UL- The Beast Hunter (tf)

The trail was easy, far easier than he would have believed. The snow that had seemed against them so often before now felt like a blessing, making their quarries hoofprints clear and plain as day, a double track leading on through the woods. Their breaths turned to steam from cold and excitement, hearts beat fiercely and his legs pounded onwards, burning thanks to the weight of his gun and bag on his back.

The weight had become his companion recently. Up till a few weeks ago he’d barely ever used the sturdy old shotgun, only went hunting occasionally like to show his cousin on the day the snow started. But now, now he kept it with him as much as possible, and the smaller handgun jammed into his jacket for good measure. Had to be careful after all, the monsters could be anywhere- men, women, children, bird or dog or who knew what else, their magic had few limits.

“Alright there?” Nick asked. Not the right Nick though, not his cousin, the lanky fool who’d managed to almost kill a monster. That Nick had been killed by the monster he spared.

No, this Nick was a professional, a short haired man with scars all over him and a missing right hand, torn off by some horrid monster not that long ago, but already replaced with an efficient hook. Dark sunglasses protected his eyes from the snow’s glare, and his black clothes were fitted with all sorts of knives and a long powerful handgun.

“I’ll be fine once we get this beast.” He hissed, feeling the stitch start to come into his side.

“If you say so. I’m looking forward to catching this.” The older hunter smiled as he hurried, snow cracking under his heavy boots, “Never had the chance to take down a Sonney before, they’re very rare mystics. People overlook them for dragons and the like.”

He scowled. Nick could be irritatingly professional, a know-it- all on the subject of monsters, just like old red bearded Arthur. That man had been right even till death.

He couldn’t take the hint either, “Their stories go that they’re the ultimate prey, the creature that runs for its life from birth till death, because of how magical they are. Like the unicorns, this things body could sell for thousands if I push my buyers a bit.”

“Just in it for the money? What about your principles? The monsters took your hand.” He panted.

“It was different monsters that got my hand.” Nick smiled as he glanced at the elegant hook poking from his sleeve, “But aye, the money’s just a bonus, the Arkan Sonney is supposed to confer a blessing to a great hunter, and there’s no way I’m gonna pass up that opportunity after doing this business for so long.”

“Huh, well you’re welcome to it, I don’t put up with witchcraft.”

“Yeah, yeah I know, you just kill mystics for fun.”

“Because they’re monsters.” He grunted, eying the tracks again, the twins rows of hoof prints, marking the forest floor. Somehow they seemed to be getting deeper and farther apart, like their prey was tiring, starting to lose what grace and nimbleness it had had and dragging its feet. Nick must have noticed too because his pace increased again, faster and faster with the hook shining coldly in the moonlight. He sped up too, and pulled the shotgun from his back, eyes combing the thick fir trees for any hint of the beast.

No, there was a clearing up ahead, light streaming between the needles. His heart beat faster as he hurried forwards, reading the firearm, breathing in, and-

“Steady there.” Nick warned just short of the ice. And there was a lot of ice, an entire lake in fact, frozen solid in the winter to form an immense glassy mirror with the chill blue sky painted on it. Cracks and a few pools were visible across it too, hinting that the ice was not as thick as it looked, but still…

“The tracks go right onto it?” He pointed out, gaping at the hoofprints that continued out of the snowy shoreline, straight to the clear white ice. “Where is it? It’s not there, how could it make it across?!”

“True, the ice would break.” Nick pondered, scratching his chin with the curve of his hook. “Unless it stayed on the thicker parts, but it must have come off at some point… tell you what, you go round on the left, and I’ll get the right, see where we find the hoofprints and we can start tracking it again. Just call me if you see anything.”

“Deal.” He agreed and slung his gun over his shoulder while the taller man started off in the other direction. He wasn’t all that comfortable splitting up, it was always better to be in a group while hunting, but this was just tracking. The space was a little nice too as it allowed him to breath out and settle for a careful walk over the uneven rocks and stones that the snow hid. Not that he could have jogged for much longer anyway, the ache in his legs and stitch in the side were starting to make themselves known, and his breath emerged as spouts of steam in the chilly air.

