Beast slipped from the dining hall without a word. A single look at Slayer was all he needed to let it be known that he was gone.
Beast was not merely a creature—he was an omen carved into living flesh. His presence commanded awe and terror in equal measure, a paradox of monstrous beauty that ensnared the mind. Those who dared to look upon him found themselves caught in a silent trance, as if some ancient instinct whispered that they were standing before something far beyond mortal understanding.
In his presence, fear did not rise—it rooted. A suffocating stillness would seize the body, locking joints and breath alike. His towering wolf-like upper half rippled with brutal muscle, every movement a reminder of the raw, unrestrained power coiled beneath his hide. But it was his lower half—scaled, reptilian, and marked with swirling, hypnotic patterns—that set him apart from every other Howler. The designs shimmered like shifting illusions, as though the scales held a reflective glow that captivated your eyes in any angle.
It was no mystery why he reigned as the most feared and revered among all Kamaira, across both clans. Power radiated from him in a way that needed no declaration. Respect was not requested—it was extracted.
His wings, vast and bat-like, Their ashy grey hue blended seamlessly with the wolf and reptile that shaped him, completing a form that looked less created and more summoned—as if the darkness itself had sculpted him to be its perfect nightmare.
He hated knowing Sinyster walked the palace halls—Slayer's little sister, who was accompaning Lord Vishious. She smelled of bait to him, a deliberate distraction, a decoy meant to fool Slayer and possibly pry open the Kamaira defenses in Damns Hollow. He trusted no one who could be used that way.
To Beast, Sinyster was nothing but a liability: a live fuse waiting to singe them all. Of all the siblings, she was the most problematic—chaos and confusion, wrapped in a naive smile—and Beast, the only one in Damns Hollow who had met all 3 siblings, knew it like a scar.
Beast looked down at the scars that littered his torso and the scar that went down is entire right eye, he knew better than any just how quickly Sinyster could turn from being naive and seemingly helpless, to deadly and uncontrollable.
Beast's snout curled up to show his two rows of razor sharp teeth, as the sound of his claws scratched the stone floor as he walked down the corridor until he came to stand at the end, standing in front a tomb shaped window. He reached up and unlocked the latch so that the window opened up down the middle and swung open. He stepped on the high stone railing and unclasped his massive bat-like wings from under the nape of his neck,to have them fan out behind him.
He looked down at the valley of Damns Hollow that laid stretched out at the base of the mountain that the palace was built on. The wind blew Beasts beautiful black fur, that made even the night sky look dull in comparison.
A low deadly growl escaped his lungs before he jumped off the railing, to corkscrew down head first. Watching as the tree tops quickly started getting closer and closer. Before he opened up his massive wings and pulled himself up to glide just above the tops of the trees.
Beast had went to Slayers study earlier that day to discuss the situation with Lord Vishious, wanting to know if it was known yet, what it was that Lord Vishious had decided concerning the killing of his Shadower General eighteen years ago. It was then that he had come to find out that the one who had accompanied Lord Vishious was none other than Slayer's little sister, Sinyster.
He had thought that he had sensed a aura that seemed vaguely familiar when he had been training with Malice, but it had disappeared too quickly for him to figure out where he had known that aura before and to what it belonged to.
Upon hearing Sinyster's name he realized immediately that it was her aura that he had sensed for only a very brief second and it wasn't her normal aura but the aura of her Merwitch form. Beast was certain of it.
The Time when he had met Sinyster in her Merwitch form came to his mind,
†*************
Beast stood facing the waters where hundreds of dark, dull colored merpeople had swam up to the shoreline just staying right at the oceans edge. Their upper bodies were a greyish-green and their tails looked to be black with grey, their eyes were fogged over and all of them had the look of madness and hate on their faces. Showing their jagged, uneven teeth as they floated there in the waters.
"What are you thinking about, Brother?", Sinyster asked. She was suddenly right behind him and Slayer.
"Was it you who killed your own people?" Slayer asked, getting right to the point. Beast kept looking back at the shoreline to make sure that the dead merpeople were still in the water and wasn't creeping up on them. When he heard Sinyster giggle before she answered what Slayer had just asked her.
