Only Ghosts

The three bandits fled. They fled through the woods without knowing where they were going or what they would do, desperate to escape the cave where the devil vines dwelt. After a while, they found a clearing and decided to set up camp there. They cleared away the snow and laid down some oiled furs. They built a small fire pit which the leader lit with his torch.

No sooner did the flame ignite than dozens of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness of the woods.

The bandit leader wanted to laugh. "Wolves." And far too many for three men, one injured, to fight.

Alright, fine, he believed now that the sorcerer they had attacked had laid a curse on them. What else could he do but regret it?

The three bandits drew their weapons and also took up flaming torches, but the wolves seemed unafraid of the fire. They slowly narrowed their encirclement, growling and snarling. The bandit leader noticed one black wolf hanging back. He would have spared it no mind except for its glowing green eyes.

Suddenly, the leader's gaze shot to the trees. Again—again, he could've sworn he heard something. Was it the sorcerer? If he was nearby, then killing him might create a chance for them to escape this and survive!

"Are you afraid?"

The bandit leader narrowly avoided having his neck gouged out by canine fangs. He heard a sudden voice and turned toward where it it came from, looking for the thrice-damned sorcerer that did this to them.

He locked eyes with the black-furred wolf. It's glowing green eyes narrowed.

"Are you shaking? Are you confused?"

No mistake, the voice was coming from the wolf. The bandit leader gritted his teeth, frustrated by the possibility that the magical creature hadn't come here in person. Maybe if he killed its proxy, at least…

"I was going to make this quick and painful, but it seemed like you had the potential to hear my voice, so I waited for you to realize it."

His voice? Could it be… those faint sounds he heard before?

The wolf continued speaking, "You gave the order to shoot my Druid. Do you feel his panic now? Do you feel regret?"

Was the being talking through the wolf… really that sorcerer? It sounded more like it was his master. Two powerful sorcerers were aiming to kill just three ordinary men? The bandit leader felt his will to fight plummet. It was impossible to win.

"W-wait! I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding!"

The bandit leader gritted his teeth as he nearly lost a hand to a snarling wolf. He would die immediately if he dropped to his knees, but he did his best to look respectful in front of the green-eyed wolf anyway.

"I never would have ordered the attack if I knew who your apprentice was! And I'm no threat to him! Please, let me live—I'll do anything!"

"Boss, what are you saying?"

"Who are you talking to?"

The bandit leader spared a glance toward his last two subordinates, realizing grimly that they couldn't hear the wolf speaking at all. He must've looked mad to them, but he persisted.

"Please, your lordship! You'll never see us again, I swear!"

"You should have chosen to be kind before invoking my anger," the wolf said coldly. "It's too late once the landslide starts."

"Damn it!"

The three bandits tried their best to fight off the wolves, but they came from every angle, coordinating their attacks, leaping with insidiousness and caution only when the humans weren't in a position to counterattack. Even if most of the strikes were evaded or blocked, little by little they were being worn down. Finally, one of the watchmen got snatched by the throat and dragged away. The encirclement tightened for the bandit leader and his final lackey.

Said lackey was the next to fall, dragged away screaming as a pair of wolves caught both of his ankles in their vice-like teeth.

The bandit leader was left alone. He spun constantly on his heels, wary of attacks coming from his blind spot. He could see the hunger and bloodlust in the eyes of the wolves that surrounded him. His body felt weak after the evil cave plants had drained it of its vitality, and his breathing came in ragged gasps.

Just when he thought it was over for him, the pack suddenly took distance. The wolves stopped snarling and pacing and gave the bandit leader space. It didn't make sense, but he was simply relieved to hang onto life for a few more moments. The leader's eyes searched feverishly for an escape vector, hoping beyond hope that he could yet survive this night.

Then he saw it, an opening. Whether it might be a trap, the man didn't care. He ran for it with all he had… only to stumble and fall when a fiendish pain twisted his insides, making his abdominal muscles spasm and fail.

As the bandit leader, whom only ghosts now followed, writhed on the ground, clutching his stomach which squirmed like it was full of hungry rats trying to eat their way out, the black wolf calmly strode closer.

"I promised my Druid that you would die, and your fate has been sealed from that very moment. All of these theatrics were merely to sate my anger and levy the appropriate price for your sins."

"What did you do to me?" the bandit leader gasped, bloodfoam bubbling from the corners of his mouth and staining the snow.

"The witch vine did not just drink your blood. It planted its spores in you. They have been growing for hours now, and it is long time for them to reach their accelerated growth phase."

The bandit leader recalled the macabrely beautiful plants bursting from the bodies of his subordinates, coated in their oily blood. His face paled realizing the same fate awaited him now.

"No. Please." He begged, and the very act of speaking was now a harrowing agony. He could feel his abdomen squirming under his fingers. In the distance, he could already hear the sound of the wolves tearing into the bodies of his two subordinates, the only two who weren't infected with evil spores.

The black wolf lowered its snout close to his face, and as the bandit leader peered into its viridescent eyes, he saw his own gaunt, crying face.

The wolf growled, and the man heard meaning in it, "I know love, but I do not know mercy. Die."

In his final moments, as all hope eroded away and the young witch vines pierced his flesh and organs, blossoming into a monstrous crimson bouquet, the unfortunate bandit knew no mercy either.