His heart calmed as he walked though, and despite his observance being for the prey, whether hide or track, he couldn’t deny that the place was beautiful. The lake was like a perfect heavenly mirror, fringed by the white tinted fir trees, the sky a wonderful azure blue above. The cold air invigorated him as he breathed it deeply, and the pure white snow brought back memories of so many Christmases and winters playing and laughing when he was but a child and his cousin was no more than an infant following him around.

Keith breathed out, and blinked at the marks in the snow in front of him.

Hoofprints.

Tiny ones though, scarcely larger than his thumb. For a couple of moments he hesitated, looking between them and the ice as his mind raced. The prints were almost identical to ones earlier, that was certain, but at the same time if the creature had only been this big, then it could have crossed the ice without any trouble.

His numb fingers had trouble with the phone, but soon enough he got the number right and held the device to his ear until the ringing tone was replaced by Nick’s crackly voice.

“Hello, you find something?”

“I think so. This’ll sound weird, but can Arkan Sonney’s shrink?”

“Eh?”

“I found hoofprints here, coming off the ice but they’re tiny, it’s like it suddenly turned to… I dunno, cat size?”

The line was quiet for a moment, then, “Well, I thought that part of the myth was pure bollocks to be honest, but it did mention some sizechanging.”

“Huh?” He scoffed, “You thought that was fiction, but all the stuff about blessings and magic and stuff was true!?”

“… um… yeah… Look, they’re rare alright?!” Nick snapped, “I’ll head back round and see this for myself, make sure we’re not chasing a stray rabbit.”

“I’ll take a look too, but pretty sure it’s our freak.” He answered, “Seeya shortly.”

“Sure.” Nick answered as the line went quiet, and he pocketed the phone before turning to face the woods again. The tracks were still fairly clear, definitely not a rabbit, and he found himself walking along them calmly, the snow crackling under his boots. It seemed slower now too, the tracks weren’t the hurried straight line of a beast trying to escape, no, they zigzagged curiously and carelessly, from one tree to a rock to another trunk, around and then past a small pile of snow, as though the now-small creature had been sniffing around. Thinking it had thrown them off. The thought brought a smile to his face and he slid the hefty shotgun back off his shoulders keenly. His heart started to beat faster, adrenaline made everything feel sharper, as a small snuffling sound came from the snowy bushes ahead.

BANG

The weapon recoiled hard against his shoulder as it fired, and the bush squealed as a shape flew out.

The Arkan Sonney looked something like a piglet, covered in thick brown fur and with diminutive tusks poking from its snout. Large triangular ears were flat on its back, its tail was a ropey bristly appendage, but the eyes were the worst. They were wide and swivelling around with a horrible curiosity, a mockery of humanity that was only offset by the bleeding round hole the slug had punched through its flank.

“Gotcha you little freak!” He yelled triumphantly, “That’s for Nick!”

“Aw, I’m touched!” The hunter’s breathless voice came from behind him, “You got him after all?”

“Not you, but yeah, it’s down and it’s definitely not a rabbit.”  He grinned back at the man’s surprised expression, mouth open and brows high.

“You’re right there, it’s definitely a Sonney, you might want to get back a bit!” Nick yelled and tugged his handgun out of his belt.

“Huh?” Was just about all he could manage before something enormous slammed into his back and he was sent flying, the gun tumbling from his grip. Snow met him face first, engulfing him in a world of freezing white powder, so thick he wondered if he might drown as monstrous grunts and deafening gunshots sounded. He pushed up with his arms and finally surfaced out of the snow, gasped for breath and spun around to see the fight.

The Arkan Sonney was larger than a bull now. Any cuteness or feebleness its small form might have had had suddenly vanished from the hideous boar, all dark bristly, almost spiky fur with hefty hooves like plates and a maw full of scythe-like tusks was opened as it released a furious roar even louder than the gunshots. Pigeons and other birds cooed and evacuated the trees at the sheer sounds, and he clenched his jaw reflexively against the noise. He even saw Nick sway as he dived out of the way, gun ready in hand and a strange silvery blade attached to his hook.

Yes, the beast missed and a gunshot left a dark bloody hole through its hide and brought a well-deserved squeal of agony from the monster. It skidded to a stop then spun around, long tail lashing out like a whip so hard  he could imagine the appendage tearing through a man. As it was he’d almost been gored if not for the thick rucksack, but still, where was his gun?

