A deathly silence fell over the construction site as the temperature plummeted. The air thickened, heavy with an unnatural presence. The very foundation of the structure seemed to tremble under the weight of something beyond human comprehension. The darkness responded to Alexander's call, tendrils of living shadow slithering along the ground, curling around his legs like loyal beasts awaiting command. His violet eyes burned like twin beacons in the night, his aura shifting into something primal, something that transcended mortality.
Vasiliev's smirk vanished, his body instinctively recoiling as a chill ran down his spine. His grip on the pistol tightened, his knuckles turning white. This was not the same opponent he had been fighting moments ago. The battlefield had changed. The energy surrounding Alexander was suffocating, oppressive—something old, something unnatural. The shadows at his feet trembled, pulsating like a heartbeat, raw and untamed, flickering with hunger. Every inch of darkness in the skeletal building bent toward him, responding to his presence as if he were their king.
Alexander rolled his shoulders, feeling the surge of his abilities coursing through him. The pain from his wound dulled into the background, irrelevant now. He was done playing by Vasiliev's rules. His body no longer felt bound by the constraints of ordinary physics. He could feel it—his power resonating deep within, whispering, demanding to be unleashed.
The Butcher's stance shifted, his breathing measured but tense. "What the hell are you?" His voice, though controlled, held an undeniable edge of unease. The man who had dominated the battlefield mere moments ago now stood before something he didn't understand. For the first time, there was doubt in his eyes.
Alexander didn't answer. He didn't need to.
The shadows surged.
Vasiliev fired. A single shot, precise and deadly, aimed straight at Alexander's heart.
The bullet never reached him.
A tendril of darkness snapped up, intercepting the shot mid-air, swallowing it whole. The projectile was devoured, vanishing as though it had never existed. Another bullet followed, then another. Each was consumed before impact, the gunfire drowned out by the howling wind. The shadows danced around Alexander, forming a living barrier, writhing and twisting with an eerie grace. The tendrils moved as if they had a will of their own, sensing the threat, waiting to strike.
Vasiliev's eyes widened in disbelief. He squeezed the trigger again, emptying the clip in rapid succession, but it was futile. Each shot was erased before it could reach its target. The hunter, the predator who had spent his life instilling fear in others, now stood against something far beyond him.
Alexander moved.
Faster than before.
A blur of darkness, Alexander surged forward, his speed amplified beyond human limits. He was on Vasiliev in a heartbeat, his fist slamming into the Russian's chest with crushing force. The impact sent Vasiliev flying backward like a ragdoll, crashing into a steel pillar. The entire structure groaned under the force, the metal denting where his body struck.
Vasiliev coughed violently, struggling to regain his footing, but Alexander was already on him.
A tendril shot forward, wrapping around Vasiliev's wrist, yanking him toward another devastating knee strike. The Butcher's breath left him in a sharp gasp, pain flaring through his ribs. But he recovered, his instincts taking over. He reached for his knife in a last-ditch effort.
It was useless.
The shadows intercepted. They coiled around his arm like serpents, twisting, constricting, their inky forms prying the blade from his grasp. The weapon clattered to the ground, disappearing into the abyss below.
Vasiliev, a man who had never known fear, felt it now. The suffocating weight of something he could not fight, something he could not control. He had spent his life hunting others, dismantling them piece by piece. But now, he was the one being broken apart.
For the first time, Vasiliev looked rattled. "You… you're not human."
Alexander tilted his head, his glowing violet eyes narrowing. "You're just figuring that out?" His voice was devoid of the previous battle-born excitement. It was colder now. Detached. As if he had already moved past this fight.
The shadows exploded outward, engulfing Vasiliev, dragging him into their suffocating embrace. The Russian struggled, thrashing wildly, but it was like fighting against the night itself. The darkness wrapped around his limbs, constricting, pulling him deeper. It was not solid, nor gas, but something in between—an existence between reality and oblivion.
His screams never left his throat. The shadows swallowed them whole, muting his defiance until only silence remained.
The predator had become the prey.
Alexander exhaled slowly, the shadows retracting, slithering back to his feet like loyal servants returning to their master. The air remained unnaturally still, the eerie quiet settling over the site like the aftermath of a storm. He looked down at the motionless form of Vasiliev—the man who had once been a terrifying force in the underworld, now just another victim lost to the abyss.
He had won.
But deep inside, he knew this was only the beginning.
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