Shiin Hakai: Birth of the Eternal: Shin Hakai, #1

By Adam Earl

About the Author 

Adam Barrette has always been a storyteller. But it wasn't until recently that he decided to fully embrace his passion and bring his stories to life. "A Haunting at Blackwoods Cemetery" was just the beginning. 

Journey with him as he takes you to Japan where he once lived as a child in the military. And explore a story of wonder and the supernatural. In this new book Shiin Hakai: Birth of the Eternal. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adam Earl
• Release date: Apr 1, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230815853

Adam Earl

Adam Earl has always been a storyteller. Whether it was scribbling down poems as a kid or crafting entire worlds in his head, writing has been a natural extension of how he sees the world.   Born into a military family, Adam spent his childhood traveling the world with his parents, brother, and sister. Constantly moving from one place to another, he found comfort in books especially those that transported him to eerie, unsettling places.    Horror and suspense became his escape, and over time, they became his calling. Influenced by legends like Clive Barker and Stephen King, as well as the dark, gripping narratives of Ed Brubaker's comics, Adam developed a love for stories that linger in the mind long after the final page is turned.

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Birth of the Eternal Shadow (1581)

The year was 1581, and the war-torn lands of Japan reverberated with the clash of swords, the roar of cannons, and the cries of men dying for honor or ambition. Shiin Hakai, a shinobi of exceptional skill and an unwavering sense of duty, had been dispatched on a mission that could alter the fate of the nation. His target was none other than Oda Nobunaga, the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, whose campaign to unify Japan had left rivers of blood in its wake. Shiin had no illusions about the danger of this mission—assassinating Nobunaga was tantamount to walking into the maw of death itself.

Disguised in the robes of a lowly ashigaru, Shiin infiltrated Nobunaga’s encampment near the sacred slopes of Mount Hiei. The camp was a fortress of bustling activity, with soldiers sharpening their blades, scouts reporting enemy movements, and the scent of smoke and sweat hanging heavy in the air. Shiin waited until the dead of night when even the most vigilant guards would be dulled by fatigue. Under the cloak of darkness, he moved like a shadow, silent and swift, his blades glinting faintly in the moonlight.

The opportunity came when Nobunaga’s guards changed shifts, leaving a narrow window for Shiin to strike. He slipped into the general’s tent, his heart pounding like a war drum. There, Nobunaga sat, his back to the entrance, studying a map illuminated by a flickering lantern. Shiin drew his blade, its edge honed to lethal perfection. But as he lunged, the impossible happened Nobunaga turned, his movements unnaturally quick, his eyes gleaming with an eerie light. The strike meant to pierce his heart was intercepted by a concealed dagger. Nobunaga’s roar of fury summoned his guards, and chaos erupted.

Shiin fought like a man possessed, his blades slicing through armor and flesh alike. But the odds were insurmountable. He was outnumbered, surrounded by a sea of enemies, and his body began to betray him as wounds accumulated. An arrow pierced his side, a spear grazed his leg, and finally, a sword slashed deep into his shoulder. Blood poured from him, pooling beneath his feet. In his final act of defiance, Shiin hurled a smoke bomb, vanishing into the night like the phantom he had trained to become.

His escape was not triumphant. The forest swallowed him, his body faltering with every agonizing step. By the time he collapsed, the stars above seemed to blur into a swirling abyss. He thought he would die there, his mission a failure, his clan left to mourn his dishonor. But fate had other plans.

When Shiin awoke, he was no longer in the forest but inside a dimly lit cavern. The air was cold and damp, and the sound of water dripping echoed like a heartbeat. Standing over him was an old man with a gaunt face, his long white hair falling in tangled strands over his shoulders. His eyes were a piercing gold, ancient and inhuman. The man introduced himself as Hatsu, a hermit who had lived for centuries, hidden from the world.

You are not dead, Hatsu said in a voice as dry as autumn leaves. But neither are you alive. Tell me, young one, do you know what you are?

Shiin’s parched lips moved, but no sound came out. He felt his body, his wounds miraculously healed but his strength utterly foreign. His heart no longer beat, yet he was awake, aware, and overwhelmed by a searing thirst he couldn’t explain.

