Christopher followed the blood trail, keeping his body as close to the ground as possible.

The path was treacherous, and numerous rocks sank into the muddy ground, but Christopher didn’t dare complain. For one thing, the lack of mosquitos made his journey more bearable.

In the beginning, he lost the trail more than once, only to find it minutes later. But soon, the blood trail grew, its size increasing every fifty steps- Christopher was certain that if the wounded creature hadn’t died, it would soon. No animal could survive losing so much blood. He only hoped whatever had wounded it would not be nearby.

In the distance, his eyes caught a cluster of vertical mossy rocks forming a natural refuge. By its side was a small, mosquito-less pond, and near the entrance, a huge pool of black blood soaked into the dampened ground.

Christopher found a hiding place behind a twisted, leafless tree no more than thirty feet away from the refuge and scouted the place.

His surroundings were silent, and there were no creatures nearby. He squinted his eyes, trying to pierce through the dark clouds in his vision, and focused on the entrance. The trail disappeared inside the shelter. He shouldn't be very deep, but nevertheless, he wouldn't dare to approach it yet.

First, he had to be sure there were no dangerous beasts around. The last thing he wanted was to step inside the shelter and find himself trapped between a wall and a wild beast.

Time trickled by slowly—ten minutes, thirty minutes, one hour. But Christopher was patient. Despite his gnawing hunger, throbbing arm, and sore body, he didn’t rush, as he knew it would be the end of the line for him if he were caught off guard.

Finally, he couldn’t wait anymore. He straightened his legs, dropped his walking stick, and silently approached the entrance, Dead Man’s Stake in hand, ready to use at the first sign of danger.

A thick, metallic scent filled the air as Christopher approached the entrance. He knitted his brows, realizing the absurd amount of blood outside. Blood escaped from the soaked ground as he stepped forward, dirtying his boot.

Christopher froze as he noticed something peeking out of the cave. A long, cylindrical object rested on the floor halfway through the entrance.

Is that a tail?

It wasn't moving. He hesitated before taking another step forward.

It was definitely a tail. He was sure of it. His heart skipped a beat as the memory of the four-eyed wolf popped into his mind, but he brushed away that idea.

The wolf’s tail was thicker and covered in long, dark fur. This one was cylindrical and covered in a short, gray coat—almost like a rat’s.

Christopher watched with interest the light pink skin under the stubble.

It's definitely like a rat’s. He thought.

Only, this tail was at least ten times bigger than a regular rat. For a rat to have a tail this size, he would have to be humongous, larger than a big dog.

With his body pressed against the rock, Christopher hesitated one last time, alert for any sounds coming from inside the shelter.

Nothing.

He took a deep breath before taking a quick peek inside the shelter.

It was smaller than he thought, only a few feet wide. Some feeble rays of light entered from the top, illuminating the cramped space. Gray lichens and bleak green mold clung to the side of the shadowed rocks. And on the floor, curled up into a ball, was a giant rat-like creature.

It had short, gray fur and pink, articulated hands with three long fingers, awkwardly similar to a human’s. Its muzzle was dog-like, if not for the long whiskers and three protruding front teeth, almost as black as the creature’s blood.

With a quick glance, Christopher immediately realized what had killed the creature.

A huge chunk of meat was missing from its neck, revealing broken bones and bloody muscle below. Innumerous cancerous growths festered the sides of the wound, causing a shiver to run through Christopher’s body.

Christopher was surprised the creature had managed to last for so long with such a wound. It must have had impressive resilience.

What sort of monstrous creature could leave such a huge bite? He wondered, and the shadow of a massive black wolf came to his mind.

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With his back drenched in sweat, he focused his attention back on the carcass. The intense smell of blood outside would attract scavengers, so he had to act fast. In fact, he was both relieved and surprised that nothing had stumbled upon the carcass yet.

After checking his pockets in vain, Christopher searched outside for a sharp stone, keeping an eye out in case whatever killed the rat decided to appear.

He went over a few stones until he settled on one that seemed sharp and resistant enough to do the job. Satisfied, he ran back to the carcass and struck it repeatedly, as fast as he could.

There was no way he would manage to pierce the animal’s skin with just a stone, so instead, he resorted to cutting around the tumor-infested wound. He could worry about removing the cancerous growths later. Right now, speed was of the essence.

Christopher worked fast, carving out a big slab of meat, not worrying about the black blood covering his hands.

