Varia

As Kain prepared to snap back at Doc’s latest comment, he stood in the dim alley, the cold night air filled with the fading remnants of his battle. The only reminder left of the female wendigo was the dark blood seeping into the cracks of the pavement. He took a deep breath, the adrenaline still pulsing through his veins,

He turned, instinctively readying himself, but relaxed slightly when he saw the woman from earlier—the one he had saved from the male wendigo. She stood at the mouth of the alley, her face pale, a mixture of fear, grief, and something else—perhaps hope—etched into her expression.

“I thought I told you to get out of here,” he said, his voice rough, tinged with irritation that masked his concern.

Doc’s voice slipped into his thoughts, dripping with sarcasm, “Looks like you’ve got your hands full, kid. Guess that’s the price of being the hero, huh? They just can’t stay away.”

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the body of the female wendigo. Her lips trembled, and she drew her coat tighter around herself, as if it could protect her from the sight before her.

“I couldn’t just leave,” she whispered finally. “My husband… he’s…” Her voice caught, and she swallowed, struggling to steady herself. “He ran ahead to draw those… things away from me. He told me to go. Only one chased me though... I had hoped he made it. I hoped…”

Kain’s jaw clenched as understanding dawned. He had seen the female wendigo savaging someone earlier, but he hadn’t reached them in time. He glanced down, a faint pang of guilt tightening his chest at what he had done.

“She wants answers,” Doc’s voice sneered in his mind, the tone cold and calculating. “What will you say, Kain? That you’re sorry? That you tried? That you had no choice? Excuses won’t bring him back.”

Ignoring the voice, Kain met her gaze. “I’m… I didn’t get there in time,” he said, the words feeling heavy, hollow. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save him.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for a moment, she looked away, staring into the darkness beyond the alley as if she could will her husband back through sheer hope. “I knew it might happen,” she murmured, almost to herself. “He always put himself on the line for others. It was how we met. I just… I thought we’d have more time.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken grief. Kain could feel it pressing down on them both, a reminder of the harsh reality that came with his newfound powers. This world of monsters and shadows demanded sacrifices, and more often than not, they came from those who didn’t deserve it.

“She’s a liability,” Doc’s voice returned, cold and dismissive. “What are you going to do, play the hero and hold her hand? You don’t have time for this.”

Kain’s fists clenched, forcing back the instinct to reject Doc’s words outright, but a part of him knew the truth in them. He couldn’t afford to be weighed down by guilt, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone, either. He had already seen what this world did to people who had no one left to turn to.

She looked back at him, a glimmer of something fierce shining through her sorrow. “Thank you,” she said, her voice stronger than before. “For trying. For saving me, at least.”

He nodded, unsure of what to say. “It’s not enough,” he replied quietly, almost to himself. “But I couldn’t just let them…” His voice trailed off, frustration and regret mingling in his chest.

She took a step closer, her eyes steady on his. “There are more of those things, aren’t there?” She sounded certain, as if she had already made up her mind. “I want to help.”

Kain’s eyes narrowed, surprised by the resolve in her gaze. “This isn’t your fight. You’ve already lost enough tonight.”

“And that’s why I can’t just walk away,” she countered, her tone fierce. “If there are others like you out there, trying to stop these things, then you need people who understand what’s at stake. I don’t have much to give, but I’m not about to let my husband’s death mean nothing. Let me help.”

He hesitated, feeling the weight of her words and the conviction behind them. Doc’s voice drifted through his mind again, this time with a hint of grudging respect.

“She’s braver than most,” Doc mused, a hint of sardonic admiration in his voice. “Still, you’re only taking on another burden. She’s no match for what’s coming, and you know it.”

Kain’s jaw tightened, Doc’s words sinking in. As much as he respected her determination, he knew she was out of her depth. The things he would face next would tear her apart, just as they had done to her husband. He couldn’t afford to have another person depending on him, not if it meant risking her life.

Turning to face her, he felt a surge of power coil within him, a dark whisper urging him to show her exactly what she was asking to be a part of. He let the energy build, allowing the monstrous side he had absorbed to rise to the surface, feeding off the remnants of the wendigo’s essence that still lingered in his veins.

“You really want to help?” he asked, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. He stepped forward, his eyes glinting with a predatory light. “Then look at what you’re dealing with.”

As he spoke, his body began to shift. His muscles twisted and expanded, sinew stretching beneath his skin, which took on a darkened, almost scaled texture. His fingers elongated, each tipped with sharp, claw-like talons, and his mouth stretched into a grotesque grin, revealing a set of jagged teeth that were sharper than any human’s should be. His eyes glowed with a fierce, unnatural light, radiating both power and menace.

The woman gasped, instinctively taking a step back, horror and disbelief etched across her face. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trembling as she stared at the monstrous form standing before her—a form that seemed only a breath away from the creatures she had just escaped.

“This is what you’d be dealing with,” Kain snarled, his voice a low, guttural rumble that barely sounded human. “This is what I’ve become. And this is what you’d face if you stayed. Do you really want to throw yourself into a world where things like this are the least of your worries?”

Her eyes widened, tears brimming as she struggled to process what she was seeing. “But… I thought you were… you saved me…”

He took a step closer, looming over her, his monstrous form casting a shadow that swallowed the dim light of the alley. “Saving you was a mistake,” he hissed. “I’m not a hero. I’m a predator. A devourer. I do what needs to be done, no matter what it costs.”

She took another step back, shaking her head as if trying to shake off a nightmare. “No, I… I didn’t realize…” Her voice cracked, and she turned, stumbling away from him, her hurried footsteps echoing off the alley walls.

