The Hunter

The Hunter was engulfed in a sea of warmth as he felt the soft touch of his long dead wife. He lay upon a plush feather bed, frozen in place as the form of the woman he once loved loomed over him. The absence of the moon caused starlight to gleam in from above, washing the room in an otherworldly glow. Her stark nudity unveiled a body that was both flawless and demonic. Every crevice and curve was exactly how he remembered it, stinging his mind in lucid remembrance of days long past. His hands, now shaking and slick with sweat, ran reverently down her body as she straddled on top of him. Something was wrong. He sensed it in the fear that slipped down his spine. In the inhuman perfection of her smooth pastel skin. And in the soulless look in her eyes as her lips warped into a bloodstained grin.

It was gone as soon as it appeared. Gone a second too late. The Hunter realized full well what was going on. A grin of his own began to play on the edges of his lips. Might as well have some fun with it. He tightened his grip on the edges of the demon's thighs as he allowed desire to overtake him. She let out a ringing cry of ecstasy.

The duo entangled in a primal dance of limbs till The Hunter's veins popped with exertion and the demon's disguise began to fade and distort. Her once pristine fingers drew blood as nails as sharp as knives dug deep into his back. The demon let out a low giggle as she nestled her head onto his shoulder. It was no human sound.

"I've trapped you, human." She declared, her seductive voice cracking with a fiendish undertone. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled her closer. He let his lips brush against her ear as he whispered.

"No… you're trapped in here with me!" Abruptly, he jammed his thumb into her throat, snapping her windpipe. Before grabbing a fistful of hair and slamming her head against a bedpost.

He threw himself off the bed in a tangle of sheets, rolling sideways and snatching a loaded crossbow before dashing from the room in a sprint. Behind him, the demon grabbed at the thick dark liquid that spilled uncontrollably down her neck and produced a screech that ruptured his eardrums and woke the denizens of the inn.

The Hunter ignored the horrified looks of his peers at the sight of his clearly ill-suited appearance. Right as he approached the end of the hallway he spun, fell to one knee, and perched the crossbow against his shoulder. He glanced down at the bolt, and a smile spread completely onto his face this time.

Long bone chilling tentacles shot out and battered against the wall. They were a shade of red so dark it might as well be black. What followed was nothing short of an unspeakable nightmare. The demon's true form was a grotesque sight to behold. Her body was twisted and contorted in ways that defied human anatomy, with elongated limbs that ended in razor-sharp claws and a gaping maw filled with rows of jagged teeth. Her skin was mockmarked and disfigured, surrounded with writhing tendrils that seemed to pulse on their own accord.

She shot down the hall in a blur, he aimed for her head and released with no hesitation. It connected. Sparks streaked through the air, a beam of light, a rush of fire, a stench of decay. He glimpsed upward, threw the crossbow to the side, and barreled down the hall straight at the now convulsing devil.

His fist connected against her face with no retaliation, his knuckles shattering as he did. She soared through the air. The body connecting with the window and sending a torrent of glass across the hall. He gazed out what lay beyond, and took a step into open air, falling from the top floor of the inn itself.

The Hunter landed nimbly against cobbled stone. The rain around him fell like icy needles, piercing through skin and bone alike, making it feel as if the very heavens were unleashing their wrath upon the earth. Just ahead, the mangled lump of flesh that was once his wife gaped at him in fear. For as lightning cracked through the sky like an angry whip, the man that stood before her looked more like a demon than she ever was.