copy cat || paul lahote

a few days had passed since nora and paul had their talk, but it seemed like things had settled back into their old ways. the only real difference was that paul's usual menacing stares and sharp remarks had dulled—slightly. it wasn't much, but it was an improvement, she guessed. at least now, she could exist in the same space without feeling like she had to be on constant guard around him. it wasn't friendship, but maybe it was a truce.

for the past few weeks, nora threw herself into training, both physically and mentally. she was determined to figure out how to suppress whatever supernatural force had been fueling her abilities. if she wanted to achieve her goals as a runner, as an athlete, she needed to do it on her own terms. it wasn't easy—at first, her body resisted, craving the effortless power it had grown accustomed to. but she fought against it, forcing herself to train as any normal human would.

it took time, but she had finally mastered the art of keeping her body completely human—no extra bursts of unnatural speed, no endless stamina, no abilities that didn't belong to her. she grew tired faster, felt the deep ache in her muscles for days after long runs, and had to adjust her nutrition to properly fuel herself rather than relying on whatever strange energy had been sustaining her before. but it was worth it. the pain, the exhaustion, the struggle—it was all proof that she was doing this on her own. and for the first time in weeks, she felt fully alive, like she was finally chasing the thrill of pushing herself to the limit again.

in a reluctant attempt to mend things, she had even invited paul to come watch her race. it wasn't much, but it was an olive branch, a gesture of good faith. she hadn't expected him to say yes, but some small, hopeful part of her had still wished he would. when he declined, she told herself it didn't matter, but the dull pang of disappointment that settled in her chest suggested otherwise. still, she shook it off—she had bigger things to focus on.

now, standing at the starting line of the seattle marathon, she forced all of that aside, replacing it with pure adrenaline. the cool morning air buzzed with energy as thousands of athletes stood shoulder to shoulder, preparing to push themselves to their limits. thanks to her qualifying time, she had secured a spot near the front, among the more elite runners.

this was it. months—no, years—of training had led her to this moment, and she wasn't about to let anything, not even herself, take this from her.

the countdown began.

three.

she took a deep breath, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet.

two.

her fingers curled into fists, her heartbeat a steady drum in her ears.

one.

the gunshot rang out, and she surged forward, her body propelling her into motion with a fiery determination.

this was her race. her moment. and she was going to prove, to herself and to everyone else, that she could do this. no powers. no shortcuts. just her, her strength, and the road ahead.

nora's feet pounded against the pavement in rhythmic strides, her breath steady as she settled into her pace. the energy of the seattle marathon surrounded her—the excited chatter of spectators, the cheers of encouragement, and the steady beat of music filtering through different sections of the course. the crisp morning air mixed with the scent of damp asphalt from the recent drizzle, creating the perfect conditions for the race. she had trained for this moment—every long run, every early morning, every aching muscle had led to today. and now she was here, fully immersed in the challenge.

the first few miles flew by with ease, her body warm and strong as she passed mile markers one by one. twenty miles to go. the city blurred around her as she found her rhythm, her mind drifting into a meditative state. she focused on the road ahead, falling into the pattern of her breathing and the soft thud of her shoes hitting the pavement. the buzz of the crowd faded into background noise, replaced by the steady pulse of determination that kept her moving forward.

fifteen miles to go. a slight burn ignited in her legs, but she pushed through, keeping her pace even. she welcomed the discomfort, knowing it meant she was giving her all. running had always been her escape, the one thing in her life she could control. with each step, she reminded herself why she loved this—why she kept pushing herself beyond her limits.

ten miles to go. sweat dripped down her back as her body screamed for relief, but she refused to give in. the finish line was getting closer. the pain was temporary, but the accomplishment would last forever. she kept her focus, tuning out the fatigue and the growing ache in her joints. she had come too far to slow down now.

five miles to go. the exhaustion clawed at her, her lungs burning with every breath, but the energy of the race carried her forward. every part of her body begged for a break, yet she pushed harder, her competitive nature refusing to let her falter. she could hear the roar of the finish line crowd in the distance. almost there. just a little farther.

twenty-five miles down. less than one to go. her heart pounded in her chest as adrenaline surged through her, masking the pain. a strange, nagging feeling settled in her gut, she had been running faster from adrenaline, but she forced herself to ignore it. she could hear distant screams, but she had come too far to stop now. the finish line was in sight. she sprinted the last 1.2 miles, her body protesting with every step, but she kept going, faster and faster, until—

she crossed the finish line. 2:56. her best time yet. she wasn't expecting a sub three hours result, she couldn't believe it.

a triumphant wave of relief crashed over her as she slowed to a stop, her breath ragged but victorious. she had done it. first in her gender category. eighteenth overall. the fatigue barely registered as she received her medal, a wide smile stretching across her face. she couldn't wait to call her dad, to tell him she had done even better than she had hoped. he hadn't been able to come because of work, but she knew he would be proud of her no matter what.

then she saw them.

one of the race volunteers, staring at her with piercing red eyes.

her breath hitched. shit.

the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, every instinct screaming at her to run. but before she could react, a bloodcurdling scream split through the air. she whipped around just in time to see another volunteer collapse, a dark pool of blood rapidly spreading beneath them. the metallic scent hit her immediately, sharp and nauseating.

panic gripped her chest. without a second thought, she bolted, weaving through the crowd as fast as her exhausted legs could carry her. she needed to get to her car. now.

as she sped out of the area, she turned onto the road leading home—only to be met with a nightmare. a massive group of vampires—at least twenty—attacking helpless bystanders in the streets. the sight sent ice through her veins. limbs were torn, blood splattered across the pavement, screams echoed all around her. she had never seen so many of them together, not in broad daylight, not in the middle of a major city.

she slammed on the brakes, her mind racing. there was no way she could get through that. hands shaking, she yanked the wheel, taking the long route, her body trembling from both exhaustion and sheer terror. her breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed the car to its limits, her hands gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. every muscle ached, but she couldn't stop. she couldn't think about what she had just seen.

all she could do was get home.

and pray that whatever she had just witnessed wasn't the beginning of something far, far worse.