Chapter Text

Chapter one: Cruelty

            The Wolf ran through the white forest, weaving through the trees with a clumsy grace. Appearing to the trees as a greyish, blue blur. They were on all fours and running hard. The blizzard had made travel impossible, and had kept him away from home long enough. It was night, and freezing. But the blizzard died down enough for him to endure the cold for now.

            Thoughts raced through his mind. Questions of if his family was ok, and if they had been fine without him for the night. His mother was sick but fortunately was recovering slowly. The sickness she suffered from made her weak, and what little food they had left for the last weeks of winter was not enough to let her recover strongly. He had insisted on going to town early to sell what little supply of goods they had before spring. But he was late now, the storm ensured it. So he ran as hard as he could with little regard for how his lungs felt sore, or how his nose and mouth were freezing and dry. Or how his fur was slowly getting heavier with the snow fall.

            When he finally arrived, it was pitch black with the only light illuminating his path being the full moon. His eyes quickly adjusted as they dilated, hungry for light. He looked imposing in the darkness, a stark contrast to how he presented himself in the day. Here he could stand tall and proud. Without judgement for his massive size. Here it was a blessing that allowed his family stability through work, while outside the mountain it made him an unconscious threat to many.

            He was a grey wolf, born to a family of grey wolves, and towered over others of his kind. As such he saw before anything how dark his house was in the distance, as the head level fence was mere neck height for him. The lamps that should be burning were out, and an ominous silence filled the air. Then he smelled it. His elevated, even supernatural, sense of smell allowed him to pick up the faint hint of metal in the air. It was fresh, strong. It was blood. He dropped his pack.

            He ran to the house. His heart racing.

            His thoughts raced as he tried to rationalize what he smelled.

            “Someone must have cut themselves… ” Something, Something. There had to be a rational explanation. But his nose told him a hard reality. And the lack of any sound bolstered it into a blade that plunged deep into his heart and writhed like an ocean. His stomach threatened to expunge its contents, or maybe it fell deeper into a pit of sorrow. He couldn’t tell.

            Then he saw the blood. He saw how it stained the walls a repulsive red as it soaked into the wood. The smell of blood was all there was. All he could hear was a ringing now. He ran to the door and had nearly tripped as his whole body felt numb. The only thing that guided him was a want, a need to know what had happened.

            Throwing open the sliding door he immediately gave in to the sick feeling in his stomach. The door had held back the worst of it all, but now it was now laid bare to him. He let out a cry and ran to them as he wept and let the tears flow, but he didn’t scream. He just…fell to the floor. Letting it all wash over him. Inside he saw the dead bodies of those he called family laid out in fear, terror. Their blood staining everything and desecrating the place he called home. Turning it from a familiar and warm place into this cold, uncanny location. He picked up his mother’s and siblings’ hands hoping to feel something. Anything that told him they were still here, but nothing. He couldn’t bear to stay there long and stepped outside when he could finally walk again.

            Outside in the snow all he could do was stand there. He stared up at the stars and tried not to cry. Memories flooded his mind. Thoughts were a turbulent current that paralyzed him. He couldn’t think properly.

            He questioned if it was his fault. Whether it was because he was late that this gruesome fate had befallen his family. All he could do was ask question after question as the snow fell all around him. Despite his fur, he felt a cold that encompassed him and made him feel numb to everything. He wanted to fall, to give up. Curl into a ball and wake up to see them all breathing again. To hear their laughs. To see his siblings run around and wag their tails with a vigor that knocked objects off the table. He wanted to them smile. But now all he could see was the blood that surrounded them.

            He let out a scream. Something primal. Something that told a million stories, and he let it all out again. Tears stung his eye as the cold threatened to freeze them there, and his legs gave out. He sat there as the snow fell and built up on him, and cried.

            He didn’t know how long he had been there outside. The smell of blood a constant reminder of the nightmare he was living. Then he knocked out of it all as a hand lay upon his shoulder and grabbed him, hard. A bolt of pain was sent through him. And he was pulled up faster than he could react. He didn’t even hear them approach despite the snow that surrounded them.

