THE LYCAN'S FATED WEAK MATE

Heart racing and pounding loud in his ear, chest heaving as he weaved his way around the people in his way. His eyes caught a basket of tomatoes, and effortlessly he jumped over it, hearing the owner yell after him.

"Stop!"

Mason glanced at the group of boys chasing after him. Are they not tired? He could barely feel his legs, his strength wearing thin as they had been chasing him for almost an hour.

His fist clenched. He couldn't give up; he needed to lose them. If they got to him, it would be over. His rib still hurt, and the doctor had warned him he might have internal bleeding if the bullying didn't stop. He couldn't afford to get hospitalized, not with so much else to worry about.

He glanced back again, just to keep their distance in check, but found them gone. Had he lost them? He halted for a moment-they were nowhere in sight. Gripping his bag closer, he headed for the next corner but was welcomed by a punch to his face.

Mason fell, nose bleeding. His head spun as he hit the ground hard, pain shooting through his back, making him yelp.

"Where do you think you're going, misfit?" Authur, the most brutal one among them, smirked down at him.

Hastily, Mason got to his feet and tried to run out of the corner, but was met with another brutal punch, sending him back to the floor with a busted lip. Thane, who had hit him, glared down at him.

"Please, let me go," Mason couldn't help but beg. A single hit might kill him. James grabbed his collar, his face inches away as he shot him the coldest look.

"Begging now, huh? Thought you'd learn by now that it only makes it worse."

Mason could taste the metallic bitterness of his blood on his lips. He wanted to fight back, scream, run-do anything but plead-but the pain radiating through his body was overwhelming.

One of the boys snickered, kicking Mason's bag, its contents sprawling across the floor. Mason's eyes flickered to his belongings: books, notes, his phone. He watched as the boy stepped on his notes, and it took every ounce of strength in him not to yell.

"Look at you. Nothing but a pathetic stray," Authur sneered. "I gave you a strict warning, didn't I? I asked you to be careful with my essay, but you made it obvious the work was yours."

Mason sniffled. "I told you, I have no idea how Mrs. Katherine found out," he defended, only to have Authur slam him against the brick wall, making him wince.

"Yes, you did. You did it on purpose, thinking I wouldn't make you do my schoolwork anymore. But guess what? As long as you're alive and still in Washington, I'll torment you until your last breath," Authur spat.

Mason's vision blurred as he tried to fight back his tears. He wanted to argue that he had done everything to avoid suspicion, but it was pointless to argue with someone like Authur

Being the son of a famous tycoon in the city, Authur had everyone wrapped around his finger-both students and teachers. No one would believe Mason's story, even if he dared to tell it. Not only Authur but many others at school despised him.

Madon had gotten into the college on a scholarship, and he'd thought it was a dream come true. But setting foot on campus had turned it into a nightmare. He barely fit in, and even though he tried hard not to get noticed, his academic performance quickly drew attention Instead of bringing pride, it made him a target.

As the son of the wealthiest man in the city, Authur was used to getting whatever he wanted-and to being seen as the best. Mason's presence, his undeniable brilliance, threatened that image, even though he hadn't meant to.

"I think... instead of helping you with your work and stuff..." Mason began, hoping what he was about to say wouldn't trigger Authur any further. But he had no choice. "I think I should... maybe tutor you? So you can do it yourself."

"The fuck?" Jay cursed behind Authur, a hint that Mason had crossed a line.

Authur laughed, a laugh that seemed unhinged. "You want to tutor me? What do you think I am, a dumbass?"

Mason's jaw clenched. What the hell did he want from him, then? That was the only help he could offer. He couldn't possibly make himself fail intentionally just because of Authur. Mason had goals too-to succeed, and to support his sick mother.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. "I think instead of wasting your time here bullying me, you should be feeding your brain with necessary things."

He had gone insane. He had finally gone insane to say such a thing. Mason swallowed hard, trying to focus on Authur's face, which now wore a smirk, his eyes narrowing coldly.

Surprisingly, Authur let go of his collar. Mason would have fallen if it weren't for the wall, his knees weak from the intense running. Were they letting him go? His last shred of hope shattered as Authur grinned and gave the order.

"Beat him up."

Mason's eyes widened. No, not like this!

