England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
Dyowl's Hollow - Woods of Dartmoor
5 November 1898, 10:41 pm

The monster shot towards him so quickly that he barely had time to pull the trigger. Although Ben's muscles had already been stretched to breaking point and all he had to do was crook his finger, it seemed like an eternity before the flash of light finally released the shot. There was a bang, the noise shattered the eerie silence and the bullet trailed a short tail of muzzle flash, smoke, and sparks.

The projectile pierced the billowing body, which moved with superhuman speed. The sinister shadow with glowing eyes shot through wisps of mist and darkness toward him. Benjamin leaped to the side and his legs flew across the leaf-strewn ground. Within a second, the hunter became the hunted.

He felt a blow narrowly miss him. The breeze brushed past his neck and shoulder and he pulled the trigger again. Clicking, the drum of his revolver spun and a new rumble echoed into the night. Ben saw the bullet enter the figure's shoulder. The force jerked the body sideways at an angle and pushed the monster back at least a little. Then Ben hooked it and charged toward the little girl. Behind him, earth and foliage swirled under his hurried steps. Just before he reached her, he heard a threatening sound of approaching leaves rustling and Ben drew his revolver forward again for a shot.

He aimed at the grimace covered with the skin of black leather, glowing eyes and a mouth full of fangs ripped open. The face was contorted into a single expression of bloodlust, gloating, and murder. Long claws stretched out towards him, ready to rip his throat apart and add a few more to the collection of bones in the caverns.

A drum of fire set quick drumbeats in the silence. Benjamin pulled the trigger. Again and again. Until the clack of the empty drum sounded and even then two or three more times. The beast roared with rage. A viscous mass oozed from the wounds, staining the formless body with a shiny liquid like oil, and then lost itself in the black swathes of shadow.

Immediately Ben's hand went to his side and reached for the small leather bag in which he kept the ammunition. Cold casings nestled in his fingers. They clicked dully as he slid them into the empty tubes with deft, quick grips and closed the drum again. Only when he had replenished the ammunition did his gaze dare to travel to the little girl.

Her expression was completely relaxed, a curl fell over the braid of scars on her face and her small lips were slightly parted. It was as if she hadn't even heard the deafening gunshots or the struggle around her. Benjamin's fingers jerked to the small neck. Relief flooded him: she was still breathing. Regularly and calmly. Her pulse beat steadily beneath the soft, thin skin, almost as if she had simply fallen asleep in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now a spiteful laugh came from the direction of his pursuer. He slid horizontally to the side with an unnatural leap. As if he had no legs to support him, it resembled the movement of a snake. "She won't wake up. Not if I don't want her to." sneered the hissing voice, "Her soul is mine!" Then it shot towards Benjamin again.

This time he was not fast enough. A loud scream escaped from his throat and went into the night. Thin black fingers with the strength of a strangler caught him and grabbed his arm: it first jerked him up so that he felt the tips of his shoes hanging over the forest floor and then smashed him to the ground again. All the air was forced out of his lungs and only by instinct did he not drop the revolver immediately. A larger stone had pressed into his side and his body complained noticeably under the sharp claws that had torn open his arm and flesh. The creature leaned so close that the sickening stench again assailed his senses.

It was a mixture of sulfur, pumice, and a musty smell. The scrawny lips pulled apart in a parody of a grin, once again exposing the yellowish teeth and blackish gums. Benjamin was so close now that he could see parts of the flesh and form of this figure loosening and simply shredding like ashes swept away by the wind. As if it were not yet quite so complete and its form not stable, swathes of hair, shoulders, face... kept detaching themselves. "I will crush your bones and feast on your flesh, stupid human." hissed the man in black, whose eyes were now little more than red slits.

Ben, despite all the pain, jerked his arm up in an attempt at a blow, but the claws of the beast gripped his wrist this time. Pleasurably sadistic, the creature's power squeezed harder. Ben could literally hear his bones groaning under the strain, it felt as if they would break at any moment.

Unexpectedly, the creature's head lunged forward like a serpent seeking its prey. Ben felt lurid pain stabbing him in the shoulder. The sharp fangs dug into his flesh and pierced skin and muscle like a freshly sharpened knife blade. Benjamin let out a shriek as he felt muscle and sinew tear in the two jaws pressing towards each other. Although black spots danced before his eyes at that moment, his survival instinct finally kicked in. Ben pulled his knee up with all his might and caught the beast full force in the side of the stomach.

