Black High School – Washington
"Alright, class. Everyone to your seats," said the history teacher firmly as he leaned against the doorframe.
Damian Hale. The name all the girls (and more than a few boys) whispered about in secret. Tall, attractive, with long, wavy black hair falling messily over his shoulders. His eyes—dark red, almost too subtle to notice—made anyone uncomfortable if they dared to hold his gaze for too long. He had that mysterious aura, like he carried a thousand stories in every glance.
He placed his briefcase on the desk and began to speak, walking slowly across the classroom. His voice was deep and calm... but there was something behind it. Something that felt both soothing and unsettling.
"Today is the festival of The Old House. Let's talk about its origin."
Some students muttered in excitement, others just stared out the windows, waiting for time to pass.
"Does anyone know why this day is celebrated?" Damian asked, half-smiling as he scanned the class.
Angela Swan—the classic popular girl with shiny brown hair and smart eyes—raised her hand confidently.
"Because today marks the 120th anniversary of the town, right? It's like a tribute to the ancestors and founders," she answered.
Damian nodded slightly.
"Exactly… But that's only what we're told. Let's go a bit deeper."
He turned to the board and wrote:
"Black Hollow: The Five Legends."
The Witch of the Swamp
The Founders' Blood Pact
The Demon Beneath the Church
The Vampire of Hollow Woods
The House That Breathes
Now the students were paying attention, caught in the heavy air of mystery.
"They say the old house was built on a witches' graveyard. That the founders made a deal with something… not human. That decades ago, a hunter arrived—carrying weapons not from this world. And that his blood still walks among us."
A pause. Damian went quiet for a few seconds. His red eyes seemed to glow just a little more.
"But of course," he added with a crooked smile, "they're just legends."
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!
The bell rang sharply, and the students began to leave in a rush, their laughter and footsteps echoing down the hall.
Damian remained at his desk, gathering his things calmly. Once the room was empty, his expression shifted. He sighed, like something was weighing down his soul.
He exited through the teachers' back door and walked to his car—a sleek, black classic with tinted windows. He drove through the quiet streets of Black Hollow, where the houses were old, the streetlights rusty, and time felt like it was frozen.
At home, he slipped off his leather gloves. A faintly glowing symbol was etched into the palm—hidden to most, but always there.
He walked to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. His eyes were a deeper red than usual. For a split second, he thought he saw someone else behind him in the reflection. He blinked. Gone.
"Relax... It's just the festival," he muttered.
He collapsed onto the couch. But just before closing his eyes, he felt a small tremor in his chest. Like a whisper from deep within. Like something ancient… awakening.
And in the silence of his soul,
…the system whispered its first message:
[Blood Diary – Sync Progress: 2%]
Damian slowly rose from the couch, his gaze fixed on the empty air.
The message floated in his mind like a voice recorded in his blood:
[Notification: Altered DNA detected. Latent inheritance unlocked.]
His breathing quickened, but his face remained expressionless. Years of combat experience had made his mind something unshakable.He knew about the weapon of his family. He knew he would obtain it, even if only a select few within his bloodline could awaken it.He had felt it for years.Since his grandfather's death.Since he was left alone in the world with a legacy no human could understand.
He walked to his room, opened a hidden compartment beneath the wooden floor, and pulled out an old black iron box.Dusty. Cold. Engraved with the symbol of his lineage: a broken cross surrounded by runes.
His grandfather had told him what was inside: a key — a key that unlocked the weapon and, with it, would awaken great power.
The moment Damian touched the box without gloves, his tattoo —a birthmark he'd had since birth— began to burn.
The box opened, and inside was not only the key, but also what appeared to be a journal...
Blood Journal — it wasn't just a book.It held records written by generations of hunters from his family... including Gabriel Van Helsing, his direct ancestor.Pages marked with blood, spells, creatures, and secrets that no human should ever know.
After setting it aside, he focused only on the key.As he lifted it, a message appeared:
[Mixtec key obtained. Does the host wish to use it?]
Damian stared in surprise as the key disappeared from his hand.He replied:"Yes."
[Gabriel's bloodline unlocked. Beginning synchronization.][1%... 20%... 53%... 75%... 100%]
[Synchronization complete: Creature #01 — Alpha Lycanthrope][Symptoms: Increased strength, increased speed, enhanced resistance, night vision, heightened smell…]
Damian narrowed his eyes."It can't be..." — he murmured.He knew about his ancestor's bloodline, but he never thought it would awaken like this.
[Initial transformation in progress. Type: Alpha Lycanthrope — Pure Gene.]
Pain struck his chest like lightning.He bent forward, gasping, feeling his skin burn and his bones crack softly.
His tattoos —dark lines like burned branches— began to glow.They weren't just marks.They were seals.Hunter's seals, used to prevent witches from controlling his mind — or demons from possessing him.
Damian screamed.Not like a man…But like something else.Something wild.
He fell to his knees in front of the mirror, and for the first time, saw his reflection change.
His eyes turned completely crimson.His fangs elongated.His skin paled.Black veins spread across his neck like dark roots.
And then, as if the whole world fell silent...
[Ability unlocked: Hunting Sense / Level 1]
His body slowly returned to normal.He was still gasping, his knuckles bruised from the strain.But now he knew.
The bloodline ritual was complete.
Damian Hale was no longer just a hunter.He was a hybrid.A son of Van Helsing......and the creature he once swore to destroy.
And as night fell over the town,and the lanterns trembled in the October wind,the legends of Black Hollow stirred in their graves.
Because the true heir… had awakened.