"No, wait. You can't-" The boys swiftly closed in, sweeping his feet out from under him. Mason curled into a ball as they stomped on him, each kick making his head spin with pain.

_

"Mister Mason Allen, you're young, with a lot ahead of you. Don't let anyone take that away from you. You're lucky again... but you can't keep letting this happen all the time. Internal bleeding is not something you can handle," the female doctor advised, her quipped and Mason knew so well she was trying to keep her frustration in check.This wasn't the first time she was patching him up, urging him to open up, but Mason knew better; that would only make things worse.

"We'll have to admit you, Mister Mason. Your body needs a proper check," the doctor said from behind.

"What-" Mason's eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. "Admit me? I don't think that's necessary..."

"It could get serious and lead to surgery. It's just for a while. Please stay," the doctor cut in. He sighed at the word "surgery." He couldn't afford that, especially with no money and so much else to cover.On the third day, Mason felt better, though the bruises remained. No one had visited him; he had no relatives other than his sick mother. It had been three days since he last saw her-she would be worried sick.

"When am I getting discharged?" he asked the nurse attending to him, his expression flat.

"Tomorrow, Mister Allen-"

"Can I go home today? I can't stay here any longer," he cut in.

"But your treatment-"

"I want to leave. I'm fine already," he snapped, his chest heaving with frustration. He hated his life.

"Oh... okay. I'll inform the doctor," the nurse said before leaving the ward.

The process was quick; the doctor prescribed medication and urged him to rest. Mason nodded, knowing that wouldn't be possible in his situation.

With the little money he had, he headed to see his mother first. She looked thinner than before, the hollows of her cheeks deepened, and the once-bright spark in her eyes had dulled. She lay weakly on the bed, tubes in her nostrils and wrist, the steady beeping of machines echoing in the room.

He hated seeing her like this-sick, fragile, and slowly fading away. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he approached and sat beside her.

The doctor had been vague about her prognosis, but Mason knew the illness had taken hold of her months ago. The diagnosis was merely a way to delay the inevitable. His mother was everything to him, and he refused to lose her.

"Hey, Mom," he said quietly, forcing a smile. "How are you feeling?"

She turned her head slightly to look at him. "Better," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "The nurses have been taking good care of me."

"How is school, my love?" Her trembling hand reached for his. Her breath was weak and labored.

"School is fine... just as usual," he lied, forcing another smile. He couldn't tell his mother about Authur and his friends bullying him; that would only worry her.

"You're such a great liar, son," she chuckled. Right, he had bruises on his face. Her eyes flashed with sadness, but she said nothing.

The ward fell silent for a while. The weight of the situation gnawed at him, making it feel like the world was closing in, leaving him no space to breathe. The next diagnosis was looming, and he still hadn't gathered enough money.

Now, he had missed three days of work; his boss would be furious.

Her fingers tightened weakly around his arm. "You are strong, Mason; you've always been. Don't lose that, no matter how tough things get."

He nodded, though he couldn't help but wonder when things would finally get better.

***********

"You're fired,"

Mason's heart dropped to his feet as the cruel words sank in. He searched for a hint of compassion in the middle-aged man's face, but there was none. His boss looked at him with the same icy indifference he'd shown for the past few weeks.

"But... sir, I was at the hospital-"

"Singing the same song again about your sick mother?" His boss sneered, cutting him off. "I'm tired of being so considerate, boy, ignoring all your mistakes and taking your lame excuses." His voice was sharp, each word hitting Mason like a physical blow. "You're not the only one with problems. Get your priorities straight."

Mason's throat tightened. He had expected this-deep down, he knew it was coming-but hearing it out loud made his world crumble.

"I-" He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "I need this job... you don't understand."

"I don't care what you need," the man spat, his face twisted in disdain. "This is a business, not a charity. Get out."

"Sir... just one last chance, I promise to-"

"Security!" the man roared, seeming to have made up his mind long ago, just waiting for this moment. This job was his main source of income, covering his meals and his mother's hospital bills. Realizing he wouldn't be able to convince the man, Mason clenched his jaw and left.

--

Mason returned to school after spending the night searching for job opportunities but found none. This was the worst possible time to get fired. With his mother's diagnosis so close and the rent overdue, he knew he was about to face the worst.

