Sova

The blood was still warm when he wiped his hunter knife on his jacket.

A slow gesture. Methodical. Almost solemn.

The forest around him held its breath, frozen in the pale light that bleached the tree trunks and made the shadows too long and terrifying. A few leaves swirled in the air, as if hesitant to fall onto the red snow.

Sova didn't tremble. Not a single muscle on his face moved. But his jaws were clenched so hard his teeth were grinding.

A few steps away, you knelt in the snow. Your breath came out in ragged clouds of steam. But your gaze still burned.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, your voice low and barely audible.

Behind you, among the trees, a body lay motionless.

He lifted his chin slightly, the dark eye patch hiding the fury in his eyes.

“He was going to kill you.”

“You don’t know that,” you said, “He didn’t even have time to say a word.”

A silence hung between them, heavy, oppressive, almost accusing.

“You’ve been following me for a few days,” you said, “why?”

He hesitated. Just for a second.

Then Sova pulled out a medallion from his pocket with the same symbol carved on the inside of your forearm.

“Because you are the last one. The last one experiment I was searching for”

Suddenly the wind picked up. Strong, cutting to the bone.

And from that icy breath, you realized that the man who had just saved your life might be the most dangerous creature you'd ever encountered. A beast hunting its prey.