18
T he lamp cast a harsh light over the corpse’s back, blinding Viktor to everything else in the autopsy room. His heart’s frantic pounds echoed off the stone walls, tiny beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. The air was thick with the stench of decay and crushed hopes.
He stared at the tattoo on the corpse. Three intertwined triangles. This can’t be… But it was. The wolf’s reaction confirmed it. The beast was grumbling beneath his skin, desperate to run away. Viktor craved escape as well but couldn’t move while his mind struggled to comprehend the sight.
His thoughts drifted back to the times when the same tattoo had ruled his world.
France, Sixteenth Century
France was awash with chaos and violence.
The wars over religion had been ongoing for four decades.
Protestantism was gaining followers despite the rampant raids of the Catholics.
Led by the Queen Regent, the Catholics, it seemed, would not give up until they’d washed the streets with the last Huguenot’s blood.
For days, the kingdom shook with recountings of the events. The wolf was strolling through Lyon, picking up bits and pieces of information.
Over seven thousand murdered…
… sliced into bits…
… carnage…
… murdered on their own doorsteps.
His appetite awoke again.
Picking up the scent of clean skin, he tracked a young woman. The sleek crimson fabric of her long dress suggested she wasn’t a mere peasant who had arrived in town to sell her goods.
Last night, he had been content with a sheep. Now, he wanted a gazelle.
He followed her along the street…
Don’t do it! She is innocent! someone whispered, but the wolf didn’t hear.
Why her? You can feast on animals!
His conscience. He thought he’d put it to rest a long time ago and yet…
The accusatory thoughts disappeared at the sight of the young flesh wrapped in red veils. Would he kill her quickly or make love to her first? Sometimes it pleased him to charm his victims, sometimes it pleased him to scare them to death.
Today, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be good or bad.
Don’t! I can’t take it any longer!
There was nothing more beautiful than a body split open. The perfection of the mechanism that drove life was incomparable. Every small piece of it had its role to play as part of one whole living organism.
Especially a young woman’s…
Please! Don’t do it! Not again!
The thrill from the upcoming chase mixed with irritation. If only he could live without hearing his pathetic conscience, always trying to domesticate him…
His own palms landed on either side of his face. Despite his fierce attempts at resisting, his hands clenched around his neck like pincers. The wolf yelled. Thumbs pushed against his Adam’s apple, depriving him of the ability to scream, and began suffocating him.
His conscience was trying to dominate, but he – he was the alpha.
Then, his legs went numb, his hands dropped on either side of his torso, and the wolf was no longer in control.
Viktor took a deep breath.
“This man is possessed!” someone shouted, pointing a finger at him.
People were staring at him.
“DEMON! DEMON!”
Viktor ran until he lost them and slipped between two buildings.
Having control over his body did not make him feel lighter.
It was as though gravity had doubled its grip on his bones, every move a monumental effort.
How would he be able to live in the vessel the wolf had used to commit his wrongdoings?
Because of a lucky coincidence, he had bested him today, but how long before the wolf took over once more?
Only Death could put an end to it. Viktor had longed for his dark touch for a while now – even before he’d sunk into the nightmare of Vaka Hara – but the wolf would never allow him to kill the body that served him so well.
His survival instincts had always helped him prevail over Viktor when their joint life was hanging by a thread.
So, Viktor did the only thing he could to restrain him – he tortured himself.
His body always recovered, but at least in those few hours, the wolf couldn’t use it.
Viktor followed the street down to a market and blended in with the crowds of people, all blissfully ignorant of the monster roaming among them.
He stayed away from those who would spark the wolf’s interest. Viktor knew his tastes well by now.
The animal was waking up and there were plenty of spoils around.
“Lost, are you?”
Viktor turned towards the voice. A young man stood by the window of a nearby pharmacy. His relaxed posture suggested indifference, but the sharp glint in his eyes betrayed a keen curiosity.
“Are you talking to me?” Viktor asked.
The man nodded, studying him. “You’re looking around like you don’t know which way to go.”
Viktor gave a bitter smile. The stranger had no idea how right he was. “You’re mistaken.”
The man’s gaze narrowed, but it was his next words that made Viktor freeze. “You’re not human.”
Viktor’s eyes widened. “Who are you?”
The man stepped closer and extended his hand. “They call me Raphael, the Healer.”
Viktor remained still. “If you know I’m not human, then consider this a warning: A dangerous beast is living inside me and he will kill you the moment he awakens.”
“What’s your name?” Raphael asked, as if Viktor hadn’t spoken.
“Viktor…”
“Viktor…” The man smiled. “Well, Viktor, if I showed you the most terrible things you could do to yourself, would you try to save yourself? Or would you be tempted?”
Now, the memory of Raphael was the only thing keeping Viktor standing after what he’d seen on the autopsy table.
The door creaked open, and he glanced over his shoulder. Mikhail entered with Amelia, both of them lost in thought and ignorant of the tension tightening every fibre in Viktor’s body.
