Old Eugene was a good man.

Every person in the village knew this. When someone needed help, they would always go to old Eugene, and he would always assist. No one could say a bad word about old Eugene and his small, loving family. Rather, it was a tragic story, which made his good-natured character all more extraordinary.

When he first arrived at the village, some seven years past, old Eugene was simply Eugene. A lost traveller with no home and family to speak of, owing nothing but the worn-out shirt on his back. He fit into the village that very same day, and no one questioned it. In just a few days, he was a part of everyday life, and that was that.

He had become old Eugene.

Although a man in his thirties, he had the behaviour, knowledge and eyes of an elder twice his age. A man of slender build, to the point where one could almost call him sickly but full of life. And even though bold and slightly wrinkled of skin, he was still considered a good-looking man. Married women and maidens alike agreed to this under the disapproving gazes of their husbands and fathers. It was natural that the men folk were initially somewhat suspicious of old Eugine. After all, they knew little of the man and his troubles save that he had traversed the mountains and reached their village. All with no food or warm clothing, and none of the three dozen villagers dared question this inhuman feat. On the contrary, they celebrated this feat, immortalising it in songs and stories. This was just who old Eugene was, and that was that.

A year after his arrival, he married and was soon gifted with a little girl to brighten his life. No one knew when Moliak’s daughter, Alice, had started courting old Eugene. After all, she had turned sixteen that year, and it was only fitting that she would look for a suitable husband. Such was the custom in their little, quiet village. Thus, all just assumed it only natural that she married a man as good and kind as old Eugene. Sadly, soon after the birth of their daughter, Ruby - her father named her because of her bright red eyes - young and beautiful Alice succumbed to the Cold Wasting that took one or two souls every season.

It was just one of the many difficulties the people of the Northern Reaches had to endure, and since he had become one of them, old Eugene endured, never voicing a single word of complaint. And even when his child got sick with the Cold Wasting, he did not give up hope. Instead, old Eugene ransacked the forests at the foot of the mountain for days before returning with the herbs that cured his daughter. Why he did not do this for his wife, no one asked. It was only natural that old Eugene should save the newborn girl because, after all, old Eugene was a good man.

Thus, the years passed, and the girl reached her fifth winter. Sadly, she had to grow up without friends, for all the children born that same year or in the four years since did not survive past their first few months. But luckily for the devastated parents, old Eugene was there with kind words and friendly advice. However, growing up with such a father to aspire to, the girl was found lacking in both character and discipline, and a number of the villagers questioned the girl’s good fortune, while others lamented poor old Eugene’s misfortune. A reclusive, shy and skinny child such as young Ruby should not have survived the long, harsh winters in the village. It was only because old Eugene was a good man that it happened.

For some unknown reason, the local folk noticed - despite how much they tried to ignore it - that in their short time together, father and daughter did not speak to each other often. Many of the villagers believed the child reminded old Eugene too much of the wife he had lost. But since he was a good man, he could not leave poor young Ruby to the fickle whims of fate. In the end, no one questioned old Eugene, and no one tried to give him advice. It was only natural.

Even when the girl did something bad, the villager who was wronged was free to punish her as best they saw fit. This idea her father strongly believed - the entire village was the girl’s family, and as such, everyone had something to teach the small rascal. Truly, old Eugene was a good man.

And so, knowing all this, Darrel was surprised to see the girl wondering about the misty mud-covered street between the houses just after the first light. At this time of day, only the lumberjacks were awake, and since that was the only thing men could do around this village in order to earn some coin, Darrel was no exception. Old Eugene would never allow the girl to go out on such a cold morning with nothing more than the thin tunic she wore.

“Ruby, what are you doing here so early in the day and in this cold? You’ll freeze to death, child,” Darrel said as he rushed towards the girl.

Up close, he could see that her blond hair, as were her clothes and arms, were damp and clogged with mud. The large lumberjack took his deer pelt off and threw it over the girl’s shoulders. “What would your pa say if he sees you like this...”

“I don’t know, Uncle Darrel. There is something wrong with father,” the child’s voice was trembling, and there was confusion in her eyes.

“What’s wrong with old Eugene? Is he ill or something?” Fear gripped the burly man’s heart that his friend might be suffering as they spoke. Darrel looked more carefully at the girl now. There was something he was missing, something his mind failed to comprehend.

