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My eyes fluttered open as I lay on my back to a vivid, star-strewn sky. The season’s first snowfall descended gently, its delicate flurries enhancing the night’s beauty while a frosty breeze grazed my skin.

It was unusual for snow to arrive this early in October.

I raised my hand, capturing snowflakes on my palm as their crystalline brethren slipped through my fingers, dusting my face. As they melted on my skin, the wind’s bite intensified.

The ground beneath me was equally frigid, and my breath formed in the air as I dragged my damp self from the murky forest floor, easing into a seated position. My head throbbed relentlessly, as though my eyes threatened to burst from their sockets at any moment.

I cast my gaze skyward once more, taking in the stars before my attention shifted to the twin moons, both three-quarters full, which would aid my visibility during the homeward journey.

As often as not, I struggled to tear my eyes away from the lunar radiances; their allure often made me restless. A pre-bedtime glimpse would keep me awake for hours. Hopefully, that same energy would work to keep me focused now.

My only companions now were the shadows cast by the trees and the rustle of branches swaying against one another. I had never ventured into the forest at night, and I had to admit, I was somewhat nervous. Father had been adamant about returning home before sunset. While I wasn’t overly anxious, I remained cautious about lingering in one place for too long.

Ignoring the fabled nightstalkers, wolves were prevalent in these parts. Bears were also present, but their threat diminished as winter neared and their activity slowed. The mere idea of passing the nightstalker’s lair en route home filled me with dread. Dodging it meant hours of detours. Hunger and thirst gnawed at me, urging my return to Yuridia and Mother.

A detour was not an option. I had to face the dangerous path.

With careful effort, I rose to my feet and embarked on my arduous journey home. The larger moon and its smaller counterpart cast ample light as I navigated the forest. Though I felt weak, it wasn’t unbearable. The mysterious, once-glowing window that had loomed before me had vanished, igniting fresh uncertainties about my sanity. The strange events defied explanation and exceeded my limited imagination.

Although distant howls echoed through the night, they seemed far enough away not to raise alarm. Nevertheless, I quickened my pace, unwilling to court unnecessary risks.

The trees were undeniably solid, a fact I confirmed by colliding with them several times when clouds shrouded the moonlight. I winced as each impact aggravated my already aching body and filled me with regret for not departing with Yuridia.

You’re such an idiot, Kade. Stupid, stupid.

I wonder if conversing with myself in the second person is strange—I had been doing it a lot lately.

The buzzing sound, caused my vision to waver, and I halted my run—fortunately, it was short-lived. I drew several deep breaths, hunching over and bracing myself on my knees. The intense noise had been brief but had certainly left its mark.

What the hell was going on?

My head was still killing me. It would be nice if that ended soon, as it made this trip home much less enjoyable.

Regarding discomfort, I couldn’t wait to reunite with Yuridia so she could scold me properly. A slap was likely in store, given my late return. Perhaps if I pleaded with her, she’d delay the beating until after my headache subsided.

I adored my sister, but her excessive worry was taxing. She might have been only two years my senior, but she acted like a mother—our actual mother was already a thorn in my side. I didn’t need her doppelgänger berating me as well.

Maintaining a brisk pace, it took me about an hour to reach the foreboding cave, its rock formations evoking the maw of a wolf, replete with stone fangs and screeching bats flitting in and out. The pungent odour of urine wafted from the entrance, undiminished by the cold air.

It baffled me why the nightstalkers would inhabit such a repulsive place. There were other caves nearby. Admittedly, other creatures might have claimed them, but given the fear these monsters inspired, no forest beast would pose a challenge.

Crouching behind a white aspen, I discreetly observed the cave’s entrance, hoping to evade the notice of any nightstalkers lurking within. Without a weapon, I would be defenceless against them…

Damnit.

It dawned on me that I had entirely forgotten my satchel—retrieval was out of the question, even if my knife lay inside. I needed to find warmth urgently, as my extremities were becoming worryingly numb.

Turning away from the cave, I quickened my pace towards town. Normally, the village lights would have been visible through the trees by now. I suspected I had lost my bearings, but my steps were aligned with home.

Of this, I was certain.

The unsettling absence of… everything was disconcerting, and I couldn’t dispel the unease that enveloped me. The forest had grown eerily silent, devoid of foxes and rabbits. This lack of activity only intensified my mounting discomfort.

I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t encounter a nightstalker. Father had depicted them as ferocious creatures with razor-sharp teeth that assailed anything that moved. His cautionary tales suggested that merely stepping outside at night would invite an ambush.

