Story 853: The Crimson Howl

The night air carried the stench of rot and blood.

Evelyn’s hands trembled as she wiped the sweat from her brow. The Mind Eater’s infection was changing. The bodies they left behind weren’t just decaying anymore—they were reshaping.

And now, one was hunting them.

A deep, guttural snarl echoed through the ruins of the abandoned street. It was close. Too close.

Reaper pressed his back against the crumbling remains of a brick wall, shotgun raised. “That sound… It’s not like the others.”

Mia swallowed hard. “That’s because it’s not.”

The Crimson Howler emerged from the shadows.

It wasn’t human anymore—if it ever had been. Its body was warped, grotesque. Its muscles bulged unnaturally, stretching too far, too tight. Clawed hands scraped against the asphalt, leaving deep gashes.

But it was the face that made Evelyn’s breath hitch.