Chapter 4: A Beast in the Woods
The days in Gage Village had grown quieter, almost unnaturally so. Birds no longer sang in the morning, and the usual rustling of woodland creatures in the underbrush had gone still. At first, no one thought much of it. But then, the livestock began to vanish.
One goat. Then three chickens. A hunting dog. All gone without a trace—no blood, no struggle. Just missing.
"It's probably wolves," muttered one of the farmers. "Or bandits stealing what they can."
But the older villagers exchanged uneasy glances. This wasn't normal. Wolves left tracks. Bandits left signs. This was something else.
Kaze noticed it too. On the outskirts of the village, where he and Atlas often trained, the forest felt… different. The air was thicker, the shadows deeper. Even the wind didn't whistle through the trees the way it used to.
Atlas frowned one afternoon after practice, wiping sweat from his brow. "Something's off. I don't like how quiet it's gotten."
Kaze nodded. "I've been feeling it too. Like we're being watched."
The unease lingered for days, simmering just beneath the surface. Then came the night everything changed.
Five children disappeared.
All on the same evening. All from different homes. No signs of forced entry. No trails. Just vanished. Their names spread through the village like wildfire—Mira, Len, Tovi, Hale, and sweet little Nima.
Panic swept through Gage like a hurricane. Parents clutched their children close, torches were lit, and a search party scoured the forest until dawn. But the woods offered no answers. Only silence.
The next morning, a tense meeting was held in the village square. The Village Head, a stern woman named Elder Ronen, stood before the gathered crowd, her voice steady but grave.
"This is no ordinary predator," she declared. "And it is no accident. Until we understand what we're dealing with, no one leaves the village alone."
Despite the warning, Kaze found himself restless. He couldn't sleep, not with the screams of terrified parents echoing in his head. So that evening, under the guise of getting fresh air, he slipped out of the village gates and wandered into the woods alone.
He walked the path he and Atlas had taken dozens of times before. The wind stirred faintly around him, as if trying to offer comfort. The trees stood tall and dark, their leaves whispering secrets.
Then, he heard it.
A low growl. Wet, gurgling. Close.
Kaze froze. His breath hitched as something stepped into view just ahead—a creature hunched low to the ground, its body warped and unnatural. It was like a patchwork of different beasts sewn together: the hind legs of a wolf, the talons of a bird, and a grotesque, eyeless head that twitched as if smelling the air.
Its skin pulsed faintly with a green glow, veins visible beneath its surface. It was… wrong. No natural creature moved like that.
Kaze didn't wait. Instinct took over.
With a burst of wind, he launched himself backward just as the creature lunged. Its claws grazed his shoulder, ripping through his shirt. He hit the ground hard, pain blooming in his ribs, but he scrambled to his feet and ran.
Branches whipped past him. The beast gave chase, snarling, limbs crashing through the undergrowth. Kaze could barely think—he just pushed his magic to its limit, summoning gusts of wind to knock down obstacles behind him.
Finally, the village lights came into view. He sprinted toward them, lungs burning, heart hammering in his chest.
When he burst into the square, the sight before him made him stumble.
The villagers were gathered in a frenzy, shouting, crying, torches flaring. The parents of the missing children were weeping openly, voices hoarse from screaming their names into the forest.
Elder Ronen was trying to calm the crowd, but panic had taken hold.
Kaze forced his way through the throng. "There's something in the woods!" he gasped. "I saw it—it's not natural. It attacked me!"
All eyes turned to him. His torn clothes and bleeding shoulder spoke volumes.
"What did you see?" Ronen asked, her voice hard.
Kaze swallowed. "It wasn't an animal. It was something made—twisted. Like… an experiment."
A silence fell over the crowd.
Elder Ronen narrowed her eyes. "An experiment?"
"I don't know how to explain it," Kaze said. "But it wasn't born. It was built."
The villagers exchanged fearful glances. The word forbidden hung unspoken in the air.
Ronen's face darkened. "We'll double the watch. Nobody enters the woods without my approval. And you, Kaze—you rest. We'll need you sharp."
Kaze nodded weakly. Atlas appeared beside him, eyes wide with concern, and helped him to their home.
As the night stretched on, the village remained sleepless, the silence broken only by the occasional sob or muttered prayer. Somewhere, beyond the trees, the experiment beast waited—patient, intelligent, and hungry.