Kain watched her go, his heart pounding as he forced himself back into his human form. The power receded, his muscles returning to their normal shape, the claws shrinking back into fingers. A flicker of something—regret, perhaps—flashed through him, but he pushed it down. He knew he had to let her go, to drive her off before she could get any closer to this world and its horrors.

“Nicely done,” Doc remarked with a chuckle, his tone smug. “You showed her exactly what she needed to see. People like her have no place in this world. Better she’s scared now than dead later.”

Kain said nothing, feeling the weight of Doc’s words settle over him. He knew, deep down, that Doc was right. This world of monsters and shadows demanded sacrifices, demanded ruthlessness. He had chosen this path, and now, he would walk it alone.

With a final glance down the empty alley, Kain turned and melted into the darkness, the echoes of the woman’s fading footsteps lingering in his mind.

The adrenaline from the fight was fading, replaced by a hollow ache gnawing at Kain’s stomach. He made his way back to his bike, parked just outside the alley. The air was still and cold, the quiet that follows violence settling over him like a thick fog. He swung a leg over the bike, slipping his helmet on, and started the engine with a low rumble.

As he pulled out onto the street, his stomach let out a growl that echoed the hunger simmering just beneath his skin. He hadn’t fed since the battle, and while the energy from the wendigos lingered, it wasn’t enough to stave off the deeper, more human hunger gnawing at him. His eyes flickered over the empty storefronts and cracked sidewalks as he made his way east.

A familiar neon sign caught his eye, its faded glow barely illuminating the street: Raul’s Burgers. The sight stopped him for a second, pulling him back to memories of afternoons from his childhood, running over from the schoolyard with a few crumpled bills in his pocket, and devouring greasy burgers with friends. The place was a near-perfect mimic of how it looked back then, from the red booths to the checkered floor, seeming to have stayed frozen in time but Raul’s always had a charm all its own. He had practically lived there during his elementary school years.

Kain’s stomach growled again, more insistently this time, as he rolled past Raul’s Burgers. He couldn’t help but slow down, the glowing neon sign casting a warm red hue over the cracked pavement. The smell of fried food and grilled meat hit him, and before he knew it, he was pulling into the small lot, parking his bike near the door.

He walked inside, the familiar layout of booths and stools just as he remembered. The place was almost empty, save for a couple of late-night regulars hunched over their meals. He made his way to the counter, glancing up at the old menu board. It hadn’t changed in years.

“What’ll it be?” the cashier asked, barely looking up from a worn magazine.

“Chili cheese fries, with bacon hold the onions” Kain replied. He hadn’t had them in ages, but the thought of that messy, cheesy comfort food was too tempting to resist.

The cashier nodded, punching the order in. Kain leaned on the counter, letting his gaze wander around the place. Raul’s was a relic, and in some ways, so was he—caught between who he used to be and what he had become.

A song drifted from the old speakers mounted in the corners of the restaurant. It was familiar—the gritty chords, the crashing drums. the sound of a familiar song hit his ears. It took him a moment to place it, and then the memory clicked into place: Ember Arc—the punk rock band he’d blasted on his old stereo in high school. He hadn’t heard their music in years, but he recognized it instantly, the rough, wild energy of the guitars, and then the unmistakable voice of the lead singer, Janelle.

She had always been a force, even back then. He remembered going to one of their underground shows, packed into a sweaty basement with too many bodies, all of them moving to the same beat. Janelle had a way of owning the stage, her voice raw and full of defiance, every line dripping with attitude. He could still picture her, jet-black hair and ripped jeans, sneering at the world through a haze of smoke and flashing lights.

The lyrics crackled through the air, each beat and chord thumping in time with the rythm of his heart. The song—a chaotic, rebellious anthem about burning down the expectations people set for you—felt more relevant than ever. As the song reached its crescendo, Kain found himself tapping his fingers against his thigh in time with the insturments, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth

The pull of nostalgia hit him hard, a reminder of a life that seemed like it belonged to someone else, someone who wasn’t tangled up in dark powers and a world of monsters.

"Gald you made it." Kain softly whispered

“Burn down the walls they built around you,

Break through the lies, don’t let them drown you…”

His smirk widened a little, his fingers picking up in intensity on the counter in time with every beat. The song thudded on, the energy palpable even through the tinny speakers. Kain mouthed a few of the words under his breath, memories of Janelle’s wild performances flooding back, moments that felt like they belonged to someone else now. He could almost imagine her on stage, eyes blazing, singing as if every word was a challenge to the world itself.

The song faded, and the DJ’s voice crackled through the speakers. “That was Ember Arc, folks, with their latest track from the debut album Ashes and Arcadia, out now. This is Janelle’s first major release, and it’s already making waves. Stay tuned for more tracks coming up tonight.”

The album announcement barely registered, though. Kain’s order arrived with a clatter, and he slid into one of the booths, pulling the tray close. The chili cheese fries were exactly as he remembered—overloaded with cheese and Bacon smothered in thick, spicy chili. He took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors, letting himself enjoy this small slice of normalcy. It was strange how a taste, a song, a memory could make him feel like he hadn’t changed, like he was still the guy who’d blast music on his way home from school, dreams far less complicated.

But as he ate, he felt the lingering pulse of something darker beneath his skin, a reminder of the things he’d faced tonight. The food satisfied his hunger on one level, but he knew it wasn’t enough. That other hunger—the one that stirred restlessly within him—would return, and next time, it would demand more than just fries and nostalgia.

With a sigh, he finished off the last of his meal, wiped his hands, and tossed the tray back on the counter. He gave Raul’s one last look, letting the warmth and familiarity sink in, before heading back out to his bike. The night was heavy with the smell of rain and the quiet hum of the city, and as he stood at the doorway, the last line of Ember Arc’s song echoed in his mind.

The world beyond Raul’s waited, and he knew it was time to dive back into the shadows that called to him.