Chapter 8
Mark
The rot is overwhelming.
Not just a smell, but a sensation that crawls across my skin, digging invisible claws into my chest. The maze of trees looms ahead, the forest shrouded in dense shadows.
He is there.
Keelan tears through the sky above me, the eagle flying in a precise arc, screaming a warning that echoes like an arrow in my mind. My muscles tense, instinct takes over, and I surge forward, a blur of speed and determination.
The hunt begins.
Among the trees, he reveals himself. A nightmare made flesh.
His grotesque silhouette stands out, thin and distant, covered in grey, stretched skin, as if his very body were disintegrating.
Pulsing black veins spread like dead roots beneath his skin, and his eyes.
.. a black void that seems to suck in all light, all hope.
His mouth, grotesque and full of sharp teeth, opens in a hungry smile.
It doesn't just want to kill. It wants to devour.
My roar echoes through the forest, a primal sound that tears through the night.
With a leap, I leave the wolf form behind, surrendering to my beastly form. The transformation is thunder in my flesh, bones cracking, muscles growing, claws sharpening.
He will regret invading my territory.
I lunge at him, my claws cutting through the air with precision. The impact is a clash of brutal forces. He attacks with his long, sharp nails, so fast they are almost a blur.
But I am faster.
I sink my teeth into his rotten arm, feeling the flesh disintegrate under my jaw. The acidic, putrid taste explodes in my mouth, nauseating, but I don't give in.
He roars, an inhuman sound that reverberates through the air, and his claws dig into my back, tearing through skin and muscle.
I could have used my blocking power, preventing him from even touching me, but my regeneration is practically instantaneous. My wounds close with relentless speed, barely giving me time to register the pain.
I growl, a promise of death, and break free, but he is surprisingly strong. With a roar of fury, he grabs me again, his long, grotesque arms imprisoning me like a snake squeezing its prey. Then, with a brutal movement, he throws me away.
This kind of strength in a Wendigo is not normal.
It's as if he was created with an extra touch of witchcraft, which only strengthens my suspicions that someone is behind these apparitions.
The world spins around me. The impact throws me against a tree trunk, the wood giving way under the force of the shock. My ribs break, the pain spreading through my body for a brief second, until my regeneration repairs them, and I catch my breath.
The blood pounding in my ears pushes me to get up, and my vision adjusts, focusing on the monstrous form in front of me.
It stares at me from afar, its eyes black as bottomless caves.
But there is something new there. Fear.
I growl, and my body springs into motion. I move towards him, but before I can reach the monster, a crash of wings cutting through the air interrupts me.
Keelan.
The bird attacks the Wendigo from behind, with a battle cry he pierces the creature with his claws and sharp beak.
The Wendigo lets out a cry of pain, black blood spurting from its head.
With a sudden movement, it spins around and, with a single blow, cuts off one of Keelan's wings, tearing it as if it were paper.
"No, damn it!" Anger explodes in my voice as magic forms in my hands, casting a protective barrier around Keelan, I push him away from the battlefield.
There is no time to hesitate.
Every fibre of my body screams for revenge, my muscles moving with relentless precision, propelling me forward with speed and fury.
Then I strike.
With a guttural growl, I lunge at the Wendigo, sinking my claws into the monster's rotten flesh.
The impact is like thunder, the ground seems to shake beneath us.
The monster loses its balance, and as it falls, it opens its jaws with lethal speed, its teeth cutting through the air with a chilling sound.
I dodge the attack and grab his shoulders, pushing his body to the ground with beastly strength. He struggles, his muscles twisting, trying to break free from under me, but I am stronger. I hold him down, combining my strength and power, which wraps around his torso like an invisible rope.
The rotten, damp flesh beneath my claws resists for a second, but soon tears like fragile fabric.
The Wendigo screams, his legs kicking beneath me, his hands trying to reach me with his sharp claws.
But it's a futil . My power surrounds his wrists and legs, but I miscalculated; I should have secured a barrier around his neck as well.
His head rises and his teeth sink deep into my arm, I grunt, but I don't back down.
