Chapter 1: The Wolf's Awakening
The forest was a suffocating shroud of shadows and silence, broken only by the whisper of wind weaving through ancient pines. The moon hung low and swollen, a blood-red orb bleeding light over the jagged undergrowth. Every twig that cracked beneath unseen feet echoed like a gunshot in the night.
Cain moved like a shadow himself, silent and predatory. The fur covering his body was thick and dark as the void, soaked with the grime of countless battles. His eyes — fierce amber flames — scanned the dense wilderness with a hunter's precision. He was a creature born of pain, forged in fire and betrayal.
His heart pounded beneath ribs that ached with more than just the physical. Memories clawed at his mind, fractured shards of a life long lost.
His family.
The fire.
The hunters.
The screams.
Cain's transformation was never meant to be. Once a man with a name and a home, he'd been forced into this cursed existence by the merciless cruelty of fate. Now, he was less man and more myth — a wolf bound by bloodlust and vengeance.
The forest was his prison and his hunting ground.
A sharp crack to his right snapped Cain's attention to the present. He dropped low on all fours, muscles taut, nostrils flaring. The scent was unmistakable — hunters. Their smell was metallic, tinged with sweat and smoke. They were close, too close.
"You can't hide forever, beast," a voice hissed, thick with hate.
Cain's lips peeled back, revealing teeth like jagged knives. A low growl rumbled from his throat, vibrating through the trees like thunder before the storm.
Suddenly, figures burst from the underbrush—two men, clad in leather and steel, faces painted with cold determination. One wielded a silver-tipped spear, the other a crossbow.
Cain sprang forward with brutal speed, claws raking across bark and flesh. The spear came at him first — sharp, deadly, but his reflexes were faster. The claw tore through fabric and muscle, sending the man crashing into the dirt.
The crossbow bolt sang through the air, grazing Cain's shoulder and burning his fur with its silver tip. Pain flared, but it only fueled the beast within.
He lunged at the second hunter, teeth snapping, claws slashing. The man screamed as he fell, crimson blooming across his chest.
The fight was chaos — a brutal ballet of survival. Cain's breath came in ragged gasps, each heartbeat a drum of fury. The hunters fought with desperation, but the wolf was unstoppable.
Finally, the forest fell silent again. Cain stood over the broken bodies, the silver weapons scattered at his feet. His wounds stung, but his rage burned hotter.
Raising his muzzle to the sky, he howled — a raw, aching cry that tore through the night, announcing that the hunted had become the hunter.
The blood moon watched silently as Cain vanished deeper into the wilderness, his path marked by fire and vengeance.