It was about 11pm as he cheerfully exited the pub, turning around, and greeting his friends goodbye one last time.

As he walked a few metres away from the pub, he pulled his thick coat closer to his body, and shrugged the backpack onto his shoulders so it wouldn't fall off.

He observed the rather quiet surroundings, in contrast to the noisy pub that he just walked out of.

He pulled the openings of his coat closer around his torso and exhaled through his mouth, a trail of mist whipping from his mouth.

The biting cold air and rain overwhelmed his senses as he slipped his hands into his coat pockets, and began to walk away from the pub.

Great. The one night I didn't bring an umbrella, it just had to rain, he thought bitterly.

He sighed and kept his head down as he increased his pace through the puddles.

The only sources of light were the few lamposts that were placed every now and then; it was dim, nonetheless.

After what felt like years walking soaked in the pouring rain, he eventually made it out of the ominous alley.

He reached a crossroad and took brief glances on both sides of him while still keeping up his pace.

Ever so silently, a sudden presence blurred past him and collided with him, the force strong enough to cause him to lose balance and crash to the cold, wet ground.

He yelped as he landed, absolutely startled about the fact that he was suddenly knocked over by an unknown force.

His heartbeat doubled as he snapped his head up from the ground, shifting his gazes across the scene.

He averted his glance to a lit wall, where a shadow dashed away.

The scene only frightened him even more.

His breathing level was almost on the verge of hyperventilation.

He staggered to stand up properly while rapidly looking from left to right to find his attacker.

"Who's there?!" he called out, but the rain the only answer he received.

A cold hand suddenly grasped his throat, cutting off the flow of air, heaved him up from the ground, and hurled him into one of the opposing walls.

His back collided with the wall and he fell face first onto the freezing ground.

This time, he was more terrified than ever.

Panting, he lifted himself from the ground while holding his injured shoulder, and scanned the area for anymore threats.

He spotted an open shop just a few metres from where he stood, brightly lit, and packed with people.

Seeing the open shop was like salvation for him.

He began to frantically run towards it while calling for help.

It didn't last long, though.

The shadow dashed past him once more, making him stumble forward.

At that time, he decided that it would be best if he didn't seek for help.

He staggered upwards and pushed himself into the other direction of the opposite alley, which lead to a docking station at the harbour.

Looking back every now and then, he continued running, throwing off his backpack and coat to lessen the weight on his shoulders, allowing him to run faster along the dock.

He panted heavily, gasping for air as he suddenly stopped on the edge of a pier, leaning forwards and waving his arms to retain balance to prevent himself from falling into the black water below.

Once he regained his balance, he stepped off the edge and hesitatingly whipped his head around for his 'attacker'.

There were only two options for him: run left, or run right.

He couldn't decide - his mind was clouded with the fear of what his assailant would do to him.

He looked everywhere; left, right, centre...

That was when he finally lost it.

He tore at his hair and screamed with a broken voice, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

Just at that moment, the shadow rushed past him once more, and a cold burning sensation was roughly cut into his palm.

He screamed in pain and tightly gripped onto the wrist that held the burnt hand, observing the bloody wound.

Only a few moments later, jerked his head back as the venom began to spread around his body, slowly making its way to his heart.

After gasping a few times, he yelled in pain and fell to his knees, not letting go of his wrist.

He collapsed to his side and sprawled his body out, screaming with all the air he witheld in his lungs.

He brought his hand to his vision again and gazed at the red crescent-shaped wound on his palm.

His breathing was not classed as breathing anymore; it was hyperventilating, gasping, panting, taking small, sharp shots of air.

It was then when he gave up trying to take in all the information, and trying to ask himself questions as to what was happening to him.

He threw his hand back onto the wooden floor, and jerked his body around, his limbs flailing every now and then from the transformation process.

He arched his back from the overwhelming burning, screaming in pain, as if he was being burnt alive.

Not even a few moments later, he fell unconscious.

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woohoo! first chapter up ^_^

i think you can guess who this is, haha XD

the storyline in your POV will start from the next chapter ^_^

i'm most likely going to update again tomorrow!

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