Ethan's boots skidded on the wet pavement as the anaconda lunged again, its jaws a blur of fangs and muscle. He twisted, the screwdriver slashing out from his pocket, but it glanced off the snake's scales, leaving only a shallow scratch. The beast hissed, its head rearing back, coils tightening around the tangled rope it had yanked from his shoulder. Ethan's heart pounded, [Enhanced Tracking] flooding his senses with its presence—musk, damp scales, the faint tang of venom. It was huge, at least twenty feet long, its body a wall of rippling power.
He backed up, eyes darting for an escape. The street was a dead end—crumpled cars and debris blocked one side, a collapsed storefront the other. The anaconda slithered forward, cutting off his retreat to the alley. Ethan's mind raced. He'd taken down raptors and a lizard with brute force, but this was different. This thing could crush him before he got a swing in.
The snake struck, faster than he'd expected. Ethan dove, rolling under a parked van as its jaws snapped shut inches from his legs. The impact shook the vehicle, metal groaning as the anaconda's head slammed into it. Ethan scrambled out the other side, gripping the screwdriver like a lifeline. He needed a plan—something better than stabbing at scales tougher than steel.
[Enhanced Tracking] pinged again, sharper now, zeroing in on the snake's movements. He could feel its rhythm—the way it coiled, the flicker of its tongue tasting the air. Its eyes were locked on him, cold and unblinking, but there was something else: a faint heat radiating from its underbelly, softer than the armored top. A weak spot, maybe.
Ethan sprinted toward the collapsed storefront, leaping over shattered glass and broken shelves. The anaconda followed, its body smashing through debris like it was nothing. He spotted a jagged piece of rebar sticking from a chunk of concrete—rusted, but sharp. He grabbed it, wrenching it free with a grunt, his enhanced strength making the effort easier than it should've been.
The snake lunged again, and Ethan swung the rebar like a spear, aiming for its mouth. It caught the tip, snapping the metal in half, but the distraction gave him a heartbeat to move. He darted to its side, flipping the broken rebar in his hand, and drove it upward into the softer scales beneath its jaw. The point sank deep, blood spraying hot across his face. The anaconda thrashed, its tail whipping around and slamming into his ribs.
Ethan hit the ground hard, air rushing from his lungs. Pain flared, sharp and bright, but that endurance boost kept him conscious. He rolled away as the snake's coils flailed, the rebar still lodged in its flesh. It hissed, weaker now, blood pooling beneath it. Ethan staggered to his feet, clutching the screwdriver—his last weapon—and charged.
He leapt onto its back, dodging a sluggish snap of its jaws, and plunged the screwdriver into its eye. The blade sank to the hilt, and the anaconda convulsed, its massive body thrashing once, twice, then going still. Ethan slid off, landing in a heap, chest heaving as he stared at the dead monster.
The voice broke through the haze:
[Monster slain: Giant Anaconda]
[Attributes Gained: +3 Agility]
[Skills Gained: Enhanced Tracking → Predator Sense]
[Rewards Gained: Title Unlocked: Serpent Slayer]
A surge coursed through him—his legs felt lighter, his reflexes sharper, like he could dodge a bullet if he had to. The new skill pulsed in his mind, [Predator Sense] overlaying his vision with instincts he didn't fully understand: the anaconda's dying spasms, the faint tremble of other threats nearby, all crystal clear. And the title—[Serpent Slayer]—settled like a weight in his chest, a promise of something more.
He wiped the blood from his face, wincing as he pressed a hand to his ribs. Bruised, maybe cracked, but he could still move. The rope was ruined, shredded in the snake's coils, but he salvaged a few feet of it, tying it around his waist. The rebar was bent beyond use, and the screwdriver was stuck in the anaconda's skull. He'd have to find something else soon.
The couple he'd helped earlier was gone, hopefully safe. Ethan glanced at the sky—still fractured with that crimson scar, no stars in sight. Dawn was hours away, and Mia was still out there. He pushed the pain down and started east again, sticking to the shadows of the warehouse district.
[Predator Sense] hummed, warning him of movement ahead. He crouched behind a rusted shipping container, peering out. A pack of dire wolves—six of them—prowled the street, sniffing at a overturned bike. Their fur bristled, teeth bared as they growled at each other. Ethan's breath caught. He could take one, maybe two, but six? Not without a weapon.
He scanned the area. A broken pallet leaned against the container, splintered but sturdy enough to climb. He edged toward it, moving silent as his new agility allowed, and hauled himself up. The wolves didn't notice, too busy snapping over scraps. From the container's top, he spotted a fire escape on the next building—a straight shot to the rooftops. If he could stay high, he'd avoid the streets altogether.
He leapt, landing with a soft thud, and climbed the rungs. The city sprawled below him, a patchwork of chaos. Smoke rose from burning buildings, screams pierced the air, and shadows moved—some human, some not. [Predator Sense] picked out a massive shape in the distance, lumbering through the warehouse district—a bear, maybe, or something worse. Ethan shivered. He'd deal with that when he had to.
For now, he had a path. The college was closer, maybe three miles now. He could feel Mia out there, a pull he couldn't explain—maybe the system, maybe just hope. Either way, he wasn't stopping.
A distant roar shook the night, and Ethan tightened his fists. "Hold on, Mia," he whispered. "I'm coming."