Zayn locked eyes with his stepfather or the stepfather of the body he was in, his cold gaze meeting the man's confused expression. The man stood firm, his figure broad and slightly hunched, as if he carried a great weight on his shoulders.

Zayn took quick stock of his stance, noticing the tightly clenched fists and the slight furrow in his brow. Inwardly, he cursed the poor timing of the man's arrival.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked again, his tone sharper this time.

Zayn said nothing. He turned and carefully set the firework he had unwrapped back onto the pile, covering it with the same decorative material. His silence only seemed to frustrate the man further.

"What's that you're putting down?" the stepfather pressed, stepping closer.

Zayn straightened, his mind racing. Keeping his tone as neutral as possible, he replied, "Nothing. You should go back to the festival."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Why are you acting so strange today?" He began, a bit of annoyance in his voice. "It started when I found you staring out at the sea after you left your pregnant mother on her own. Then, when you were with your friend and the two of you were to go and change into the proper attire for the festival, you don't even check on your friend or mother and are wearing this."

'And now, you're sneaking around the chief's home." he was clearly tired of dealing with all of this in one day.

He took another step forward, his voice dropping to a warning tone. "I know that you are not the fondest of me but If you're planning something that could bring trouble to the village just because of that, you'd better stop right now."

Zayn felt his jaw tighten. He didn't like the man's condescending tone, but he knew getting into a confrontation would only complicate things. He took a step closer, meeting the man halfway, and held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm not doing anything that would cause trouble," Zayn said calmly, though his voice carried a sharp edge. "Let's just go back to the festival."

The stepfather frowned, his suspicion growing. His eyes drifted lower, and his expression shifted when he noticed pieces of fabric wrapped around Zayn's forearms. "What's this?" he asked, pointing at the crude bandages. "Why are you wrapped up like that?"

"It's nothing," Zayn said curtly, shifting his arm out of view.

But the man wasn't deterred. He reached out, grabbing Zayn's wrist to inspect it. Before Zayn could react, the fabric came loose, revealing the gruesome wounds beneath. The jagged cuts and deep gashes painted a grim picture as if Zayn had been through a battlefield.

The man's eyes widened in shock. "What in the gods' names happened to you?" he demanded, his voice rising.

Zayn's response wasn't verbal. He fixed the stepfather with a cold, unyielding stare, the weight of it so intense that the man instinctively recoiled. It was the same gaze Zayn had given him earlier in the day, when he'd held onto his shoulder. But this time, it was sharper, colder—the gaze of someone who was this close to committing murder.

Zayn's hand shot up, grabbing the man's wrist in return. Despite the difference in their sizes, Zayn's grip was shockingly strong, and the man's face twisted in discomfort.

"Let go," Zayn said evenly, his voice low and dangerous.

The man hesitated, then released Zayn's wrist, flexing his hand as if to ease the ache. "I'm sorry," he muttered, though his tone carried more confusion than remorse.

Zayn ignored the apology. "Go back to the festival," he said again. "It's about to begin properly. You don't want to miss it."

The man shook his head. "I can't just leave you like this. Those wounds need treating, and you're acting…" He trailed off, searching for the right word. "You're not yourself."

Zayn didn't respond. He turned his back on the man, his mind already shifting to the pile of fireworks and the strange, glowing substance he'd uncovered. He couldn't waste his time arguing with the man as he didn't want to be met by the two sisters without at least getting a better understanding of these items.

He barely registered the man fidgeting with his necklace, the gesture subtle but incessant. If Zayn had noticed, it might have set off alarm bells, but his focus was elsewhere.

As Zayn studied the pile, he saw the dark crystalline material pulsing brighter than before. A growing sense of unease settled over him. Whatever this was, it wasn't just an ordinary firework component. The glow seemed almost alive, and it sent a chill down his spine.

The stepfather, noticing Zayn's fixation, followed his gaze. He moved closer, his curiosity overriding his earlier hesitation. "What is this stuff?" he asked aloud, his hand reaching for a small shard of the glowing material.

"Don't touch it," Zayn snapped, but it was too late.

The man picked up the shard, turning it over in his hand. The moment his fingers made contact, the crystalline substance flared with a sudden, intense light. Zayn's heart sank.

