Cereza watched in fear as Do'kir unleashed his frustration on the straw dummy in front of him. Normally, there would grace and control as he practiced his blade, but the way he was now? His feral eyes, his overgrown, disheveled fur, and how indiscernible his attacks were to a predator tearing apart prey made Cereza feel like she was watching a rabid beast.
The cat felt like a skooma-addict who hadn't had his fix in months. He had the constant urge to move around, even when he tries sitting completely still he'd end up shivering like mad. Then there was that accursed itch, like needles prickling his skin, that spread like wildfire across his body. It lied just beneath his fur and skin, fur and skin Do'kir was tempted multiple times to rip out to relieve himself of this terrible itch. Sleep was another problem. Every night as he lied in bed, he would toss and turn for hours, eventually stopping to gaze into the Twin Moons that shined out his window, enthralled by their light. The light brought out a voice within him, asking him why he would waste the night sleeping when he should be out there hunting, especially when there's a tasty, defenseless morsel nearby.
Finally, Do'kir paused to take deep, much-needed breaths. Cereza tugged his shirt. "Kitty, are you all right?"
"STAY BACK!" Do'kir roared and swatted the child's hand.
When the bloody haze lifted from his vision, his sanity returned, and his eyes widened in regret as he realized Cereza was clutching her injured hand and on the verge of breaking down to tears.
"Little One, I-I'm sorry… Khajiit did not mean to strike you…" he pleaded, kneeling and pulling her into a hug that Cereza thankfully accepted.
As they hugged, Do'kir's claws found their way to Cereza's neck, tracing the soft flesh. The feral glint in his eyes returned, mesmerized how easy it would be to sink his claws into this prey's flesh. Or better yet, have his teeth sink and rip into its neck so that he could savor the blood for himself.
NO! Do'kir mentally shouted as he wrestled back control of his mind, realizing his salivating maw was now only inches away from her throat.
He sobbed into Cereza's shoulder, horror and disgust a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.
Three years… three grueling years he spent honing his skills with a blade so that could protect his Little One from danger, only to become a danger himself, as if the Divines didn't think he had suffered enough and decided to make him the victim of this new sick joke. He desperately wanted to believe that the attack last week never happened, that it was all some wicked nightmare, but the bite mark etched into his shoulder never ceased its burning and continued to remind him of this cruel reality: he was a predator of the night… a beast… a monster.
A werewolf.
Do'kir lifted his head from her shoulder and stared at the sword lying on the grass next to him, its lustrous edge tempting him.
Do'kir shook his head, conflict warring in his eyes. He can't… not yet. What if another vicious beast crawled out of the forest? There would be no one around to protect Cereza. The Nord had once again had left before the attack doing Divines-know-what. Do'kir considered the Altmer teacher, but in his fractured and paranoid state of mind, the Khajiit couldn't trust a High Elf to take care of a Nord.
With a heavy sigh, Do'kir resolved to stay with her until her father returned, praying he would still be a Khajiit when the Nord arrives.
The agitation that gnawed him from within was growing stronger with each passing day. He felt like an explosive, flame rune, ready to set off at the slightest intrusion. The birds that chirped every morning amplified to monstrous roars in his oversensitive ears, and he struggled to restrain his fight-or-flight instincts. The gentle breeze that brushed against his fur now felt like frigid needles prickling through fur and into his skin. Each day more and more clumps of tangled fur was sprouting across his shaggy body like weeds due to his negligence. He was always too busy sitting in his bed, looking out the window and biting nervously into his claws. Sometimes, the cat bit into his claws so much that the tip would actually break off, but then it would quickly regrow the next day even sharper; it fed into Do'kir's stress and fear.
"Um… Kitty? Dinner's ready," a soft voice whispered behind him.
Do'kir's bloodshot eyes looked over his shoulder to see Cereza standing by the door, caution and fear in her eyes. He couldn't blame her. Who wouldn't be afraid of cat that looked like it was picked up from a garbage pile and shaking madly like a skooma-addict under his blanket. "No, thank you, Little One. Khajiit is not hungry." That was a lie. His stomach always felt like it was eating him from the inside and drool flowed out his salivating maw like an endless river. No matter how much he ate, it only fed his desire for MORE.
"Are you sure? I made your favorite: rabbit haunch."
She began walking to him.
Do'kir quickly looked away and buried his head into his knees. No no no no no, please stay away from Khajiit! He begged within his mind. Her soft footsteps sounded like deafening thunder that roared louder the closer she got. What should've been a comforting, small hand on his shoulder felt like a Warhammer slamming down him; he nearly jumped out of the blanket like a spring.
Cereza did not miss the way he flinched at her touch. "Kitty, do you hate me?"