Because no one cares about you, wretch . And perhaps that was for the best.
“You said you found something.” Mikhail cast a quick look at the corpse.
Viktor wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm.
“Yes. This female lycanthrope was found dead near Sofia. Tribunal agents brought her in because they found a fresh wound on her abdomen, with stitches still intact. They thought she might be one of our patients, but Nyavolski was already here and confirmed she hadn’t been treated at the Hospital – at least not in surgery.
But judging by the incision, she recently underwent abdominal surgery. ”
Amelia leaned over the body. “I thought there was no other place where immortals could be operated on.”
“There isn’t,” Mikhail replied. “Perhaps she had surgery in a human hospital?”
Viktor nodded. “It’s not entirely out of the question… But why would she risk exposing the immortal world and breaking Tribunal laws when she lived less than thirty minutes away by car? Her wallet contained an ID with a human identity, listing her residence in Plovdiv.”
“So she has connections with the human world.” Mikhail’s eyes narrowed in thought. “She wouldn’t bother creating a human identity otherwise. There were rumours of nymphs practising modern medicine somewhere in the Rhodope Mountains. Could they be involved?”
Viktor wrinkled his nose, gesturing towards the corpse.
“Unless modern medicine has moved to caves, I doubt it. Even if they’ve modernised, this doesn’t look like their work.
This wasn’t surgery – it was butchery. Her stomach is missing.
The oesophagus was directly connected to the intestines.
I suspect the ‘surgeon’ didn’t intend for her to die, but they lacked skill.
They didn’t know what they were doing. The anastomosis was clumsily done but held together.
The problem was with the ligatures. They came apart, and she bled to death.
I have no idea how she ended up where they found her. ”
Amelia circled the table, inspecting the lower part of the body. “There are wounds on her feet.”
Viktor needed to sit. His head was about to burst from the beast. It had been scratching, whimpering, howling, and trembling within his mind ever since he had seen the corpse.
‘If I show you the most terrible things you could do to yourself, would you try to save yourself?’
Mikhail and Amelia’s thread of conversation buzzed in his ears.
“Didn’t you mention a bar in Sofia where organs are traded?” she asked.
“The Seven Horses… I bet it’s the Righteous’ dirty business.”
“Why haven’t you reported it to the Tribunal yet?”
A few seconds passed before the manticore replied through clenched teeth, “It’s complicated.”
Viktor found the strength to intervene. “The Righteous isn’t involved in this. The corpse bears a symbol.” He turned the body over. Between the victim’s shoulder blades were the three interlocked triangles, roughly the size of a woman’s hand.
Mikhail examined the mark. “She’s hardly the first immortal with tattoos.”
Viktor shook his head. “This isn’t a tattoo. It’s a brand. A valknut.”
“A valknut? That doesn’t mean anything to me.” The manticore’s brow furrowed.
“It’s a Scandinavian symbol. The name translates to ‘knot of the slain in battle.’ It carries many meanings, including as a symbol of life after death and the Norse god Odin. But in this case, the valknut is used differently.”
Amelia looked at Viktor over the body. “What does it mean here?”
Viktor traced his fingers over the three triangles, which he had believed he would never see again. “Racism. These triangles represent lineage, a pure bloodline… Superiority. The valknut signifies supremacy.”
Mikhail slipped his phone back into his pocket and gestured towards the symbols. “Are you saying this lycanthrope comes from some special lineage?”
Viktor’s smile was bitter. “I’m saying the one who killed her branded her with the valknut – the symbol he claims as his own.
To mark her as his property. In fifteenth-century Germany, there was a secret society called the Kreiss Hunters.
They were humans searching for the truth about the world, hunters of occult knowledge.
The valknut was their emblem, signifying the knowledge of their ancestors.
The Kreiss Hunters discovered the existence of immortals, but their curiosity was limited to gathering information about the different species.
They even managed to collect drawings of lycanthropes, vampires, and manticores.
But one of them, Cristiano Konig, took it too far – he hunted immortals and turned them into his trophies, branding them with the valknut.
It seems the society is active once again… ”
Mikhail’s expression hardened as he processed Viktor’s words.
Amelia’s gaze flickered between the two men. “How… do you know about them?”
The wolf within him didn’t want to speak out of shame. But Viktor… Viktor had to speak to protect others from suffering the same fate. The stench of decaying flesh pierced his nostrils, more nauseating than ever. He removed his gloves and said, “I know because I bear their symbol on my back.”
Mikhail frowned. “I’ve seen your tattoo, and it looks nothing like this.”
“It does not… because the valknut is hidden within it. I couldn’t bear the thought of it being on my back forever. So while it still exists, it’s transformed.”
His brand was one of the things Viktor had never shared with anyone since Raphael. Not even with Mikhail, who knew almost everything about him.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and told them the entire story about the greatest loss of his life.