There, not too far off he spotted it as the pig gave another squeal of pain and he glimpsed Nick baiting the beast back after him as he darted around trees. Apparently, as much as it was faster and stronger and tougher now, it wasn’t quite as manoeuvrable and snow and fir needles tumbled onto it from the disturbed branches as it pursued the man.

The wooden stock met his hand and he tugged the shotgun close to his shoulder and scrambled upright, gasping at the pain of his aching back. No, there’d be time to worry about that later, now was the time for payback.

“HEY, NICK, GET IT OVER HERE I’VE GOT A PRESENT FOR THAT PIG!” He yelled at the top of his voice as he worked the pump and heard the next shot click into place.

“If you think you can!” The other hunter shouted back, nimbly diving forward to slash at the monstrosity with his stumps blade. The Sonney roared furiously and spun around almost hitting Nick again, before charging forward, beady angry eyes fixed on him.

BANG

The recoil caught him off balance and his ruined shoulder protested by sending him toppling backwards into the snow. His backpack dug deep into his back and hurt shoulder and the snow all around felt like it was burning.

But it was quiet.

Keith gritted his teeth forced himself to look up, up at the red hole punched straight through the monsters skull where blood and brains leaked. Dead then, the thought pushed out the pain and he found himself coughing and laughing as he flicked the safety back on.

“Dead? Aw, good shot man, would’ve got it without any trouble if you hadn’t turned your back on it.” Nick smiled grimly as he walked up, hand and hook free once more, “You alright?”

“Hergh, sore, but I did it eh? I got the freak.” He laughed, almost choking as he did so and his throat contracted, sending him into a fit of coughs. Now that the adrenaline of the encounter was fading he could feel his pains more keenly, a building ache over it all from being thrown back by the boar. His shoulders were the worst, and his face felt like it was burning from the cold of the snow.

“I’ll have to split the cash with you then, this’ll be a good haul once we manage to get it… anywhere I guess.” The hunter chuckled and booted at the carcass’s thick ugly snout, “C’mon you big pig, you can’t shrink down to a more manageable corpse can you? Still, more to go around.”

Yeah, more to go around. He growled as his stomach burned and a tempting smell appeared in the air, like a barbeque almost but without the heat. He felt saliva leak in his jaw as something changed and his teeth began to stretch longer and sharper. The aches were getting worse, his toes stung with the cold and his fingers felt numb and inflexible, though that paled as a surge of pain ran through his back and his spine cracked.

“Keith? Hey… oh no, no… dangit! Keith can you hear me?!” Nicks voice sounded fuzzy and he couldn’t respond, all he could do was scream hoarsely as his body was moulded into a new shape. His legs grew longer and arms stretched to match them with a cracking of bones and a lengthening of his hands and feet. They got thinner too, and his digits turned round and small, curling over on small claws in place of nails. At his shoulders and waist they swung almost ninety degrees, the bones breaking and resetting themselves with sheet brutality and he only just managed to squirm out of the rucksacks straps before his arms were fixed in front of him.

His skull did the same, the neck adjusting to be behind it rather than below, while the entire bone structure ran and set like clay. His nose flattened and joined his lengthening jaw, his eyes set further back as his scalp smoothed back and his ears rose up to the top of his head. His teeth lengthened as his tongue did, and his nose sharpened, a scent becoming so much more tempting, of blood, and guts and gore and flesh…

No, he gritted his new teeth as his paws scraped the ground. No, not this, not this! Nick was saying something, backing off with his gun in hand, but still his body wasn’t listening. His back grew longer and stretched out, a new growth pushed against the seat of his trousers. Longer and thicker it grew, curving around inside his trousers as pins and needles announced a new change in the form of thick needle like hairs poking out of his skin in thick waves. They itched and scratched as they came, black fur that covered him from nose to tail as a thick coat, and he felt his eyes change to become yellow lupine orbs before the pain finally began to fade.