His head snapped back up from his knees. He looked at Cereza, her eyes glistening with the beginning of tears. Do'kir desperately grasped for any words he could find in his stunned mind. "N-no! W-why would Do'kir… Khajiit would never…" came his jumbled mess of a reply
"You regret saving me that night, don't you?" she said in a weak whimper. "Ever since that night, you've been avoiding me. You don't hug me anymore. You don't look at me anymore. You don't kiss me goodnight on the forehead anymore. You don't even read me bedtime stories anymore." She has eyes glued to the floor, too ashamed to look at her guardian. Tears fall to the ground as she clutches the fabric over her chest tightly. "Maybe… maybe it would've been better if you just let me die…"
"No!" Do'kir cried, jolting Cereza out of her self-hate. He grabbed on to both her shoulders and, for the first time in a long time, looked straight into her eyes; fierce yellow eyes met glistening sapphires. "This Khajiit does not regret saving you, and he never will. Do'kir would rather suffer a thousand more curses before harm comes to his Little One!"
There was no point in holding back. Tears gushed out of Cereza's eyes as she jumped straight into Do'kir's arms for a tight embrace, something the Khajiit did not hesitate to give this time. She sobbed and cried into his chest, his fur in that area now drenched in tears. But he did not mind. His arms tightened around her. "Whenever Little One feels hopeless or lost, know that Do'kir will always be ready to give you a big hug."
He could not remember the rest of that night. He recalled the child going under the blankets so she can sit next to him. For once, the hunger, the urge to hunt, the instinct to kill, they were nothing more than annoying whispers in the back of his mind that the Khajiit easily ignored. They dozed off cuddling side-by-side with the light of the twin moons shining down upon them.
It was happening tonight. He could feel it! Do'kir gazed up towards the bright blue sky where the invisible twin moons rested. Even now, he could feel their light stir the Beast inside the cage that is his body. The Beast within was clawing apart its cage, causing phantom pain to surge across his body. When Cereza walked up to him, he felt the Beast throw itself against the cage trying to pounce on his prey.
"Little One," Do'kir said, his voice cracking. He gripped her wrists with shaky hands. His abnormally sharp claws dug into her frail skin, nearly drawing blood. Cereza bit her lip, fighting the urge to tell him to spare him any more stress. "Do'kir needs to leave you alone, just for tonight."
"Where are you going?" she asked.
Do'kir took a moment to question himself whether it was a good idea to admit the truth. "Khajiit is…. Khajiit is… He sighed and shook his head. "Do'kir is only going to forage more food tonight. When he comes back, he's going to make all your favorite food."
Cereza was skeptical. The fear and stress in his eyes told her a different story. But she nodded.
Later that day, just as the sun was about to set below the horizon, Do'kir was ready to set out into the forest with only the clothes on his back. Before he left, he gave Cereza a detailed set of instructions: lock the doors and never answer it no matter how much someone knocks; don't look out the windows; blow out all the candles; and hide under her blanket for the rest of the night. He gave her one last kiss on the forehead before he disappeared into the depths of the forest.
Do'kir didn't care about directions; he walked in a straight line, not caring about the plants and insects squashed under his feet. He just needed to get as far away from Cereza as possible. The higher the twin, full moons rose, the stronger the Beast grew. He kept mindlessly walking through the forest until he finally collapsed to his knees in the middle of a clearing, no longer able to withstand the pain wracking across his body. His breathing became erratic, growing heavier and deeper as his lungs expanded beyond its limits. He clutched his chest and rolled over to his back where the full, twin moons stared back at him. The full brunt of their light felt like it set his entire body ablaze, like they were trying to burn away his weak, feeble body to reveal the raging Beast inside
Do'kir screamed in pain as his body was wracked into violent seizures. It felt like molten, hot magma flowed through his veins! Muscles bulged and convulsed beneath his fur. Bones cracked and rearranged themselves. His arms and claws elongated, and he watched in horror as his legs twist and bend unnaturally into a digigrate position that was more suited for running on all fours like the feral creatures that roamed the forest; his feet mutated into animalistic paws complete with a set of razor-sharp claws that glinted dangerously under the moonlight.
A loud, sickening crunch of his bones forced Do'kir to flip over and bow to his elbows to the full moons. Their light fed the expanding muscles under his thickening hide, clothes ripped to shreds. His muzzle began to crack, and he looked down to see it lengthen and broaden before his eyes. Blood gushed out through his gums as his teeth grew and sharpened to tear through the toughest of prey.
Unimaginable pain ripped apart Do'kir's mind piece by piece throughout the transformation. Desperately, he tried to hold on to what little sanity he could. But the further the transformation progressed, the farther Do'kir's consciousness was dragged into the void of emptiness.
The final bone snapped into place. The creature that is Do'kir stood there, breathing deep and heavy. Its dark, crimson fur shimmered under the moonlight. It dug its claws into the ground, trying to get a feel for its new body.
