Blood In The Night

Sirens carved through the night like banshees.

A boy ran through the rain-slick streets, breath ragged, shoes slapping against concrete. His lungs burned; his heart threatened to burst through his ribs. A police car swept past the alley entrance, red and blue lights bleeding across the walls.

Rei pressed himself into the shadows, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. The metal taste of blood clung to his tongue, the echo of gunfire still pounding in his skull. His shaking hand gripped the wall beside him, smearing a crimson stain he didn’t notice until it was too late.

His breath hitched.

“I’m… a Freak.”

Some time before.

The final bell shrieked through the school halls like freedom. Desks scraped, chatter exploded, and laughter spilled into the air as students poured toward the exits. To them, school was a cage finally unlatched for the day.

At the gate, two boys split paths.

“See you tomorrow, Rei!”

The blond one waved, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

Rei offered a small, crooked smile in return before shoving his hands into his pockets. His friend’s birthday was tomorrow—his eighteenth. The day every student dreaded.

Judgment day. Once a person turns eighteen they gets tested if their blood is that of a human or a Freak, upon becoming a freak you get ripped of all rights and lose your role as human.

Rei walked alone beneath the pale afternoon sun, sneakers clicking against the cracked sidewalk.

the boy’s excitement amazed him. If it were me turning eighteen tomorrow… I’d be terrified.

Rei’s eyes flicked to a camera perched above the crosswalk—one of hundreds that now lined the city. Little red dots blinked down like unblinking eyes.

A year ago, there’d been only a few in public areas. Now they were everywhere. Schools. Parks. Even playgrounds. Anywhere young people gathered—because at eighteen, your blood decided what you were.

Normal. Or Freak.

Rei adjusted his backpack and kept walking.

The government said it was for safety. Most people believed them. When Freaks first started appearing, they were rare—one in a few thousand. But the numbers grew. Now, almost every class had at least one. And though not all were dangerous, fear didn’t care for nuance.

He passed a wall plastered with posters. Mugshots of men and women, some slashed through with red lines, others stamped with rewards:

100,000 yen. 500,000 yen. 1,000,000 yen.

Bounties for the gifted. A manhunt disguised as justice.

Rei frowned. “Guess they’ve gotten better at finding them,” he muttered under his breath. “Not sure that’s a good or bad thing.”

He kicked a stray can down the subway steps leading to Station Nine. The metallic clang echoed faintly as he descended.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of machinery and damp concrete. People stood in lines, checking phones, talking softly, pretending everything was normal. Rei slipped in his earbuds, drowning out the noise with the muffled thrum of music.

For a moment, life seemed almost peaceful.

He never saw the man coming.

A scream tore through the crowd first—then the pounding of boots. Rei blinked, pulling out an earbud just as a figure in a dark coat barreled toward him, bleeding heavily from the side.

The man slammed into him. The impact drove the breath from Rei’s lungs as he staggered against a pillar. Warmth splashed across his face—blood.

“Sorry, kid,” the man rasped.

The apology barely left his lips before a gunshot cracked the air.

The man jerked forward, eyes wide, a bloom of red spreading across his chest. He collapsed. The crowd froze for a heartbeat—then chaos erupted.

Armed officers flooded the station. Shouts bounced off the tiled walls. And then—more gunfire.

“Down! Down!” someone screamed, but the police didn’t aim at people anymore. They emptied their magazines into the corpse on the ground.

The sound was deafening.

Rei ran. Instinct screamed louder than reason. He shoved through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs two at a time. The moment he burst onto the street, cold air hit him like a slap. He didn’t stop running—not until the gunfire had faded behind him.

When his legs finally gave out, he collapsed against a wall, panting, throat raw. The city lights blurred through his tears and sweat.

“What the hell…” he coughed, and something metallic flooded his mouth.

He spat onto the pavement. A dark streak of red followed. He must’ve swallowed some of the man’s blood during the chaos. The thought made his stomach twist.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Great. Just great.”

His fingers trembled as he reached into his bag, pulling out his gym towel. He scrubbed at his face, trying to erase the stains, then changed into his gym shirt. The scent of iron clung stubbornly to him.

“Now I just look like I had a bad workout,” he muttered, forcing a weak laugh.

He turned toward another station several blocks away. His mind buzzed with static. What had just happened? Why had they shot a dead man? Was he a freak?

The walk felt endless. Streetlights hummed overhead, the world unnervingly calm again, as if the city itself had already forgotten the violence underground.

By the time Rei reached Station Four, the streets were empty. A single train waited with its doors open, the inside bathed in soft white light.

He boarded, choosing a seat by the window. His reflection looked pale, ghostly. He leaned his head against the cool glass, exhaling slowly.

The events replayed in flashes—

The man’s eyes.

The gunfire.

The blood.

He tried to focus on anything else. A pen from his bag rolled across the table in front of him, bumping gently against the edge.

He reached lazily for it—but before his fingers touched it, the pen stopped. It hovered, trembling, then settled perfectly still at the table’s rim, as if an invisible hand had caught it.

The train rocked. The pen stayed balanced, motionless.

He stared for several seconds before snatching it, stuffing it back into his pocket