"My people aren't dead. Not anymore." Sinyster said in amusing, evil tone. "And not ALL my people were fated to become my undead army," Her eyes then shifted to look at Beast who had accompanied her brother here. Looking him slowly up and down, not ever seeing a creature like this before. A wicked smile pulled up from her lips, she turned her body slightly to face Beast a little more. She then said, "And what do we have here? I have never seen anything like you before?" Sinyster asked in a very curious tone.
Beast glared down at her and his snout raised up to show his two rows of razor sharp teeth. He didn't try to hide his cruel nature from her. Her being Slayers little sister meant nothing to him and it was only because of her not coming at them, that he had not attacked her.
Slayer glanced at Beast from the corner of his eye before he decided to answer Sinyster's question, " this is my commander, Beast. He's a Kamaira that belongs to Deathly Hollow," the way he spoke left no doubt that it would be a mistake if Sinyster dared to try anything.
"He's impressive, no doubt about that," the clear awe evident in her voice as she couldn't stop staring at the creature that stood towering over her. "Is he unable to speak?" She asked.
"I don't speak unnecessarily, especially to creatures that are beneath me" Beast growled out venomously. His tongue coming out to lick his lips after he was done talking.
"Well, well I must say that you are becoming quite worthy of joining "My People", I promise it won't hurt," Sinyster spoke in a low tone.
She then smiled to show her pointed sharp fangs. Her snake-like tongue coming out as if eager to taste Beast's blood, she took a step towards him and Beast growled, bringing his clawed hand up to rip her apart if she took another step. But, before anything went any further Slayer warned her,
"I hope even in your Merwitch form you have the common sense to know not to cross me and do something stupid?" Slayer's voice was void of any emotion and his eyes showed the murderous promise.
Sinyster slowly turned her head to look at Slayer before turning her body only half way to face him. Her dark purple eyes now had slits in them, anger now marred her face. Slayers brows drew together as he stared at the Merwitch before him.
The sun was beginning to fade and it's colors bled on the ocean sand they were on. With beautiful red, orangish-gold hues that started to become darker. The tide started to rise, almost as if it were reaching for Sinyster
"Night is approaching much faster than I would like it to," Sinyster hissed, letting the irritation drip like venom as she spoke. She then slowly started to walk towards the water.
"Why does nightfall bother you?" Slayer asked with furrowed eyebrows, though he already suspected the answer.
Before she could answer, Beast didn't hide the mockery in his tone as he growled "Because it would seem she can't keep her feet on land after dark. Water's the only place she has any real power. Am I right?"
Sinyster smiled. Not warm. Not amused. A smile like a blade sliding free.
"You think you know my limits."
She touched the water. It didn't ripple—it recoiled, then convulsed, as if something massive exhaled beneath the surface.
That's when the dead Merpeople who had just been staying afloat right offshore, at the waters edge....rose.
Hands surfaced first—bloated, split open, fingers bent backward like broken twigs. Then faces emerged, skin sloughing off in sheets, jaws unhinged too wide, teeth sharpened by decay. Their eyes were milky and bulging, some hanging loose from their sockets by strands of sinew. Their bodies dragged up from the waters—spines exposed, ribs cracked open like cages, sea creatures writhing inside the cavities.
Some had no legs at all—just long ropes of cartilage trailing behind them. Others crawled on elbows because their fish tail lower halves had rotted away entirely.
They didn't moan.
They didn't cry.
They clicked—wet, insect-like, clearly hungry for the living.
Slayer didn't flinch. Beast didn't step back. They watched the horrors rise with the same anticipation a predator feels before a feast.
Sinyster's voice was a whisper of wickedness. "My people. My dead. My army."
Beast stepped forward, anger flaring. "You use the dead—your own kind."
"I use what is mine," she said. "And tonight, they will feed."Then the change took her.
Her legs snapped backward with a sickening crack, bones dissolving into black coils. Two massive serpent tails unfurled from her hips, each one thick as a tree trunk, each lined with jagged barbs running down the center like a saw meant for flesh. Her skin darkened to abyssal black, scales rippling outward. Her hair writhed—strands splitting into serpents, their eyes glowing, their tongues tasting the air for blood.