"No," Zayn muttered under his breath, knowing that whatever was about to happen, it wouldn't be good.

Zayn watched in growing horror as the necklace around the man's neck began to glow with an eerie resonance, the same pulsating crimson light as the crystalline substance he held. Without warning, the necklace erupted into flames. Crimson fire engulfed the man in a sudden, ferocious blaze. Zayn instinctively leaped backward, his hands flying to the two bone claws hanging at his sides. He gripped them tightly, ready to wield them at a moment's notice.

The man's agonized screams pierced the air, raw and unrelenting. Zayn felt his stomach churn as he witnessed the flames devour the man, charring his skin to an unnatural leathery black. His body twisted unnaturally as bones broke and flesh twisted as though being reshaped by an invisible hand. The scent of burning flesh filled the air, and Zayn's every instinct screamed at him to run. But his legs refused to move as he watched the gruesome transformation unfold.

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The flames melted the necklace into the man's chest, fusing it into his body. The skin around the area bubbled and cracked, forming a grotesque, veined scar that glowed faintly with a malicious light.

Zayn's eyes widened as he saw the man's fingers elongate into sharp, white claws, with blood-red veins snaking through them like roots. The resemblance to the Blood Claws he had fought earlier was undeniable, though this transformation was far more grotesque. Unlike the monkeys' lean and agile forms, the man's new body seemed lankier and encased in a fiery aura.

Zayn noted, with a growing sense of dread, that this was something far different, whether it was dangerous he would figure that out soon.

The man's screaming ceased abruptly as his transformation reached its conclusion. He now stood still, a creature of flame and bone, utterly unrecognizable. His head had deformed, taking on the grotesque shape of a monkey's skull covered in blood-colored flame. Zayn saw no eyes within the fiery glow that consumed the head; it was as though the fire itself served as its vision.

The sight of it sent a shiver down his spine, but Zayn forced himself to keep his composure, his fists tightening around the bone claws.

For a moment, neither moved. The air between them crackled with tension, the only sounds were the faint hiss of flames and Zayn's own measured breathing. Then, in a blur of motion, the creature charged.

Its speed was terrifying. Zayn barely managed to sidestep the initial attack, the claws slashing through the air where his head had been just a moment before.

The heat radiating from the creature's body was overwhelming, like standing too close to a roaring inferno. It was much more intense than that of the Blood Claws but this one still caused him no damage.

Zayn retaliated immediately, driving one of his bone claws into the creature's side. The strike hit home, but the leathery black skin resisted more than he expected. Still, the force of the blow sent the creature staggering slightly, its balance momentarily disrupted.

Zayn didn't wait. He pressed his advantage, lunging forward with a flurry of strikes aimed at its torso. Each hit was as precise as he could make it, aimed at weak points he could identify, but the creature's resilience was unlike anything he had faced before.

It roared in fury, swiping wildly with its claws. Zayn ducked under one strike, feeling the searing heat pass just inches from his face, then rolled away from another.

The fight moved rapidly across the space behind the chief's house. Zayn kept himself hyper-aware of the pile of fireworks nearby, his mind racing with the potential devastation they could cause if ignited. He danced around the creature, using its mindless aggression against it, drawing it away from the volatile materials.

Still, the creature's strength was formidable. A sweeping blow caught Zayn's side, sending him skidding across the dirt. He felt a sharp pain flare in his ribs, and for a moment, the Blood Fever that fueled him faltered as his mind went to the pain instead of the urge to kill. His vision blurred as weakness crept in, his body's wounds and fatigue making themselves known. He bit down hard, forcing the Blood Fever back to the forefront as his mind clearly went to his murderous thoughts.

The burning pain in his muscles became fuel for his bloodlust, his limbs responding to him once more.

The creature charged again, its movements feral and relentless. Zayn ducked low, pivoting on his heel to avoid the onslaught, then retaliated with a sweeping strike that carved a deep gash into its back. The creature stumbled but quickly recovered, turning with an enraged roar. It swiped at Zayn's legs, forcing him to leap backward.

'It's definitely slower than both of them," Zayn thought, assessing its speed. "And not as strong too."

