Leaning against a railing, you listened to Eileen as she grimly detailed her next target. The two of you had forged a relatively close bond and she trusted you with details of her dealings with hunters that had strayed irreversibly from their path. “Now, I admit, I shouldn’t be disclosing this, hunter…” her beaked visage turned to look at you directly. “Promise me that you will not involve yourself in these affairs. This is purely conversational, you understand?”

Of course, you had agreed. However, the man she had described to you was an old friend. Though your paths had since diverged, you had only pleasant memories of your previous camaraderie. You felt that the least you owed him was a heads-up. He could be quite…well…passionate in the way he spoke of his work, but you couldn’t imagine him meaning any harm to those that did not deserve it. Perhaps she had mistaken his enthusiasm as a threat?

As you came up on the entrance to the familiar wooded area, you could see a similarly familiar figure leaning on his cane, face obscured by that strange one-eyed helm that almost looked to be fitted for somebody else. As you drew closer, cautiously, you could see that his hand clutched the tip of the cane like a claw, trembling heavily. There was an unmistakeable scent in the air, faint but present. Beasthood. “Valtr?” you questioned, gauging the veracity of Eileen’s words.

He mumbled darkly in response, and you only caught the tail end of it “…cleanse the streets of this filth.” The way he enunciated the ‘f’ in ‘filth’ had you unconsciously flinching back, for fear of being sprayed with spittle. Remembering that his face was, in fact, fully covered didn’t comfort you enough for you to move closer again. Halting in your tracks, hand readying for combat, you observed cautiously. Valtr approached you instead, knees shaking slightly as he did. You stood your ground, hoping that he could still be convinced to behave with reason. Despite his harsh words, he appeared frail. You did not relish the idea of Eileen ending his life, it felt wrong, somehow. Might that be because you knew Valtr, had fought alongside him in the past? Were you biased in this instance? Perhaps…

“Good evening, Valtr. It’s me, one of your faithful Confederates…” his head quirked slightly at your soft words, and he observed you with new interest. “Do you remember me? I know it’s been a little while. I do apologise for that. Times have been… tough.” What an understatement. Fumbling in your head for the right words, you struggled a little with his lack of response. Slowly, with a shuddering hand, he brought slender fingers to his helm and lifted it from his head. The sight of him shocked you. The man was simply…. dishevelled. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and had a wild edge to them you had only seen hints of long ago, when he would get a little too into his lectures about vermin. His light facial hair looked grubby and his once luxurious shoulder-length blond hair hung about his head in tangles. Dark purple circles had taken up residence under his piercing eyes, giving him a haunted look. You noticed that his thin lips had been gnawed raw, as though from nerves. The sight of it caused you to start nibbling on your own lower lip, anxiously.

Pulling you from your thoughts, Valtr finally spoke again, a dark voice wavering into the chill evening air. “You are no Confederate of mine… I can see it, writhing within you…” his eyes darkened with loathing. “Vile filth! Begone from my sight!” He suddenly brandished the cane, threatening worse as his other hand reached for his weapon. Panicking slightly, relying on his recognition of you to proceed with your plan, you rushed at him.

Tangling a hand in his long blond hair, you forced him to look at you in the eyes. “Valtr! You need to pull yourself together. You are in danger. Let me assist you, as I have done in the past! Please!” Cursing your lack of eloquence in the moment, you hoped that the simple facts of the matter would be enough to galvanise him. The rest could wait. For a second, you could almost swear you saw a flicker of the man you used to know wavering behind his eyes. This was soon quashed as he grasped you by the shoulders and forced you to your knees. Shocked, you complied.

“You… claim to be my Confederate. If this is true, then surely you will have no issue proving your unwavering loyalty to your Master?” His mouth curled in a cruel smile. Moving one of his boots closer to your face, he gave a quiet bark of a laugh. “Get down. That’s right, on the floor, where you belong.” Feeling the press of his cane against the back of your head, you moved until your head was low to the ground, level with his shoes. Surely he could not be implying that he wanted you to..? Oh.