            He was limp and weak. Moved only by the stranger in front of him. A strange creature that didn’t register as anything he knew. They were wearing a strange jacket that he had never seen before, and that was dyed the most peculiar color: pink. And they wore a hat that covered his face with a veil. Gnarly horns spiraled out of holes on top the hat and threatened to jam themselves into him. His horns looked like that of a gazelle, but his smell was that of a predator. A leopard.

            It was now that The Wolf noticed how his legs dangled in the air, but he was defeated. He felt like he was being examined. The stranger’s eyes boring into him, looking past his clothing, body, and form. He was looking deeper. At something that only he could see.

            Then he fell back on the ground, this time standing on his own two legs. And for the first time, he heard the stranger speak.

            “You are much different from those inside that disgusting hovel. I think you’ll do nicely.”

            At this, a rage consumed The Wolf. ‘How dare he disrespect the dead, his family?’ he thought.

            Then tried to push the stranger away. But he didn’t budge, rather he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. It burned, and he let out a cry, not of grief, but of agony. He looked down and the pain exploded throughout his body, It was worse then anything he had ever experienced before. His legs gave out but he didn’t fall. He was being held there by the stranger. He tried to fight back, tried to escape, tried to do anything but just accept this but he couldn’t do anything.

            He saw the stranger’s hand deep within his stomach. He felt it piercing through flesh and muscle. The stranger’s hand pulsated as something passed through it, and grew into a gross undulating mass that threatened to swallow his torso. He felt as a freezing sensation overtook him, so cold it burned. And the stranger looked on with apathy. The stranger was saying something, but The Wolf couldn’t hear him.

            Before long The Wolf was dropped on the ground unceremoniously. Laying there in the snow he felt nothing, and saw the stranger watch on as the world grew foggy. Looking down he saw his wound open and close with every breath. But the strangest thing was how white the snow was, and how his wound did not bleed despite its gaping size. He struggled to do something, anything as his breathing slowed. As he lay there, the stranger walked away, and all he could think in that  moment was…

            “Why can’t I hear my heart…”

<><><>

            The Wolf threw the pack over his shoulder and heaved it effortlessly. It was full of charcoal that he intended to sell. As he walked towards the house to say ‘bye’ to his mother he was ambushed by his siblings. Three grey wolves like him.

            “Come play Big Brother,” they laughed as they ran around in a circle around Legoshi’s legs.

            He smiled and said, “I can’t I have to sell this for mom.”

            A collective “Awww” followed, and their ears drooped. At this he kneeled down to them and put a hand on their head.

            “I promise, Next time I’ll play, and we can have all the fun you want.”

            “O-kayyy” they sighed

            And off again they went, chasing each other in a game. The Wolf slid open the door gently as not to startle his mother. She laid there on the floor. A rag on her head, and blankets laid over her. Her fur lacked sheen and was a dull grey, even white in some places. Legoshi walked over and kneeled next to her, taking her hand in his.

            “I’m going into town now mom, I want there to be enough food for you to recover strong.”

            She opened her eyes, and Legoshi saw her grey eyes. They looked at him gently and weakly she replied, “you don’t have to do that son. Just be strong for me.”

            “I can’t I want you to be better, I want to know you’ll get better, and food and medicine can help that.”

            “Ok, then… just don’t stay out too long. A storm is coming. And you know we need you… Legoshi” she said, a small cough escaped her mouth

            “Ok mom, I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Legoshi said as he gently laid her hand back down, covering it with blankets again.

            “I’ll see you soon…” said again as he closed the door.

            Outside he saw his siblings and called them over. Soon there were six little wolves in line called over by their big brother.

            “I want all of you to take care of mom, and make sure the fire is going for her, and that you all finish your chores.”

            They collectively agreed to his request and hugged him one by one. And slowly Legoshi walked away. Looking back one last time and waving back to his siblings as they all waved back.