The moment he stepped into the classroom, his eyes locked onto Authur, whose lips flashed with a mischievous grin, eyes glinting with excitement.

"Look who's back," Authur laughed, watching Mason take his seat in his usual spot-away from the others. Alone, like an outcast.

"Seriously, does he only have one outfit? It's the same fucking blue hoodie," Thane chuckled, with Reed, their third, joining in.

Mason struggled to keep his anger in check. Those bastards needed to pay for what they had done to him. They didn't just torment him; now they had made him lose his only source of income.

Authur rose from his seat and sat beside him, throwing his arm around Mason. "Hey, do you miss me?"

Mason swallowed the bile rising in his throat; it was taking all he had not to punch this motherfucker in the face right now.

Authur leaned close to his ear and whispered those dreadful words. "You know what I mean."

Mason's eyes teared up, raising to meet Authur's sly smile. Memories washed over him-the day this bastard forced him to their place to do unimaginable things.

Authur slapped Mason's head, pushing his gaze away. "Don't glare at me, dumbass. Do you want to deny enjoying the fun?" He chuckled and whispered, his fingers caressing Mason's hair. "Does your ass still hurt?"

A tear slipped from Mason's eyes as he shut them, fists clenching as he tried to suppress the memories, his head down, hiding the shame and anger burning on his face.

The classroom, filled with the familiar buzz of students chatting and laughing, felt suffocating. To them, it seemed just like another day, but to him, it was a nightmare.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Mason asked, his voice filled with anger and pain. It was barely audible, but Authur heard him.

"No reason," Authur clicked his tongue, his words making Mason's anger rise. The worst part was, he could do nothing to stop these relentless taunts. He was insignificant in the eyes of both the students and lecturers, even though he was the top student.

Authur continued. "But I can tell you how to get out of this." Mason looked up at him, curious about what he was about to say. "You just have to drop out. Seeing you just makes me want to do things to you." With a final tap on his head, Authur left the seat, leaving Mason frozen.

Drop out? School was his only way out. The only chance to build a future for himself and take care of his mother. The thought of giving up on everything made his stomach churn.

But Authur's words gnawed at him. 'Seeing you just makes me want to do things to you'. The threat was clear, but he wasn't going to just give up.

"Where the heck is the lecturer? We've been sitting here for an hour!" one of the girls complained, breaking Mason's thoughts. He quickly wiped his tears.

Others voiced their frustrations, and some started to gather their things to leave, but then the female vice chancellor stepped in. The class fell silent, respecting her presence.

"Good afternoon, everyone," her voice resonated through the room. "I have an announcement to make... Apparently, Mr. Chris resigned yesterday-"

"Does that mean we won't have History?" One of the girls in the class interjected."No," the vice chancellor shot a warning look at the girl, her voice firm. "You have a new professor to guide you in that course."

"Let's welcome Professor Ste-phen, if we must, please."

Jaws dropped, eyes widened as shock and disbelief swept across the room at the tall, imposing figure who stepped in.

Professor Ste-phen entered with an aura of authority that commanded immediate attention. The soft click of his polished black shoes against the floor seemed to echo louder than the murmurs that gradually faded.

He wore a tailored black suit that hugged his tall, built frame, and his dark hair was slicked back, framing a remarkably cold handsome face.

His gaze was sharp and cold as it swept across the space. Was he even human? Everything about this man screamed perfection.

Mason felt an unusual magnetic pull that made his breath hitch. Something about him felt off.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Professor Ste-phen's voice sliced through the silence, deep and sharp like the edge of a dagger. "I'll be taking the History course for the remainder of the semester."

Mason's gaze remained fixed on him. Suddenly, those cold eyes flicked in his direction, causing Mason's heart to skip a beat.

He quickly averted his gaze, his chest heaving as a strange heat rose to his cheeks.

The class began as Professor Ste-phen continued from where the old lecturer had left off. His voice was thick yet smooth. Each time his gaze met Mason's, Mason quickly looked away.

Why did it affect him? Was it the same for everyone else?

Mason's eyes darted around the room. He noticed the girls were practically drooling over him, their faces lighting up whenever Professor Ste-phen's gaze fell in their direction.

Mason couldn't concentrate. He then decided to fix his eyes on his book.

