Blood Moon Rising

Chapter 1: The First Hunt The scream tore through the trees, sharp as broken glass. Lena Graves heard it from half a mile away, the echo stretching thin before vanishing into the thick canopy. She stopped mid-step, her breath curling in the cold mountain air. A mountain lion, she told herself. Maybe a bear. But deep down, she already knew better. She pulled her rifle tighter against her shoulder, scanning the darkened woods. It was just after dusk, the last slivers of daylight bleeding through skeletal branches. The wind stirred the leaves, carrying the scent of damp earth, pine, and something else. Something coppery. Something wrong. She moved toward the sound, stepping carefully over moss-covered roots and patches of dead leaves. The forest was dense, tangled—ancient in a way that made her uneasy. Black Hollow had always felt untouched, preserved, like something older than history itself had claimed it. And tonight, it felt hungry. Lena found the body near the riverbank. At first, she didn’t recognize it as human. The thing sprawled across the damp ground was too torn, too mangled—its chest cavity a yawning, empty wound, ribs jutting up like broken branches. Blood had soaked into the earth, dark and glistening. Steam still rose from the torn flesh. The kill was fresh. Lena swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe through her mouth as she crouched beside the body. Even in the dim light, she saw the claw marks. Long, deep, unnatural. No animal did this. Not like this. Something moved in the trees behind her. A low growl, deep and reverberating, rumbled through the silence. Lena froze. Slowly, she turned her head. A pair of eyes—golden and feral—watched her from the shadows. And then, in a blur of motion,they vanished