Oh God.

As she sat there, bound in leather bindings and kneeling before the altar, the only thing she could do was pray. Pray that her sister had escaped, pray that Mark had escaped, pray that they killed her quickly. She had no gods, yet she prayed all the same, hoping one would have mercy on her.

She had been preparing dinner, doing her best to skin and clean her sister’s kill. She had only gotten done skinning the hide off of the fox before the sound of yelling had erupted from above. She’d panicked, then hid in her bunk. She had figured that even if someone had tracked them down they’d give up once they failed to get into their home, but then a man had crashed into her home just a few feet away from her.

She struggled of course, but she was mortal and the man was one of the many Warriors the Ginte had in their ranks. Their fight had barely lasted long enough for her to try and claw his eyes out before she was restrained and brought to the surface, where she was met with half a dozen men with hunting dogs waiting for them.

She didn’t even have time to scream before they bound and gagged her, before dragging her back to their home. All the while listening to the men laughing as they carried her struggling form to her death. Thankfully, and she used that term loosely, the men hadn’t done anything to her outside of some ‘intimidation’.

They carried her through the forest, past the city, and eventually to the small town that the Ginte had claimed as their own. When they’d arrived the first thing she’d seen was the large wooden walls, decorated with sigils and the hanged corpses - many of them fresh - of the town’s enemies. The only thing she could do was weep when she saw the remains of so many innocent people butchered by the animals within the walls.

Once they had dragged her through the front gates she was met with the sight of macabre effigies decorating the streets and homes of the people within. Each skull, each skeleton, each body a representation of the cruelties that the people who had fallen to the beasts in man's skin had suffered.

Please God, if you’re out there, let them be okay.

When they’d finally arrived at the center of the city the men slowed, forming a line behind the leader as they bowed their heads toward the town's Head Warrior, and the woman who had single handedly turned what was once a paradise into a living hell.

Standing at roughly six foot four, and as thin as she was pale, was the Huntress who led the Ginte. Miraku - or ‘Miracle’ as her followers called her - was a thin, pale skinned woman with long hair touching down to her waist, and a painted skull-mask covering everything except her eyes and mouth. Decorating her body were the holy symbols of the Ginte’s cult, including parts of various powerful beasts… and Warriors.

She was flanked by two men, neither of them being Warriors, with a slow arrogant stride she crept towards Chloe and the man who had led her here. Even from a distance she could smell something resembling burning wood, but it smelt - and tasted - acidic. It resembled stomach acid in a way that she couldn’t properly describe.

Her stride ended once she was only a few feet away from Chloe, gazing at her the same way one would appraise a dead fox or deer.

“And to think, I thought you had done the sensible thing and run away.” Her voice was filled with mockery, like someone speaking down to an annoying pest that had disturbed their rest. The thought of rebuttal entered her mind for only a moment, but the concept of further angering the woman who would most likely skin her alive for the entertainment value alone was… disconcerting to say the least.

As terrified as she was of the Ginte and the methods they employed, as angry as she was towards the people who had burnt her home to the grown - twice as of today - she would be lying if she said she wasn’t even more terrified of the idea of what they would do to her if she insulted the Huntress. Let alone what she would do to her according to the rumors that had spread throughout the land, her followers would do far worse if it meant garnering favor with her.

There had been reports and rumors of the Ginte keeping their victims alive for days or weeks depending on what the victim had done to anger them, and she’d rather not join that long list if she couldn’t help it.

She didn’t want to die, but she was going to. There wasn’t a reason to make the process any more torturous.

“Quiet… well, you are gagged, guess that is to be expected.” With one hand she reached into the folds of her clothing and brought out a small necklace, and hanging from the leather string was… a finger? “You see, I don’t care all that much for you, what I want is the boy you were with.” With a motion too fast to see she appeared in front of her, dangling the rancid smelling digit in front of her face. “The person he killed… well the man had been after my affections you see, more annoying than sincere but he had made the attempt. He promised above all else that he would ‘bring prey worthy of the Goddess’, yet all I received was disappointment.”

Miracle seemed to be mocking the man, and while most would take offense to the fallen being spoken in such disrespectful ways openly like this the people around seemed to be agreeing with her, or pretending to while in her presence.

Either not noticing or not caring about the observers she continued with an almost mockingly reverent voice. “You see, he went out into the city to find prey worthy of me, and in the process your pale-faced friend killed him. From what his son told me, he moved fast enough to split the winds, and struck with enough power to shatter the skies.”

