Page 20 of Mortis

The last remnants of her soul vanished down our throat, and He swallowed. He rose to our hooves, tilting our head towards the ceiling, and opened our mouth. Black smoke poured from between our lips and disappeared into the darkness above.

The offering was gone, sent directly into Mammon’s coffers.

I could only hope my master received it favourably. Perhaps favourably enough to spare me from eternal pain when he eventually came to collect me.

Though I suspected that was wishful thinking.

Without further preamble, He lowered our head and sank our teeth into the mortal.

That was how we found ourselves chewing unsatisfying flesh that contained more gristle than meat. The taste was wrong. Chemical and artificial. No matter how much we consumed, it lacked the richness of fresh blood and living flesh.

The disappointment rolling through Him mirrored my own.

Dawn remained several hours away, yet already, I knew I had failed. My essence would become His to consume. My body would become His to command. Everything that made me me would be stripped away until nothing remained but the perfect hunter.

A monster.

A mindless beast destined to stalk Barrowfell Woods until the end of time.

Then the door flew open.

3

KAEL

A small figure appeared in the doorway. Its hand reached towards the wall, then the lights flickered to life with a harsh electrical buzz.

For a moment, the entire room stood exposed. The metal table, the half-devoured corpse, the child in the doorway.

No, not a child.

A man.

A small one, but a human man nonetheless.

Blue eyes met my red ones. They drank me in for a heartbeat before dropping to the mutilated remains on the floor. His chest hitched.

“Oh, fuck.”

Neither of us moved, the room suspended in time.

Then the Beast reacted.

He launched from the floor, and the corpse fell forgotten behind us. The mortal let out a startled squeak and stumbled backwards. Before he could fall, our claws caught the front of his shirt. The Beast slammed him against the wall beside the door. One hand pinned him in place, the other wrapped around his throat. Not tightly enough to crush, but enough to remind him that it could.

I watched through crimson-tinted eyes as the mortal’s pulse hammered beneath the skin of his neck. His breathing came fast and shallow, and his scent flooded my senses. Fear and adrenaline. Warm skin. Living flesh. Without my permission, He buried our nose against the side of the mortal’s throat and inhaled deeply.

The smell struck me immediately.

Honey.

Sweet and golden.

Beneath it lingered the familiar chemical sharpness that clung to the corpse on the floor. That hung in the air of this very room.

Corpse Boy.

Was this him?