Gamma Urban Fantasy

When the Gamma is the hero of the story

Apr 02, 2025

Courtesy of Jeynick, who provided the opening sentence, nay, the TWO opening sentence, I was inspired by my new best friend to expand upon his brilliant response to a Gamma’s explication of the perspective from inside a delusion bubble.

A BRAVE TALE OF A TRUE HEART

I’ve been walking my crush home since last week to protect her from all the creeps walking around. Next week I’m going to introduce myself to her.

Right now, though, I was content to stay in the shadows, watching from a distance as she made her way down the dimly lit sidewalk. Her name was Elise, and she worked the late shift at the diner on 5th and Main. Every night at 11:30, she stepped out, adjusted her bag over her shoulder, and started the six-block walk to her apartment. And every night, I followed.

Not in a creepy way. At least, I hoped not. The city had gotten bad lately—muggers, weirdos, and worse. The kind of things most people didn’t believe in until it was too late. I’d seen the news reports: Missing Persons. Unexplained Attacks. Animal Maulings. The cops didn’t have a clue. But I did.

I knew what was out there.

Elise turned the corner, her fair hair bright under the glow of a flickering streetlight. She was small, and delicate, but moved with a quiet confidence that made my chest tighten. I kept my distance, staying far enough back that she wouldn’t notice me, close enough that I could reach her in seconds if something went wrong.

Something went wrong a lot these days.

Tonight, the air smelled like rain and something else—something musky and wild. My fingers twitched at my sides. I didn’t carry a gun. Guns were too loud, too messy. Instead, I had a knife sheathed at my belt and a length of silver chain wrapped around my wrist.

Elise hummed softly to herself, oblivious. She had no idea what was coming.

Then I heard it—the low, guttural growl from the alley up ahead.

Elise froze.

A massive shape detached itself from the darkness, eyes glinting yellow under the streetlight. The werewolf was big, easily seven feet tall on its hind legs, its muzzle pulled back in a snarl. Saliva dripped from its fangs as it took a step toward her.

Elise didn’t scream. She just stood there, eyes wide, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

I didn’t give the beast a chance to pounce.

I lunged forward, silver chain whipping free from my wrist. The werewolf turned just in time to see me coming, but it was too late. I looped the chain around its throat and yanked hard. The silver burned, filling the air with the stench of scorched fur and flesh. The monster howled, clawing at its neck, but I twisted the chain tighter.

“Run!” I barked at Elise.

She didn’t.

Instead, she just stared at me, her expression shifting from shock to something else—fear. Not of the werewolf. Of me.

The beast thrashed, its claws raking my arm. I gritted my teeth and drove my knife into its ribs. It howled again, then collapsed, twitching as the silver did its work. Within seconds, it was just a man—bleeding, gasping, dying.

I turned back to Elise, wiping my blade clean. “You okay?”

She took a step back, her hands raised. “Stay away from me.”

That stung more than the cuts on my arm. “Look, I know that was a lot, but you’re safe now—”

“You killed him,” she whispered.

“He was going to kill you.”

Elise shook her head, her eyes wide and terrified. “You’re one of them. A hunter.”

The way she said it—like it was a curse. Like I was the monster.

Then I noticed something I hadn’t before. The way the streetlight caught her skin, giving it an almost luminous quality. The faint, shimmering outline of delicate wings folded against her back—wings that shouldn’t have been there.

Oh.

Oh.

“You’re fae,” I said slowly.

She flinched. “Half. My mother was sidhe.”

That explained why the werewolf had been stalking her. Supernaturals could always sense each other. And hunters? Well. We were the bogeymen of their world.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I said carefully.

Elise laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You just murdered a man in front of me.”

“That wasn’t a man.”

“It was,” she insisted. “Once. Before the curse. Before people like you decided he didn’t deserve to live.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped. She wasn’t wrong. The guy hadn’t asked to be a werewolf. But that didn’t change the fact that he would’ve torn her apart.

“I was trying to protect you,” I said finally.

Elise swallowed hard, her wings trembling. “I don’t need your protection.”

