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In a world where strength decides survival and mercy is seen as weakness, legends are born in blood.

Bloodfang is the name whispered in fear across the northern territories—a monstrous wolf, larger than any beast known to man, with eyes like burning embers and fangs stained by centuries of slaughter. No one knows whether Bloodfang is a creature, a curse, or a punishment sent by fate itself. Entire battalions have vanished while hunting him. Villages have been reduced to silence overnight. To most, Bloodfang is death in its purest form.

She, on the other hand, is nothing but a human—at least on the surface.

A trained underground fighter, hardened by loss and shaped by violence, she has spent her life in cages, arenas, and battle pits where pain is entertainment and survival is a privilege. Raised without mercy and taught never to trust, she fights not for glory, but to stay alive. Her body carries scars; her mind carries memories far worse. When a powerful faction places an impossible bounty on Bloodfang’s head, she is chosen for one reason only—she doesn’t know how to quit.

Her mission is simple: track the beast, kill it, and bring back proof.

What she finds in the frozen wilderness is not what the stories promised.

Bloodfang is intelligent. Ancient. Bound by a curse older than kingdoms. Each full moon pushes him closer to losing himself, and every kill feeds the monster he is desperately trying to restrain. When hunter and hunted finally collide, the battle shakes the land—but it does not end in death. Instead, fate binds them together through blood, instinct, and a truth neither of them is ready to face.

As enemies close in and secrets unravel, the fighter girl learns that Bloodfang was never the real monster. The world that created him is.

Their connection grows dangerous, primal, and forbidden—part alliance, part war, part something neither can name. Together, they must face ruthless hunters, ancient laws, and the curse that threatens to consume them both. Because if Bloodfang fully loses control, kingdoms will fall. And if she fails to choose between her mission and her heart, she may become the very thing she was trained to destroy.

Bloodfang is a dark fantasy of violence, loyalty, and survival—where love is a risk, power comes at a price, and monsters are not always born… they are made.

Ik

Ko

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Ch 1 • The Last Voice Note

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The rain hadn’t stopped for three nights straight. It drummed endlessly on the cracked windows of the Central Bureau office, drowning out the city’s noise. Detective Arjun Rao sat alone at his desk, staring at the flickering waveform on his laptop screen — a single voice note, thirty-eight seconds long. The girl who sent it had vanished six days ago.

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Her name was Rhea Malhotra, nineteen years old, college student, last seen leaving a café near Connaught Place. Her mother received one final message from her that night. A voice note. No words — just breathing, a few distorted clicks, and then a whisper that froze everyone who heard it.

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“He’s inside the signal.”

After that, nothing. Her phone went offline, her social accounts wiped clean. The police called it a runaway case, maybe a kidnapping. But Arjun knew better. He’d seen this before — not the same message, but the same pattern.

He leaned closer to the waveform on his laptop, pressing play again. The voice note filled the room with faint static, like a radio trying to catch a dying station. Then came the whisper — so faint it almost sounded digital. He adjusted the frequency filters, boosting the low-end noise.

There.

A hidden frequency spike — rhythmic, structured, almost like Morse code.

Arjun’s heart thudded once. “Someone embedded data inside this audio,” he muttered.

He connected his laptop to the forensic decoder, running a quick pattern match. As the algorithm decrypted the sound, the waveform shifted — rearranging into fragments of binary code. Seconds later, a hidden string appeared on-screen:

“Find the Echo Tower.”

Arjun frowned. The Echo Tower — an abandoned telecommunication building outside Delhi, decommissioned years ago after a tower fire. It had been shut down after reports of strange interference affecting nearby radios.

Coincidence? He didn’t believe in those.

He zipped his raincoat, slipped his Glock into the holster, and stepped out. The city was a blur of neon and rain, taxis moving like fireflies through puddles. His phone buzzed — his junior officer, Inspector Nisha Mehta.

“Sir, still working on the Malhotra case?”

“Yeah,” Arjun replied, starting the car. “I just got a lead. Meet me near the old Echo Tower in an hour.”

“Echo Tower? That place’s been sealed for years.”

“I know. That’s why it’s interesting.”

The road leading to the outskirts was empty, only the rhythmic wipers breaking the silence. Arjun couldn’t shake the unease creeping in his gut. “He’s inside the signal.” The phrase kept looping in his mind. What if Rhea wasn’t speaking metaphorically? What if someone was inside the network?

He parked near the gate of the derelict tower complex. The place was half-eaten by rust and vines, surrounded by a chain-link fence that barely stood anymore. The air smelled of ozone and wet concrete.

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He clicked on his flashlight.

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The tower rose above him like a black skeleton, its upper half lost in the fog. For a second, the rain quieted — replaced by a low humming sound, faint but constant, like a radio frequency leaking into his ears. He checked his phone: No Signal.

Nisha arrived minutes later, headlights cutting through the mist. “Sir, you sure we’re not trespassing into something dangerous?” she said, stepping out with her flashlight.

“Everything dangerous starts with curiosity,” he muttered.

They ducked under the fence, boots crunching over wet gravel. Inside, old cables and equipment littered the floor. Broken monitors flickered faintly with residual static. A faint blue light pulsed from the far corner — a still-functioning terminal.

Nisha frowned. “That shouldn’t have power.”

Arjun stepped closer. The screen glitched, showing a distorted text:

/RHEA/CONNECTED

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SIGNAL ID: 23B…ACTIVE

“Active?” Nisha gasped. “That can’t be—”

Before she could finish, the monitor emitted a high-pitched tone. Their flashlights flickered. The tower lights blinked once — and the faint hum grew louder.

Then, a sound echoed through the empty floor — a voice, faint and trembling.

“Detective Rao… help me…”

Arjun froze. “Rhea?”

The sound seemed to come from everywhere — the wires, the walls, even their devices. Nisha’s walkie crackled with static before the same voice whispered again:

“He’s… watching… the signal…”