The class seemed to drag on, finally ending after an hour. Professor Ste-phen was good-smooth in his teaching, his accent impeccable.

The girls clapped as he wrapped up his lecture, drawing out the list of names in the class.

"Sarah Martin," he called out with ease, his voice filling the room.

"Present, sir," a girl exclaimed excitedly from the back.

"Is this some kind of freaking high school or something?" Mason heard Aurthur mutter under his breath.

Professor Ste-phen's piercing gaze snapped to Aurthur, and he immediately fell silent. For the first time, Mason witnessed Aurthur being intimidated by someone.

"Carl Martinez," the professor called next, and a guy responded from the back.

Soon, it was Mason's turn. "Mason Allen."

"Present, sir," Mason replied, swallowing hard as their gazes locked. Chills prickled his skin. What was happening to him?

"Freak," Aurthur whispered just loud enough for Mason to hear.

After class ended, Professor Ste-phen left the class while Mason hastily packed his things, but Aurthur stepped in his path, a smirk on his lips.

"Where are you going, Misfit? Let's have a chat," Aurthur taunted smugly.

"Get out of my way," Mason demanded. The anger of what Aurthur said to him earlier, still gnawed on his nerves.

"Or what?" Aurthur challenged, his friends watching with eager anticipation. Mason could feel the stares of the other students, enjoying the show.

When Mason didn't respond, Aurthur shoved him in the chest. "Or what, Mason?" He pushed him again, making Mason lose his balance and fall, hitting his head on one of the desks.

Pain shot through him as he groaned, reaching for his head only to see blood on his fingers.

Mason's eyes flashed with anger as Aurthur laughed. Hissing in fury, he charged at Aurthur and landed a heavy punch on his face.

Blood spilled from Aurthur's lips like a fountain as he fell against the desk with a loud thud. A cry escaped him, and realization struck Mason.

He had just hit Aurthur-the son of the renowned CEO of Moore Corporation.

The word "doomed" hardly captured his predicament. It was over. Mr. Moore would undoubtedly come after him. His education would be ruined, and all his efforts wasted.

The other students were just as shocked as Mason, including Aurthur's friends, who were momentarily distracted. Seizing the opportunity, Mason dashed out of the classroom.

"Asshole!" Thane shouted, trailing after him.

Once outside, the chase began. Thane and Reed were hot on his heels. He ignored the ache on his body and focused more on escaping these guys.

A dropout? He was considering that as the best option now.

Mason weaved through the crowd, the chase lasting several minutes before he finally lost them. He found a corner to hide and catch his breath.

Tears pricked at his eyes. There's no way he'll be able to set foot into school ever again.

•••

That night, Mason settled down with the small dinner he had managed to prepare for himself, his heart still racing from the school encounter with Aurthur. What was he thinking hitting Jmaes like that. He deserves it. Yeah, but he still shouldn't have.

They didn't know where he lived, but he couldn't shake the sense of foreboding growing within him.

A knock sounded on his door, making him flinch. He stayed quiet, not expecting any visitors. The knock came again, louder this time.

"Who's there?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Open the door, freak," came Aurthur's voice from the other side, causing Mason to jump. They had found out where he lived? How?

"Oh God," he muttered, fear etched on his face.

"Open up, or I'm gonna break this door down!!" Aurthur yelled, punctuating his threat with a loud thud. It was clear he was furious. Unfortunately, the lock on Mason's door was faulty.

After several hard hits, the door smashed open. Aurthur and his friends stepped inside his room apartment, their eyes burning with rage.

Mason grabbed a frying pan in defense, his heart racing as he stared at them. Aurthur's eyes darted around, and Mason noticed the bruise at the corner of Aurthur's lips-the one he had inflicted.

"I knew your place would be as trashy as you are," Aurthur mocked, drawing something from beneath his shirt. A dagger. His friends did the same.

Oh shit.

Sweat beaded on Mason's forehead as he took a step back.

Mason's throat dried, his mouth slightly parted, chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. His grip on the frying pan tightened, bracing for what was about to come.

"You've got some nerve, Misfit. Not only did you insult me, but you also punched me in front of the entire fucking class!" Aurthur roared, kicking a chair before stepping forward.

"Get out of my house, or I'll call the cops," Mason's voice trembled.