The filthy toe of his boot pressed against your lips which you kept clamped firmly closed. At your reluctance, he kicked his boot in a vicious nudge, splitting your lower lip. You grit your teeth but were no stranger to pain. Fearing what such force could do to your teeth or jaw if you didn’t comply, you slowly and unwillingly opened your mouth. Catching sight of the unhinged glint in his eye, you let your tongue unfurl. Softly, you closed your eyes. Tasting iron as blood seeped from your wounded lip, you finally let the tip of your tongue touch the worn leather. The taste wasn’t as bad as you had expected, though the humiliation had you flushed with embarrassment. You moved your tongue, allowing it to become coated in the specific earthy muck the woods had to offer. A few leafy scraps entered your mouth and you considered spitting them out but, glancing up at Valtr’s intense expression, thought better of it.

After what felt like an eternity, you could no longer taste any mud-encrusted patches on the tanned material. Swallowing hard, you drew back and surveyed your performance. It was… clean enough. Bringing yourself slightly higher into a kneeling position, still feeling utterly foolish, you tried once again to appeal to the man you had once known. You hoped that this humiliating display had not been for nought. “Valtr… I know you’re not feeling… right. I’m sure we can alleviate this, somehow. I just need you to try to remain calm.” Forcing a smile which looked more like a grimace, you tried for a little humour, hoping it would bring levity to the increasingly tense situation you had found yourself in. “I’m sure you’ll be back to exterminating vermin in no time.”

This was the wrong thing to say. Upon hearing the word ‘vermin’, a terrifying intensity flared in the man’s eyes. Bringing his foot up, he slammed it to the back of your head, flooring you in an instant. You lay, dazed, sprawled under his boot. “All vermin are to be crushed” he hissed, grinding his heel against your head. The side of your mouth pressed into the dirt and you tried to spit, tasting soil. The wound on your lip reopened to trickle pathetically across your cheek and your nose had been knocked in the fall. Crimson trailed from one nostril, dripping like the pitter-patter of light rainfall on the leaves beneath you. Gods, he had utterly lost control. Scrunching up your face, you tried to brace yourself for what was to come. You hoped that Eileen would not judge you too harshly for your foolishness when she found your body face-down in the dirt, the imprint of her target’s boot in what was left of your skull.

Suddenly, the pressure against your head let up, and you heard him stumble in the sparse undergrowth. Daring to look, you opened your eyes in time to witness Valtr collapse to his knees, cane thrown aside, fingers clutching at the ground. “Oh…” his voice was low, dangerous, “but your blood…” Inhaling deeply, his eyes rolled back in his head. The trembling evolved into a full-body shudder that wracked his frame, and you could hear the rasp of his breath as it dragged harshly through his lungs. Madness seemed to wax and wane in his eyes for a moment, settling on a wild stare which conveyed only one thing: hunger. In an instant, he was on all-fours, bounding towards you in a deranged crawl.

As soon as you felt his outgrown nails scrabbling at your clothes, you writhed in his grasp. “No… No! Get off me!” you shouted, fear gripping you with a cold dread. Kicking up at him, he grasped your foot and twisted it hard. Shouting, you grappled with him, but he was easily stronger in hand-to-hand combat. You didn’t stand a chance. After a minor struggle, he ripped your armoured pieces from your body and flung them aside. He brought his face to yours, and for a split second all you were aware of was his hot breath on your skin before he began lapping harshly at your wounded lip, snarling as you tried to pull away. His moustache scratched at your face as you wrenched your head from side to side, trying desperately to avoid his eager tongue.

Not satisfied with the small amount of blood he managed to lick from your petrified lips, your bleeding nose, he crawled atop you and tore your undershirt open with ease. Dimly, you were aware of someone screaming as you felt impossibly sharp teeth penetrate the delicate skin at the juncture of your shoulder. Like a dog, he gave his head a shake as he held you in his jaws, tearing further into your flesh. It was only when you began gasping for breath and the noise ceased that you realised it was you, howling in pain.

As though responding to that agonised sound, his head perked up. With his head raised like this, you could see the full effect that your blood seemed to be having on him. It appeared to have accelerated his descent into beasthood and his eyes were blown wide, feral. His scent had grown more pungent, like wet-dog mixed with… something grisly you couldn’t place. His lips were pulled back in a snarl, cheeks damp with crimson, as he stared down at his prey. Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed back up at him, horrified.

