Hunter being hunted (1)

Frozen in the rain, George's clothes and skin drenched in dark red. Tattered scraps of flesh and gore dripped from his gaping maw lined with jagged obsidian fangs. What remained of the robber lay in shredded pieces at his feet.

For a long moment, George simply stared uncomprehendingly at the mutilated remains, his mind unable to process fully what had just occurred. One minute he was the victim, bleeding out from a vicious knife attack. The next, some ancient, primordial force had seized control of his very being, transforming him into a grotesque butchering horror.

He retched violently, thick ropes of half-digested matter splattering the pavement as his body convulsed. George doubled over, gripping his midsection as wave after wave of nausea roiled through him. When the heaving finally subsided, he straightened, legs rubbery and shaking.

His hands were trembling uncontrollably. George raised them towards his face, smearing the sticky red ichor across his ashen features. A guttural, animalistic whine built in his throat as he took in the sight and scent of the robber's remains surrounding him.

"Wh...what have I...?" he croaked, his voice little more than a reedy whisper.

Panic set in, his heart thundering in his ears. George spun in a dazed circle, the alleyway seeming to stretch on interminably in all directions. He had to get away, put as much distance between himself and this... atrocity as possible before someone else stumbled across the scene.

Not pausing for a minute longer, George took off at a staggering run down the alley and out onto the main street. He ran with no real destination in mind, his mind consumed by a singular, primal drive to flee. The rhythmic pounding of his footfalls and ragged breathing were the only sounds in his awareness.

At some point, George realized he had entered the boundaries of a park. Gnarled trees and shrubbery whipped by in a greenish blur as he sprinted wildly down the wooded trails. Branches snagged and tore at his clothes and exposed flesh, but he didn't feel the stinging grazes in his desperation.

Only after his lungs felt fit to burst did George finally slow to a stumbling halt. He careened off the trail, crashing through the underbrush until he fell against the gnarled trunk of a massive oak tree. Chest heaving, he slumped to the damp earth, drawing his knees up tightly against his chest.

George buried his face in his hands, harsh, wracking sobs tearing from his throat. Despair and self-loathing swamped him as the immensity of his actions came crashing down in waves. He had become a monster, a soulless creature of violence and depravity, no better than the scum who had attacked him.

'No,' a darker part of his psyche hissed insidiously.

'You are far worse. At least the robber was only motivated by greed and base human weakness. You are something...other. Something unholy, irredeemable,'.

"No, nononoNO!" The shriek of denial tore from George's throat in a hoarse rasp. His fingers dug against his scalp hard enough to draw blood. "I'm not...I can't be! Carmen, oh god, I'm so sorry...!"

George's voice cracked as a fresh storm of tears spilled from his eyes. He rocked back and forth in abject misery, the familiar anguish over Carmen's death intermingling with the fresh torment that he had now completely surrendered whatever vestiges of his humanity remained.

How could he allow this unholy metamorphosis to occur? What karmic crimes could he have possibly committed to deserve being warped into such an obscene and depraved shell of his former self? And worst of all, wherever Carmen's soul is, could he ever be redeemed in her eyes after sinking to such abhorrent depths?

So consumed was George in his spiral of grief and self-hatred that he didn't immediately register the soft footfalls and rustling foliage approaching through the gloom. It was only when a rich, feminine voice sliced through the night that his entire body went rigid.

"Such misery and strife I sense rolling off you in waves, lost one," the melodious voice intoned.

George's head snapped up, eyes wide and wild as they searched the shadows in vain for the source of that ethereal voice. It seemed to reverberate all around him, caressing his ears like a lover's breath.

"Wh-who's there?" he shouted hoarsely. George scrambled up, back pressed against the tree's rough bark as his gaze flickered about frantically. "Show yourself!"

At first, he perceived nothing but the natural nighttime ambiance of the park - the gentle patter of rain through the canopy above, the occasional hoot of a distant owl, the rustling of brownsed branches in the breeze.

Then, without fanfare or announcement, a figure materialized before him in a swirl of ruby and midnight mists. Had he blinked, George might have missed her subtle arrival entirely. As it was, his breath caught in his throat at the striking vision before him.

She was stunning, almost supernaturally so. Her raven tresses spilled over bare, olive-toned shoulders in silken waves, the ebony locks shining with an otherworldly luster despite the lack of moonlight. A cascade of shimmering red fabric was draped across her lithe form in artistic swaths, somehow managing to remain modest yet utterly enticing.

It was only when their gazes met and locked that George felt his first frisson of primal unease. Her features were undeniably striking - pouty lips, high cheekbones, eyes tilted in an exotic almond shape. Yet there was an undercurrent of something...other lurking behind those obsidian orbs.

"Do not be afraid, lost one," the apparition whispered in that syrupy tone that conjured images of siren's calls luring men to their dooms. As if he were hypnotized, George nodded slowly despite every cell screaming its protests.

"I sense great anguish has befallen you," she continued, raising one delicate hand to trace idle patterns through the air. Emerald motes of energy swirled in her wake, taking the rough shape of spectral wings unfurling around her slender form. "Tragedy and torment not meant for the human spirit."

At the word 'human', George flinched as if struck. His gaze skittered away guiltily, a flush of shame coloring his cheeks as the memory of his recent monstrous indiscretions flashed vividly. He opened his mouth to respond, to confess to the horrors he'd wrought in blind savagery...but the words caught like shards of glass in his throat.