But was this creature still Do'kir?
Finally, it opened its eyes. Intelligence, kindness, nothing that was Do'kir was left within those feral eyes; now, only the Beast remained. The Beast let out a terrible howl that echoed throughout the forest and let every animal know that they have become prey!
Because now, the Beast is on the hunt!
Cereza swallowed her fear. She stared into the forest that darkened the more the sun faded beneath the horizon. The question she asked herself: why was she doing this?
The object she held close to her chest reminded her of her mission. It was her guardian's sword, almost comically oversized compared to her tiny frame. She accepted the fact Do'kir will be furious with her, scold her and probably punish her with no sweets for a month. But when she saw his iron sword leaning against the chair, forgotten, she knew she had to return it. The forest was a dangerous place, especially at night without a weapon in hand. The same risk applied to her of course, but she reasoned that Do'kir couldn't have gone far given how much time elapsed since he left. He was probably nearby searching for mushrooms or picking berries off bushes.
As long as she returns before nightfall, she'll be safe.
Cereza took her first tentative steps into the woods. It was easy at first; almost mystical as the sun disappeared more and more silver beams of moonlight streamed through the forest leaves. There was enough light to illuminate his footsteps across the dirt path. But she noticed how it he kept walking in a straight line; never did he stop to walk over to the occasional mushrooms or berries along the path. And the farther she ventured, the more jumbled and uneven his footprints became, almost like he was dragging his legs along. Soon, she came across an open clearing where a familiar, red figure was sprawled on the ground.
She was about to run into the open moonlight, his name ready in her lips, but Do'kir's strangled cry of pain stole her breath away. She watched helplessly as his body was thrown into a state of violent spasms. It's like some invisible phantom was there, bludgeoning his body to unnaturally twist and contort. Cereza collapsed behind a tree, her guardian's sword forgotten in the grass and sobbing into her knees. She covered her ears, trying to endure his screams and sickening cracks of bone. When the sounds finally died down, she released her ears. All that was left was the heavy breathing of what must've been an enormous animal.
Mustering her courage, Cereza peeked behind the tree.
In Do'kir's place was a majestic creature. Its powerful muscles bulged under its dark, crimson fur. Its head resembled a mix between a lion and a wolf; a regal, orange lion's mane shimmered under the moonlight from its neck all the way down to its shoulders. Its muzzle was long like a wolf, but also broad like a lion, complete with a set of razor-sharp fangs that made Cereza feel that just by looking at them they were piercing into her skin.
Cereza was about to step into the clearing, but then the creature opened its eyes. The feral ferocity, the beastly urge to hunt, and the hungry desire to kill stopped Cereza in her tracks. The Beast unleashed bloodcurdling howl that chilled Cereza to the bone.
Finished with its grand entrance, the Beast began sniffing the air. Cereza's body froze. Breathing forgotten, she watched the Beast's nose edge closer and closer to her direction. The Beast stalked towards her hidden position on all fours. Every step was so slow it was agonizing, almost as if the Beast knew she was there and was taking sick delight in tormenting his prey.
Cereza dared not take another glance at the Beast, but in the corner of her eye she could see his snout come into view besides the tree. The snout stayed there to take a few more sniffs of the air. Without warning, the Beast bared its teeth, the scent of fear and prey stirring the hunger within. All it would take is one more step; one more step and the Beast will see his prey cowering behind the tree.
But then, another roar not originating from the Beast came from the opposite side of the clearing. The Beast withdrew his muzzle and ran back towards the clearing. The fear finally relinquished its chokehold on Cereza's throat, allowing her to cough and gasp to try to refill her lungs with precious oxygen.
With one last, deep breath, Cereza peeked over the tree.
A large troll nearly matching the Beast's size stood defiantly in the middle of the clearing. It seemed this troll had heard the Beast's howl and accepted his challenge. And it was a fearsome opponent indeed. Sharp, armored spikes protruded throughout various parts of its dirty and hairy body. Its three eyes were as dark as an empty void. With strong, long arms ending in a three-fingered hand with wickedly sharp claws, it pounded its chest and unleashed another beastly roar.
The Beast responded with a roar of his own. Slowly, he circled around the challenger, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
The troll grew impatient, and so, with a battle cry, it charged towards the Beast. It leaped high into the air and raised its arms above its head to form a single fist. With that height combined with the troll's enormous strength, that single blow will be more than enough to shatter the Beast's skull.
But the Beast proved too fast. At the last second, the Beast jumped away from the troll's fist. The ground trembled as the Earth cracked under the blow. Before the troll can even turn around, the Beast pounced on his prey. They crashed back down with the troll on its back and struggling against the Beast on top. It kicked the air and roared, but the Beast had a firm hold over both its arms and latched his claws deep into them, drawing blood. His foolish prey won't escape so easily. The Beast opened its maw, revealing rows of sharp teeth, glinting wickedly in the moonlight. He clamped them down on the troll's shoulder. The troll released an attempt of a threatening growl, but it sounded more like a pathetic whimper. With one strong tug, the Beast ripped away the troll's shoulder, blood arcing across the air.