"The cops? Oh please, even if you do, they'll do nothing," Aurthur sneered, his expression transforming into one of bloodlust. "I should have killed you when I had the chance. There's no holding back now."

Thane and Reed charged at Mason, who tried to defend himself with the frying pan but was no match for them. They brought him down to the floor.

"Stop it! Ugh!!"

They hit him several times, and Mason curled into a ball. By the time they were finished, he was bleeding from multiple wounds, bruises marring his skin.

His vision blurred as he fought to stay conscious. Was this how it was going to end?

"Mom," he whispered, though no sound escaped his lips. It hurt everywhere.

Aurthur let out a dark chuckle, crouching down to cradle Mason's bloody face. "Now I'm going to savor your screams while I cut you piece by piece, Mason. You don't deserve to live."

It was all over. This was how he was going to die. A painful smile spread across Mason's face as despair washed over him. After all his struggles, he would end up killed in his own apartment.

Just as Aurthur raised the knife, the lights flickered out.

"What the hell?" Thane's voice echoed in the darkness.

"Turn on the lights!" Aurthur demanded, his grip tightening around Mason's neck.

The air suddenly shifted, becoming cold and chilling, as if the room had been swallowed by an unnatural force, sending shivers down their spines.

"Guys, do you feel that?" Reed asked, his eyes darting around in a panic.

"Yeah," Thane whispered.

"Turn on the damn lights!" Aurthur barked, but a low rumble echoed from the darkness. Thane quickly reached for his phone while Reed stared at a dark figure he had spotted.

Silence. Then, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the corner of the room, cutting through the dark like twin orbs of fire.

"What the-"

Reed's words were cut off. Mason, confused by the unfolding events, felt Aurthur's hand leave his neck, followed by sounds that terrified him to the core.

Screams. Pleas. Sickening cracks of bones. Growls and the sound of blood splattering. Some of it even reached Mason's face.

Mason noticed the glowing eyes moving like a flash before everything fell silent. The eyes settled on him, drawing closer with heavy thuds, a clear sign of their approach.

A terrifying monster was in his room. This had to be a nightmare, right? This couldn't be real.

Just then, the light flickered back on for a brief moment, and Mason caught a glimpse of the tall, imposing figure in his room.

No way.

Professor Ste-phen?

******

Ste-phen

Weak, lowly human... Not just a human, but a male. A fucking male, bullied by his own peers. He was full of shit.

The moon goddess was certainly playing tricks on him.

After centuries of searching, filled with the hope of finding his female mate-the one he desired above all-he ended up with a male.

His beta had been right. He was cursed never to be happy. How could he have thought the moon goddess would forgive him after what he had done years ago?

The heavens would torment him until the end of his immortal life. Why not just end him as punishment instead of tormenting him this way?

Ste-phen eyes settled on the unconscious boy laying on his king sized bed. His body full of bruises, some old, some fresh. Just how weak his mate is?

His dark eyes observed his face close.

The boy's face was delicate, paled beneath the bruise and scratches that marred his skin. His breath were shallow, with each rise and fall if his chest reminding Ste-phen of how fragile he was.

Ste-phen was twice his size-a far cry from the strong, fierce, beautiful mate he had craved for all these years.

Every fiber of his being resented this bond, feeling like a curse-a twisted joke that gnawed at his soul. He rebelled against the invisible strings that tied their souls together, yet he could feel them pulling him towards the boy on the bed.

Ste-phen leaned closer, his breath brushing against the boy's skin. The scent overwhelmed him, faint yet buried beneath blood and sweat.

He hated it. He hated him.

What was his name again? Mason Allens.

"Damn the moon goddess," Ste-phen growled, his cold eyes fixed on the boy.

Mason stirred slightly, his lips parting in a soft whimper, although he didn't wake up. For a fleeting moment, Ste-phen's gaze softened before bitterness and anger returned.

The boy would break under his pressure.

He had almost killed those assholes from last night. He enjoyed torturing them, almost killing them, and savoring their screams. This was his mate, after all.

Fuck. He hated the possessiveness he felt toward boy. The urge to destroy anyone who hurt him. He loathed it.

The boy's stirred again, this time his eyes fluttered open, meeting with his gaze.

He gasped and shifted away from him in a haste, a frown settled upon his face.

