Time passed slowly as the wagon ventured deeper into the city, its wheels creaking over the nameless roads. The ruins, though ancient, looked as if they had been frozen in time. But something about them was wrong.
The buildings stood tall, unyielding, and pristine, yet their doors and windows were misaligned, placed where they shouldn't be. Archways twisted unnaturally, corridors stretched in impossible ways. Even the trees, once proud and mighty, had contorted into grotesque shapes. The entire city had been warped by some unseen force.
One could almost imagine people still walking its streets, if not for twisting and the oppressive silence that hung in the air, broken only by the occasional howl.
Kazimir tightened his grip on his bow.
He had known silence before, the silence of the hunt, the silence before a kill, but this was different. This was an unnatural silence, a silence that pressed down on them, suffocating and absolute. Only the occasional howl, distant and distorted, reminded them that they were not alone.
A tap on his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts. He turned to see Jake, a finger pressed against his lips in a silent command for quiet, the other hand pointing ahead.
Tracks.
The freshly fallen snow bore the imprint of something massive. The prints resembled human hands and feet, only there were too many fingers, too many toes, each malformed and stretched unnaturally. It was as if a hundred people had crawled on all fours, but the sheer size of the prints suggested something far worse.
With silent hand signals, they left the wagon and followed the trail deeper into the ruins. Twisting alleys gave way to a sloping hill, the very heart of the city.
At its peak, where the Umbrax Castle had once stood, was now only empty space.
From the summit, Kazimir looked back. The city stretched in every direction, a twisted labyrinth of stone and shadow, frozen in its contorted stillness. And there, in the fading light of the setting sun, it stood.
A monstrosity.
Kazimir's breath caught in his throat. His grip on his bow tightened.
The creature loomed, grotesque and inhuman, a seething mass of fused flesh and writhing limbs. Its enormous body pulsed with movement, countless human arms and legs propelling it forward, a shifting tide of grotesque appendages. Faces covered its form, their expressions frozen in silent agony. Some mouths wept, others laughed in manic hysteria, while some simply stared, void of emotion. Atop the nightmarish fusion of bodies sat a massive, goat-like head, crowned with twisted black horns that reached toward the heavens.
This was what they had come to hunt. A demon.
For the first time in a decade, Kazimir felt true fear. It curled in his gut, cold and unrelenting. But then he saw the hollow-eyed faces of the starving children in his mind, their gaunt expressions as they watched their fathers leave. There was no room for fear. Only necessity.
Judas signalled the plan. Kazimir would wound the beast with an arrow, drawing it into an ambush. As it charged, the others, hidden behind trees would strike with their pitchforks, hoping to bring the monster down.
It wasn't a perfect plan.
But it was all they had.
Kazimir took his position, steadying his breath. He nocked an arrow, the taut string humming with tension. Then, with a whispered exhale, he released.
The arrow sang through the air, striking true. Then another. Both found their mark, sinking deep into two of the creature's countless eyes.
The beast shrieked.
It turned.
It saw him.
And it charged.
Kazimir bolted toward the trees, but the creature was faster than he had anticipated. Its multitude of limbs propelled it forward with terrifying speed. Before he could react, its gaping maw clamped down on his shoulder.
Pain.
A searing, all-consuming agony ripped through him as flesh and bone gave way. His vision blurred.
Then the ambush sprang.
From the shadows, the others attacked, stabbing their pitchforks deep into the beast's writhing mass. Again and again, they struck, piercing its eyes, its mouths, its twisted, churning flesh. The creature howled, a sound that seemed to shake the very air around them. It convulsed violently, dark blood spilling onto the snow.
And then, at last, it fell.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Kazimir barely registered the victory. His world had narrowed to the unbearable, burning pain in his shoulder, the sensation of warm blood pooling beneath him. He had never bled this much before. He wouldn't last long.
The others stood over him, their expressions unreadable. Then, after a long pause, Judas turned away. Without a word, he walked off. Later, he returned with the wagon.
They loaded the beast's carcass onto it.
Kazimir waited for them to help him.
They didn't.
Judas met his gaze for the briefest of moments before climbing onto the wagon. The others followed. With a flick of the reins, the horses stirred, pulling the wagon forward.
Kazimir was left behind.
He watched in stunned silence as the wagon disappeared into the distance. The sky darkened. The cold crept in. His body weakened with every passing second.
Then he dragged himself to the base of a nearby Umbrax tree. The glowing white leaves shimmered softly above him, casting an ethereal light over his broken form.
It was beautiful.
Kazimir let out a shuddering breath, leaned against the rough bark, and tilted his head toward the luminous canopy above.
With a final, weary sigh, he closed his eyes.
And waited for death.