The realization gave him a sliver of confidence. This thing was dangerous, but it wasn't unbeatable. Its attacks were wild, lacking the precision or coordination of the Blood Claws he had fought earlier. Zayn used that to his advantage, staying just out of reach and striking back when openings presented themselves.

The fight was brutal and relentless, each exchange leaving Zayn more exhausted as he found it harder to keep his thoughts on killing things while trying to keep awareness of his surroundings and prevent himself from getting gutted.

Yet, he endured, fueled by the Blood Fervor and sheer determination. He knew he couldn't let this creature win—not here, not now. His thoughts flickered briefly to the fireworks, the potential disaster they represented if the fight moved too close. He redoubled his efforts, pushing the creature further away from the pile with every calculated maneuver.

The creature's fiery aura began to flicker and waver as the fight wore on. Zayn could see it weakening, its movements growing slightly slower, less precise. He pressed the attack, delivering a powerful blow to its shoulder that sent it crashing to the ground. The creature let out a guttural growl, struggling to rise. Zayn didn't hesitate. He drove both bone claws into its chest with all the strength he could muster.

The creature let out a final, agonized scream as its fiery aura flared brightly, then began to dissipate. Its body collapsed, the flames extinguishing as it crumpled into a heap of charred flesh and ash. Zayn stood over it, panting heavily, his hands trembling from the effort.

"Fuck... It wasn't as bad as the monkeys but fuck I'm not some superhuman." he lamented.

The air was still, the only sound was the distant murmur of the festival. Zayn's eyes flicked to the pile of fireworks, relief washing over him when he saw they were untouched.

He wiped sweat and blood from his brow, forcing himself to steady his breathing. Whatever that thing had been, it was gone now. But Zayn couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

The charred, twisted figure of the stepfather lay motionless, his body twitching slightly as faint groans escaped his lips. Zayn approached cautiously, the bone claws still in his hands.

He crouched down, observing the man's burned and broken form. The flames had subsided, but the leathery blackened skin, the grotesque claws, and the smoldering remnants of the necklace fused into his chest told the story of his transformation.

The man's head shifted slightly, his voice rasping, barely audible over the sound of crackling embers. "W-what… happened?"

Zayn hesitated, unsure how to explain the truth to someone in their final moments. "You were... taken over by the necklace," he said flatly. "It wasn't something you could fight."

The man coughed weakly, his voice trembling as he tried to process Zayn's words. "The necklace…? It's for the festival… nothing could be wrong with" His sentences broke apart as confusion clouded his tone. "I… don't understand. Why…?"

Zayn exhaled sharply. "You don't need to understand. You're dying," he stated plainly, his voice devoid of emotion, though his grip tightened on his claws.

The man's breathing hitched as realization dawned. His clawed hand twitched toward his chest, but it dropped limply beside him. "Dying…" he murmured, his voice thick with disbelief. The pause was heavy, the air filled with the weight of mortality. Slowly, his gaze widened although a bit discreetly as he received some sort of revelation. "Listen... you… have to look after her."

Zayn frowned. "Who?"

"My wife… your mother," the man clarified, his voice barely above a whisper. His words came out labored, each one dragging the life from him. "I don't… know what happened. But… I know it's something bad… something worse… is coming."

Zayn's jaw tightened. He didn't answer immediately, his mind racing. He barely knew this man—this family—but the raw sincerity in his words struck a chord, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. After a long moment, he gave a small, reluctant nod. "I'll… see what I can do."

The stepfather's lips trembled in what might have been a faint attempt at a smile. His head lolled to the side, his breathing slowing further. "Thank… you… and please... remember what you saw." His voice trailed off into silence as his chest rose once more before falling still.

There again it was. That sentence, 'remember what you saw'. Didn't he already remember? It was the flash forward of the village's arrival, what else could it have been? And why did he just say it on his death bed instead of clarifying?

Zayn remained crouched for a moment, studying the lifeless body. Though he felt no personal connection to the man, he was just some nameless person in a Story, not really anyone of significance.

But looking at his dead form, he sighed and reached out, closing his eyes respectfully. As his fingers brushed against the burnt skin, the charred remains of the necklace flaked away into ash.

But before Zayn could stand, a shrill scream split the air.