With a fierce movement, I pull my arm upwards. The flesh tears under his bite, and blood gushes out, but the pain is brief; my skin repairs itself quickly, and my patience runs out.
My claws dig into his shoulders to the bone, and I rip his arms from his body, hearing the horrible sound of flesh tearing, bones and tendons being torn apart. A scream of agony echoes from his monstrous mouth, the Wendigo writhes, trying to break free, but remains trapped.
With a fierce hand, I pin his head to the ground, my claws sinking into his scalp, forcing him to remain still. The sound of his skull shattering under my strength is the last thing I hear before I open my mouth and sink my fangs into his neck.
The taste is unbearable, but my thirst for revenge replaces it.
My jaw closes with brutality. I rip his head from his body with a pull so brutal that I can almost feel the impact reverberating through my bones.
The violence, the struggle, it all disappears for a moment.
He is dead.
Silence falls around me like a cloak. An ephemeral peace takes hold of me, but soon nausea rises, fierce, like a demon.
The taste of the Wendigo's rotten blood invades my mouth, acidic and unbearable.
The revulsion is instantaneous, and in one abrupt movement, I return to human form. The transition is quick, my essence charged with magic, bringing me back with my clothes intact — something quite different from ordinary shape-shifters.
Before I can control it, I am already kneeling on the ground, vomiting in front of the mutilated carcass.
Keelan appears at my side, his feathers torn and marks from the fight evident. When he returns to human form, he is completely naked, with one arm bleeding, moaning in pain.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stare at him.
"You shouldn't have attacked the Wendigo," I say through gritted teeth. "I was in control, for fuck's sake!"
He shudders at my words, his eyes darting to the floor for a moment before he replies.
"I'm sorry, but he was distracted, Beast. I saw an opening and acted."
I shake my head, irritation still throbbing in my words.
"You put yourself in unnecessary danger, Keelan. Next time, don't disobey orders."
He swallows hard but murmurs in a low voice,
"Understood."
I sigh, letting my posture relax just a little.
"Good job finding him so quickly."
Keelan looks up, seeming surprised by the praise.
"I was just doing my job."
He tries to smile, but a grimace of pain is inevitable as he presses his injured arm. My gaze lingers on the still-open flesh, on the deep cuts that will take hours, perhaps a whole day, to heal.
"Take tomorrow off," I order, my voice firm but tinged with concern.
Keelan lets out a sigh of relief, the tension dissipating from his shoulders.
"Thanks, Beast."
I find my flask of brandy in my jacket and use the fiery liquid as mouthwash, feeling the taste of death dissolve before spitting the remains onto the ground.
The muffled sound of Keelan laughing makes me look at him.
"That's right, get all that filth out." He flashes a crooked smile, though he's clearly still in pain.
"I'm fine." I stand up and put the bottle back in my inside pocket. "You, on the other hand..."
"Yeah, that son of a bitch got me good." He holds his lacerated shoulder, trying to stop the blood that continues to flow.
Without wasting any more time, I grab my phone and call Ted. He answers immediately, his voice steady on the other end of the line.
"The situation has been resolved. The body is in the forest," I inform him, passing on the coordinates. "Call in the clean-up crew and send support to Eagle, he needs medical attention and can't fly."
"Right away, boss," Ted replies without hesitation. "They're already on their way."
I put my phone away and scan the perimeter.
My cabin is a few miles north, on the edge of this forest. The desire for a hot shower tempts me, but I can't afford that luxury yet.
The monster has been killed, but the forest still needs to be searched.
I sniff the air.
Behind the Wendigo's rotten smell, I recognise the familiar odour of the team approaching.
But it is another smell that almost escapes me — subtle, but impossible to ignore once I detect it: blood.
Blood that is neither mine nor Keelan's.
There is something else there, something wrong. There are always wounded in the forest, it's the natural order of things, but this one is different. The fear emanating from it is almost tangible, terrifying, and it is infected with the monster's scent. A victim.
Something inside me shudders, a visceral reaction that makes me roar, my heart racing with an intensity I cannot ignore.
I let my beastly form emerge, my muscles expanding, and I head towards the heart of the forest.
I follow its scent.