Insatiable Hunger, page 15
Chapter
Thirty-Three
CAIN
John continued to make his way through the forest, unbothered by the intense storm that bubbled above. He was driven by an immense craving for revenge, one hand clinging to my hunting knife while the other burned bright with his green-colored fire. He was focused and alert, aware of everything around him as he pushed through the woods. I could feel my body weakening with each minute, unable to physically withstand such power in itself for long. I knew the possibilities of this outcome when I consumed the crushed remnants of John’s bone, but he promised me power—his power. Power to wreak havoc onto the others, and yet here we were, gallivanting through the woods in search of something called the Triad opposed to tracking the others. They were such easy prey, wounded and slow. We could have easily caught up to them, the strength of his power and my body unmatched, for now.
What even is the Triad? I asked from within my own mind. Why are we hunting them instead of the others? You promised!
Patience, dear Cain. “The Triad is not a what, but a who,” he spoke aloud, holding my hunting knife tightly within his grasp, scanning the trees for any sign of movement, listening.
Who are they? What about your revenge?
“The Triad is part of my revenge.” He spoke low, cautious to remain undetected.
Snap.
John whipped his head around, searching the darkness for the cause. “They are the unfortunate reason I was caught. You see, it was the Triad who handed me over to the protestants who founded this town. They are quite skillful and consist of three groups, each more powerful and ancient than the last.” He bent down, picking up a rock, tossing it in his hand before chunking it a few feet ahead. As the rock hit the ground, a metal clank pierced the air: the jaws of a bear trap striking the stone. John grinned, enjoying this new game. “It seems their hunting methods have not altered over the last few centuries. Splendid.”
John slithered along a tree as the rain poured onto my body. He climbed a nearby trunk, nestling himself onto a lower branch, watching the ground below. What groups is the Triad made of? Who are they? How did they catch you? John played with the knife, looking into the reflection as we stared at one another.
“One of the fractions consists of the descendants of the original protestants who built this town. Presumably, their beliefs are the same as the original men, which means they are extremely violent and religious, a fun combination when one is toying with them. The second group is what are known as the mountain men. That part is extremely skilled in hunting and tracking. They know more of these mountains than the protestants or townsfolk. They prefer to live within the trees, making nature their home. They too are religious, in their own unique way. History does them little justice, referring to them as simple hillbillies, but in truth, they are a strong community who are responsible for much of your world’s events, pulling the strings from the shadows. It is a pity you others have condemned them, portraying them as incompetent fools. They make such formidable prey.”
And the third group? I could feel a dark shadow fall across John’s face.
“The last group is by far the most dangerous, consisting of the original inhabitants of these lands. They come from tribes of ancient warriors who have protected these lands long before my kind, or any outside this world, ever ventured here. They steer the Triad, uniting the three groups into one, creating a powerful force. It was they who captured me. They are unmatched, protected by something old, making my magic useless against them.”
What is the purpose of the Triad? My curiosity only grew, starving for more information.
John repositioned his feet, lowering the knife. “Truthfully, I am not sure. The Triad was formed not long before I arrived in this world, but their true purpose branches from the original tribe members whose ancestors have dwelled in these lands centuries before the rest who fled to this new world.”
New world? Where are you from? I asked, slightly frightened by his words.
John smiled, his lips curling high. “I, dear Cain, am from an infernal town known as Bessetton. It is an old, decrepit place filled with darkness and evil. A place where someone can own your body and soul, forcing you to perform for the mere entertainment of those above you. Where they laugh and rejoice at your misery.” He shuddered, as if remembering something traumatic. “Ironically, it is not far from Bedeville, the cursed town this very one is named after.”
Snap.
John tilted his head, scanning the shrubs and patches of grass below. He watched closely, noticing the slightest movement just near the tripped bear trap. His hand burned, vibrant green magic flowing from his palm. My head ached, the power flowing through my body, slowly searing my nerves. Make it stop. Make the pain stop, John.
“Sadly, I cannot,” he whispered to me.
Why not? I demanded, pushing against his presence.