            The path down the mountain was hard and often took several hours even on a good day. And today was no different. He ran through the trees on all fours, something he would never do when others were around but did when speed was essential. He weaved between trees and looked like a blur to the forest around. When he neared the city he slowed and walked on his feet. Inside he met many familiar faces, and sold his charcoal to those around.

            “Hey Legoshi, can you help?” was what he heard the rest of the day.

            On the way back it was already twilight, and the sun was a weak orange on the horizon, but even that was hard to see. A blizzard had hit the town, and he was trapped in it. The dim flames inside of lamps were the only thing guiding him through the streets. When he finally reached the outskirts of the town all he saw was pitch black. It was hard to see, the mountain he needed to go to wasn’t visible in the storm. His eyes stung from the cold, and his mouth was becoming dry with frost.

            “Over here!” someone yelled.

            Looking over he saw a door open. The yellow light spilling out and guiding him there. As he got closer he saw it was an older animal that he recognized. Another Canidae that had grown old, with his fur turning grey and white. He invited Legoshi inside and let him sit near the fire.

            “Thank you, sir.”

            “It’s no problem. You have helped plenty, its good to repay kindness…Sleep the night here. That storm is impossible to get through.” He said as he threw Legoshi a mat and blanket.

            “You don’t want demons to hunt you down…”

            “What do you mean?” Legoshi said.

            “I mean that there are dangerous things out there at night, made even worse by this storm.”

            “Am I safe here?”

            “Far from it, but it’s better than out there.”

            “Well, if it isn’t safe, then why don’t you move?”

            “Because the Slayers keep us safe, and let us worry about our normal problems…Now go to sleep, you’ll need to be well rested”

            Legoshi found it hard to rest that night. He listened to the wind howling outside. He kept remembering the old man’s words. ‘Demons…’ He pondered it. He never saw any demons, and had only heard stories about them from his mother. She always assured them they were safe inside with her. But…

            He cast those thoughts aside, and decided to worry about what he could see. The storm outside. After what felt like days the howling died down. Being quiet he looked outside through a window he slid open carefully. The storm had died down and it was a gentle snowfall now. He wanted to go home and make sure his family was safe. So he did.

            Being careful not to wake the old man he snuck out with all his stuff and made the trip back up the mountain. He was tired, but the pit in his stomach didn’t allow him to feel it. He travelled by moonlight. His eyes allowing him to see better than most as he slowly started a jog. Then a run. Then he dropped and began to sprint on all fours, tracing his way back home as fast as he could.

Chapter Text

            Thump

            Legoshi’s mind was flooded with memories that felt familiar, but he couldn’t quiet place them. Memories that evoked a sense of nostalgia. Happiness. Warmth. But he also felt a deep dread and anguish. He felt the name “Legoshi” belonged to him, but it felt disconnected.

            Thump

            So much was happening in his mind at once, but they kept getting shut out by a singular thought, an image or a memory? A being with horns, that smelled of a leopard and dressed in pink. A name reverberated through his mind. Weaving itself inside his consciousness. “Melon.” It was a name that felt strange. Like it should evoke something deep within him. But it didn’t. An unconscious thought that slowly tried to grow but was blocked out by something inside him.

            Thump

            When Legoshi awoke he heard his heart beating again. Slowly and steadily. It was loud in his ears. He was lying there in the snow, as the sun shined brightly through the leaves above in neat rays. His head hurt and his body felt cold but burned. Like a fire was licking at him. Looking down he saw it wasn’t just a feeling, but what was happening. He saw whisps of black smoke as his fur was burned in small, fine flames. His skin turning black where the sun’s rays touched. Exposing the red flesh beneath. Scrambling to get up he threw himself against a tree hoping for shade, but it was only a small reprieve as the beams were everywhere. Looking around he saw a house and ran to it, running through the pain he heard more of himself ignite and burn. He threw himself against the door and slid it open quickly. Running inside and slamming it shut as the sun fully rose and threatened to turn him to ash. He looked back and saw how the sunlight was reduced to a harmless golden glow through the paper door. His senses were numb and he could barely stay awake. His vision was blurry and disorientating. Turning every which way but never straight. His ears rung as the beating of his heart filled them. His nose and throat felt full, and clogged. He tried to heave but could only and fail. His body felt like it was on fire, but he could feel it no longer burned from the sun.