“I don’t know. It’s just... Well… father is broken, that’s all,” Ruby looked at her mud-covered hands and then at the lumberjack’s face with her expressionless eyes.

The words were the ramblings of a confused child; however, the way she spoke them gave Darrel pause. As he grabbed Ruby’s hands, the realisation set on him. It was not mud that the girl was covered in. It was blood. He grabbed her in his large, strong arms and made with all haste for old Eugene’s house.

He blinked, the sun’s light blinding him for a moment. Sun! Darrel was confused by the sudden change in the weather. There was not even a hint of the morning mist, and the warmth which caressed his face was that of the noon sun. He still held young Ruby in his mighty grip where the small girl was sleeping blissfully. Around him, his fellow villagers, friends and family alike, had gathered and were talking to him, but he could not understand the words. He shook his head in a futile attempt to clear the confusion from his mind. Slowly and painfully, a headache was building within his skull.

“Speak to me, damn you!” Finally, he could make the pleading voice of his wife, Irene. Panic was written on her face, and she was shaking with fear.

“What has happened?” The question was the first thing to spring to his lips.

“That is what everyone has been asking you! You go out, and two hours later, you call out the entire village in front of old Eugene’s house while clutching his blood-covered daughter!” His wife screamed at him. “Then, when we try to open the door or take the girl, you become violent and even broke Bartan’s nose. So, tell me, husband, what, by the three Hells, has happened here? What madness has possessed you?”

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“I… I don’t know. I don’t remember a thing...” With that admission, the lumberjack finally left the girl in the hands of his wife and slumped on his knees, crying without knowing why.

That was all the villagers were waiting for. Idior and Hasse broke through the door of old Eugene’s home. The women gathered the startled girl and headed towards Bertha’s house, which was the closest one. They had barely made a couple of steps when a scream came from the home of old Eugene. By the time they turned their heads, Hasse was at the doorframe, retching violently. Three more men rushed to aid him.

“No! Stay back!” Hasse spoke between spasms.

He was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when Idior came out as well. The cheery red-faced mountain of a man was as pale as the first snow, and tears ran from his eyes.

“What has happened to old Eugene, Idior?” The men asked as they sat Hasse next to the house’s wooden wall, too fearful to look through the shadowed doorframe.

“I cannot explain it... Even animals would not do such a thing... There is blood and bones and meat... How much is Eugene’s? I cannot even begin to guess,” after that, Idior just stood next to the door, brooding over what he had witnessed.

As he was the only hunter in the village, the man was accustomed to the sight of death and mutilation caused by the predators who roamed the forests of the Northern Reaches.

“Ruby has seen it too! The girl has seen it! We must kill the abomination before it taints us as well!” The mad shriek came from Hasse.

It took four men to restrain him and drag him to his house. Something had snapped in the poor soul, and everyone agreed it would be best if they left him in the care of his wife and three sons. In the end, after lengthy arguments and uncommon violent outbursts, the villagers agreed that the best course of action would be to burn the house with what was left of old Eugene in it. There would be no grave and no mourning songs for their good friend and comrade. Such a thing would have been thought blasphemous, disrespectful at the least, but they all knew that old Eugene would have agreed with them because he was a good man.

As for what was to be done with young Ruby, that debate went on for a few weeks more. During that time, they shoved the girl from one family to the next. No one truly wanted to keep the child because everyone suddenly realised that they did not like the girl at all. They had tolerated her for the sake of her father. Therefore, the village came to the agreement that they would feed her as a last good gesture towards the memory of old Eugene, nothing more.

For the next seven years, that was what the village did. They provided food for the girl for the first few years and the bare minimum of clothing till she was strong enough to hunt on her own and smart enough to know which plants were edible and which would kill her. As for shelter, the lumberjacks provided her with enough material for a rundown shack she could call home. Like this, Ruby grew even more reclusive. People rarely saw the girl for days; however, no one found it necessary to check on her. If she would die, well, that would be one less worry off their minds.

During that time, more distressful things happened. Barely the first snows of winter had settled in when Hasse left his wife and children one day, never to be heard from again. Idior the hunter took his own life soon after, and Darrel aged to a husk of a man because of some strange and never before seen illness. Come spring, he, too, was gone.