“Keith? You in there man?” Something was saying, it was hard to make it out, he was so hungry. His stomach felt like it would tear itself apart unless he ate, and the food was close, so very close. He opened his jaws, breathing in with a hiss and clenched his muscles, ready to spring…

*  *  *  *  *

Pain flared up in his skull, drawing out a long low whine of pain and sadness. The dream had been so vivid, the day etched into his mind in excruciating detail even after all this time. How long had it been now? Three winters like this now, three years of the snows falling and giving way to the green and heat of summer, only for the leaves to turn brown and fall again, over and over and over.

He growled in irritation before setting himself to crawling out of his den, the warm familiar, albeit awfully low ceilinged cave.  It was a relief to get out into the dim evening light, the woods with so many scents and so much space that he could stretch and wave his tail, taking in the world of high trees and rolling ditches and glens that made up this area. It was pleasantly warm, mainly thanks to his dark grey fur as autumn faded. It wouldn’t be too long until the next winter came, and a new year… what would it be? The answer eluded him for several minutes as he growled, before finally coming up with twenty nineteen. He was thirty four then. For a moment he wondered what that was in dog years, before giving up. It didn’t matter, and he was better off dealing with the immediate.

So saying he started to lope forwards, staying low and silent amid the brown bushes and rubble that hid his scented familiar route to the lake. His stomach needed a drink, and then meat, he needed to hunt. Find a deer, or rabbits or squirrels even, run them down and tear them up and snap their bones.

That was safer, he had found, behaving like a beast. Dwelling on his lost humanity only made things worse, he had learned that lesson over and over before, back at the start. Days, weeks of horror, trying to starve himself, running in the snow and trying to force the curse to end had only brought out a deeper more savage hunger in him. Better to be the wolf, live on the meat and blood without the disgust and hatred that his remaining humanity harboured for this life.

Reaching the lake, his reflection confirmed his thoughts. As the days before, a dark coloured wolf stared out of the water at him, yellow eyed and monstrously large, with paws like clawed plates and a body like a great bears, but leaner, faster and stronger. His tail was a thick brush of fur, and his fangs were like small knives crammed into a long muzzle, made for ripping and tearing through flesh.

Four years ago he would have dismissed the notion of a wolf this big as the stories of drunken idiots. Three years ago he would have asked for help to take down such a loathsome abomination, a freak of nature. Two years ago he would have run away, tried to escape the fearsome visage. As of now… well, he was meant to be drinking, not thinking, and bent down to lap up the icy cool water with a wide tongue.

Soon enough he was sated and set off loping through the woods alone, his keen nose sniffing as he went in search of any prey. His ears stayed perked, eyes ready and peering through the fir trees as the light started to fade and he loped along. It was a different route today, off into the wind away from the lake so that his scent didn’t carry and scare the creatures as had happened before. Not that they could be blamed, he was a monster large enough to scare bears, but it was always a pain if he found nothing decent in a day or two. He often ended up wandering out of the woods when that happened, hungry and feral until he killed a cow or something, though he preferred pigs. Their meat wasn’t as sweet as the Sonney’s had been, but the resemblance was enough to make it feel like he was taking revenge.

He wouldn’t have to do that tonight though; he could already smell a carcass. His dinner, the wolf decided and paused for just a moment to gather his breath, and then released a single piercing howl that filled up the night. It wasn’t really talking to anyone, but it was his warning, his instruction for other wolves and bears and predators to stay out of his woods. They hadn’t gotten it at first, some wolves had even been drawn to try and join his pack, but bites and claws had beaten to stupid beasts off until they knew better than to try it again, and knew to stay far away and leave him be.

The only creatures that didn’t beware were other monsters, airborne shadows he saw now and then, but overall those were infrequent and stayed closer to towns than the wilderness, plus they were day creatures that rarely overlapped with his nocturnal hunts. He almost would have liked to cross paths with one of those, the dark winged creatures brought back bad memories, and it would have been a pleasure to scare one off, or worse.

The scent got stronger and he sighted his meal through the trees, a fallen stag, his great antlers so heavy that his neck was twisted, bloody wounds pierced through his chest, and long hooved legs tangled under him. Not quite dead yet either, his eyes caught sight of the approaching Fenrir and drew out a frantic effort to get his legs under him and stand up, but the only effect was more blood flooding from the puncture in his chest. The wolf grinned and licked his chops before lunging forward and fixing his jaws around the stags throat. The stag tried to scream for a moment, a weird hoarse noise that became gurgling and hissing as his windpipe was ripped free. Warm blood scattered everywhere, drops falling on his snout as revelled in it and bit deeper and deeper, pulling chunks of flesh off in a frenzy. Dignity and forethought vanished in the face of food, in the face of ripping deeper and deeper into the stags ribcage in search of lungs and hearts and all sorts of yummy organs.