            Stumbling through the house in a drunken daze he sat down on the floor in room. It felt good, a comfortable cold. He felt a dull warmness here, a stark contrast from the burn just seconds ago. Looking at his hands and arms, he saw there were patches of black from where he saw the sun hit, and small red bits here and there inside those darker burns. Patches of burnt fur here and there from when he was running. But in what little light there was he saw a steam rising from his body. He felt as his skin moved and very slowly healed. He couldn’t bear to look for long as his eyes had begun to hurt. That pounding in his skull was getting worse. He felt something deep inside him stir, The Hunger he felt was beyond everything, but it only added to what he was feeling. Everything hurt, but despite that he still felt so tired. Slowly, as he sat there, he began to lie down. Drifting in and out of sleep, before finally he closed his eyes and let the current take him.

            Legoshi found himself looking through the eyes of someone sitting in the snow. His senses were dull but he felt…strange. His heart felt like it was being squeezed, it hurt. But he didn’t feel any injuries. He listened, and heard…crying? He felt as his eyes began to sting both  from the cold and with how wet it felt. Then he found himself in the air. Looking back at a familiar sight.

            He relived his death again, he knew this, but this time when he fell, he continued to fall. Far into his mind, then it stopped. He was surrounded by water, yet he felt strangely calm. Then he heard a voice. That voice, ‘Melon’s.’ It was hard to make out, distorted, like it was subconsciously being filtered. But it reverberated through his skull regardless and like a parasite tried to dig deep. He felt it drill, and is it did it sent s sharp pain through his head. He tried to block it out by covering his ears but it would not stop. Then it stopped. Suddenly he felt warm and safe as he felt hands wrap around his and pull them off his head. A feeling of familiarity washed over him, and he felt at ease. He closed his eyes as he drifted closer to the unknown person. The pulled him into a gentle embrace, and in a soft, gentle voice. He heard a woman speak into his ear.

            “Wake up…”

            When he opened his eyes he heaved and threw up on the floor. It was mostly blood, red and dark. Sitting up he felt his face with his hands. It felt wet. Looking up at the ceiling he could tell it was full daylight outside. The house… No, his Home was bathed in a golden light as he stared up at the ceiling. A tear fell slowly fell from his eye and rolled down his face. Memories gently returned to him, but there were holes. He could tell. Faces were missing, names were hazy, and images felt blurry. But the one thing  that he felt in its entirety, was the emotions attached to each one. Happiness, warmth, anguish, grief… And although he couldn’t remember who they were, he knew that just behind him laid a gruesome sight. His heart ached as he tried to remember their names. Who they were exactly but he couldn’t, and that made his heart feel a deep pain, his palms and stomach ached as he sat there. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something… But just for this moment he looked at the ceiling. At the wood, at all the little chips and cracks. Just for a small moment he wanted to ignore it, pretend that it was a dream. Pretend that everything was normal. Pretend that the smell of blood wasn’t so sickeningly sweet.

            As he sat there his senses returned to him slowly. Dull at first, but steadily growing stronger as the seconds passed. Soon his senses were overloading him. His burns no longer hurt but he couldn’t really feel them asides from a sense of heat. His eyes felt overwhelmed by how white everything looked, and his nose felt stronger than ever before, it didn’t help the nausea he felt. If he concentrated, he could swear he saw hazy lines that told him where everything was. How the air carried each scent, and how the air was filled with a red haze.