As if to spite them all and to enforce their distaste for her, Ruby grew strong and healthy. This was something no one in the village had expected. A girl did not grow strong without proper meals and care. Thus, after the girl’s thirteenth winter since her birth, the people decided that they would tolerate her plagued presence no more.

Only if they had listened to Hasse and killed the girl for the abomination she was, but no one had listened to the poor man then. Now, now people listened and more - they acted. With the coming of dusk, the men gathered around the poor excuse of a house the girl spent her life in. Each carried a makeshift weapon in his hands. Be it a woodsman’s axe, a pitchfork or just a simple cattle stick, they planned to use it on the girl. In their eyes, this was justice, and even old Eugene would have agreed to it were he still alive.

“Come out of your whole abomination!” The crowd shouted as one, and at the same time, a few torches landed on the roof and around the walls. Surprisingly, the damp wood quickly caught fire and filled the single-room shack with smoke.

“That’s it, men! Smoke her out like the beast she is!” Bloodlust had gained control over the crowd, and as they shouted and cursed the girl’s existence, a few of the men were bickering in between themselves.

“Why?” The question came from behind them. Ruby’s soft voice carried to each one of the men in the sudden quiet. “What have I ever done to you to deserve this?” Every word was spoken slowly, as if the girl was making sure each one of them came out right and could not be misinterpreted.

“You are an abomination, and that is all we need to know! Death has always followed you! Even old Eugene was taken from us because of you!” One villager screamed in Ruby’s face—one of Hasse’s sons.

The light of the fire reflected in the girl’s bright red eyes, so full of confusion. Someone threw a rock at her head before she could speak or even defend herself. The blow made the young girl tumble to the ground. This was the sign the rabid crowd seemed to have been waiting for as they surrounded her and delivered savage blows on her body and head. An axe rose and fell, followed by the sound of metal hitting metal. This stopped all motion, and the people parted in fear as a herd of docile sheep.

Ruby was writhing on the ground, rust-coloured bone plates piercing her skin and covering her exposed flesh. In just a few heartbeats, she was clad in blood-covered armour made of what looked like aged bone plates from the neck down. Half her face was deformed in a demonic mask which leered at the frightened villagers, fang-like teeth glistening dark red and one empty foul eye stared at them with hatred.

Shakily, the girl got to her feet and snarled at the gathered crowd. The part of her face which could pass for that of a person twisted in a murderer’s grin. The shadows produced by her burning home danced and outlined her wolfish features. For the first time, the gathered men saw the girl was not human at all. It confirmed all their theories and accusations, which would have sent them to the heights of ecstasy. Instead, this revelation made them cower like powerless children.

With a savage cry, she leapt for one of Hasse’s sons, tearing his throat open with her teeth before the two of them even hit the ground. Many would have said she was truly a beast, far too savage and far too fast for the villagers, who had gathered to kill her, to oppose. A mistake. One the villagers never realised. As feral as the orphaned child was, she was still but a child, a frightened one at that.

By the time the men could gather their wits, Ruby was a hurricane of motion, and each time she moved, she brought nothing but death. On her right, a man got his ribcage torn open by talon-like fingers. On the left, another had his skull caved in by a savage kick. Yet another had an arm ripped clean out of its socket, which was then used to strike the man opposite across the throat. And more and more mindless slaughter was inflicted upon those who had bared their teeth at her.

Ruby’s brutally fuelled her rage, and she was lost to it. Unthinking, she carried on venting her anger at those whom she had once called friends and family. Before the night was over, the village was all but ashes. Fire raged in many a home, and where it went, it hid the slaughter caused by the thirteen-year-old girl. The few wretched souls who escaped the carnage would later swear on their lives that come the morning, the dead had risen, groaning and moaning but not daring to move away from the spot they were killed on. And those few survivors would attest to the lord back in Hester that the girl had not run into the south lands, past the mountain, but further within the Northern Reaches—a fitting place for such an abomination.

And to this day, they would shake their heads when recalling old Eugene and the terrible injustice done to him. Poor old Eugene, his wife taken away from him and the daughter he loved and cherished most in life, cursed and possessed by a demon. Each night, they would cower in their beds and fear the shadows, for they knew Ruby would exact her terrible wrath upon them one day.