Crouching down low enough to be on an even level with Chloe she grabbed her by the chin, her fingers sending piercing pain to ripple throughout her jaw as the woman did nothing to control her strength.

“I want him, I want you to bring him here, I want to feast on the one who would kill one of my admirers, I want him to watch as I eat his heart. And if you refuse I will find that sister of yours and do the same to her, regardless of how many of these pathetic villages I have to raze to the ground to draw her out.”

She’s just as mad as the stories say!

When she didn’t respond immediately she felt the cold fingers grip her jaw even harder, causing a cascade of pain to spread as she felt the bone in her jaw begin to crack. She couldn’t control herself as she flailed from the pain, a muffled scream leaving her in the process.

“If you refuse I swear on my name, I wi-”

She stopped, holding still as if she had been frozen solid. A few of the Warrior’s around them had similar reactions, while many of the weaker Ginte members looked at them confused. Chloe couldn’t understand what was happening, but she was grateful that the crazed woman was no longer crushing her jaw with her hand.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The silence lasted for a few seconds, long enough for her relief to turn to fear. If something had happened that was bad enough for even the Warriors to freeze, then how much danger was she in?

What is going on? Is this a ritual or something? Is their ‘Goddess’ speaking to her and they are keeping quiet because of that?

Her thoughts were made worthless just a moment later, when the roar of an enraged beast split the silence.

The roar was incredibly loud, deafening even, and deep enough to more closely resemble a demon than any beast she had ever heard of. The weight it put onto her heart made it feel like it was going to burst out of her chest. She was no hunter, and her experience with beasts was limited even further due to the nature of the area, but she knew that whatever was approaching was something different. The roar was horrifyingly deep and guttural, the beast that uttered it was still quite a distance away, but everyone - even the mortals - who could hear it could tell that it was approaching them rapidly.

After the first roar had echoed out several more howls and demonic screeches followed, with each one closer and closer, until it sounded as if it was coming from just outside the walls.

Whether it was one enraged beast or an army was unclear, but the threat it posed certainly was.

The devil has come for the Ginte, and I am going to be caught in the middle of it!

By the time the second roar had been released Miracle and her Warrior’s had readied themselves, drawing weapons or beginning their chants of magic and ritual, each Warrior had felt something that she hadn’t, and she was terrified even further because of it. When a mortal was scared of something in the dark it was to be expected, but when a Warrior was terrified of something they couldn’t see it spelled death for the mortals around them. A mortal's instincts could be fooled, they could be misguided or simply clouded by fear or anxiety, but a Warrior’s were far more refined and powerful.

Whatever was coming, whatever was here was dangerous enough to put even the monstrous Miracle on edge.

As she looked around to see how the Warriors were reacting she noticed that none of the Ginte were watching her anymore. All of the Warriors had turned their attention towards the walls, while the mortals and the few children that had been watching the show had hid inside of their homes.

I can make it now, they won’t care about me if they have to worry about… whatever that thing is.

It took her less than five seconds to slip her bindings and tear her gag away, and without even thinking about what the Ginte would do to her if she was caught she began to sprint towards the opposite end of the town from where the roars had come from. No one yelled out towards her, no one attempted to stop her, even after passing a home and crossing the path of two running Warriors no one had even reacted to her presence. Whether this was because they thought she was an escaping member of their tribe, some form of slave that was getting away from the carnage, or simply didn’t care she didn’t know.

She ran until she had passed over a dozen homes, only to hear something explode behind her.

It’s here!

By now she could see an unguarded gate. It was closed, but there were lookout towers nearby that she could use to get over the walls. If she was fast enough she could clear the area before either side won, and hopefully find her sister and Mark before the Ginte started hunting them down again.

Or she would have, if she hadn’t turned to look behind her to look at whatever monster had assaulted the Ginte.

Mark?

He stood atop the wreckage of the gate, facing Miracle who was wielding two thin blades and loudly mocking him for the act of attacking her town. As she spoke they both became surrounded completely by Warriors. She couldn’t make out most of his form as he was surrounded by Ginte, but she could see his face clearly - even as half of it was covered by the same cloth he covered his arm in.

She wanted to call out to him, to tell him to run away before whatever had caused the Warriors to react arrived, but they were on him in an instant. She suppressed a scream as she watched the Warriors attack with weapons and magic, spears and hatchets raining down onto him as fire and ice bombarded his form from all sides. She was horrified to think that she was going to watch him die needlessly in an attempt to save her.

