Howl!
The beast's howl split the air behind him as he crashed through the underbrush, the useless flute still clutched in one hand. Branches whipped at his face and roots tried to trip him, but adrenaline kept him moving.
'Think, you idiot! There has to be a way to use this thing!'
Behind him, the sound of splintering wood marked the shadow wolf's pursuit. It was gaining—of course it was gaining!
He was a recently-executed human with questionable cardio, and it was a supernaturally enhanced predator in its home environment!
'Okay, strategy time. What do I know about corrupted creatures?'
'Stage 2 Awakened means it's fast and strong but not too intelligent. Predictable attack patterns. Weakness to light-based attacks.'
'None of which helps me with a musical instrument.'
He vaulted over a fallen log, his mind racing faster than his feet.
'But wait. This isn't just any flute. It's my Soul Weapon. The mysterious man must have chosen it for a reason, which means it should have some kind of combat application.'
'Maybe… maybe I can use sound as a weapon? Sonic attacks? Disorientation?'
The wolf was close enough now that he could hear its breathing—a wet, rasping sound that definitely didn't belong in any natural creature's respiratory system.
Filianus spun around a massive tree trunk, hoping to buy himself a few seconds.
'Come on, brain. Work with me here. The mysterious bastard said something about speaking to hidden desires. What if the flute amplifies that somehow?'
Puchi!
A claw raked across his shoulder, tearing through his shirt and drawing blood.
'No more time for theories!'
He stumbled into a small clearing, his legs finally giving out from the sustained sprint. The shadow wolf emerged from the treeline behind him, moving with predatory confidence now that its prey was cornered.
'This is it. Do or die time.'
Filianus struggled to his feet, flute raised like the world's most pathetic weapon.
The beast crouched for its final pounce, red eyes fixed on his throat.
'What do you want?' he thought desperately. 'What does a corrupted creature desire most?'
The answer came to him in a flash of insight.
'Peace. They want the corruption to stop eating them from the inside!'
As the shadow wolf launched itself through the air, claws extended and jaws gaping wide, Filianus cleared his throat and spoke a single word with all the authority he could muster:
"Stop!"
The word came out wrong.
Not wrong exactly, but… more. It carried weight that had nothing to do with volume. It resonated in frequencies that bypassed the ears entirely and spoke directly to something deeper.
The Voice of Sin.
The shadow wolf froze mid-leap, its body suddenly rigid as if it had hit an invisible wall. It hung suspended in the air for a moment before crashing to the ground in an undignified heap.
'Holy shit. It worked!'
The creature's red eyes were wide with confusion and something that might have been fear. Its muscles strained against some invisible force, but it couldn't move so much as a paw.
'Now what? I can't keep it frozen forever.'
But Filianus's mind was already working, pieces clicking together with the ruthless efficiency of a man who'd spent too many hours analyzing fantasy combat scenarios.
'The corruption is eating it from the inside. Making it hungry and aggressive. But underneath, it's still partially a wolf. And wolves are pack animals. Social creatures.'
'What if… what if I can speak to the part that remembers being whole?'
He kept the flute raised, though he wasn't entirely sure it was necessary anymore.
"You're tired," he said, letting his voice carry that same strange resonance. "Tired of the hunger that never ends. Tired of the rage that burns but never warms."
The shadow wolf's struggles weakened.
"You remember what it felt like before. When the world made sense. When you had your pack, a place, a purpose that wasn't just endless consumption."
'Is this working? I think this is working.'
"The corruption isn't you. It's a parasite wearing your skin. But I can see what you were before it took hold."
Tears—actual tears—began streaming from the creature's red eyes.
'Jackpot!'
"You want to rest," Filianus continued, his voice growing softer but no less compelling. "You want the pain to stop. You want to remember what peace felt like."
The shadow wolf made a sound that was half-whimper, half-howl.
'Time for the finishing move.'
"Let go," he whispered. "Let the corruption burn itself out. Choose peace over hunger. Choose rest over rage."
"Choose to die clean rather than live corrupted."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the creature's form began to shimmer.
The patches of absolute darkness on its fur started to peel away like old paint, revealing ordinary gray wolf-hide underneath. The red glow faded from its eyes, replaced by natural amber.
It was still massive—corruption had enhanced its size and strength—but it looked… normal. Peaceful.
The wolf looked at Filianus with something approaching gratitude, then simply lay down and closed its eyes.
Its breathing slowed.
And stopped.
'It chose death over corruption. Holy shit, I actually did it! I actually just talked it into death?!'
Filianus lowered the flute, his hands shaking from adrenaline crash. This ability was some next level shit!
Then the backlash hit.
And it was also next level.
Fire raced through his throat, like he'd been gargling with molten metal. His voice felt raw and torn, and when he tried to swallow, it was agony.
'The power has a cost. Of course it does.'
He touched his throat gingerly, wincing at the pain. Although it hurt, it didn't hurt as much as being burned alive, so Filianus could manage.
Still…
'Note to self: Voice of Sin is not for casual use.'
But before he could fully process what had just happened, new sounds reached his ears.
Howling.
Multiple voices, echoing through the forest from different directions.
'Oh, fuck me sideways!'
'More dead wolves. And they sound pissed.'
Filianus stared around cautiously, his mind already racing ahead to new survival scenarios.
'How many? Three distinct howls, maybe four. All coming from different directions, which means they're trying to surround me.'
'Can I use the Voice again? Not immediately. My throat feels like I gargled with broken glass and liquid fire.'
'Regular combat? With a flute against multiple stage 2 corrupted? That's not a fight, that's an elaborate suicide.'
Which leaves…
Running. Again.
'My third life is turning into a very extended chase scene!'
The howls were getting closer, and now he could hear the crashing of underbrush as multiple large shapes moved through the forest with predatory purpose.
'They're coordinating. Trying to cut off my escape routes.'
'Time to go. Now.'
Filianus picked a direction that seemed momentarily clear of approaching howls and took off through the trees, his legs already protesting the renewed abuse.
Behind him, the hunt began in earnest.
'Four corrupted shadow wolves. A throat that feels like it's been barbecued. A Soul Weapon that's apparently a musical instrument.'
'My mysterious benefactor better have one hell of an explanation for this.'
The first wolf broke through the treeline to his left, red eyes gleaming with hunger and something that might have been grief for its fallen packmate.
'Or I'm going to have a very short second life.'
Filianus put his head down and ran faster, the sounds of pursuit growing ever closer behind him.
The hunt was on.