Serpent's Blood

Chapter 1 – The Weight of Nothing

Isaac Marshall had exactly $8.73 to his name. He knew that because he'd counted it twice-once before he left the corner store, and again while walking down the cracked sidewalk toward his apartment. The coins jangled in his hoodie pocket like loose teeth, and the weight of them felt heavier than it should. Probably because it was all he had left.

A train screeched somewhere in the distance, its sound cutting through the city like a dying animal. Neon signs flickered in and out on the strip ahead, mostly liquor stores and busted diners with 24-hour signs that didn't mean a thing anymore. Half the city never slept. The other half just didn't dream anymore.

Isaac belonged to the second half.

He shoved his hands deeper into the hoodie, chin tucked down, eyes scanning without looking like he was scanning. Always alert. Always ready. It was a habit drilled into him from years of growing up in Greywood-the part of the city the government pretended didn't exist and the rich only drove past with locked doors.

Apartment 403 was the same as he'd left it-dark, deadbolted, and falling apart. The door creaked when he shoved it open, and the hallway smelled like cigarettes and bleach. Mrs. Halpern's cat hissed at him from under a stairwell. The old woman had been dead three weeks, but no one came for the cat.

Or her body, for that matter. Isaac had called it in.

No one had cared.

The fourth floor was quieter. Lights out. Neighbors probably high or gone. He unlocked his door with a slight twitch of the wrist-he had to hold the key just right or it stuck-and slipped inside.

The apartment was barely a step up from the street: one room, a mattress on the floor, a hot plate that sometimes worked, and a window with a cracked pane that whistled when it rained. But it was his. He collapsed onto the mattress, letting the silence press in around him.

His phone buzzed.

He ignored it.

Then it buzzed again.

Sighing, he fished it out of his hoodie pocket. One new message. Maya.

You okay? I heard about the job.

Isaac stared at the screen. He hadn't told her. Of course she'd heard. Word spread fast in Greywood. And Maya had a way of hearing everything before it was news.

He tapped out a reply.

I'm fine. Just tired.

Three dots appeared, then vanished. Then reappeared.

Come by. I made food. You look like shit.

He huffed out a laugh. She always knew what to say to make him feel human again. Still, he didn't move. Not yet. Not tonight. He stared up at the ceiling, tracing the cracks like they were constellations.

That's when it started.

A burn in his chest. Not pain-heat. Like fire curling behind his ribs, stretching up his spine. His muscles tensed. He sat up, suddenly alert. The sensation crawled through his veins like static.

And then the window shattered.

Glass exploded inward in a perfect arc. Isaac ducked, rolled, came up on instinct. A shape landed in the room-a blur of shadow and steel.

Not human.

Its eyes glowed gold in the dark. Its skin shimmered like oil. Not a man. Not an animal. Something else.

Isaac reached for the crowbar he kept by the mattress-pure reflex-and swung. The thing moved fast, but not fast enough. The metal connected with a sickening crack, sending it skidding across the room into the dresser.

It snarled. Sharp teeth. Long limbs. Clothes that weren't clothes-some kind of living armor.

"What the hell are you?" Isaac gasped.

The thing lunged.

He braced-but it never made it.

Because the moment it touched him, something snapped.

Not inside him-out of him.

A scream tore from his throat, except it wasn't a scream-it was a hiss. A roar that vibrated the walls. His skin lit up, veins glowing faintly green, pulsing like they carried liquid flame. The creature recoiled, snarling in confusion.

And then Isaac moved-faster than he should've. Stronger than he knew he could be.

He slammed the thing into the floor, and the tiles cracked beneath them both. The creature hissed, eyes wide. It looked... afraid.

"You're one of them," it whispered, voice gurgling through broken fangs.

"One of what?" Isaac growled, not letting go.

The creature writhed once, then went still. It was gone-dissolved into black ash that scattered across the floor.

Just like that.

Isaac staggered back, breathing hard. His arms shook. His chest still burned, but it was fading-like whatever had flared up was going dormant again.

He looked at his hands.

They didn't look like his anymore. Veins still faintly glowing. Skin warm, too warm. And in his reflection-just for a second, in the cracked glass-his eyes glowed the same gold as the creature's.

He blinked.

Gone.

His phone buzzed again.

Maya: "You coming or what?"

Isaac didn't reply.

He grabbed his jacket, stepped over the ash, and left. The city outside looked the same, but he didn't. Something was broken. Or maybe... something had woken up.

And someone out there knew it.