Surrounded by Ginte, having magic and mortal weaponry assault him on all sides, she didn’t see a single hint of fear on his face, just an unholy rage that didn’t belong on the face of the mild mannered boy she had eaten dinner with the night before.

In an instant Mark went from an enraged man, to a black blur. With a motion too fast for her to see he tore through four of the Warriors in front of him, before throwing the bisected corpse of one of the Warriors behind him and knocking down a mage who was in the process of casting a spell. The body hit the mage with enough force to fold her past the broken ruins of the gate, sending both the corpse and the mage flying outside of the town.

Without sparing a glance behind him Mark charged forward, a black claw almost equal his size arching backwards in preparation to slam down onto the Warrior closest to him, Miracle.

She had never seen Miracle fight, very few had - and even fewer had lived to tell the tale.

However everyone knew that Miracle was the sort to play with her victims, using whips or thin blades to whittle them down over time until her prey was too injured to fight, or died of blood loss.

But when she saw Mark rush Miracle all she could see of the two of them were darkened blurs. Thin lights would sometimes reflect off of Miracles blades, or the black shadow would block both of their forms as it slammed into the ground in an attempt to pulverize the woman. The Warriors around them attempted multiple times to assist their leader, but each time their attacks were redirected, blocked, or parried in a way that left the two of them still fighting, and a Ginte Warrior dead on the ground.

For a moment she was fearful that Miracle would kill him, each flash of the blades, each gasp from Miracle or growl emitting from Mark leaving her wondering if she was going to see Miracle pull away with an arm or eye in her hands, until she heard Miracle scream.

Their forms stopped moving until they stood in the center of the street, Miracle being held in the sky by a massive black claw.

Miracle was struggling as she attempted to dislodge herself from the massive claws, screaming for her followers to save her. She screeched like a rabid animal, tearing at the claw and kicking at mark as her Warriors surged forward to save her.

Several of them launched magic at them, others attempted to pull them apart in an attempt to get Miracle out of the fight as quickly as possible, while a few of the others fled towards the homes in an attempt to most likely get their families and flee from the man who had already killed most of them.

They struggled relentlessly to separate the two until the black claw that held her crushed her in half, turning most of her body into mush. Without hesitation he used his free hand to grab a Warrior by the throat, before crushing it and tossing them back onto the ground, before spinning around again and tearing another man’s head off.

Within a minute Mark had slaughtered almost every Warrior the Ginte tribe had, including their leader.

The few remaining Warriors were scattering into the woods around them, or hiding in the buildings with their families. Mark didn’t pay them any mind, seemingly transfixed on the bodies around him.

“Pathetic. Disgusting. Insulting.”

The first words he’d spoken since he’d arrived, and the only one that was required to prove that something was wrong with Mark. His voice was deep and gravelly, like he’d done nothing but choke down stones for a lifetime, while the tone was that of mockery and hate.

That… that isn’t Mark.

The realization scared her more than what she’d seen. The black thing that covered his arm had spread to most of his upper chest and a good portion of his face. It looked like a shell now, hardened and shining as if it had been recently polished, with linings of white fur and pale gray eyes decorating it seemingly at random.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t kind. And it had taken over Mark’s body.

He must be possessed by some kind of demon! Mother told us stories of demons from the hells, but I thought they were just tales meant to scare us into doing chores!

Whatever it was that had taken control of Mark hadn’t noticed her yet, or didn’t care about her, as it began to take the corpses into itself. With slow movements it began to move its clawed hand over the corpses of the fallen Warriors, before they seemingly disappeared underneath its mass. Each mostly-intact corpse took a few seconds to devour, and she knew that if she didn’t leave soon it would finish all of them before she could even get over the wall behind her.

So she turned and ran.

And he was there.

He had been halfway down the street one moment, and directly behind her the next. She had only taken her eyes off of him for a split second, and he’d moved fast enough to appear in front of her.

Standing so close to her that she could see every little detail- of the cloak - no, the armor that he was wearing. The black carapace had thin lines of white fur where the creases and joints were.

And the eyes… they weren't decoration, but actual eyes made of flesh.

They were tracking her.

Mark moved closer to her, but he did it slowly, as if he was intoxicated. He didn’t move his head to look her in the eyes, but angled his shoulder down towards her, so that she was forced to look at an enlarged eyeball directly. The eye was large, almost as big as her entire head, and the iris more resembled a cat’s than a human’s.

It’s going to eat me.

Then it spoke again.

“Where den-mate going? Where other den-mate? Den burnt, men dead now, tried to hunt us, failed. Where other den-mate? Master-friend?”

What?