"Pro... Professor Ste-phen?" He stuttered, darting his eye around the room. "W..what am I doing here?... Why am I here? What is this place?"

He asks a lot of questions, and have a bad retentive memories. Ste-phen took note of those points.

Okay. This is all bullshit. He should just go with rejection instead. He can't keep up with this.

"I Ste-phen Draven reject you Mason Allen as my mate" Ste-phen said, his voice cold as he waited for the boy's reaction.

Nothing.

Mason only stared at him confusion, a frown settled on his face.

No pain on his chest? Like his heart was squeezing?

Ah right, he doesn't have a wolf. He was a human.

Mason suddenly hissed at the pain on his body, his hand rubbed on his rib region. Then, his eyes snapped wide open, his began to race as he shifted his gaze to him.

"You..." He paused. "You were in my room last night... That wasn't a dream? You... What are you? You had glowing eyes"

Ste-phen sighed, maybe once he accept the rejection, all of these would be over.

"Accept the rejection, Mason" he demanded, eyes cold as he waited for the boy to speak. Instead, he quickly jumped down from the bed and ran to the door to dash other.

Just as Mason was about to reach the door, a strong wind brush his skin, and Ste-phen's hand wrapped around his neck, slamming him to the wall.

He winced as the pain that shot through his spine.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ste-phen growled, his eyes flashing color for a fleeting moment.

"Please let me go. Please don't kill me" Mason sobbed.

'Fuck, such a crybaby' Ste-phen thought, then something struck his mind. A sly smile crept on his lips.

"Fine, I won't kill you. But only on one condition, Mason" Ste-phen could hear Mason racing heart. Seeing creatures fear him, oddly intrigued him but it wasn't the case for this boy. He need to get this over with.

"Accept my rejection and I'll let you go" Ste-phen demanded.

"I don't know the fuck you're talking about" the boy trembled under his hold.

Ste-phen let out a low rumble of frustration. "Fine repeat after me. I Mason Allen accept your rejection, Ste-phen Draven"

"I, Mason Allen accept your rejection, Ste-phen Draven" he said quickly.

Ste-phen felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. The string tying their soul together was still there. His jaw clenched hard. This wasn't right. The rejection should severe the bond, shattering the chain that bind him with this fragile human.

Yet it was still there, strong. Gnawing at his soul.

"Fucking damnit" he growled.

Mason whimpered, his hold around his neck was getting tighter. He asked "You said you'll let go.. Did.. I do it wrong?"

Ste-phen let out a low growled. He would do it again.

"I Ste-phen Draven reject you Mason Allen as my mate" he repeated and instructed. "now repeat what you said earlier"

He seemed to catch on and accepted the rejected. Yet nothing. The bond remained the same. It was driving him nuts.

He released and moved away from the boy before he squeeze the life out of him, and end him right there. In which would destroy him completely.

Mason saw that he distracted, occupied by rage and confusion. His eyes spot a random key on the small shelf, siezed the opportunity and dashed out of the room only to meet the spacious living room, bath with wealth and luxury, well furnished and grand.

Just how rich was this man? Who was he? His space was overwhelming-- a display of wealth and power. The wall lined with ancient priceless arts, framed with gold, crystal chandelier hund at the center of the room, casting a soft glow. The ground made of plush dark carper, far luxurious for his dirty feet.

He haven't encounter such a luxurious place before, but then reminded himself of his situation. His eyes search frantically for the door, and when he spot it, his feet quickened towards it.

He searched for a key hole, but found none. It was a high tech door, that can be open through a fingerprint, key card or face identification.. which means, Ste-phen was the only one who can open the door.

"Oh God"

"And where do you think you're going?" Ste-phen's voice made his voice ran cold. Not only just because of his voice, but because, he could feel his hard chest pressing against his back.

Mason didn't even hear his footstep coming close, how did he got to him like a flash. His eyes shut, waiting for the man to tear him apart, but instead he heard beep and his eyes opened only to see the door slipping open.

Mason didn't waste a second stormed out before the door could close. Just before it shut, his eyes met with Ste-phen.

Those eyes felt like it peirced through his sould, he noticed Ste-phen's lips curled up, making him look like one of those demons from hell. It scared the shit out of him.

Mason ran as he could without looking back.

What the hell was he?!