The sharp teeth snapped open out of reflex and dislodged from his shoulder as Ben now pulled his other hand up. Something cracked under his fingers and in the rush of the fight, the soldier was not sure for a moment that it was not his hand whose knuckles cracked under the force of his blow in the attacker's face. But Ben landed a hit with full force, finally putting some distance between himself and the bastard, and now managed to pull his legs to him. The soles of his boots smeared brown mud on black swathes and the unreal fabric as Ben jerked against it - flinging the monster away from him.

Breathing heavily, Benjamin struggled to his feet and hastily put some distance between himself and his enemy. While he was already igniting the glowing muzzle flash of his revolver with one hand, he pressed the other onto his wound. Blood poured from between his fingers. It soaked his clothes, smeared scarlet on his skin, and made him dizzy with pain. He felt loose shreds of flesh, slick with blood and torn open by the sharp fangs. Threads of his clothing stretched and tattered because they had been torn open with the brute force of the attack and his resistance. But the adrenaline wiped away anything but the sheer will to survive again shortly afterward.

The doctor jumped over one of the fallen trees and crawled a little to the side. His shoulder sent nauseating pain through his body so that the color drained from his features and he shivered. Nevertheless, he pressed himself flat on the ground and pressed his legs across the foliage and forest floor until he was able to crouch behind a larger rock. Lichens with their spores gave off an intense smell and Benjamin smeared his red blood like an offering on the ancient stone as he leaned against it. Breathing heavily, he pressed his hand to the wound and squeezed his eyes shut.

He pleaded and prayed. Ben didn't know what to do, but it didn't matter, because he believed. Hot sparks poured into his fingers, warming them as if he held them under brilliant sunshine. It tingled and tickled. In his mind's eye, he saw the endless sands of the desert and heard the loud roar of the blazing hot wind in his ears. A voice sounded in the distance, but it was incomprehensible... even if he had been able to understand the language. So it slipped from his mind as quickly as a slippery fish.

Benjamin groaned as the searing pain in his shoulder eased a little. When he opened his eyes and was finally able to take a few pain-free breaths, he felt smooth skin under his fingertips. The blood was still warm, smeared, and sticky... but the wound was gone. He didn't have too much time to be happy about it, though.

"Your god can't save you here!" rumbled the piercing sound of deep coal pits of underground mines between the rows of trees.

"Let's take our chances." thought Benjamin, taking a deep breath before making sure his revolvers were both fully loaded and then pushing himself up a bit on the rock. Mud and wet dirt caked his clothes and clung to his skin.

As if cracks had opened in the ground, more mist now seemed to waft across the ground, making it difficult to keep track. Seeker squinted his eyes to make out something in the swathes. Then a large silhouette peeled out of the mist.

At first, Ben's heart stopped because he feared he was facing another beastly wolf. But it was worse than that. The creature possessed an oily, shimmering pelt. Several red dots sat as tiny eyes like those of an insect in the skull of the beast, whose curved claws dug into the ground. The face was squat and flat, long teeth protruding over the lower jaw like a crocodile's, dripping black drool to the ground.

Now he noticed that some parts of the fur shimmered like chitinous armor. A few elongated red feathers sprouted from the head and stretched across the back like a comb of scales, ending in the long, lizard-like tail that whipped wildly back and forth. The glow of feathers, also glowing in this form, cast a play of light on the creature's carapace, making it shimmer disgustingly like beetles from the undergrowth in shades of green and brown.

It took Ben a moment to realize that this monstrosity was the man with the red feather.

The creature fixed him with its dozens of flashing eyes. Ben's whole body froze. It felt like when he knelt over his dying comrade and faced the man who had killed him. For a second he was unable to move. A frosty breath of death breathed down his neck and he felt the presence of the Gevatters lurking for his opportunity. Benjamin's fingers twitched and moved to his chest as if drawn by an invisible force. To where the ancient Egyptian amulet rested beneath the layer of his blood-stained clothing.

The creature sprinted towards him. Paws drummed on the ground, and leaves and clods of dirt kicked up as the monster attacked him. Benjamin dived to the side and jerked the barrel towards the enemy. It dodged the first shot, and also the second leaped onto one of the rocks and launched a deadly attack.

Ben used a sudden burst of courage and death-defyingly went into a counter-attack. He leaped forward all at once, feinted an attack, and then abruptly pushed himself off a larger root to leap to the side. Leaves rustled loudly like clapping applause and Ben's coat swirled like a dancer's fluttering skirt. 

He pulled out the other revolver, took aim, and pulled the trigger.