She became what the deep had always intended—
a true Merwitch, born of hunger and ruin.
Slayer's hand went to his blade. Beast's claws flexed. Neither moved back. Neither feared her. If anything, they looked eager.
Sinyster slithered into the water, her twin tails slicing through the surface like blades. The waters trembled. The drowned Merfolk surged forward, forming a grotesque wall of rot and bone.
"Back," she warned, though she hoped they wouldn't listen. "Or they'll drag you under."
Slayer smirked. "Let them try."
Beast cracked his neck. "I've been waiting to kill something ugly."
Sinyster's smile widened, monstrous and beautiful. "Then let the tide decide."
She dove beneath the surface, her serpentine tails whipping the water into a frenzy as she vanished into the black.
Slayer and Beast stepped forward in unison, eyes burning with anticipation. Welcoming the entertainment before them.
They weren't afraid of the dead.
They were ready to slaughter them.
And the dead Merpeople rushed to meet them.They surged from the ocean waters like a plague—limbs twisted, jaws unhinged, ribs cracked open like cages. Some dragged themselves by exposed spine, others slithered on cartilage ropes where their fishtails once were. Their mouths clicked that sounded like bones snapping underwater.
Slayer stepped forward first, blade drawn, his bright red blood eyes burning with demonic fire. Beast followed, cracking his neck, claws extending with a wet metallic scrape. He snarled showing his razor sharp teeth.
The dead rushed them.
Slayer moved like a storm. His blade carved through the first corpse, splitting its skull clean in half. Black water and writhing eels spilled out instead of brains. He didn't pause—he pivoted, slicing through another, severing its arms before driving his blade through its chest cavity.
Beast fought like he was, a creature born for carnage. He grabbed one dead Merman by the jaw and ripped its head clean off, spine trailing like a wet rope. Another lunged at him—he slammed his claws into its ribcage and tore it open, sending a spray of brine and rotted flesh across the sand.
The dead didn't scream.
They didn't bleed.
They just kept coming.
Slayer welcomed it.
Beast reveled in it.
A corpse with a split torso crawled toward Slayer, dragging itself by its elbows. He stomped its skull into the mud, grinding bone into paste. Beast tore through three at once, ripping limbs from sockets, snapping necks, crushing skulls under his heel.
The beach became a slaughterhouse.
And still the dead rose.
Slayer was becoming impatient with having to deal with these zombie merpeople yelled to Beast, "She's feeding them power."
Beast spat blood and rot. "Then we will have to take her down next," snarled Beast.
They didn't fear the dead.
They were demons.
They were built to destroy.
And they were just getting started.
The moment Sinyster slipped beneath the surface,
She felt powerful.
She felt infinite.
She felt hungry.
Her dead Merpeople swarmed around her, their bodies drifting like broken puppets. They bowed to her, their Queen.
Above, she felt the tremors of battle—Slayer's blade, Beast's claws, the dead being torn apart.
Good.
Let them exhaust themselves.
Let them drown in corpses.
She slithered through the dark water, silent as a shadow. She wanted that Kamaira that had accompanied Slayer. She was fascinated by the creature and craved to drink his blood and life force out of him. She wanted him to belong to her and she knew that that would only be possible by killing him. But she had to be able to get him in the water and away from Slayer.
She slowly swam to the surface, the night made it possible to be able to watch as Beast and Slayer fought her dead army. Keeping them distracted from paying attention or noticing her head emerging up out of the water. She waited, patiently watching the Kamaira and she very slowly went back under the water to swim very quietly and undetected, toward Beast.
She wanted to drag him under and to feel his lungs fill with water as he clawed at her. He had dared think of her as a creature who was beneath him in status, she would show him and he would regret his words he had spoken to her.
She rose from the water that was right behind him, silent, deadly. Her twin tails coiled, barbs gleaming. She aimed for his spine, ready to pierce, ready to drag him down—
And then everything went wrong.