenched teeth, gripping the steering wheel with renewed fury. "And I'm not making it easy for him."

He wrenched the steering wheel with all his strength, sending the car straight toward the guardrail. He'd crash the car, roll it if necessary, but he'd rather die than hand over his blood. Before losing control, he felt the warmth of his own blood on his hands and a certainty as cold as the wind on the highway: If he fell, Marius would have everything.

But Michael wasn't going down that easily.

Michael cursed under his breath as he pulled the trigger once more. This time, the shot was true. The bullet hit the creature right in the temple, piercing bone and brain in a fraction of a second. The lycan let out an agonized groan and collapsed onto the car's hood, dead instantly.

His lifeless body slid heavily across the windshield, leaving a trail of black blood that mixed with the dust and insects crushed by the vehicle's speed. Michael took a deep breath, still gripping the steering wheel with one hand and the gun with the other.

"Finally, one less."

The car continued roaring down the highway, but Michael had no time for celebrations. He knew that where there was one, more would come. They always came.

As he disappeared into the distance, three silent figures emerged from the forest bordering the highway. They moved like shadows among the trees, their eyes gleaming in the darkness, and their bodies began to change with each step.

Their muscles shrank, claws retracted, and dark fur gave way to human skin. They were three lycans now walking upright in human form, watching the lifeless body of their comrade with cold, calculating expressions.

The dead lycan's corpse lay in the middle of the asphalt, twisted at an unnatural angle. Phoenix was the first to approach, his boots striking the highway with a carefree rhythm. He stopped beside the body and nudged it with the tip of his foot.

"Well, well. Was that Steffan?" he said with a crooked smile, raising an eyebrow.

Marcus crouched beside the corpse, inspecting the bullet wound in the head with an indifferent expression. "Yeah. It was him. Or what was left of his brain." He brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it, as if they hadn't just lost one of their own.

Raze clicked his tongue in annoyance. "We were supposed to intercept that car without mistakes. What the hell was Steffan doing jumping like a rookie?"

Phoenix let out a sarcastic laugh, clearly enjoying his fallen comrade's failure. "The funny thing is, I was the one who was supposed to jump onto the car. And guess what? Now I don't have to do anything." He gave Steffan's lifeless body a light kick. "Good job, genius. You jumped the gun and got your head blown off."