The Chill

The shadows danced along the wall as the flame flickered, mildly illuminating the darkened form in front of Magnus. This quadrupedal beast slumped over the corpse of its recent prey, he watched it in fear, feeling the freezing sweat flow down the top of his head. No, it's not a beast. Beasts are the lions and bears held in the colosseum. This was not that. This was a creature of fear. A monster. The crimson stained fur twitched as the flesh of its victim ripped from their bone by its rabid drooling jaws. Magnus’s feet were rooted to the ground, trapping him as the breeze picked up once more as its claws dug into the skin of the poor boy. Magnus had seen nothing like this before, this wasn’t a wolf eating a deer, it's a massacre contained to a single person. The breeze pushing at his back hit his ear like an alarm bell, warning him to get away. He darted, knowing that it had got his scent. 

Magnus thought back to the previses day. Three dead bodies found, well bodies was the kind term, you wouldn't think of them as men by the time they were found. That’s why there was a night watch that Magnus was a part of, but by all the gods, he wasn't expecting to be searching for this. He had not run faster in his entire life, and he doubted he would run this fast again. He dared not look behind himself to see if the creature was after him, for fear it appeared in front. He just ran, faster and faster as the fear tried to drag him to his knees to pray. But as he ran his fear faded. The cold started to pass and the dimming torch in his hand began to grow. He could still see it, those jaws, a piece of blue fabric caught in its needle like fangs, the dripping blood coating his fur in a soulless shade of red, but now he felt safer, away from its cold grip on him. He banished these thoughts, he knew that prey never knows when it's going to die, that being calm is nothing but a tool for the hunter, and he would not aid this one. He started to make his way towards the watch tower. If he could make it to there, then he may be able to get help. His feet bleeding from the stones caught in his sandals could slow his pace. The comfort from the heat on his torch did nothing to calm him, not even the sight of the watch tower could, all it did was bring him closer to the next step. 

The tower door was wide open, not a soul to be found inside the spiraling walls. No trace of the night watch remained there, there should have been guards stationed to watch over the city, but there was nothing. Magnus barricaded the door, sealing the night out from the comfort of these torches. He carried his torch up the stairs to the top of the tower, viewing the streets from above. Like a Hawk eyes gliding over the city for any sign of movement in the grass, he watched for his hunter. He was left in a pit of silence with nothing but his torch and dwindling wits to keep him safe. The streetlights acted as hope for Magnus. As the flame burned strong, the cold chill of the creature must not have been near. But as this hope blazed, it soon felt itself snuffed out as the lanterns on a street, near the other side of the wall, began to flicker. Extinguished within seconds of him noticing, the other lanterns followed suit. Light after light dying, running down a line at incredible speed, until it stopped with a scream running just as fast along the wind. It had claimed more prey. 

Magnus stood watching for hours to come, the torch in his hand sending beats of pain through his hand as it tired, but he held tighter than ever. Calm had not set in for him, so when the sounds of movement came from behind, he leapt around to face this encroaching treat. The phantom sound left no trace, as he moved forward to investigate, he was hit in the face with the leathery wings of a bat looking for mice down below, sending him to his knees and the torch to wooden floor. After a moment of terror, he saw the now clear bat fly off as a silhouette on the moon. Of course, this terror returned tenfold as the flame of his torch spread through the wooden floor setting it ablaze. It spread like the plague coating him in a once familiar heat. He darted towards the hatch but found it in the center of the inferno. Magnus' comfort shifted as he edged closer and closer to the edge. Until the flame dimmed. It shrank and diminished until the heat coating his face gave way to a cooling nerve racking chill, as the flames left nothing, but the charred wooden floor of the tower remained. Apart from the fast moving shadows down below. 

The hatch was flung open as the burnt wood crumbled beneath his tightening grip. He darted down the stairs, watching the puncturing claws make their way up the tower at rapid speeds. Once reaching the bottom he made no effort to slow or brace before impacting the still barricaded door, bringing it down from the frame. The splintering wood mangled his arm, leaving it a mess of blood, bone and wood. The pain shot through him like fire, weakening his knees and filling the sky with an echoing scream. He dragged himself past the pain and into the rush of adrenaline and furthermore away from the now clattering claws and growls from the creatures behind him. 

He dashed down the paved roads, trying to outrun the cold wind pushing at his back, but felt it getting closer. The sound drilled into his brain, Scratch, scratch, scratch. Ring inside him until he couldn’t hear his own scream of fear. Scratch, scratch. Pulsing into his heart slowing the beat till it matched its pace. He ran through the streets, stalls and shops set along the busy road, all closed. His screams echoed through the stalls, someone must be there, someone must have broken it, anyone. He bellowed to the sky's praying for the creature to find new pray to spare him to have the gods take their mistake back and free him from this pain and fear. But no one saved him. He turned into an ally hoping for a way out, hoping to leave it behind. But he found nothing but a stone wall, too tall to climb. He could never turn around, if he didn’t look it wasn’t there, right? There was no monster with teeth sharp enough to pierce steel. There was no monster with claws that can mangle a man in minutes. There was no monster with fur drenched in the blood of that man. There was no monster waiting behind him with fangs pressed into his neck. 

The sun roasted his exposed neck, turned inside out from the tearing back of fangs imbedded there. His guts and heart exposed to light they had never seen before. Cooking them further as the flies broke down. The crowded market flood around him, but never reaching him. This new day left his body undisturbed, except for the crows swinging down for a meal. The sun has been up for 12 hours now, it should be setting soon, leaving his body prey to the monster that put him there. The sun dropped, darkening the blood more, as the guards ushered the stalls and vendors away and let the moon take its place. The body felt the cruelty of night once more as the nocturnal beasts arrived to enjoy the meal. The moon rose into the sky gleaming over the pools of blood formed around the corpse. This crimson pool rolled its way back towards the body of Magnus as the moon continued to grow. The bones jutting from his arms retracted and set in the elongated till the arms reached the balls of his feet. His back arched as the moon raised further pulling his spine up with it. His rotting skin pulled and stitched back together as tuffs of gray fur puffed out along it. The moon reached its highest point, his body slumped over, warped far behind its mortal form. It sniffed the air, searching for its prey.