Valtr was still atop you, breathing heavy and ragged, and you felt as though this position became increasingly vulnerable the longer you remained prone. You tried to roll and dislodge him, but he was surprisingly heavy despite his slender frame. What was left of your undershirt was in tatters and you felt tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes as you pushed at his chest with impotent emotion. Why hadn’t you just listened to Eileen? This was beyond salvaging, he was beyond salvaging. You hoped fervently that she was on her way as you felt his weight shift erratically above you.

Valtr shuddered, letting out a low groan as he ravaged your body. He licked at your neck, at the wound he had left on your shoulder, across your exposed chest. You shrieked as he caught a nipple with a flick of his tongue. You could hear something, a growl, low and rumbling in his chest as he grasped at your trousers. Though you struggled and shouted, the woods were eerily empty. Even the serpents seemed to be hiding. They were the sensible ones, you thought. Your cries and half-formed prayers broke through the treetops into the heavens, where the deities ostensibly ignored them. The man, if that was what he still was, straddling you had made short work of your remaining clothing, leaving you only in your underwear.

Infuriatingly, your body had begun to respond to the heady mingling of abject terror and the weight of an undeniably attractive person kneeling atop you. Feeling a flicker of heat lick its way up your stomach, you determinedly pushed the feeling down, clenching your fist as though you could crush it. “Shut up… shut… up…” you breathed out loud, groaning in horror as you felt him tearing at your underwear with long nails. You had perhaps imagined this when you were both comrades, had always fantasised that the close friendship between you both might blossom into something more… intimate… but not like this. Soon, too soon - Gods, it’s too soon! - something heated and thick began to push against your quivering entrance. You writhed under him again, to no avail. A hand grasped at your hair, pulling you down with a painful jerk.

“Aaaaaaghhh, yessss…” Valtr growled, low and feral, as he filled you. In fear, you found yourself gripping him tightly, fingers digging in to that familiar navy jacket. Oh Gods, it hurt. Screwing your eyes shut, you tried not to cry at the agonising dry burn. Some depraved part of you had expected a knot or some kind of barb, but his length felt relatively normal as he pushed inside you. In a haze, you wordlessly thanked the uncaring deities that his bestial affectation hadn’t reached that far into his physical form. He was still large, however, and tears spilled from your eyes as you tried to become accustomed to this coupled with the overwhelming sensation of his relentless thrusting.

Once he was fully sheathed within you he let out a feral moan, long and drawn-out, a combination of a pleasured howl and a deeply satisfied purr. You were so unbelievably full that you felt both heat and sickness, wailing incoherently as he prodded at your insides. Long nails raked over your back, leaving behind tingling scarlet marks. Flecked with sweat and blood, he rutted against you like an animal. “Ah – ahhhn” you groaned reflexively as his length accidentally brushed up against a sensitive spot, clutching at the dirt beneath you. “Get… off…me…” you breathed weakly, far too late and ineffectual. You weren’t even sure that he could hear you now. The whites of his eyes were fully visible and his tongue lolled uselessly as he was overcome with frenzied desire.

His rhythm became even more punishing, knocking the breath from your lungs as he pounded you into the dirt. Long wet strings of saliva streaked your chest as he drooled, wheezing hot breaths in open-mouthed gasps. Leaning down to your bleeding shoulder, he began lapping at the wound again hungrily, with messy fervour. Clenching your teeth in pain, you felt his teeth do the same, biting at your shoulders, your neck. As you tried to pull away to protect your sensitive flesh, he snarled and snapped, eyes wild with rabid need. His teeth sank in mercilessly, tearing at you as he thrust inside over and over again. Trembling violently, the edges of your vision became blurred with static as you bled in flowing rivulets. Trying valiantly to remain conscious, you tried to focus on the pain, draw grounding strength from it.

Just as your vision clouded over with black, you felt Valtr give one last punishing thrust, the force of which pushed you along the ground. His hot seed spilled eagerly inside you, feeling for all the world like the blood leaking from your wounds. You heard an ungodly sound wrench itself free from his throat, the dreadful gurgling howl of a mindless beast. Awful cracking sounds split the night and you felt his limbs lengthening atop you, forming into something beyond imagination. You went to reach up your arm to give him one last useless shove, but you hadn’t got the strength to even lift it.

Distantly, you heard the approach of footsteps, crunching urgently through the undergrowth. Your extremities tingled with the lack of circulation and you, sick and spinning, fell into the waiting gloom of unconsciousness.