Demons 3 Draft 1 CH 01 (Patreon)

I run.

I run because my life depends on it. The creature hunting me drives me to run faster, I need a clearing to make my stand; it makes better use of the trees than I can. It has been chasing me long enough I know some of the signals to listen for. Its breath pauses while the running continues. It prepares to leap. The running stops and I do the same, to turn and stab it with the forming blade over my hand; but I skid on the dew-covered ground. I don’t have the claws it has for traction.

My falls means he flies over me. I slash at it. My black blade contacts with its dark brown hide, but the hide ripples, redirecting my blade aside, leaving only a small cut instead of the deep gash I hoped for. I scramble to my feet as it lands five feet away and I run again.

Claws warned me the wild had creatures more dangerous than demons, more dangerous than he was. I didn’t doubt him, Claws never lied to me, but for the last year of my wandering the worse I have dealt with is the occasional demon to young, or too stubborn, to walk away from the fight, and army units still chasing me, although those have left me along since entering the Anounga District.

The unknown sickness permeating the district serves as a better ??dissuader(need better term)?? than any injury I caused them. I am immune to sickness; I was made to be so. The demon essence in me can fight any sickness except those created to target demons.

I have fought creatures of the wild that challenged me, the demon part of me needs the hunt to feed, it needs a challenging hunt for the feeding to be effective. And I enjoy hunting. Pitting myself against the cunning of the creatures living in the ever-dwindling wilderness. I have been injured, sometimes gravely, but never before now did I worry I might be the meal.

I push myself; I ignore the pain of the cuts I received the few times I attempted to bring it down, if I don’t die, they will heal. Its hide is its biggest defense; those claws the deadliest offense. It doesn’t have a demon’s ability to reshape its body, but the way its hide can move over itself combined with how resilient it is means the only serious injuries I can cause it are stabs; but each time it managed to turn, so they weren’t fatal. Its claws can cut through my black skin, meaning that even when I expand it over my torso, it isn’t as effective as I am used to.

The burn of that first cut, when I didn’t know it was stalking me, as the claw dug in my unprotected back serves as a reminder that for the first time in a long time, my opponent has the upper hand. This is its world, it has lived here; it knows the landscape, while I am simply traveling through toward whatever lies ahead of me.

I look over my shoulder as I change direction again. I don’t see it, not even its body heat. Demons can adjust their body heat to match their surrounding, a form of camouflage, but it isn’t instantaneous, any motion reveals them. This creature’s heat remains hidden from my sight even as it runs.

I hear running water, smell it. Maybe it cannot cross water. Many of the creatures of this world have odd quirks of behavior. Demons feed off the hunt itself almost more than the meat they’ll eat at the end. A creature I encountered months ago is terrified of touching the ground, jumping and gliding from tree to tree. If it misses its target and touches the ground, the terror can kill it before it makes it to a tree to climb it. If this creature is afraid of water, I may have time to rest.

The trees part and I nearly stop in surprise, but the creature lands behind me and I throw myself down, ignore the pain as I roll to my feet, and look for another escape. The water will not be my savior.

I can jump far. With enough of a running distance I can easily leap hundreds of feet, but what I expected to be a creek is a river easily twice the maximum distance I have ever jumped. I cannot even attempt it. Landing in the water will be as much of a death sentence as one at the creature’s claws.

I look human. The man I was before I was injected with the demon essence was human, but that essence changed me beyond erasing that man. I am denser than humans, my muscles, my bones. Jason explained it was how I was so much stronger and how I could survive using that strength. It also means my buoyancy is none existent. Even if the man I was before knew how to swim, and I had retained that knowledge. It is now impossible for me to remain at the surface of any body of water.

I am not afraid of water, but I respect how deadly it is to me.

I turn to face my opponent; the blade extending from my hand shifting to gain a jagged edge as it responds to my fear. My black skin obeys me, I can will it to shift to cover almost half my body now, but below my will, it is linked to my emotions, as much of a reminder as it is I am no longer as cold and calculating as I once thought I had been made to be, this emotional instinct has saved me too often for me to still hate how it will behave without my conscious thought.

The creature is three times as long as I am tall. More lanky than bulky, but under the mobile skin muscles move. It has strength along with agility. It paces sideways, studying me. Its eyes a black, with the glint of red that seems to be standard to most creatures on this world. This is the first time I can look it over. The brown hide’s texture shifts as it moves, and I notice it resembles the bark of trees at times. Not only does it have thermal camouflage, it has a visual version too.

I turn so I continue facing it. I cannot afford for it to strike my back again. Training and reflexes are what saved me from a cut spine that first time. I attempt a feint and break off when it doesn’t react to it. Does it have senses I don’t? Can it tell my intent? If it can, it doesn’t always work, otherwise, I wouldn’t have escaped it this long.

Its hind legs bunching is the only warning I get, and I throw myself to the side as it jumps. One of them lashes out sideways to catch me in the side, its claws dig deep despite my black skin. I crash, get to my feet as quickly as I can with the strength I have left. That move was new. I did not know its joints could move that way.

I cannot survive this tactic of trying to avoid being hit, of only scoring glancing blows. I am bleeding more than it is, and it has more of it, based on its size.

I calm my breathing as it turns to face me again. I do not see the intelligence in its eyes I can now see in demons who are old enough, but I see its cunning. It knows this is my last chance. It growls in anticipation as I level my gaze on it. My blade adds more jagged shards to its edge as the creature bunches together in preparation.

I stand, waiting. If this is where I die, it has been a good fight.

It bounds, lands halfway to me, and jumps, jaws apart, showing large teeth. Paws forward, long brown claws extended. I stab up into its chest as it lands on me, its mass throwing me to the ground, teeth biting in my shoulder.

I wait as wetness drips over the hand in its chest. I wait for it to bite deeper and rip my shoulder out, for the claws to rake at my body. For it to being this fight to its end.

It doesn’t move, and I smile.

This was a good hunt. I am curious if I will feel as satisfied when I eat it, having been the one hunted as I do when I do the hunting. I will find out soon, I think, as exhaustion begins to pull at me.

Does it have a soul stone? I wonder. Do I? The thought floats up as it sometimes does. I will never know if I do, but I will look for one in it. After I have eaten, but first, I need to rest, I decide, my vision clouding over. Only a small rest, and then I will eat.

Only a small…