Blood in the Ice (GXG)

5 Years Ago

Devyn Hale pulled into a deserted neighborhood, the kind where the houses sat empty and dark, forgotten by everyone except the stray cats and the occasional drifter like her. The streets were lined with overgrown hedges and broken streetlights. She had scouted this neighborhood for a couple of nights before deciding it was safe to stay. The last thing she needed was to get caught trespassing. It was a dead zone—no police, no nosy neighbors. Perfect for someone who wanted to disappear.

Devyn killed the engine of her father’s old truck, the familiar rattling noise echoing into the silence before fading away like a ghost. She reached for the worn blanket from the back seat, the one that still carried the faint scent of her father’s smoky cologne, and wrapped it around herself. It was the closest thing she had left to family. Her body ached with exhaustion from hours spent standing outside the supermarket, begging for scraps, only to earn a few crumpled dollars—barely enough for a bottle of water. Her stomach growled, a hollow, familiar ache she’d learned to live with.

She adjusted the makeshift coverings over the windshield and windows, a flimsy barrier between herself and the outside world. It was a poor excuse for privacy, but it gave her a small illusion of safety. As she slumped back into the driver’s seat, she thought of the battle that awaited her in the morning—another day of scavenging, another day of survival. The thought alone made her feel even more weary.

Her mind wandered to her mother, who was probably asleep in her warm, cozy bed. The memory twisted in her gut. How had it come to this? Just because she was queer, she was condemned to the streets. Her childhood bedroom, now a storage space for her father’s old belongings, might as well be a mausoleum. A sigh escaped her lips, a small, helpless sound swallowed by the cold air.

She lowered the seat, trying to relax, but a flicker of movement caught her eye in the side mirror. Her heart skipped a beat. A car had pulled up behind her, its headlights off. She hadn’t heard it approach, which was strange given the silence of the neighborhood. Devyn sat up, squinting into the rearview mirror. The car idled, shadowed and silent, its dark shape an unsettling presence that hadn’t been there when she first parked.

A wave of unease washed over her, colder than the night air seeping through the cracked window. She’d spent enough nights on the streets to know when something wasn’t right. Instinctively, she turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered, coughing to life, but before she could shift into drive, another car pulled in front of her, blocking the exit.

Devyn’s breath caught in her throat as three figures emerged from the darkness. They moved with a fluid, predatory grace that sent a jolt of fear down her spine. The way they approached, silent and deliberate, made her feel like prey.

Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. The figures were just silhouettes in the moonlight, but there was something off about them—something too controlled, too calculating. Were they waiting for her? Staking her out? The thought made her stomach twist. Maybe they were muggers, or worse—human traffickers. A chill ran down her spine. No one would look for her if she disappeared. Not even her bigoted mother.

One of them stepped closer, a tall man with a lean build. He tapped softly on her window, the sound delicate and almost polite. Devyn flinched, pressing herself back against the seat. The man’s face was a blur in the dark, but she could see the curve of his lips, the glint of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He lifted a hand, waggling a finger in a silent request for her to roll down the window.

Devyn shook her head, her pulse pounding in her ears. The man sighed, an amused sound, before pulling back his arm. Without warning, he slammed his fist into the glass. The window shattered inward, spraying her lap with shards. She screamed, scrambling back as far as the seat would allow, her heart thundering in her chest.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” the man said, his voice low and disturbingly calm, like he was trying to soothe a frightened animal. “Just open the door and get out. Nice and slow. We only want to talk.”

Devyn’s eyes darted to the passenger seat where her father’s old metal baseball bat lay. Her fingers itched to grab it, but she knew it would be useless against three men who had already proven they weren’t afraid to use force. Still, she couldn’t just sit there. “If you wanted to talk, you wouldn’t have smashed my window!” she spat, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger.

The man stepped closer, leaning into the broken window. For the first time, she could see him clearly. He was tall, his features sharp and almost beautiful, with eyes that seemed to glow a faint, unnatural blue—like the heart of a gas flame. He smiled, revealing teeth that were too perfect, almost predatory. “You’re right,” he said lightly. “That was a bit rude of us. We’re on a tight schedule.”

“What do you want from me?” Devyn demanded, her voice cracking. “I don’t have anything! No money, no food—nothing! Just leave me alone!”

The man’s smile widened, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of something dark and hungry. “My name is Jack,” he said, as if that explained everything. “And what we want… well, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Devyn’s fingers closed around the bat, and she swung with every ounce of strength she had. Jack caught it mid-swing, his hand closing around the metal like a vice. He held her gaze, his eyes gleaming with an almost playful malice. Then, with a casual squeeze, he crushed the bat, the metal groaning before crumpling like paper.

Devyn’s breath hitched. It wasn’t possible. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, where two long, pointed teeth glinted in the moonlight. Fangs.

“What the fuck are you?” she whispered, the words barely leaving her lips.

Jack tilted his head, studying her like a painter admiring a blank canvas. “You’ll learn that soon enough,” he said calmly. “But tonight… tonight is the last night you’ll spend as a human.”

A cold, sick dread settled in Devyn’s stomach. She was trapped, with no one to save her. Her father was dead. Her mother had cast her out. And now, she was at the mercy of monsters. Maybe it didn’t matter what they did to her. Maybe she had nothing left to lose.

Jack reached through the window, his grip firm as he pulled her from the truck. Devyn froze, the fight in her died out, replaced by an incapacitated fear. “Good girl,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Let’s get you where you belong.”

As they led her to the waiting car, she cast one last glance at her father’s truck. It sat there, abandoned and broken, a relic of the life she would never return to. The car door shut behind her, and as they drove away into the darkness, she realized that this was it—the end of her old life. The last night she would ever spend as a human.