Chapter 4 -The First Full Night of Hunting

 

Chapter 4

The First Full Night of Hunting

The world had changed. The forest was no longer a mass of indistinct trunks and branches. Each tree gave off its own scent: sweet resin, damp moss, leaves carrying the sharp smell of freshly cut sap. The wind carried the scent of animals hidden beneath the earth, and even the buzzing of an insect sounded like thunder inside my mind.

I raised my head. The sky, which had once seemed black and endless to me, was now a pulsating tapestry. I could see stars hidden from human eyes, and each one seemed to vibrate like a distant drum.

The stranger, my mentor, watched me with the same enigmatic smile.

“Go. Hunt.”

I obeyed, driven by a hunger that was both pain and ecstasy.

I moved through the forest with supernatural speed. My feet barely touched the ground. With every leap, the leaves stirred into whirlwinds, and my eyes could even catch a single drop of dew being crushed beneath my feet.

It was not long before I heard voices. Two men were camped beside a fire, laughing loudly and drinking cheap wine. They were soldiers, perhaps hunters; the stench of leather and gunpowder clung to their clothes.

I approached silently. I could hear each man's heart beating at a different rhythm, like instruments in a grotesque symphony.

The first attack came quickly. I lunged at one of them with the speed of lightning, knocking him to the ground. My teeth sank into his throat, and blood poured out, hot, salty, metallic. I drank as though I could drown the pain of the world. Each swallow was a wave of pleasure, filling my bones and strengthening my muscles.

The second soldier tried to draw his sword. I turned with a fluid movement, dodging his strike. I seized his arm and, with a sharp twist, broke the bone. His scream echoed through the forest, but it was quickly silenced when I opened his throat with the silver dagger.

Blood sprayed in an arc, staining the leaves. I let the hot liquid cover me, breathing deeply, savoring its metallic scent, until the man's body fell, emptied of life.

I stepped back, breathing heavily, licking my stained lips.

The mentor appeared, walking slowly between the trees.

“Remember,” he said, “every body must be dealt with. Leave no trace.”

I obeyed. I finished off the bodies and scattered the remains among the foliage. The smell was unbearably sweet, and yet intoxicating.

The night continued with frantic hunts. I felt invincible. I could hear footsteps from miles away, sense the blood pulsing through the veins of a hidden deer, and recognize fear before the victim even cried out.

I fought with sword and dagger, spinning through perfect movements, as though each weapon were an extension of my body. And with every death, I repeated my mentor's ritual: drink until satisfied, then conceal the secret.

But then came the dawn.

I had already noticed it: a strange warmth was beginning to grow along the horizon. The moon was fading, and the stars were losing their brightness. Instinct screamed inside me. Danger was approaching.

“The sun.” The mentor's voice was grave. “Either you turn to ashes, or you learn now.”

My heart—or whatever remained of it—began to race. A feverish anxiety spread through my muscles. The first ray of light broke through the treetops, turning the air golden. My skin began to burn as though it were paper about to catch fire.

“Focus!” the mentor shouted. “Dissolve!”

I screamed. I felt my bones tremble and my flesh melt away. My body seemed to implode into fragments of shadow. My fingers elongated, my hair dissolved into dark mist, and within a second, I was no longer Emma.

I was a wraith. A black shadow that raced almost invisibly across the forest floor.

The rays of sunlight passed through me without hurting me. I moved quickly, like smoke being drawn away by the wind. The sensation was indescribable: there was no weight, no flesh, only a profound cold and a latent hunger, as though emptiness itself had become my new skin.

The mentor, still in solid form, retreated into a dark cavern. As a shadow, I slipped over the rocks and into the depths of the cave.

As soon as night fell again, I returned to human form.

My flesh rebuilt itself, my bones returned to their proper places, and my golden, curly hair fell over my bloodstained shoulders.

I opened my eyes, gasping for breath.

The mentor leaned toward me, his lips almost touching my ear.

“Now you are complete. A shadow by day. A hunter by night. Justice and curse in a single body.”

I raised the dagger, still dripping with blood. The reflection of the blade trembled in the torchlight.

And I understood: there was no turning back.