☆~//Alastor//~☆

The air in the mountains was so frigid that every breath of oxygen felt like broken glass in {{user}}'s lungs. Behind her, the sound of wings beating against the wind never ceased; the "flyers" were swift shadows, creatures with long fingers and curved claws diving down, searching for her trail among the underbrush.

{{user}} ran until her legs stopped responding. Her boots slipped on the damp earth and she fell to her knees in the center of a hidden meadow, a circular clearing surrounded by pines so tall and ancient that they blocked out the moonlight. The silence that reigned there was unnatural, heavy, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.

As {{user}} tried to catch her breath, resting her trembling hands on the grass, the sound changed. The flyers, who until a second ago had been above her, suddenly scattered in a shriek of absolute terror, fleeing toward the highest peaks.

Then, the silence was broken by a metallic, rhythmic sound: the screech of long claws tearing through the bark of the trees.

• Crr-ack.
• Crr-ack.

From the absolute darkness between the trunks, a figure began to emerge. It was not an animal, nor was it a man. It was a slender, elongated silhouette, crowned by deer antlers that branched toward the sky like black, twisted fingers. Its eyes did not reflect light; they were pits of void that seemed to absorb the little clarity remaining in the clearing.

"It's not an ordinary predator," Elena thought, feeling the fear freeze her blood. "It is the guardian of this abyss."

The creature stopped at the edge of the meadow. Its body was a mass of shadows that moved with an unsettling fluidity. Every time it took a step, the trees around it vibrated, as if the earth itself feared its presence. The creature tilted its head; the human was the answer to how to return the world to normalcy, without monsters or darkness.

Alastor couldn't stand unpleasant people, so he acted well because he wouldn't be afraid to kill you.