Curiously, nightstalkers supposedly couldn’t enter a home without permission, which raised questions about how anyone could fall prey to them. The notion of these beasts adhering to such a rule was peculiar.

Suppose I sought refuge in an outhouse and entered to relieve myself. Would I have to invite them in first, or would they barge in mid-act? This amusing observation should be a law of nature. No one should feel threatened while in such a vulnerable position. The idea was ludicrous, but it brought a smile to my face.

My amusement was short-lived as I came to an abrupt halt, and my grin evaporated.

A pitch-black wolf stood before me, tilting their head and fixing their piercing red eyes on me as their massive paws compressed the snow beneath them. Their dark fur was speckled with white, which now swirled around us.

Paralysed with terror, I braced myself for a vicious assault from the chest-high creature. To my astonishment, they merely sniffed the air, then cast their gaze towards the village before ambling away in the opposite direction. The wolf shot several glances back at me before vanishing into the woods.

I took a moment to reflect on my choices that day. In addition to narrowly avoiding death by crystal, I also encountered the Hound of Hell. Despite my attempts to rationalise its appearance, the folklore Father had recounted to my sister, and I described such a creature in precise detail.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Why had I witnessed this apparition? It seemed as though Death hadn’t finished toying with me.

Upon reaching the village outskirts, the grim reality struck me: the nightstalkers had entered the village. We had enjoyed countless uneventful nights, and I had prayed this wouldn’t be the case upon my return.

I moved swiftly, albeit apprehensively, through the intensifying snow and pressed myself against the nearest log cabin. I surveyed the area before stealthily crouching towards our farmhouse on the village’s far side. The blizzard had worsened, impairing visibility, but I persevered, darting between buildings, and peering through windows. Yet, I saw no one inside.

I reached the village’s edge, confronting the darkness that lay ahead. The gap between the town and the farm spanned approximately three miles of open terrain. The wind howled as it buffeted me, and I trudged onward, shielding myself with an arm across my face. My free hand periodically reached out to touch the wooden fence that bordered the road, ensuring I didn’t lose my bearings.

We would need to harvest the remaining wheat and vegetables swiftly. The early storm would undoubtedly spoil a significant portion.

Ugh. That task would likely fall to me.

Exhausted and chilled to the bone, I arrived at my house. I plodded around the corner of our home, hand on the damp log wall, before cautiously eyeing the barn. The stable doors gaped open, and my gaze darted about, finding nothing amiss outside.

The iron axe blade, lodged in a log near the house’s back door, faintly mirrored the moonlight. I grasped the wooden handle and wrenched the axe free upon hearing a sound from the barn. In spite of my innate cowardice, I resolved to protect my mother and Yuridia at any cost—their safety outweighed my fear.

Before leaving for war, Father and I had dug a cellar. Though not exclusively intended for situations like this, if nightstalkers invaded the village, Mother and Yuridia would likely seek refuge there. Lighting a lantern from the house and carrying it into the barn would be foolish, as it would draw the nightstalkers to me. Thus far, the snow’s obscuring veil had served me well.

Gripping the axe firmly in my right hand, I cautiously neared the barn’s double doors, leaving footprints in the snow.

Gaining access to the cellar swiftly would be ideal.

I nudged the barn door open, and the rusty hinges emitted a foreboding creak. My eyes swept the interior, recognising the familiar silhouettes of iron farming tools and Father’s chain hooks for butchering deer.

The chains rattled as wind gusts swept in through the open doors, bringing snow with them. My body shivered, and I rubbed my arm for warmth. To my dismay, my fingertips appeared tinged with blue.

Great… I hoped the cellar contained a coat—now, I feared the cold more than the nightstalkers.

Though the external storm raged on, the moonlight streaming through a person-sized hole in the roof granted me some visibility. A significant amount of snow had crept and fallen into the barn, crunching beneath my boots.

Did the ‘stalker do that?

This discovery suggested that nightstalkers could either enter a house uninvited or the rule applied solely to homes—either way, it answered my earlier question.

A noise overhead captured my attention, and my gaze darted upward, but the rafters were empty. As I stared at the barren ceiling, I stepped back.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I inhaled short, rapid breaths. Once my nerves steadied, I heard the creaking of floorboards in the loft, prompting my eyes to shift toward the ladder.

A shiver coursed down my spine, and, without hesitation, I swung the axe back, its blade slicing through the air and nearly slipping from my grasp due to the force of the swing. I staggered from the momentum as something stirred above, clutching the axe as I regained my balance.