Hatsu chuckled, his voice carrying a mix of pity and amusement. You are now one of us—a kyūketsuki. A vampire. I found you on the brink of death, but I saw in you a shadow too stubborn to fade. So, I gave you a choice, though you were too far gone to answer. Live on as something greater or vanish into the nothingness you courted so recklessly.

Shiin’s mind reeled. A vampire? He had heard the legends, the whispered tales of immortal predators who fed on blood. He tried to stand, but his body was unsteady, as though learning to move anew.

Why? he finally rasped, his voice hollow.

Hatsu’s expression turned grave. Because the world needs men like you. Men who can walk between the light and the darkness. Nobunaga is not just a tyrant; he courts powers beyond human comprehension. You were already a shadow in life, Shiin Hakai. Now, you are the eternal shadow. A weapon to be wielded against a greater evil.

Shiin clenched his fists, his new claws digging into his palms. The thirst clawed at him, an unrelenting hunger that made his mouth ache. What have you done to me? he demanded, his voice rising with fury.

I have given you purpose, Hatsu replied calmly. And if you truly wish to strike down Nobunaga, you will need more than steel and skill. You will need power. The kind of power that comes at a price.

Over the following days, Shiin remained in the cavern, learning the truth of his transformation. His senses had sharpened to an extraordinary degree—he could hear the rustle of leaves miles away, smell the faintest traces of blood. His strength was monstrous, and his wounds healed in moments. But with this newfound power came the curse of eternal thirst. Hatsu taught him to control it, to take only what he needed, but the temptation was always there, gnawing at his resolve.

In the dead of night, Shiin stood at the entrance of the cavern, the moonlight casting his shadow long and thin. He had been reborn, not as the man he once was, but as something far darker and more powerful. Nobunaga had evaded his blade once, but Shiin vowed that he would not fail again.

Hatsu watched him go, a faint smile on his lips. Go, then, child of the night. Let the world know the wrath of a shadow reborn.

Chapter 2: The Demon of Shadows (1590)

Nine years had passed since Shiin Hakai’s transformation into a creature of the night. Nine years since the doomed mission to assassinate Oda Nobunaga had turned him into something both more and less than human. The Japan of 1590 was a land caught in the grip of upheaval. Nobunaga’s death in 1582 at the hands of Akechi Mitsuhide had brought hope to those who opposed his brutal unification campaign, but his successor, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, had proven to be an even shrewder and more relentless architect of power.

For Shiin, the years had been a blur of darkness and blood. He had become a legend whispered in hushed tones, known as the Yoru Oni—the Demon of the Night. His victims were not the innocent, but tyrants, warlords, and those who fed on the suffering of others. He had embraced his role as a weapon, striking from the shadows with a fury that no mortal warrior could match. Yet, with each kill, the thirst grew stronger, threatening to consume what remained of his humanity.

It was on a mist-shrouded night in the autumn of 1590 that Shiin found himself in Odawara, a city under siege. Hideyoshi’s campaign to bring the powerful Hojo clan to heel had reached its climax. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood as Hideyoshi’s forces laid waste to the city’s defenses. For most, it was a scene of chaos and despair, but for Shiin, it was an opportunity.

Perched atop a crumbled temple roof, Shiin surveyed the battlefield. His piercing eyes, now a haunting shade of crimson, cut through the darkness with ease. Below, soldiers clashed in a frenzied melee, their cries of rage and agony echoing into the night. Among them was a figure clad in ornate armor, commanding his men with the confidence of a seasoned general. This was General Katsuro Yamazaki, a trusted vassal of Hideyoshi and the man responsible for countless atrocities committed in the name of conquest.

Shiin’s lips curled into a faint smirk. Tonight, the general’s blood would stain the earth.

Without a sound, he leaped from the rooftop, his movements unnaturally graceful. He landed amidst the chaos, his presence unnoticed by the soldiers locked in their desperate struggle. Shiin moved like a phantom, weaving through the melee until he stood mere feet from his target. Drawing his blade, he struck with the speed of a striking viper, his weapon slicing through Katsuro’s armor as though it were paper.

The general gasped, clutching his chest as blood poured from the wound. He turned to