Chapter 475

The name Veerendra reverberated through the hunting circles, a legend whispered in awe and envy. An Indian man of imposing stature, with eyes that held the glint of both predator and philosopher, he had carved a path of unparalleled prowess across the globe.

Veerendra's skill with a rifle was unmatched, his tracking instincts almost preternatural. He moved with a calculated grace, as if the wilderness itself bent to his will.

His trophy room was a testament to his skill; mounted heads from African lions and Russian bears sat beside rare jungle cats and mountain goats, each a marker of his ambition. But it was not merely the acquisition that drove Veerendra; it was a deeply personal contest with nature, a quest to test the limits of human ability against the untamed.

He was drawn to places few others dared, drawn by the lure of the dangerous and the unknown. He studied each quarry, immersing himself in their behavior and habitat, not just to become the better hunter, but, as he put it to an interviewer, to be "one" with them before "claiming the prize".

This had an uncomfortable truth in what it meant for each animal; he'd track them relentlessly for weeks on end until the point of the animals mental and physical breaking points. To that point, each victory was far more grotesque to others than himself.

One such draw took him to the dense, unmapped jungles of Southeast Asia, a place spoken of in hushed tones by locals. They warned of shadows that moved when the eye was averted, of things that existed just outside the spectrum of reality, a presence old as time, ancient and powerful.

Veerendra, of course, was unmoved by superstition. He'd learned that a hunter cannot be fearful and he pushed any concerns, even when a chill crept up his spine despite the tropical humidity.

He secured guides for the jungle's perimeter and spent a day preparing with supplies, which all involved were sure it wasn't necessary. He had all the top end technology a hunter would want in their gear but had all also made sure they didn't impede his primitive style of the hunt.

A small pistol, rifle, many tools of the trade and what felt like excessive clothing; to this strange adventure they went and began trekking through.

"The deeper in we go, the less noise there will be from any kind of animal or insect. Do you find that strange, Mister?" said his head guide.

Veerendra looked, annoyed, through his dark brow and nodded once, looking forward and continuing at his own pace as he replied, "Very".

The air grew heavy as the group pushed deeper, the vibrant calls of birds fading to a stifling silence. Even the persistent thrum of insects, which could typically be heard, faded as if consumed by some greater entity.

The trees were colossal, their gnarled limbs twisted into grotesque shapes and their canopy blocked the sun, creating a dim twilight beneath. Every now and then Veerendra would try the radio for his small tracker which tracked any big-animal prints.

He picked up signals that kept darting forward like prey being cornered and so he followed, but, it also seemed to move around too many trees or around entire areas altogether at a very un-animal like movement. Veerendra shrugged it off at this.

Days blurred into nights, filled with the ceaseless feeling of being watched, not with eyes but with something more instinctual and older. Shadows grew more bold in the day, more solid in substance but only to the corner of their vision; they turned fast to nothing, but those shadows kept them uneasy nonetheless.

He tried to dismiss the prickling unease as exhaustion and perhaps it was the local tales; that his subconscious was now giving light to them because he allowed it to think, but he was far too great for this.

His guides grew more restless, their pace becoming faster despite Veerendra's disapproval, as if their fears pushed their legs forward while they pushed it down into a state of numb acceptance. But every one, no matter what the man tried, stopped talking.

It was a mix of fearful silence with almost...admiration for Veerendra, as his unshakeable drive pushed them deeper. He could see they thought they had no escape except through this strange path.

They wouldn't move. Veerendra paid them. This would surely have them more motivated, he thought.

"It feels like…the trees don't let any light through…or that sound, anything" said his now frantic main guide in his native tongue. It finally got to Veerendra's annoyance, that even despite the promise of riches, this simpleton could still fear this simple location.

But there was another voice. A chorus of other voices.

This pushed Veerendra back to an almost nervous stance for even him; it's almost as if the trees spoke back, the voice the air had when it passed through thousands of tight cracks that suddenly seemed like they appeared.

It said back the same sentence in its native language but a completely warped form, something they didn't sound and he saw that it struck something inside his guide's face to twist in pain. That was until Veerendra punched the back of the head which quieted him.

This got Veerendra's full, but guarded attention as he could feel the space in the atmosphere begin to crack and bend in odd ways. It's difficult to describe other than things began to make shapes that made less sense, things he couldn't begin to form the meaning to it; in a single sentence, it would seem a space from another dimension began to bleed here.

He was ready. They continued in complete and tense silence, further and further in as their shadows shifted as much as their moods until they reach the middle of this area.