“Hello?” I uttered, attempting to mask my fear, but my quavering tone betrayed me. “You’re not supposed to be in here,” I persisted, as though nightstalkers had any regard for trespassing. Predictably, my words went unheeded. “I won’t ask again. Get out.”

The axe trembled in my grip as I struggled to steady my breathing. My throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow the fear that threatened to overwhelm me. The air reeked of putrid, rotting fish, which caused me to become nauseous.

My hand gripped the handle tightly as the wood overhead creaked repeatedly. The creature no longer bothered to stay quiet, exuding an air of confidence.

A sudden thud from behind made me freeze in place.

Every fibre of my being was urging me to swing, yet I hesitated. If I attacked prematurely, the ‘stalker might flee. My swing might not be the strongest, but a well-aimed strike to the neck could prove fatal… hopefully.

As the footsteps grew unbearable, I swung, but my force waned as my eyes locked onto the moonlit nightmare before me.

Its pitch-black eyes twitched as terror washed over me like ice-cold water. The monster’s head slowly tilted to an unnatural angle while its teeth-filled mouth salivated, dripping black fluid onto the snow, creating steam upon contact.

Paralysed, I watched as the nightstalker’s hand, adorned with elongated black nails, crept closer to my face. I snapped back to reality just before its grey-skinned palm touched my nose.

My axe cleaved through its forearm, severing it.

The creature stumbled back, emitting a shrill wail that nearly knocked me to the ground. I covered my ears with my hands, inadvertently dropping the axe.

With each heartbeat, my fear intensified. I yielded to the scream, dropping to my knees and catching myself with one hand while frantically searching for the axe with the other. My unprotected ears bled, and my head throbbed from the force of the screech.

My palm found the wooden handle, and my fingers wrapped around it. Swinging upwards, the blade sank into something fleshy, instantly silencing the cry. An enormous hand grasped my forearm, its black nails slicing into my skin like razor-sharp blades.

The subsequent surge of pain coursing through my body again triggered the glowing window.

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The ‘stalker’s razor-sharp teeth inched towards my wrist as I struggled to free the blade from its chest. With a final, desperate swing, the axe’s edge found its mark, slicing into what I hoped was the creature’s neck while my wrist crunched under the pressure of its teeth. The blade tore through its flesh, ultimately striking the dirt foundation with a violent impact.

The monster’s mouth released me, and its severed head bounced before coming to a rolling stop on the ground.

I collapsed backwards, clutching my mangled wrist, which was fractured in multiple places. Attempting to move my fingers only intensified the pain, causing me to whimper.

My wrist would likely never heal correctly, significantly impairing the function of my hand. Hunting was now an impossibility, and I knew I would receive no sympathy; after all, my curiosity led me into this predicament.

The consequences of my foolishness had become painfully apparent, and the lesson was learned far too late to make any difference.

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I glanced at the health bar hovering in the corner of my vision, its numbers red. The label -1 Severe Bleeding floated above the bar, stating the obvious.

The cellar hatch flung open with a bang, and a warm orange glow emerged from the darkness. Yuridia rushed to my side, her eyes wide as she assessed my blood-soaked arm. Mother followed closely behind, her hand covering her mouth in shock at the severity of my wound.

I turned my gaze to the severed head of the monstrous creature, its long black hair and grotesquely misshapen teeth still chattering. Its limbs were disturbingly long compared to its emaciated torso, giving it an eerie, inhuman appearance.

My mother and Yuridia shared my horror, their expressions reflecting the horror we all felt.

Yuridia placed the torch on the dirt floor and cupped my face. “Where were you? We were so worried,” her voice trembled, tears pooling in her eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

With pain burning through my arm, I forced out the words, my voice strained against clenched teeth. “Do we have anything to stop this bleeding?”

This was bad… really bad. I had never lost so much blood before.

A river of red flowed between Yuridia’s fingers as she panicked and squeezed my arm. Mother dashed back into the cellar, searching for something to stem the bleeding. I averted my gaze from the ever-diminishing health bar, unwilling to witness it hit zero.

I already knew I was going to die; I didn’t need any further confirmation.

My vision began to blur, darkness creeping in from the edges. Tears streamed down Yuridia’s cheeks, reflecting her despair at the inevitable outcome.

What a pitiful way for things to end.

The world seemed to spin as I stared at the barn’s wooden ceiling. My breathing grew shallow and laboured, and the surrounding voices became unintelligible as Mother returned.

With one final breath, I succumbed to the darkness, accepting my harsh fate.