He shoved my existence back, his eyes remaining fixated below, catching a slim glimpse of a strange man. “You knew the risks when you offered yourself to me, Cain. Do not blame me for your misfortune. Others cannot withstand the dark magic of a hexer. The effects vary but, eventually, your body will weaken. It will slowly rot from the inside out, consuming your soul until your body fails you. Once it does, my soul will wander, searching for its next vessel, while yours withers away like dust in the air.” The sick reality hit me. I should’ve known there was a catch to our deal, but my judgment was clouded by my emotions, unable to understand the costs.
John’s lack of care for my life angered me. Release me. Find a new body!
“Too late, dear Cain. When you drank the water, mixed with the powder from my bone, you sealed the deal. There is no escaping your fate.”
This isn’t what we agreed! I pushed against his presence, fighting to take back my body. Get out!
John’s power forced me back, his inner voice echoing through my consciousness. Know your place! The words silenced me.
“Allow me this kill, and we shall hunt the others together. Your friends, the Triad, all of them. You may use my magic, let its chaos consume you so that you may become the most powerful version of yourself, raining your dark desires down onto those you despise.” I contemplated his offer.
If I am to die, then let us burn the world as I die with it.
The man below stepped from behind a tree, slowly moving towards the trap that rested at the base of the tree John was hidden within. His hand twisted as his fiery power gripped the man’s neck, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs.
“Perfect,” he purred. John leapt from the tree, landing on one knee. “Tell me, Cain.” He rose, approaching the fearful man as he remained constricted within his fiery grip. “Have you ever strangled a man before?”
Never. A strange excitement flooded my nerves, fighting back my horrible fate, swallowing the pain of his fluctuating power.
John raised his hand, his power pulling the man toward us as his neck met John’s open hand. “Alas, there is a first for everything.” As his fingers squeezed the man’s neck, I could feel my senses returning. He was keeping true to his promise, allowing me partial control. I slowly wriggled back into my own skin, the cold rain of the night tapping against my bare chest. John’s skull scratched my face as I twisted my own neck, settling back into place, this time equally alongside John.
My lungs inhaled deeply, breathing in the frigid night air, my hot breath fogging around my face as I embraced the chaos flowing through my veins, its power fueling me. The man helplessly fought against our combined strength, his hands clawing at mine, his nails digging into my flesh. Together, we held him firmly in place, constricting his airway, enjoying the moment. John’s magic flowed from my fingers, the absinthe burning into man’s skin. His silent cries, tucked between his choking, were music to my ears. I sat, slowly increasing the pressure of my fingers along his flesh, soaking in his fear. It’s beautiful. I could feel my body growing in excitement, hardening at the overwhelming moment.
John’s laughter echoed through my mind as he spoke out loud to me. “Snuff out his life, Cain. Consume his soul and unleash your chaos.”
My veins bulged, the green glowing beneath my flesh, itching in anticipation to be unleashed. I wanted to kill him, whoever this man was. I wanted to feel his life fade away in my hand. My breathing was rapid, increasing as my heart raced. I squeezed my hand, magic engulfing it as I continued the power so overwhelming that my grasp slowly ripped the man’s throat apart. His disembodied screams flooded my ears, dancing with the squishing sound of his neck tearing within my palm. I closed my eyes, absorbing the sounds as his warm blood splattered across my face and chest. A loud moan escaped my throat as I came, overly excited by the moment. My hand, holding only his bloodied spine, released his lifeless body as I fell to my knees, the extreme stimulation hitching my breath.
“Death is quite an aphrodisiac, is it not?” John laughed behind my eyes as I smiled, breathing heavily. I reached my arms up, both soaked in fresh blood, still elated by it all. “Feel the essence of his life atop your bare skin. Let the memory of his death wash over you.” I did as he said, rubbing the warm liquid across my chest, the touch adding to my overbearing excitement. “Good,” he purred. “Now, taste it.” I raised a finger to my mouth, lightning illuminating the deep red liquid. My tongue licked my finger, instant moans filling my throat as I sat, enjoying the bitter taste, my hands moving across my torso. I enjoyed the touch, the feel, of blood along my bare skin. I ran my palm across my mouth, my tongue licking the warmth as I moaned, embracing the moment.