“Enjoying it?” A hoarse measured voice asked, and he finally wrenched his attention away from the meat to look at him. Nick’s age was starting to show, his short hair was starting to turn grey and fade from the crown of his skull. Lines weathered his features and old scars, though he still had the same old sunglasses covering his eyes despite the darkness. Dark beaten clothes covered the rest of him, though the part that drew attention was the glove over his right hand.

He noticed the gaze of course and lifted it up, squeezing the air with a smile, “Yeah, I finally got a better replacement as payment for a job. Can’t actually feel through it, but it’s easier to pick stuff up with than the hook was.”

The Fenrir growled quietly and padded closer curiously. The man rarely visited, he’d seen him all of two times over the past years, and normally he went to near the lake, just where they killed the boar.

“You can keep eating, it’s a present for helping me. I’d have been cursed to be that if it wasn’t for you after all.” Nick suggested and the wolf snarled at the memory. This had been the hunters blessing, becoming this monstrous lupine hunter, owed to whoever killed the Sonney. “Maybe not then. You’re looking well, even bigger than the last time I’d say, I guess you’ve been managing to eat properly all on your own.”

A blink and a curt nod answered that, though a part of him wondered if the hunter was beginning to shrink and stoop. His chest was certainly lower than it had been the last time.

“You’ve been eating livestock too, there’s been complaints. Folk know there’s a Fenrir in these woods attacking pigs and cows, that’s why I’m here.” He explained and the wolf tensed, baring his fangs, “Hey, not for violence, just the same offers as the last time, I’ve got some veil potion here if you want to talk about it…”

He extracted a vial of green liquid from his jacket, drawing a deep resentful snarl from the Fenrir until it was placed back in his pocket. “Still not gonna resort to witchcraft, eh? Even after you’ve been cursed. Well, it is your choice, but it’s getting a lot more common in the world out there though. Mystics like you are- oh, yes you are a mystic, don’t argue about that! They’re getting jobs now, mages are being trained, even you wouldn’t stand out that much. Mean look at me, I’m basically finding rogue mystics- which you are- now instead of killing them. Well, mainly.”

“So, not interested in using magic to talk about it. Other option I’m meant to do is take you back to the RUN guys to talk to and sort you out, but we’re pals so how about you come with me?”

The wolf tilted his head curiously, glancing back at the trees and woods that were home now.

“Well, you could stay like that and help me out like you used to. I’m getting older, I’d appreciate having a Fenrir to help me track down the quarry, and you wouldn’t have to worry about starving or freezing to death in the middle of nowhere. You’d be warm and fed and have a bit of company, I imagine it must get pretty lonesome out here.”

He growled quietly, tail waving as he thought. It sounded appealing, seeing people again, getting food and warmth and comfort, even if it was just old Nick and his family. But still, he was a monster, a huge wolf nearly five foot high, too big to move around, fearsome and hungry. What if he lost control and hunted something else? Tore someone up?

“We’ll still be hunting, you’ll still get to work out that energy, I’m not asking for a dog after all. And don’t worry about how you look, a massive wolf isn’t half as strange as it was back in the day. So what do you say?”

Somehow he found his paws bringing him forward and huge head nodded once. It was worth a try, just to get him somewhere else, and get him with someone. A hand patted the thick dark hair over his neck warmly as Nick chuckled, “Great then, you can finish that stag and then we’ll head off, the RUN guys’ll want some paperwork on you no doubt and we’ll need to come up with a new name for you if you don’t want to mess around with witchcraft. I should warn you too, my daughter was fairly under the impression that you’d take this option and she’s a bit of a fan of wolves so you might get a bit much attention when we see her. If she annoys you too much just growl a bit, she’s still not the bravest girl.”

Somehow that amused him and he let out a small bark before turning back to the deer carcass and setting to filling his belly.