Raven's War

The car ride into the city was tense, filled with an oppressive silence that seemed to weigh on Petrillo's chest. Haatim's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, while Frieda stared out the window, her face a mask of grim determination.

The city lights blurred past as Haatim drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The silence in the car grew heavier with each passing minute until finally, Petrillo couldn't take it anymore.

Frieda and Damien burst through the underbrush, their faces etched with worry. They skidded to a halt when they saw Petrillo standing alone by the car, his eyes wide with fear and guilt.

Emma's heart pounded in her chest as she crept through the underbrush, her eyes fixed on the hulking figure ahead. The woman's muffled cries grew fainter, and Emma knew she had to act fast.

Haatim, Damien, and Frieda approached the dilapidated cabin with practiced stealth. The rotting wood creaked beneath their feet as they entered, the stench of decay assaulting their senses.

The sun had nearly disappeared behind the treeline when Haatim finally pulled the car onto a narrow, overgrown dirt road. They drove for another few minutes before coming to a stop in a small clearing. A lone figure stood waiting, his silhouette barely visible in the fading light.

As they sped down the highway, Frieda twisted in her seat to face Petrillo and Emma in the back. Her expression was grim, all traces of the earlier training session's levity gone.

The morning's surprise combat session set the tone for the rest of the day. Haatim and Frieda put Petrillo and Emma through their paces, drilling them on everything from hand-to-hand combat to demon lore. By the time the sun reached its zenith, both young Hunters were exhausted but exhilarated.

Petrillo jolted awake, his heart racing. The digital clock on his nightstand read 5:37 AM, its red numbers glowing accusingly in the darkness. He'd been having that dream again – the one where he was running from something he couldn't see, his legs moving in slow motion as if trapped in molasses.