1. Christos

1

CHRISTOS

I writhe on the ground, every nerve in my body screaming in agony. My skin feels like it's on fire, burning from the inside out. I try to scream, but my voice catches in my throat as my bones begin to shift and crack. The pain is unlike anything I've ever experienced, worse than the time I broke my arm during a diving expedition off the coast of Santorini.

"What's happening to me?" I gasp, clawing at the earth beneath me. My fingers dig into the soil, desperately seeking an anchor against the torment racking my body.

The pain intensifies, centering on my back. I feel something tearing through my flesh, ripping and stretching. My muscles spasm uncontrollably as two massive protrusions begin to emerge from my shoulder blades. It's as if my body is being torn apart and reshaped by some unseen force.

I roll onto my stomach, pressing my forehead into the cool dirt. My vision blurs, and I struggle to stay conscious through the excruciating transformation. The sound of tearing fabric fills my ears as my shirt rips apart, unable to contain the new appendages forcing their way out. I can feel the night air on my exposed skin, a stark contrast to the internal inferno consuming me.

Wings. I have wings.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and I'm overwhelmed by a mix of terror and awe. What the hell am I becoming? This can't be real, but the pain... the pain is undeniably, horrifically real.

They unfurl slowly, each movement sending shockwaves of pain through my body. I catch glimpses of dark brown membrane stretching between elongated fingers of bone. The sight only adds to my confusion and terror.

My skin tingles and I watch in horror as the color drains from my arms, leaving them ghostly pale. I touch my face, feeling the changes happening there too. My teeth ache, sharpening into points that slice my tongue when I run it over them.

"No, no, no," I mutter, fighting against the transformation with every ounce of strength I have left. But it's futile. The more I resist, the more it hurts.

My senses heighten painfully. Sounds become deafening, smells overwhelm me, and even the faint moonlight feels like it's searing my eyes. I curl into a ball, wings wrapping around me instinctively as I try to shut out the sensory overload.

The pain reaches a crescendo, and I feel like I'm being torn apart and put back together simultaneously. My heart races, then slows to an eerily steady rhythm. My lungs burn as they adjust to this new form.

I struggle to focus as a figure materializes before me. Through my hazy vision, I see a woman with skin so pale it seems to glow in the moonlight. Her hair shifts between deep purple and midnight blue, flowing around her as if caught in an invisible breeze. But it's her eyes that captivate me – completely black, like bottomless pits that threaten to pull me in.

"Who... what are you?" I rasp, my throat raw from screaming.

She kneels beside me, her movements fluid and graceful. When she speaks, her voice is both soothing and commanding. "I am Nyx, the First of all vrakken, young one. And you are becoming what you were always meant to be."

I try to back away, but my new wings tangle beneath me. "I don't understand. What's happening to me?"

Nyx reaches out, her cool hand brushing my forehead. The touch sends a jolt through my body, temporarily dulling the pain. "Your transformation is nearly complete. Embrace it, Christos. Fighting only prolongs the agony."

"How do you know my name?" I ask, trembling.

She smiles, revealing sharp fangs. "I know all my children. Now, listen carefully. Your body is changing to accommodate your new gifts. The hunger you feel? It's natural. You need to feed to complete the process."

The mention of feeding intensifies the gnawing emptiness in my gut. I curl tighter into myself, trying to resist the urge. "No, I can't... I won't..."

Nyx's expression hardens. "You must. Your old life is over, Christos. Accept what you've become."

Tears sting my eyes as I look at my pale hands, so different from the olive skin I once had. "And what exactly is that?"

"You are vrakken now," she says, her voice filled with pride. "Immortal, powerful, beyond human comprehension."

I shake my head, overwhelmed. "I didn't ask for this. I want to go home."

Nyx's eyes soften slightly. "I know this is difficult, but you'll understand in time. For now, focus on controlling your new senses. Breathe deeply, let your instincts guide you."

I close my eyes, trying to follow her instructions. Slowly, the cacophony of sounds begins to separate into distinct noises – the rustle of leaves, the scurrying of small creatures, the steady thrum of... heartbeats?

Nyx nods approvingly. "Good. Now, let's tend to your hunger. It's time for your first hunt."

I stagger to my feet, my new wings unfurling instinctively to help me balance. The world around me comes into sharp focus, every detail crystal clear. I can see individual leaves on trees hundreds of feet away, hear the heartbeats of small animals scurrying through the underbrush. The scents of the forest assault my nose - earth, decay, and something tantalizingly sweet that makes my mouth water.

"What is that smell?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nyx's lips curl into a knowing smile. "Blood. You can smell it pumping through every living creature around us. Now, let your instincts guide you. Hunt."

I shake my head, trying to resist the pull. But the hunger gnaws at me, an all-consuming need that threatens to overwhelm my senses. Before I can stop myself, I'm moving through the forest at impossible speeds, my feet barely touching the ground.

I spot a deer grazing in a small clearing. In an instant, I'm upon it. My hand closes around its neck, lifting it effortlessly. The deer's terrified eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I hesitate.

But then I smell its blood, hear its frantic heartbeat. My newfound instincts take over. My fangs pierce its flesh, and warm blood floods my mouth. The taste is indescribable - rich, complex, satisfying in a way nothing else has ever been.

I drain the deer dry in seconds, letting the carcass fall to the ground. As I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, I'm hit by a wave of conflicting emotions. Horror at what I've done battles with an intense feeling of satisfaction and power.

"How do you feel?" Nyx asks, suddenly beside me.

I turn to her, my voice shaking. "Alive. More alive than I've ever felt. And that terrifies me."

She nods, understanding in her black eyes. "The hunt is part of who we are now, Christos. Embrace it."

I look down at my hands, still stained with blood. "I don't know if I can."

"You will," she says confidently. "In time, you'll learn to control your hunger, to use your new abilities. But for now, let yourself feel the rush. It's the only way to truly understand what you've become."

I close my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me. The strength coursing through my veins, the heightened awareness of everything around me, the lingering taste of blood on my tongue. It's intoxicating and terrifying all at once.