Human or Beast (2)

Chapter 14

Just then the young man launched his counterattack—his claw lashing out with deadly precision. The sheer speed and brutality behind each strike made him look less like a fighter and more like a nightmare made flesh.

Conner stood frozen, watching in stunned silence. The young man he thought was doomed… was dominating the pack of Beak Wolves like it was child's play. The craziest part? He looked thrilled—no, excited. His grin stretched from ear to ear, as if the carnage brought him joy.

The battle continued with wild intensity. The brown-haired man darted through the wolves' attacks with inhuman agility. He didn't emerge unscathed—claws tore across his skin, adding fresh streaks of red to the dozens of old scars already etched across his body. Yet not once did he slow. If anything, he moved with even more elegance and violence.

With a savage twist, he tore open the throat of another wolf. The beast collapsed in a heap, twitching. Only two remained now—and Conner could swear he saw fear in their eyes.

He didn't blame them. If he were in their place, he'd be terrified too.

One of the wolves bolted, fleeing into the trees. The young man's eyes narrowed, glinting with amusement.

"Oh? Trying to run?" he muttered with a smirk.

He bent slightly, eyes sharpening like a predator's before the kill. For a heartbeat, he radiated the same suffocating pressure beasts used on prey. Then—boom. He kicked off the ground, shattering it underfoot as he launched himself forward with terrifying speed.

In a blink, he appeared behind the fleeing wolf, leapt into the air, and came crashing down—both feet stomping on the beast's skull. With a sickening crunch, its head caved in, then burst entirely.

Another one down.

But he wasn't done.

The final Beak Wolf charged in desperation, its massive beak snapping forward. But the young man caught it—one hand clamping down on the beak, the other gripping its neck.

Conner blinked. That wasn't just fast—it was insane. Could anyone even do something like that?

Then came the real shocker.

With a growl, the young man's muscles tensed. His face twisted with effort as he pulled—ripping the wolf's head clean off with a wet, sickening tear. He flung the limp corpse to the ground like garbage.

Conner's heart hammered in his chest. For weeks, he'd wandered this cursed forest, praying he'd meet another intelligent being that wasn't hostile. It seemed his wish had been granted.

This man was clearly human—or at least, mostly. His sharp fangs and clawed hands hinted at something else entirely. Something dangerous.

And Conner had no idea whether he was lucky or cursed to have met him.

But none of that was what truly terrified Conner.

It wasn't just the young man's inhuman strength, nor the savagery in his attacks, nor even the trail of blood and torn bodies left in his wake. No—the thing that made Conner's skin crawl and his breath hitch in his throat was the way the man enjoyed it. The sheer delight on his face as he slaughtered those beasts. Every grin, every twitch of those clawed hands screamed one thing:

He was born for this.

Every muscle in Conner's body screamed at him to run. To flee and never look back. And he didn't need instinct to tell him that—his mind had already made the decision. He was going to get the hell out of here while he still could.

Thankfully, the blood-soaked monster hadn't noticed him.

Or so he thought.

The young man—dripping with gore, his eyes glowing faintly beneath tousled brown hair—turned slowly and looked directly at the tree Conner was hiding behind. A smile crept across his face. It was sharp. Friendly. And absolutely demonic.

"Hey," the man said casually, voice laced with dark amusement. "No need to be shy. Come on out. I promise I'll make your death as painless as possible."

He paused.

"Well… no promises."

Conner's blood ran cold.

Oh crap.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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