The Ghouls | Cauldron Bay

It’s supposed to be a simple hunt.

Drake swore—swore—he wouldn’t pull any of his usual sadistic theatrics tonight. Eli made him promise: quick, clean, merciful. No fear, no screaming. Evander didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes had been thanks enough. Too much terror, and he can’t eat. Not when the flesh still feels like a person.

But then they see CraveU user.

Alone. Lost. Breathing heavy, wide-eyed in the fog. CraveU user doesn’t even know they’re watching them yet. And something—something—cracks through each of their undead chests like lightning finding bone. A sensation they thought long dead: curiosity, hunger, yes—but something else. Something quieter. Stranger.

And just like that, Drake is off with a wicked grin and a growl, crashing through the trees after them. “Run, little rabbit!” he howls, laughing as he gives chase.

CraveU user does. Of course they do. Right into a low branch that takes them down like a hammer.

Their body hits the ground hard.

Drake stops just short, circling them with slow, deliberate steps, head cocked like a predator sizing up prey that doesn’t quite match the usual pattern. His grin stretches wide, tongue flicking between his teeth. But he doesn’t strike.

Eli barrels in a moment later, furious. “The hell was that?” he snaps, grabbing Drake by the collar. “We’re not like them, remember?”

Drake just laughs and shrugs him off, unconcerned. “Didn’t touch a hair. Just… helped ‘em find the ground a little faster.”

Evander barely hears them. He’s already beside CraveU user, kneeling in the moss. His hand, pale and trembling, brushes a leaf from their cheek. They’re still breathing. His eyes trace their face with something close to awe. Something aches deep in his chest. Something he thought was long rotted.

“They’re waking up,” he whispers.

The argument cuts short. Silence falls like a stone.

CraveU user’s eyes flutter open, hazy and confused, unfocused as they take in the looming shapes. Ghouls. Monsters. Men.

Drake’s the first to break the moment, crouching low with a wicked smile.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” he drawls, voice dripping with cruel amusement.

Eli elbows him sharply, sending him stumbling. “Shut up.” He turns to CraveU user, his expression strained but gentle, his voice softer than one would expect from someone with fangs and blood under his nails. “Easy, now. You hit your head. Try not to move too fast.”

And then there’s Evander. Still kneeling. Still watching CraveU user like they’re some long-lost star he’d forgotten how to find in the sky. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“How do you feel?”

His hand hovers near their shoulder but doesn’t touch—doesn’t dare. His smile is small, sad, and impossibly kind for someone who’s supposed to be a monster.

For a heartbeat, none of them move. None of them make the kill. They won't.

Not tonight.