April 24, 1518
Kite sat perched on a thick branch of the tree where the pig was tied. The bark beneath him bore the deep cuts of preparation—half-severed, waiting. A lantern swung gently from a nearby branch, casting flickering light across the clearing.
He glanced at his pocket watch, its silver light reflecting in the dark.
Fifteen minutes before sunrise…
Kite gripped his machete tightly, his gaze fixed on the ground below. Vigilant. Quiet. Waiting.
---
Suddenly, the wind picked up. The lantern began to sway more violently. The pig, sensing danger, let out frantic squeals, jerking against the rope.
Kite narrowed his eyes. Then he felt it—an unfamiliar pressure, like something unnatural pressing down on his chest. Not fear of pain. Not fear of failure.
It was the fear of death.
The kind that whispers your name. The kind that grabs your lungs and forgets to let go.
His breath quickened. Cold sweat beaded on his brow.
Then—eyes.
A pair of glowing, soulless eyes emerged from the riverbank. Locked on the pig.
Kite froze.
The creature slithered silently from the water. Its lower half undulated like a serpent, its upper body twisted into a grotesque humanoid form.
From his angle, Kite couldn't see it clearly—but its size was unmistakable. At least five meters long, maybe more.
His hand trembled toward his spyglass—but stopped. He didn't need to see more.
He felt it.
That thing wasn't just a monster.
It was a nightmare.
Chu-Chu, sensing his paralysis, sank his tiny teeth into Kite's neck.
The pain snapped him back to reality.
"…Sorry," Kite whispered.
Squeak! Squeak!
He looked down again.
The pig was already in the monster's jaws.
But the creature didn't notice the ground it slithered onto was soaked—not with water, but kerosene.
A faint drizzle fell from above.
It looked up just as a silver lighter dropped toward its face.
Fsshh—WHOOM!
The fire ignited in an instant. Flames engulfed its body, catching the ground around it. It shrieked in rage and agony.
Aaaahhhh!
It whipped its head toward the river—trying to retreat.
"Going somewhere?"
The voice came from above.
The monster looked up—and saw a boy.
No more than ten. Small. Shaking.
But unbroken.
Tonight, the predator would become the prey.
Kite leapt down, heart pounding but eyes resolute. Adrenaline surged through his veins.
The burning creature lashed out with a fiery arm.
Kite ducked—and slashed.
His machete cleaved through the creature's limb.
It howled, rearing back in pain.
Kite didn't hesitate. He grabbed the hatchet still lodged in the tree trunk and brought it down, finishing the cut he started days ago.
CRACK—
The tree collapsed, crashing onto the creature's body.
Bones snapped beneath the weight. The flames consumed what was left.
Kite stared down at the smoking corpse.
And then—dawn broke.
The light bathed the scene in gold.
He was still shaking.
But as the first sun rays touched his face, Kite stood taller.
Scared.
But no longer powerless.