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“Aric enlisted the aid of an alchemist, one rumored to dabble in dark magic. After months of research, the alchemist developed a very particular poison, one that would turn a human man into a beast more terrifying than the world has ever known,” he continued.
I sucked in a breath, but I didn’t say anything.
“Then, Aric dipped an arrowhead in that poison, and he went out hunting.”
I felt his body tremble just the slightest bit, and I pressed my cheek against his chest.
“I can barely remember my life before the day I was hit by the poisoned arrow. I know I had a family, a wife, and a son, but I don’t recall their names. I know I was out walking. I don’t know if I was hunting or farming or what I was doing, but I remember being alone and the moments before I was hit rather vividly.”
I waited, my heart pounding in my chest.
“It was a day like any other,” he continued, his voice laden with nostalgia. “The sun hung low on the horizon, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. It was a summer’s day, the warm temperature wrapping around me like a cloak. A twig cracked behind me, and I looked back over my shoulder, seeing nothing. I assumed it was a creature in the woods, maybe a rabbit or a fox, and I kept going. I shouldn’t have,” he murmured.
He paused for a moment, and I didn’t rush him, letting him gather his thoughts at his own pace.
“I felt it before I heard it,” he began, his eyes distant as he delved into the past. “The whisper of death, the eerie silence of the forest as if nature itself held its breath.”
I could almost sense the weight of the forest’s silence, the tension building in the air.
“I looked over my shoulder as the gentle creak of a bowstring pulled taut echoed in the forest, my heart pounding in my chest,” Kane continued. “In that brief, heart-stopping moment, I heard the swish of the arrow as it cut through the air.”
The tension in his voice was palpable, and I moved as close to him as I could, wrapping my arms around his throat as though I could comfort him.
“The arrow struck true,” Kane said, his voice lowering. “It pierced my flesh, and in that instant, I felt a searing pain, unlike anything I had ever known. But it wasn’t just pain; it was an agonizing transformation. I tore the arrowhead free from my body, but it didn’t stop what was coming.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could almost feel the agony, the horror of that moment before he began again.
“My body contorted, bones cracking and reshaping,” Kane described, his gaze locked on a distant memory. “My skin split as fur sprouted, and my senses sharpened. The pain was excruciating, but eventually it ended, and I became a creature of nightmare, something the likes of which the world has never seen before.”
“Does it still hurt?” I asked.
“Yes, but less so than that first time. After that day, it took me months to regain my human form. I had to claw my way back to humanity, piece by agonizing piece.”
I was quiet, my heart heavy with sorrow for his struggle.
“But with time,” he went on, “I learned to control it, to shift back and forth between man and beast at will. It became a part of me, a cursed gift that allowed me to move through the shadows, to hunt those who would harm the innocent.”
“Like you did with me,” I murmured, and he nodded.
“Yet,” Kane added, his tone growing somber, “on the night of the full moon, I lose that control. No matter how hard I try, I cannot stop the transformation.”
“What about Aric?” I wondered aloud, and he cleared his throat.
“While I struggled to regain control over my newfound abilities, Aric recovered the cursed arrowhead that had brought about my transformation. He returned it to the alchemist who concocted an elixir using the blood of the very beast he had created, my blood.”
“What did the elixir do?”
“The legend dictated that Aric had to kill the beast to gain immortality,” Kane explained, his voice tinged with a sense of irony. “But the alchemist found a way to bypass that requirement. His elixir slowed Aric’s aging to a crawl. He became virtually immortal, and over the centuries, he’s continued his relentless hunt for me.”
“If his aging has slowed to practically make him immortal, why does he continue to hunt you?”
“It’s not enough for him. The elixir he created with my blood only grants him extended life, slowing his aging. But it’s not true immortality. He needs more of my blood, every hundred years or so, to concoct a new elixir.”
“So, he keeps coming after you,” I whispered, piecing together the grim puzzle.
“Exactly. He tracks me down when the time comes, and we clash in a battle that’s been replayed over and over for centuries. I’ve managed to evade him most times, but he’s relentless. He’ll stop at nothing to achieve his goal.”
“The scar over his left eye?”
