Orc in the modern world

Jason trudged away from the gas station, the hoodie doing little to hide his hulking frame. Each step felt heavier than the last as the weight of his new reality bore down on him. The neon lights of the station faded into the night behind him, replaced by dim streetlights that stretched into the distance.

'What now?' he thought, gripping the edges of the hood. 'I can't go home like this. Can't go anywhere like this.'

The eldritch whispers slithered through his mind like serpents in murky water.

'You are no longer bound by human limits. Embrace the power. Open the Rift. Summon your kin.'

Jason clenched his fists, sharp claws digging into his palms. 'Not yet. I don't even know what I'm capable of.'

The city came into view as he turned onto a larger street. The skyline loomed in the distance, shimmering with countless lights. Closer, a worn-down diner stood at the corner. Through the windows, he saw only a handful of patrons. His stomach growled.

'Can I even eat human food now?' he wondered. 'Or am I stuck eating... what? Souls? Blood?' The thought made him shudder.

Jason crossed the street and ducked into the alley beside the diner. He crouched in the shadows, trying to remain unseen.

The door to the kitchen opened, and a young woman in a grease-stained apron stepped out, carrying a trash bag. She flinched when she saw Jason's towering figure.

"Jesus!" she gasped, dropping the bag.

"Sorry," Jason said quickly, raising his hands. "I... I'm lost."

Her eyes darted to his tusks, then his glowing eyes. "What the hell are you?" she asked, voice trembling.

Jason hesitated. The whispers hissed, urging him to act.

'Control her mind. Make her bend. Take what you need.'

"I'm not here to hurt you," Jason said instead. "I just... need some help."

The woman's hand hovered near her pocket. "Help with what?"

"Food," he said. "And... answers."

She studied him for a moment, then exhaled. "Stay here." She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a brown paper bag. "It's leftovers," she said, handing it to him. "Now go."

Jason took the bag, the warmth of the food seeping into his fingers. "Thank you."

He retreated into the shadows of the alley. Once he felt safe, he sat on a crate and opened the bag. Burgers and fries. He devoured them, the taste familiar but strange. The hunger eased but did not vanish.

The whispers stirred.

'You hunger for power. Flesh is a shadow of what you could consume.'

Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and forced the voices aside.

He closed his eyes and focused inward, searching the well of power the voices spoke of. The eldritch magic stirred beneath his skin—formless, chaotic. The fel magic, however, was more structured, like molten fire coursing through his veins.

Instinctively, he raised a hand and traced a sigil in the air. Green energy crackled, forming a floating rune that pulsed with malevolent life. Jason felt the fabric of reality thin, as though he could push through it.

'Summon them,' the voices urged. 'Your brothers and sisters wait beyond the veil. The Horde will answer your call.'

Jason hesitated. The temptation was overwhelming. To not be alone anymore. To have allies in this strange, unforgiving world.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. The sigil shattered, the magic dissipating.

"Not yet," he whispered. "Not until I understand what I'm dealing with."

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure watching him from across the street. A man in a dark suit with reflective sunglasses. The man held a phone to his ear and appeared to be speaking while staring directly at Jason.

Jason's heart raced. 'They're already watching me.'

The man gave a slight nod and spoke into the phone.

Jason shot to his feet and sprinted down the alley. Footsteps followed. The chase had begun.