Chapter 3

Ella's POV

"Whatever you're talking about, I'm not interested! Now, immediately, get out of my house!"

I glared at the man before me, my body tensing violently.

"I don't want to get involved in any of that!"

The man stared at me. I could clearly feel him watching me.

The hair on my back stood on end, one by one, and sweat broke out on my forehead again. Then I heard him say—

"That's your first mistake."

My voice sounded as dry as sandpaper. "...I don't know what you're talking about."

The man laughed. "Do you know what ordinary people would say after hearing what I just said?"

"They would curse at me."

The man paused slightly. I froze.

"They would say I'm crazy. Say there's no such thing as monsters in this world. Liar, get lost, or I'll call the police."

"Only those who've seen those things would say they don't want to get involved."

He raised his hand and pointed at my neck.

Instinctively, I lifted my hand, wanting to cover it—to hide the bluish-yellow bruise on my neck, the mark left by someone's hands strangling me.

And the shallow cuts hidden under my clothes that I hadn't had time to treat yet.

All from what happened today, after I saved that boy.

"The things that hurt you—you've already seen them with your own eyes. Do you know what they are?"

I lowered my head and admitted quietly in my heart:

...Monsters.

"You've already stepped into this world. Are you still planning to run away?"

"You should join us. You carry the bloodline of hunters."

He said.

I moved my lips.

"...These injuries on me..." My dry throat finally managed to squeeze out a sound. I raised my head and met the man's gaze. "You could say I asked for them, or call it an accident. But—"

"You broke into my home illegally, deliberately said a bunch of nonsensical things, and even threatened me. How are you trustworthy?"

The man before me fell silent for a moment. "We mean no harm."

"Then leave my house." I stood up, walked over to open the door, and turned to look at the three of them. "My family will be back soon."

"I'm already exhausted today. I don't want to waste energy explaining to my family what happened."

Silence. Silence.

Finally, the man sighed and led the other two toward the door.

But just as he was about to leave, when I thought this whole thing was finally over, the man suddenly stopped and pulled out a business card, holding it in front of me.

"I'm very sorry for everything that happened."

"We never meant to hurt you."

I froze, not expecting him to actually apologize.

"But at least, please take this card. You'll want to contact us eventually."

"I won't." I answered stiffly.

"Just in case." The man's gaze was sincere as he sighed and said, "Sometimes, humans cannot escape certain things. We call it fate."

"Happy birthday, Ella."

The man placed the card on the table and left with the other two.

I closed the door, leaned my body against it, tilted my head back and took a deep breath. Then my legs gave way, and I dropped to the floor with a thud.

"Whew—"

Staring blankly at the ceiling, I thought to myself: this birthday had been way too fucking eventful.

I sat on the floor like that for a while.

Until my knees started to ache, and my parents came home from overtime work with a belated cake and dinner. Only then did I push myself up using the door.

In the living room where the three men had stood, my parents lit the birthday candles on my cake.

I secretly treated the wounds on my body, changed into a dress that could cover my neck, and sat in the dining chair where I'd nearly been scared to death. I clasped my hands together in front of my chest, closed my eyes, and made a wish.

Opening my eyes, my parents smiled and blessed me. "Happy birthday!"

"May our precious girl be happy and safe in her new year."

I lowered my head and smiled, blowing out the candles devoutly.

"I hope so too."

Hope... hope.

The hope lasted until I fell asleep.

Tap—tap!

Someone was knocking on my window.

The curtains were drawn, and the moonlight cast a tall shadow on them.

My breathing stopped before I even realized it. Holding my breath, I stared at that shadow, my heart jumping into my throat.

It was 11:58 PM. My room was on the third floor.

I certainly didn't know anyone who would come looking for me at this hour in this way!

"Shit!"

I carefully got out of bed, grabbed the heavy brass ornament from my nightstand, and slowly approached the window.

Suddenly, the shadow disappeared.

I froze. The brass ornament fell to the floor with a dull thud. I bent down, breathing heavily, then reached up, grabbed the curtain, and yanked it open!

Whoosh—

There was no one outside the window.

But there was something.

I lowered my gaze.

A paper package, medium-sized, on the roof outside my room.

The sky held a full moon like a disk, its bright light clearly illuminating the package's outline and texture—rough and bold, with an indescribable elegance.

I looked at it.

My heart pounded harder with each beat.

...I remembered.

Opening the paper package, I picked up the bottle inside and read the note on it—wound medicine.

Bold handwriting.

Unconsciously, I covered the bruise on my neck.

"..."

I recognized this handwriting.

The cliff-like breakup had been so brutal that I'd almost forgotten—there really had been someone who would come find me this way.

On nights with a full moon.

My eyes gradually reddened.

"—Conan Voss."

When I spoke that damned name, my voice was, damnably, even more nasal than I'd expected.