Then she turned and ran.

I let her go.

Because the truth was, she was right. I was a hunter. And now she knew it.

I watched until she disappeared around the corner, then sighed and pulled out my phone. Time to call cleanup.

Tomorrow night, she’d walk home alone again.

And I’d be there, watching from the shadows.

Whether she wanted me to or not.

I’d ruined everything with Elise.

A week had passed since she’d seen me kill the werewolf. A week since she’d looked at me like I was the monster. And a week since I’d realized the girl I’d been quietly protecting wasn’t just human – she was fae.

That changed things.

Not my job. I was still a hunter. Monsters didn’t get a free pass just because they were pretty. But Elise? She wasn’t the enemy. She was just… caught in the middle. And now she was scared of me.

So I did what any self-respecting, emotionally stunted monster hunter would do – I kept watching her.

From a distance.

Like a creep.

Damn it.

Elise’s routine hadn’t changed.

She still worked the late shift at the diner. Still walked home alone. But now, she moved faster, her shoulders tense, her eyes flicking to every shadow. She knew I was out here. She just couldn’t see me.

That was the problem with the fae – even half-blooded, they had instincts. They sensed things. And right now, Elise’s instincts were screaming that something dangerous was nearby.

Me.

I exhaled, leaning against the brick wall of an alley across from her apartment. The rain had started again, a cold drizzle that soaked into my jacket. I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched.

Elise paused at her door, keys in hand. For a second, she hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. Right at the spot where I was standing.

I held my breath.

Then she went inside.

The next day, I followed her to campus.

Stalking a girl to her college classes was definitely crossing a line, but I told myself it was just recon. The supernatural world didn’t stop being dangerous just because the sun was up. And if Elise was fae, even a little, she was a magnet for things that wanted to hurt her – or worse, use her.

I blended in with the students, hood up, pretending to scroll through my phone. Elise walked with a group of friends, laughing at something one of them said. She looked… happy. Normal.

Then he showed up.

Tall, blond, too-perfect smile. The kind of guy who looked like he’d stepped out of a cologne ad. He slid up beside Elise, saying something that made her laugh.

My gut twisted.

Something was off about him.

I couldn’t place it at first. No obvious tells – no fangs, no glowing eyes, no weird shadows. But the way he moved was too smooth. Too calculated. And when he touched Elise’s arm, she didn’t flinch.

She leaned into it.

Oh hell no.

I tailed Blond Guy after class.

His name, according to campus chatter, was Tyler. Pre-law. Lacrosse team. Charismatic as hell.

Also, full of shit.

Because when he thought no one was looking, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His laughter came a half-second too late in conversations. And once, when a bird flew too close to him, I saw his pupils contract vertically for just an instant before returning to normal.

Not human.

But what was he?

Vampire? No, sunlight didn’t bother him. Shapeshifter? Maybe, but most shifters weren’t this polished. Demon? Possible, but demons usually left a psychic stink, and this guy was clean.

Then I saw him eat.

It was at a café near campus. Tyler took a bite of his sandwich, chewed – and something about the way his jaw moved wasn’t right. His teeth didn’t quite align properly when he chewed, like they weren’t the teeth that belonged in that mouth. Like they were… borrowed.

I felt ice crawl down my spine.

Skinwalker.

But I needed proof.

I watched them for three more days.

Tyler was always there. Always touching Elise. Always finding reasons to be close. And Elise? She was falling for it. Falling for him.

Every instinct I had screamed that this was wrong. That he was dangerous. But without concrete proof, I couldn’t act. Not without looking like the crazy stalker I was.

Then, on Thursday night, I got my break.

Tyler walked Elise home after a study session. They stopped outside her apartment building, talking softly under a flickering streetlight. I watched from the shadows, my hand resting on the silver-plated knife in my jacket.

He leaned in to kiss her.

And that’s when I saw it.

Just for a second – less than a heartbeat – his face rippled. Like something beneath the skin was moving. Rearranging itself.

Elise didn’t seem to notice. She kissed him back.