"Some songs aren't meant to be sung. They're meant to kill."
---
Selene returned with twenty-three children.
Scarred. Weak. But alive.
As she led them into the Hollow's sanctuary, wolves knelt. Not out of ceremony—
But shock.
They saw her not as a rebel now…
But as a beacon.
And the Devil Alpha saw her as a threat.
So he unleashed his next horror.
---
It began at dusk.
A haunting harmony echoing through the valleys. No instruments. No drums. Only voices.
But they weren't voices of the living.
They were wolves who had died screaming.
> The Choir of the Damned.
They didn't walk.
They floated.
Throats torn open. Eyes glowing red. Their howls didn't echo—they crawled into your skull.
One patrol vanished.
Then two.
Then five warriors were found—hearts burst. Ears bleeding. Clawed themselves to death trying to escape the song.
---
Selene volunteered to investigate.
She went with the alchemist and the mute again.
They reached the forest edge by midnight.
The song came again.
But Selene… didn't flinch.
The Ghostfire pulsed in her veins. Her blood was louder.
They pushed forward—until they saw the source.
A circle of corpses.
Dead wolves, sewn together with sinew and shadow magic, mouths forced open in permanent screams.
In the center?
A Blood Priestess.
Eyes blind. Fingers red. Chanting in a tongue older than stars.
Selene whispered, "She's binding the song to their bones."
---
The alchemist prepped a fire flask.
But before she could throw—
The priestess turned her head sharply.
> "Hollow Moon," she hissed. "Born of betrayal. Your song ends here."
The corpses surged to life.
---
A fight exploded.
Selene lunged forward, claws glowing with silver fire. She decapitated one corpse—but two more replaced it.
The mute spun his twin daggers—each etched with runes—and sliced through a throat, a tendon, an eye.
The alchemist hurled a flask—BOOM!
Flames danced.
Still, the song persisted.
Selene gritted her teeth. The voices started getting into her head.
> "You will never be strong enough."
"You should've died with them."
"You are alone."
She dropped to one knee, clutching her head.
Blood trickled from her ears.
Then—
She remembered her mother's kiss.
The tomb.
The Ghostfire.
The Howl that broke silence.
---
Selene opened her mouth—
And sang back.
Not a melody.
A howl.
Low. Deep. Ancient.
It cracked the sky.
The corpses staggered.
The priestess screamed.
Selene rose, eyes blazing white-blue, and rushed her.
Tackled her to the ground.
Clawed straight into her chest and ripped out the black, glowing organ feeding the choir.
The song died instantly.
The corpses dropped like puppets.
Only silence remained.
---
As Selene stood panting over the dead priestess, the alchemist walked up, blinking at the mess.
"Well," she muttered, "that's the most metal thing I've seen all year."
The mute carved one word into the dirt:
QUEEN.
Selene didn't smile.
She turned to the west.
To the Devil Alpha's direction.
And whispered—
"I'm coming for your throat."