I want more. My hand trailed down my stomach, unbuckling my belt as it slid beneath my jeans and gripped my cock. I tugged at my hardened self, rubbing my soaked palm up and down the shaft, the warm blood quickly growing my desires. I need more.
The storm roared above, lightning flashing again as I closed my eyes and listened to the thunder. “Imagine the feelings you will experience when the dead body is that of your dear Alaska.” His words enhanced my touch, his magic burning along my cock as he spoke to me, teasing. “Or Ruby’s sweet blood,” he moaned alongside me. “Yes, her blood was so sweet, unlike her.” His memory of how her blood tasted flooded my brain as I neared the edge, the speed and pressure of my hand increasing, impatiently wanting more. “What about Lazarus? Imagine, you could take your time killing him, listening to his screams, filled with agony as you slowly torture him. Make your precious Alaska watch as you murder him before her and bathe in his blood.”
Yes. Yes! My eyes shot open as I came hard, my body convulsing, thrusting as every last drop of my excitement left my cock. Yes.
I tried to steady my breathing, clouded by a euphoric high. I looked down at the man’s body in front of me, his lifeless eyes staring back, the reflection of me dancing in his glassy eyes. I gripped his shirt, rubbing myself clean as I fixed my pants, latching my belt, and stood to my feet. I brushed my wet hair back, rain streaking the blood that smeared across my skin. I’m ready.
John raised my arm, the knife returned to my hand as he looked at me through the reflection. A cold gust of air floated around as he sniffed, smelling the faintest hint of smoke lingering in the air. A sinister grin slithered across my face as his single green eye flickered. “Time to hunt.”
Chapter
Thirty-Four
LAZARUS
Alastair snarled, warning the overwhelming number of strange people who surrounded us. He snapped, biting the air between us and them, as I held Alaska’s limp body close to my chest, the blood of my wound soaking her pale hair. My hand fumbled, gripping the knife from its sheath as I swung, holding it high in defense. “Stay back!” Jinx gripped Ruby’s chest as Ruby held her good hand high, magic flickering from her palm. She was weak, losing too much blood from her injured ankle. She wouldn’t last long if she used her magic now.
The numerous strangers parted as an older man, the one whose cabin we were staying in, stepped forward. He was holding a rifle and lantern, same as the night we arrived. “You shouldn’t be here. They’re coming.” His voice was oddly deep and soothing. He tossed his long, braided black hair behind his shoulders, his dark, sun dried skin sagging around his aged face as his russet eyes moved to me and passed his rifle to the person beside him.
“Who’s coming?” I demanded, holding my knife firm.
“Let me see her.” Before I could respond, he moved towards Alaska. I tried to stop him, but one of the many people from his group pushed the muzzle of his rifle against the back of my head.
“Don’t move,” they grumbled.
I froze, carefully watching as the old man groaned and kneeled next to me. His hand trembled, shaking as he brushed Alaska’s hair aside, noticing the blood dripping from her nose. He scoffed. “She’s drifting.” Drifting? What the hell does that mean? “She needs proper rest.” The old man sniffed the air, catching a whiff of Ruby’s blood. He turned, looking at Ruby, her wound obvious beneath their lighting. “You need medical attention, both of you.” The old man struggled to stand, two members of his group quickly helping him to his feet. The same hair-raising screech from before pierced through the night and it set my nerves on edge as I clung Alaska’s body closer to my own. The old man cautiously glanced around, studying the trees. “We need to leave. Evil is nearby.” His gaze returned to me as thunder echoed. “You must come with us. Quickly.”
“Why the hell would we go with you?” Ruby snapped, wheezing her words through the pain.
The old man grabbed his rifle back as one of the group members extended it out to him. “You can come with us, back to our camp where we have a fire, food, water, medicine,—all the things you need, or you can stay here and let the Wendigos devour you.” Her eyes widened.