            He looked down and inspected himself. He remembered a sharp pain in his stomach, yet there was nothing now. Only the cream colored fur of his stomach and some minor burn marks. His eyes looked a little to his side at landed on his shirt, or what was left of it. He felt it was far from reparable and decided to rip a small piece from what was left. Rolling them up into small wads and plugging his nose with them. The smell of blood was finally gone, and with it, he could finally think better. His headache was alleviated but not fully gone. He felt a deep hunger inside himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything. Images of the blood on the walls and the bodies flashed through his mind. And it took everything in him not to think about it, and everything more to not throw up. That ache in his heart was still there and only got stronger when he looked in the direction of the bodies. He knew he couldn’t just leave them there.

            He changed his torn and bloody clothes into something clean. He let his memory guide him to a new set of clothes. All black, simple but durable. Looking around he saw several blankets and decided to wrap the bodies in them. As he got closer to them though The Hunger inside him flared up despite the clogs he put in his nose he swore he could smell the blood. He felt his mouth salivate and felt disgusted at himself for it. He had to close his eyes as he wrapped them. The Hunger was still there, reminding him with each little breath, but the feelings he felt towards the bodies were what let him hold back. He couldn’t no matter how starved he felt. He lifted each of them one by one, gently, and carefully. He could tell each of them was important to him, each had their own story, his aching heart and shaky hands told him that. He lined them up near the door as he thought of what to do next.

            Looking at his hands, he remembered how the sun burned, even now there was still parts of his arms and torso that was black. All the red was gone. A dull, uncomfortable feeling of heat was all that remained, but even now that feeling was slowly fading. He felt a danger just looking at the paper, and how it glowed a bright yellow white. An instinct foreign to him told him to hide. To go deeper into the house and hide under something, to hide from the sun. But memories told him of its warmth and how good it felt. Curiosity drove him forward, and so he lay his hand on the paper squares. Feeling them. He felt how the winter air made it a comfortable cold, but he also felt a heat emanating from it. Separate, from the cold, yet felt in the same hand. Opening the door a crack he let a beam of sunlight in. A pure ray that highlighted the wood and dust in the air. And slowly he raised his hand to it.

            It burned. The grey fur on his hand shriveled and smoked, then caught fire. What little skin the sun touched turned a lighter shade of pink as it felt an intense burning sensation. He pulled his hand out before it got worse. The heat didn’t penetrate deeply, but it still hurt a lot. Too much to keep it there longer than a few seconds. And definitely too much to go outside where he would be fully exposed. He needed protection. Looking at how the paper on the door dispersed the light he got an idea and found a pair of gloves. This time his hand fared better. Feeling only a slight warmth where the light was. Although uncomfortable, it was bearable.

            Outside he was nearly blinded as his eyes tried to adjust to the snow-covered land. His hat was wide, and blocked the sun from hittin his face and neck, though he had to attach a cloth underneath to block the sun from poking through the holes in it. Despite the freezing cold air, he still felt warm. The sun was diluted by his clothing, but it still had an effect on him. An uncomfortable warmth that persisted through everything he did. And throughout it all, that instinct was still at the back of his mind telling him he shouldn’t be outside.

            Eventually Legoshi was kneeling in front of seven graves. His eyes closed and hands pressed together as everything was silent, it felt…right. He pondered his situation in silence. He had to leave. He couldn’t stay there. He didn’t want to stay at a home with no warmth, and that was haunted by such a nightmare. But what drove him most was a feeling inside his heart. It burned in a different way than he felt before. A fire fed by hatred and a need for revenge. That figure kept popping up in his thoughts.

            “…Melon…”

            Inside he packed what supplies he could find. Moving silently so as not to disturb it.  He stood over the scene. It was still bloody, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave it that way. The blood was mostly dried, and was a ugly brown, far from the vibrant red he remembered. It stained the walls as it seeped into the wood. Dropping his pack he got to work with nothing but a rag and some water. He scrubbed hard, trying to get it out of the wood as much as possible. He was closer to the blood than he’d ever been. He felt it spike again, The Hunger. He could smell the blood through the clogs in his nose. It smelled so sweet and promising. He tried to ignore it and remind himself who’s blood was. It disgusted him, but that nagging feeling was there and only got worse as he cleaned.