It had trees that encircled around with a sort of open air but dim central part, where the jungle floor appeared clear; almost like an old ruin, made for a kind of performance. His radio for his tracking unit went haywire here, not a single noise of the signal being anything remotely familiar.

Rather that every part of it pulsed different wavelengths back at him, with no specific pattern and an unnatural form that was unnerving for what his machine usually gives to animals. There, in the center, was a series of disturbed leaves, where something seemed to stand or dance a while ago.

There they stop, staring at each other as one does in these horror flicks, until he nods his head and the guides all disperse with some relief at finally doing some actual work. It wasn't going to be easy he could see from his guide's faces that some unseen terror loomed with every footstep they now dared to put forward.

Veerendra surveyed his surroundings. This felt, different.

It did have a history, almost ancient that made any of the previous hunts like small practice. As they kept guard he found that his rifle's sights locked on to something that made his hand start to tremble at its bizarre figure, but he kept cool nonetheless and watched what, exactly this would lead to.

Something long, insect like, made from darkness and yet some semblance of fur danced at the perimeter. Veerendra stood strong despite this obvious show of fear as if challenging his quarry to reveal its true self, and with an otherworldly shriek it dashed further behind more trees where its silhouette looked as if a massive tree walked at their direction.

The trees all twisted in front of him and blocked it again with impossible ease but as it faded he knew now what it wanted; this creature was playing him for its own enjoyment. Like the thrill seeker he was, this excited him, which gave more courage, a feeling he missed in such an ancient environment that showed respect in some twisted sense; at this very least.

They all readied as they knew it'd return and then, as it did; their fears seemed more realized and grotesque with this new creature before them all. It was something both tangible, and like smoke, but it was here.

It let out that screech once more, much stronger and the ground shook. Veerendra looked down and could feel his stomach lurch.

What he'd always expected had finally arrived; everything that he took part in for all these years of slaughter. The hunt had taken over him and would not let go as the floor looked like a viscous puddle.

The creature began a calculated and grotesque song as the floor seemed to melt his boots off of his feet. They sank in this tar.

It started with a subtle tremor, and an earth-shattering shift from underneath. Veerendra tried to command them but they began shaking with more obvious fear but also a slight and grim, satisfaction, that something that haunted their soul, finally became flesh and would finally stop all their worries and questions, only the now is here, this felt better for them, this was an easy escape than working to fight.

Veerendra struggled, feeling something pull his body down. As he did his body pulled apart.

It did this over and over and every single tear did not create pain, but pure mental breaking agony. A sensation he has never felt even as he ended those hunts himself.

With another shake, more parts peeled off and went down with his boots as more began forming from what had been; where a very dark red became the next dark substance with long tendrils. He clawed, not at the tendrils or floor as his consciousness finally realized, but at his now form that had a very sinister smile to it.

His head watched as he pulled apart with these other-self forms into the black, slowly being consumed. He reached for the heavens; desperate for anything that would stop this unholy torture but was not able as his entire body twisted at the will of the very ground below.

In the coming weeks, the authorities would come with the guide group to this point, not even close to what they were ordered. But there they found a single foot of a hiking boot as if it'd been pulled from its wearer violently.

They could smell something foul near but it smelled like it wasn't in that world anymore but rather coming from it like an open wound; and that, scared the remaining guides for an eternity. The authorities all took many precautions at each new location as if anything could possibly stop this kind of creature if it could come here to begin with, despite the very real lack of evidence.

A team was quickly created with the resources to not get lost for very long again to look for any sign, or body; even, if it was an entirely broken body, at this point. Nothing.

Even at great cost of life, they still couldn't find what happened to Veerendra. Some speculated about what that could even be or whether Veerendra found something out of a fairy tale; they quickly moved to deny all of this; too dangerous, this kind of thinking, after such an odd event that held far too many weird specifics, rather than the usual missing man type of scenario.

So many odd factors lead to many uneasy minds. Veerendra had found his ultimate prize, but it was never anything that would've held a value other than an ending for his bloodlust and finally at rest after years of chasing this thrill; but not an end where rest was possible.

He had become part of the nightmare he sought to dominate, his ambition transformed into a monument to hubris, forever to feed a land where even shadows themselves had a history of something much older. A land that found use for someone like him for whatever oddity their god wished them.

Veerendra became part of the story of this forest as it gained yet another monster for his blood lust, just now being forced into service rather than the selfishly, independent form it used to be. As a whole became part of that world's history that haunted each tree, and every shadow of this nightmarish forest forever, now with his face forever etched with that knowing sinister smile for everyone, for an eternity.