The thing that stepped through the door was not human.
It was tall—too tall, its limbs too long, its joints bending in ways that made Ryan's stomach turn. Its skin was the color of old bone, stretched tight over a frame that seemed too thin to support it. Its eyes were black holes, absorbing light instead of reflecting it.
But it was the smell that hit Ryan first. Brimstone and ash and something older. Something that had been waiting in the dark for a very long time.
"Hunter," the Keeper said, its voice flat. "I thought you were extinct."
The Hunter tilted its head. Its mouth opened, but no sound came out. Instead, a voice echoed inside Ryan's skull—cold, ancient, patient.
"Extinct? We are eternal. We were here before the first being. We will be here after the last door closes."
Ryan