            “Just a little taste…” was what a dark part of his mind told him. The Beast.

            “No…” He said. He was talking to himself now.

            “We both feel it…”

            “No, it will go away with enough rice, grain, something…”

            “It won’t work…”

            Legoshi was concentrated on the work. Focused on the blood. So focused… He suddenly found himself even closer to it. His nose mere inches before it. It smelled so…good, Sweet… Then he felt his skin burn as he unknowingly moved into a beam of sunlight. He hadn’t closed the sliding door all the way, and in his hypnotic state, failed to realize how close he was to it. It burned his snout and scorched his tongue. And in that moment of lucidity, he pulled himself back in disgust.

            “This hunger will only grow you know…”

            “But we can fight against it…It doesn’t have to be this way…”

            “Maybe…”

            The Beast receded back into his mind as he regained his composure. The Hunger was still there, but he had to control it. He couldn’t make the same mistake again…

            He had only a pack with some spare clothes, some rations, money, and a small hatchet. He looked at the food in his hands, wrapped in a paper. He felt guilty. Responsible, as he looked at it. It’s weight felt heavier than it weighed. Like it was this small pack of rations that caused so much to happen. He felt himself tearing up more but bottled it. Crying would do no good right now. He still felt starving but could not bring himself to eat anything. It was something he had to put off for now.

            Then outside he heard the snow crunch. His ears twitched and pinpointed the source of the sound. He took the plugs out of his nose to try and get a better read on the stranger outside. He could tell that they were walking around his house, and walking with a light step. A small metallic rattle could be heard, almost too quiet to perceive. Their smell was unfamiliar, but he could tell they were dangerous by the strange scent in the air. It was metallic. Not blood or iron, but something else entirely, his hairs stood on end subconsciously. He quickly, but silently got by the door. Waiting for this stranger to pass by.

            Instead, they stayed. Legoshi didn’t know how long they were there outside, but he kept hearing the stranger walking from all around the home.  They were searching for something. But Legoshi knew that there was nothing worthwhile for thieves and robbers. Then the sound changed. It changed from the sound of crunching snow to the gently tap of wood. A shadow appeared on the door and Legoshi finally got an idea of the animal outside. The shadow cast on the door was taller than him and had a thin build. Three even knocks emanated from the door then silence.

            Legoshi slowly approached the door while putting his hat on and slid it open a small crack. Careful to keep the hat in line with the sun. Through the small opening he saw the stranger even clearer now. They wore a black hakama, with a matching jacket that was buttoned up neatly. Shiny gold buttons gleamed in the sun. It gave a professional aura, with no wrinkles or creases. He wore a haori on top which was a bright yellow with a orange hexagon pattern. He noticed a glimmer of something on his hip, a chain that ended in two, similarly looking blades. They were sheathed for now in thick wrappings that made it almost disappear in the darkness of his haori. A strange weapon of some kind. It had a strange scent, stranger than any metal Legoshi ever smelled, and gave off a repulsive aura to the thing inside him.

            He was tall,  his face was hidden by the hat Legoshi wore, and the only indicator of what he was, was his hands. They were a burnt orange color, with black claws that were kept shorter than average for a Canidae. He had a perplexing scent, one that matched neither fox, or wolf, or any other Canidae. Then he spoke in a professional tone, no hesitation or hint of uncertainty.

            “Hello, I’m here due to reports of a dangerous individual in the area. Have you noticed anything strange?”

            Legoshi was nervous. Was he talking about him? No, he hadn’t been seen by anyone…Then it clicked. Melon. The one who killed him and left him to rot.

            Nervously he tried to speak but found he couldn’t. He panicked and tried harder. A gross garble came from his mouth before he wrapped his hand around his snout.

            He shook his head rapidly instead.