Soon, he realized that if he grabbed and pulled on the muscle, it almost stripped clean off the bone. Having found a better strategy, he ditched the stone and yanked on the carcass using all his body weight.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, his blood-covered hands started to get numb. And when he noticed the dark blisters rapidly growing on them, it was already too late.

Christopher stepped away from the carcass and ran to the nearby puddle, washing his trembling hands off the dark blood.

“It’s poisonous,” he cried, no longer caring about keeping his voice down.

He raised his hands from the water, now completely clean of blood. Nevertheless, the dark blisters were growing at an alarming rate, swelling his hands and causing an irresistible itch.

Desperate, Christopher scratched his hands, hoping for some relief. But instead, the blisters popped, and a putrid, smelly, dark pus oozed from them.

Panicked, he submerged his hands in the cold water again, finding some relief. He remembered the tumors growing around the massive wound on the rat’s neck. Was he going to end up covered in tumors, too?

A low grunt echoed across the bog.

Christopher shuddered as a terrifying aura appeared behind him, freezing the blood in his veins.

“Not now, please!” he begged, desperate.

He turned around and saw the enormous, dark wolf appearing from between the trees, its glassy, blind eyes staring blankly at the void.

Its limping was more pronounced than before, and huge bald spots were now visible on his body. The flesh around its mouth was deformed and twisted, with visible tumors growing around it, and its guts hung from its abdomen, trailing on the ground below.

Christopher ignored the pain in his hands and rushed towards the shelter, where he had dropped the Dead Man’s Stake. Behind him, he heard another low growl, followed by something galloping in his direction. In a single breath, the wolf was already on top of him.

Strength left his body as the wolf’s aura washed over him, and he had trouble controlling his legs. Christopher did his best to push forward, knowing the monstrous wolf was just a moment away from striking him down.

He jumped forward in a last effort, diving toward the Dead Man’s Stake and landing prone beside it. With no time to get up, he grabbed it with both arms and rolled on his back, facing the monster.

It was just in time. The wolf had just jumped in his direction and landed directly on top of him, impaling himself. Christopher screamed in pain as his chest caved under the beast’s weight, and his hands left the stake.

But the damage was already done. The wolf shivered and whined, its claws striking helplessly at the Dead Man's Stake, now stuck in his chest.

Christopher took advantage of the situation and tried to push the monster away.

You’ve used Breathless Touch. -1 Integrity.

The wolf wailed in a fury, forgetting about the stake. He used its claws to strike across Christopher’s face, carving a deep wound into his skin and almost knocking him out with the impact.

Christopher didn’t even register the pain.

In a desperate struggle, he screamed franticly as he desperately clawed at the wolf’s eyes, not even stopping when its jaws caught his already wounded arm and jerked it viciously, breaking his bones.

Simultaneously, Christopher kicked against the abdomen of the monster, causing even more blood and guts to gush onto the floor. The monster's abdomen was now barely more than an empty sack.

Hurt, the wolf let go of Christopher’s arm and jumped back, groaning.

Christopher could barely catch a breath before it struck again. This time, it sunk its sharp teeth into Christopher's shoulder, piercing cleanly through his skin and attempting to crush his bones.

Runes flashed on Christopher’s vision, but he couldn’t spare them the attention.

He grabbed the monster’s neck with his two hands and bit hard on the wolf’s snout. A metallic, warm liquid filled his mouth as his teeth sank into the monster's flesh.

You’ve used Breathless Touch. -1 Integrity.

Christopher’s teeth scraped against the bone as he tore a chunk of the meat out of the wolf's muzzle. Not losing any time, he kicked as hard as he could again, and another big chunk of something slimy fell from the wolf’s abdomen.

The monster’s crushing bite weakened before it released Christopher’s shoulder, and it stumbled back once more.

For a moment, Christopher hoped the battle had ended, for the wolf would turn around and run away. The reality, however, was brutal.

The wolf’s blind eyes locked into Christopher as an ominous killing aura spread around him.

Raising its head to the sky, it unleashed a guttural howl, causing Christopher to lose all the strength he had left.

She lives.

The muscles on the wolf’s legs contracted before unleashing with explosive force, propelling him through the air at an unnatural speed.

She lives.

The wolf crashed into Christopher, throwing him back like a broken rag doll. It rose its claws in the air before striking at him, tearing his chest apart.

Christopher fell on his back, completely defeated. A pool of clay-red liquid rapidly formed at his feet.

So much blood, he thought as he prepared for the finishing blow to arrive.