"Are you sure about this, sir?"
Kael's voice was low, carrying a hint of concern as he looked at me from across the campfire.
"You don't have to come. You've already done more than enough for us, sir. You could just stay here in the camp, awaiting our return."
The offer was tempting: The plush cot in my tent, the soft wool of my bed, the chance to keep my boots clean, all of those and more were calling to me. But I dismissed the thought with a grim shake of my head.
"The responsibility rests on me, Kael."
I pulled the leather straps of my breastplate tight, the unfamiliar weight of its metal settling onto my shoulders.
"If this goes wrong, I will be the one accountable. That's why I need to be part of this—to make sure nothing goes wrong."
Kael merely sighed and nodded, leaving to check with the two trappers, Tomas and Roric on the possible locations of the creature.
In the space of two weeks, I had created a specialized hunting unit. It had cost a fortune—enough gold to buy start an inn in a moderately sized city—but my sanity, and my life, depended on this. I'd spent days poring over whatever maps I could find, weeks haggling for the best equipment: nets woven with wire reinforcement, tracking charms that hummed when the target is near, and specialized arrows tipped with enough poison to fell a juvenile cyclops.
I had hired five extra hunters from the south, famous for their silent steps and keen eyes. Most importantly, I'd secured the allegiance of a Priest from the Theocracy, a solemn man named Urian. Everything was calculated, every contingency planned for. At this point, we were not equipped for a simple hunt; we were equipped for annihilation.
The forest swallowed us whole. The light of the sun struggled to even reach us, who were under the dense canopy of the trees. The air was thick, damp, and smelled overwhelmingly of rotting wood and wet earth.
Cautiously, we walked. Allowing nothing to stray from our sight; every tree, bush, rustle, rock, and animal would be accounted for.
We had been walking for an hour or so when the whispering started.
"It feels like we're walking into the jaws of a beast."
One of the recruits murmured, clutching his crossbow tighter.
Another replied, his voice barely audible.
"Look at the trees…they're twisted, like someone's trying to hide something in them."
Even I felt it. The charms Father Urian had strung along our path were supposed to create a sense of peace, but our worries only continued to grow as the eerie silence lingered. There was no birdsong, no growls, no snap of twigs from small animals: just the wet, sucking sound of our own boots on the ground.
Fear was a slow poison that worked its way from the edges of the group inward. We were experienced hunters, but this forest felt like a mysterious and terrifying being that was living, and that feeling of being watched, of having every move anticipated, was far more unnerving than any growl or snarl could ever have been.
We are too exposed.
I thought, a shiver running down my spine.
Then, after what felt like an eternity of facing the creeping dread, there was a movement—a brief silhouette—on the ridge line just ahead.
The beast had been found.
"There! It's running!"
Someone started shouting, shattering the unnatural silence.
Before I could even give the order to approach, Kael and three others—the most eager, and perhaps the most reckless—bolted forward, their fear replaced by the adrenaline of the chase.
"Be careful!"
I roared, but my voice was lost to the sprinting of boots.
We chased, stumbling over tree roots and badly placed rocks, eyes locked only on the fleeing figure.
And that was when it struck back.
A rope snapped at ankle height. The man at the front of the chase disappeared with a strangled cry, followed immediately by the sickening crack of wood as a heavy log swung in from the side, catching the second man mid-stride. A third tripped and had his leg caught in a trap and was hoisted instantly into the air, struggling uselessly as a net filled with rocks fell beside him.
It was an ambush.
Disoriented, we pressed on, the need to hunt the creature and finish it all here and now was clear. We didn't dare slow down to check the traps or save the men.
Were they dead?
We didn't know. We couldn't afford to know. Every moment spent lingering in this hostile environment was a moment closer to complete disaster. We had a small window of opportunity to get the monster before it vanished, and the lives we've lost were already too much to just give up now.
Just keep moving.
But the traps kept coming. A camouflaged pit swallowed four men, their screams dwindled as we moved past them. A tripwire triggered a cloud of blinding dust, scattering our formation. The party was splintered and running blind, thuds and cries ending abruptly sounded everywhere around me.
We were being picked apart.
"Retreat! Fall back!"
At this point, I realized my error and ordered a full retreat. I didn't account for everything, I never accounted for the monster to learn or act like a human. I had thought it was merely a beast that acted on instinct.
I was wrong.
We weren't chasing the beast; it was laying down bait for us to grab. The realization struck me now, but it was too late—we were stranded.
When the last snare caught an unlucky man by the neck, dragging him silently into the bushes, the few of us who remained came to a stuttering halt. We were breathing hard, sweat dripping like faucets and mud caking our faces.
Our group had been culled down to only a few remaining. Only six of us remained: Father Urian, his hands shaking as he gripped his holy artefact; the trappers Tomas and Roric, their faces pale beneath the grime; two other laborers; and myself, the one who had paid for this slaughter.
This time, only as we were weak and powerless, did the monster truly show itself.
Its figure jumped down from the trees into the bushes and coming out from there; the massive bulk of it slowly showed in its entirety. It was a terrifying, hulking mass of green, its skin like rough, dark green bark, and its posture was frighteningly human, standing with two feet, towering over us. The sheer scale of it was staggering. It carried in its hand an axe—not a crude weapon like Kael reported before, but a terrifyingly effective one, wide and heavy, its razor edge glinting, with blood dripping.
Human blood.
My stomach wrenched.
The men…
Father Urian, chanting a prayer, was the first to act, throwing his vial of holy water at the monster. It splashed uselessly against the monster's green skin. The monster paid no heed. It simply walked toward us, slowly.
I watched, frozen in a state of terror, as it moved with an unnatural grace. A strike from the knob of the axe shattered Tomas's arm and sent him crumpling. Roric tried to run and was caught by the monster's hand and thrown at Urian, knocking both down. The two other laborers were dispatched with terrifying swiftness, their shrieks replaced by utter silence.
I was the last man standing. I raised my own dagger against the great green bulk.
The monster paused, its dark eyes meeting mine. It felt as if it held no malice, only a sense of exhaustion. I tried to scream at it, to beg for mercy, or even just anything at that point, but the sound was caught in my throat.
It lifted its massive hand. I felt a stinging sensation against my cheek, and the world began to tilt. The creature stood above me, the blood-stained axe glints with a sort of finality.
The final thought I had as my consciousness faded was another crushing realization: This entire time, all of us were only being played with by the monster, and we were its prey.