            The stranger shuffled a bit before awkwardly giving a “hmmm.”

            Legoshi’s heart begun to beat faster as he panicked silently. How was he going to get rid of this stranger at his door? He didn’t know what to do. Legoshi felt even worse now. The hair on his tail and hands were standing tall, and his legs felt like they wanted to give out. He felt so tired still. His head hurt, and he just wanted to sleep. That hunger was still there. Gnawing at him. The Beast wanted out and Legoshi was rapidly losing the battle to keep it under control. A feeling of danger emanated from this man, driving his already tense nerves higher. Broken memories flashed in his mind. They conveyed ideas, but he couldn’t get a clear picture from them. Then he heard a voice. A old man’s words echoed in his head.

            “…Demons…hunt…The Slayers keep us safe…”

He gripped the door frame hard, as he began to really panic. A small audible crack came from it. If the animal in front of him heard it, he didn’t show any sign of it. Rather he stepped back. His shadow no longer on Legoshi.

            ‘What is he thinking?... I can’t see his face, he can’t see mine…He can’t think I’m a Demon right? No…I’m nothing like that true Demon…Melon.’ Legoshi thought

            He felt that uncomfortable warmth again, and it only reminded him of how changed he was. He wanted to go back inside and rest. To sleep and find some sort of freedom from this hunger.

            Then he heard that voice inside his head again.

            “Kill him…”

            “no…” Legoshi thought. This can be resolved peacefully and…

            “KILL HIM.” The voice shouted in his mind. Ringing through it like a bell, echoing louder and louder. The Hunger, The Beast was growing beyond him.

            “Eat him…”

            “No.” He held his head as he swayed drunkenly. He was losing grip. He felt like he was about to fall. His chest felt tight and he heard his heart beat ever louder. His legs felt weak. He felt dizzy and gripped the door harder. He felt short of breath and began breathing harder. He had to get away from this threat, this man. He tried to step back into the house but only made it a few sluggish steps before he fell to the ground.

            The Hunger was all he felt. His vision grew hazy and the smell of the stranger’s flesh was strong on his mind. He felt his hands grow larger and crack the wood below him as he gripped it hard. His senses sharpened rapidly. He could smell the blood soaked into the floor, faded but not gone. He could taste the scent of flesh in his mouth, the stranger’s. He could hear their heart beat as the blood flowed through their veins. He heard as chains hit the ground, and could smell that strange metal again, stronger this time.

            His mouth salivated as his vision turned dark. The world faded as it lost all color. He could see a red, smoke-like haze emanating from something. It wrapped around the room and guided itself towards him. Desire took hold of him as he took a deep breath of the air, blood. Fresh, living, strong blood. He looked around the room as Hunger set in, stronger than he ever felt. Then he saw it, a vessel containing everything he was looking for. While he couldn’t ‘see’ the beautiful red core, he could hear it beat calm and rhythmically, he could smell the rich sustenant tissue that wrapped around it, he could almost taste the sweet taste of blood.

            He couldn’t think straight. A deep, guttural growl came from his throat. Then, in one explosive movement, he charged without a second thought.

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            Connor was a Maned Wolf. Rare and relatively unknown, and as such he found he was often mistaken for a really tall fox. Connor was also blind.

            He relied on his ears to do the work of ‘seeing’ the world around him. He was thankful for his big, and sensitive ears. Which were how he sensed something was wrong during the questioning of a abnormally large grey wolf. He had come to the area due to reports of a serious danger to a family who lived here. Yet when he arrived all he heard was a silence. Far from what he expected. Getting closer, he grabbed a small length of chain from his waist and slowly swung it. Letting it rattle as he concentrated on how the sound moved and interacted with the air. He had a ‘picture’ of the scene. Six small graves and one big one, a small house with one occupant inside, a shed, and wood pile. He noticed that the occupant inside was trying to be as silent as possible. He heard them breathing quietly, and heard their heart beating slowly, dragging each one out as it almost struggled to do so. Searched the area he felt an indent in the snow. It was rather large, and tracing it out he felt something dry, crusty. Grabbing a handful of snow he lifted it up to his nose. Blood, a lot of it. Too much for someone to survive. He walked around the house but found nothing, and decided it was finally time to talk to the occupant inside.