Ruby signed to the man. “What is that?”
He furrowed his brows. “What is she doing with her hands? Why does she not speak?”
The muzzle of the gun lifted from the back of my head. “She’s deaf.” I sighed, directing my hands toward Jinx. “He can’t understand you.” She huffed and rolled her eyes. I turned to face the old man. “She can read lips, but you need to speak clearly or else it's harder for her.”
The man grunted, turning as he began to walk away. “The choice is yours.”
One by one, the surrounding people began to follow, leaving us alone. “Wait!” I shouted. “If we go with you, will you help us?”
The old man stopped, lightly turning his head, speaking over his shoulder. “We will make sure you are taken care of. All of you.”
“You can’t be serious. Lazarus!” Ruby snapped.
“Enough! You need help, Ruby! So does Alaska. If they can help us, why not let them?”
She stared at me, quiet as she pondered for a moment. “What about Cain?”
“Your friend is marked for death. Possessed.” The man surprised us with his statement. “Poisoned by the soul of the very witch who plagued these lands long ago. There is no saving him.”
“We don’t care about saving him, but he’s hunting us. If we go with you, he’ll follow,” Ruby snapped, wincing as her wound continued to bleed.
“We do not fear him. We stopped his kind before, and we can do it again.” The man’s face turned as he resumed walking away.
I turned to look at Ruby, the two of us silently nodding in agreement. I carefully stood, positioning Alaska’s body in my arms, my chest piercing with pain as Jinx tried to help Ruby to her feet. Ruby screamed in pain as she pressed her weight onto her injured foot. Two random men from the group suddenly approached, one helping Ruby as he wrapped her arm around his neck, lifting her weight from her leg. The second man approached me, offering to help with Alaska, when Alastair snapped at him, growling, refusing to let him near. The wolf remained on edge, untrusting of the strange man. Why is he being so aggressive? The man glanced from the wolf to me, unsettled by the action.
“I got her.” The man nodded, quickly sprinting to join the group. I got you, darling.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
ALASKA
The smell of smoke filled my nostrils as the sounds of muffled voices and rain pulled me from the darkness, dragging my consciousness from the empty pit. My lids strained, struggling to open, heavy and exhausted. “Lazarus,” I groaned softly, my head still spinning. There was no answer. I ached, reaching my hand out into the abyss, when a familiar shape approached, nudging me gently as it rubbed along my hand and licked my face. “Alastair.” He whined, dropping as he curled up against me, the warmth of his large frame soothing my nerves. “Hey, handsome.” I smiled, stroking his soft, pitch-black fur. My uneasiness melted away as I sat there, petting him. “Where’s Lazarus?” Alastair huffed, returning to his feet before walking away, disappearing as I blinked.
My vision slowly returned as the numbness in my body began to prickle, the sensation of feeling returning to my limbs as my nerves began to wake. My eyes stumbled around, trying to understand where I was, grasping at the hints of my surroundings. I was laying on the ground, padded with blankets in a small room. No, this isn’t a room. I stared at the moving walls, deep green and wavering with the wind. Where am I?
My brain slowly sparked, realizing I wasn’t in a room, but a tent. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a simple tent you’d use for camping. Aside from the pile of blankets I was nestled in, there was a small lantern that provided little light. The entrance of the tent was unzipped and exposed to the woods, allowing the heavy smell of smoke and voices to trail inside. Rain tapped against the tarp-like fabric above, the storm now relaxed, nothing more than a simple downpour. My eyes moved to the rounded ceiling of the canopy, watching the shadows of the trees rock back and forth, the sound of nightlight singing in the distance. It was almost relaxing.
“Hey.” Lazarus’ voice pulled my focus to him as he leaned inside the open flap. He was wearing a clean shirt, no tears or blood, his old, shredded t-shirt gone. “There’s my little dreamer. How are you feeling, darling?” He carefully sat down next to me, his hand gently brushing my hair aside as he examined me closely, his fingers gliding sweetly along my skin.
