Kael pushed through the underbrush with the Alpha hunter's arm slung over his shoulders, the man's weight dragging like wet iron. Every breath burned his ribs. Every step left a smear of his own blood on the earth. His vision kept pulling in and out of focus—narrowing, widening—like his mind couldn't decide whether to stay with his body or drift somewhere safer.
But stopping wasn't an option.
Behind him, the explosion still smoldered—embers drifting like red snow through the trees, ash settling on the ground in a lazy, uncaring fall. And from that same direction came the answering howl.
A sound that split the night.
A sound that summoned monsters.
The Alpha hunter coughed painfully, blood flecking Kael's sleeve.
"Easy," Kael muttered. His voice sounded distant in his own ears—tight, fraying, too thin. "Don't talk. Just—stay awake."
The man gave a weak, rasped chuckle. "You're… worse off than I am, kid."
"Not true."
Lie.
Both of them knew it.
The Alpha's head lolled, barely conscious. Kael tightened his grip around the man's torso. His fingers were numb.
He kept moving.
The trees ahead twisted in strange shapes as the shadows deepened. The night wind grew colder, swirling with a metallic smell. Each gust cut along Kael's skin like needles.
The wendigo was still alive.
Of course it's still alive.
Something like that doesn't die from a single explosion.
Not even close.
The ground trembled—just a slight vibration under his boots, but unmistakable.
It was coming.
Kael forced himself faster. The Alpha hunter dragged his feet, stumbling in half-conscious jerks.
"We're… not… going to outrun that thing," the man whispered, voice shaking. "Just… leave me. Buy yourself… a chance."
Kael clenched his jaw hard enough that a spike of pain shot through his skull.
"No. Don't say that again."
"Kael—"
"You don't get to decide that," Kael snapped, voice cracking under the strain. "Noone is getting left behind tonight."
The hunter fell silent, but Kael felt the man's shallow, apologetic breath against his shoulder.
A crunch sounded behind them.
Kael froze.
Not a branch snapping.
Not an animal.
A deliberate step.
Slow.
Almost casual.
Then another.
Kael turned, sliding the Alpha hunter carefully against a tree. His hands hovered over his sword, muscles coiling in instinctive readiness despite the screaming pain radiating from his chest.
The shadows parted.
The wendigo emerged crawling on all fours—back arched, spines regrowing in harsh, jagged patterns across its shoulders. Frost curled from its breath. Its eyes glowed like two pits of winter light.
Its jaw hung loose, half torn from the explosion. Regenerating. Flesh knitting together in unnatural pulses.
The sight alone would've broken a lesser hunter.
Kael held steady.
Barely.
Its voice came low, distorted through a partially reconstructed throat.
"You… hurt me."
Not poetic.
Not dramatic.
Just an emotion Kael hadn't heard from it before.
Annoyance.
Kael drew his sword. "Stay back."
The creature tilted its head.
Its lips peeled back into a warped smile.
"Still alive… still running… still useless."
It took a slow step forward, claws curling into the soil. Its two massive blue tails unfurled behind it like fluid blades, slicing the air with a soft humming sound.
"You had your chance," it murmured."
The wendigo blinked.
Then chuckled.
"That is why you break so easily."
Kael didn't answer.
He moved.
The wendigo moved faster.
It lunged sideways, not forward—climbing up a tree in one smooth whip of motion, claws carving through bark as it spiraled up the trunk.
Kael barely tracked it before it launched down, tails slashing in intersecting arcs.
He ducked, rolled, parried—
The impact of the tails against his blade sent a shockwave through his arms that nearly ripped the sword from his hands. His right wrist buckled, pain flashing white across his vision.
The wendigo circled him in a blur, laughing breathlessly.
"You're slower. Weaker. Even more fun now."
Kael forced his stance steadier.
The wendigo lunged again—Kael deflected the claws, but the tails whipped around and smashed him across the shoulder, sending him crashing into a tree. Bark splintered. His breath fled his lungs in a violent choke.
He staggered up.
His legs trembled.
The wendigo didn't pounce.
It waited.
Watching.
Enjoying.
"You're desperate," it said, head tilting in childlike curiosity. "But you aren't fighting to just die inevitably. Let's do both of us a favour."
Kael spat blood onto the ground.
The wendigo grinned.
Then it vanished.
Kael's instincts screamed—he raised his blade—
Too slow.
A claw raked across his ribs, cutting deep. Kael stumbled, slashing blindly behind him—
The wendigo was already elsewhere.
"You humans… the ones you protect… will watch you fall," it whispered, somewhere to his left. "You will scream. But I offer to save you from this suffering if you take my hand."
Kael felt something inside him snap.
He attacked, a burst of movement from sheer adrenaline, blade whipping toward the voice—
The wendigo met him head-on, claws locking against his sword. Its icy breath hit Kael's face.
"You can't win," it said simply.
Then it pushed.
Kael flew back again, tumbling across dead leaves, pain exploding across his spine.
He tried to rise—
A foot slammed onto his chest, pinning him hard into the earth.
The wendigo leaned down, face inches above his—its jaw stretching wide, skin splitting, long tongue unfurling with grotesque delight.
"Let me bite you," it murmured. "Just once. Then I'll share salvation."
Kael strained under its weight. His arms shook violently. His vision blurred with panic and rage and helplessness.
The wendigo's tongue dragged across his cheek—cold, slick, nauseating.
"After you turn… you'll understand everything."