            He knocked three times, even and measured. Giving him a better picture of who was inside. A tall Canidae, he was certain, but they were abnormally large, even for the largest of the species.  Something to note down. They opened the door a small crack. Connor noticed how they kept their head down, not bowing, but refusing to look up. He decided to ask them if they had seen anything. But instead of any response they let out a small, wet garble, like something was stuck in their throat. Quickly they grabbed their snout and opted to shake their head rapidly. ‘Maybe a yes?’

            He heard their heart spike in activity. ‘Was he lying, or just nervous?’ Then he heard a small crack from the door frame.

            But even more, Connor noticed that even as their heart sped up, it was still so sluggish. Barely matching a person’s heart at rest. Then he decided to test something. Slowly he stepped back and turned his head. Assuming he got the position of the sun right he should have let a beam of light hit the occupant. He was confirmed correct as they had a reaction to it.

            They swayed a little bit, their balance seemingly only kept by the door frame. He heard a small groan from The Wolf as their grip tightened even more on the door, It was breaking now. Then he heard it, a ‘snap’ as something inside The Wolf broke free, spreading through the body. Connor felt a sadness for The Wolf as he stepped away and stood in the snow. Unsheathing their weapon and letting the chain graze the ground. Slowly swinging it, like a serpent ready to strike.

            Inside he heard the terrible sounds of transformation. A hiss emanated from their body, and he heard how muscle ripped and healed stronger than before. Bone grew and hardened with small cracks and crackles, and claws scratched the floor before digging in. He heard The Wolf groan and whine as they changed. They always fought back before embracing it…

            Then slowly, it became a growl as they slowly got up. They were taller now, matching Connor in height. He thought to himself as he waited those few seconds, “usually they don’t last this long…”

Then he felt their eyes on him. Even though he couldn’t see he felt the feeling of hunger and desire zero in on him. A hate was there, but was nothing compared to The Hunger. He heard as claws dug into the floor and a loud, hungry growl before the Demon before him charged.

            A huge monster burst out of the door. It had no technique and was driven only by a lust for flesh. Connor took a deep breath, as time seemed to slow for him. He hissed and like small whisps of smoke escaped from the edges of his mouth. Then, in a step he was right beside it. The demon was slow and couldn’t react as Connor delivered a devastating kick to the Demon. Sending it flying back inside the house. It was weak. Common for a freshly turned. Connor thought about what to do next as it tried to recover. Its mass laying there as its wounds sizzled and mended terribly slowly.

            It was weak, weak enough to handle easily, and unable to hurt him. He doubted it could even break through the black jacket he wore underneath his haori.  He thought about it. The Final Selection was coming up, the final test for new Demon Slayers, and he had yet to make a contribution to the ring this year. This was his chance. With a calm step he approached the Demon as it lay there. He heard bones slowly mend into place, and several cracks as he got closer. A small inaudible sizzle could be heard as flesh mended and grew. He heard it move its neck to look at him, and a small growl emanated from the Demon’s throat. It was filled with a mix of hatred and hunger for him. But all it could do was growl. As it lie there.

            Sheathing his weapon, he kept a good length of chain in his and began to spin it.

            “Apologies for the pain, but I can’t take chances.”

            Then he swung the chain at the Demon’s head. He heard and felt a solid impact, then the Demon stopped growling. He was careful not to crack their skull or pierce skin as he didn’t want to get his clothing dirty. The properties of his weapon would slow down the already weak healing abilities of this newly born Demon. But now Connor faced a new problem…

            “How…am I…Gonna get you all the way there…” He said to himself, while thinking. He thought about what there could be to there to transport the rather large Demon. Then he remembered. There was a cart outside.