The troll gave up showing its dominance. It was now crying and writhing uselessly against its restraints as the Beast swallowed the bloody flesh. Then, to its confusion, the Beast jumped off the troll. The troll quickly jumped to its feet. It put a hand on its injury; a huge portion of its shoulder now missing, bone and bleeding flesh exposed to the night. It turned and limped away, a feeble attempt to escape.
There was a flash of red in the corner of the troll's eyes, and soon it collapsed to its knees as new, agonizing pain surged across its body. The troll let out another pitiful cry when it realized its entire arm was missing! It looked behind him to see the Beast ripping out and consuming the flesh of his missing arm! When the arm was reduced to a bloodied bone, the Beast threw it away and focused intensely on the troll, not moving another inch from his spot.
The troll was confused. Why would the Beast not attack? It was only when the troll took another step and lost another piece of flesh did it realize: the Beast was playing with it! The Beast took sick delight in watching his prey's pitiful attempts to escape, and slowing rip them apart piece by piece until they were nothing more than a walking skeleton.
This went on for some time; troll would take a single step and the Beast would rip out and consume more its flesh as payment. The life in the troll's eyes faded, and finally fell to the ground, no longer moving. The Beast let out a displeased grunt, disappointed the game ended so early. He walked over to the corpse to finish his meal.
Cereza took this opportunity to escape. The Beast's loud, sloppy eating masked the sound of her tiny footsteps racing across the forest floor. She just had to get home! Just follow Do'kir's instructions she'll be safe! She kept running and running, lungs burning. The darkness stretched infinitely, and Cereza gave in to panic. She fell and sobbed into her knees within the vast darkness. She wished she had listened to Do'kir. She wished she was sleeping soundly in bed instead of crying in this empty void. But what she wished for most of all? She wished Do'kir was here to hold her in his arms and shield her from the bitter cold.
A low growl emerged within the darkness, putting a stop to her tears and breathing caught a to hitch. She looked in front of her to see the outlines of another creature. It was another troll. It was smaller than the last one, but more than capable of killing the small, frail child in front of it. It stalked towards her, its stench growing stronger and causing bile to rise within Cereza's throat. It raised its arms.
Cereza closed her eyes, readying herself for the impact that will end her life.
Suddenly, a vicious roar erupted behind her. Cereza felt the wind rush past her as a large figure pounced over her and crashed into the other troll. Darkness clouded her vision, but the troll's cries of pain and flesh being torn from bone were something her ears could never miss. The troll's struggles grew weaker and weaker, until only heavy breathing echoed throughout the darkness.
The dark clouds parted the moons, allowing their light to fill the forest once more.
Cereza had her breath stolen away once again. The moonlight granted the Beast an otherworldly, crimson glow, creating a mix of fear and awe within Cereza over his majesty.
A deadly growl left the Beast's maw, waking Cereza from her trance. The Beast's hungry drool dripped through bared fangs and its feral eyes were locked on to his newest prey. Cereza stood up, and the Beast crouched on all fours, ready to pounce.
Cereza was confused as to why he hadn't attacked yet. She was just a weak, frail child. Easy pickings for a large predator. Then she recalled the way the Beast toyed with the first troll; the wicked delight in the Beast's feral eyes as he ripped apart both flesh and hope of his prey piece by piece.
And now, the Beast planned to subject Cereza to the same torture.
Hot tears welled up in her eyes. Hopelessness and despair overwhelmed her as her spirit shattered. She sobbed into her hands. So this was it. This was how she was going to die: a miserable, stupid child tortured alone deep within this dark forest.
But what scared her the most was Do'kir. What would his reaction be when he reverts back and sees the terrible deed he's done? He would be locked in a perpetual state of depression. Never to smile… never to experience joy and love…
Cereza cursed her own life. It's her fault he's become a monster. If it weren't for her… if only she just let herself die that fateful night…
Whenever Little One feels hopeless or lost, know that Do'kir will always be ready to give you a big hug.
The entire time, the Beast contemplated which piece of flesh should he rip first. A leg? An arm? Maybe a bit of her shoulder? The Beast decided against this. This particular prey would die of blood loss long before he can have his fill of fun. Ultimately he decided one of his prey's delicate fingers would suffice. Perhaps take a small bite every five steps? And when he's eaten all ten, he'll be satisfied and proceed to enjoy the rest of his meal.
But of course, the game can only start when his prey runs.
The Beast's prey stood perfectly still, its sapphire eyes gazing straight into his feral, yellow orbs. Did it wish to challenge him like that first troll? He hoped not. It wouldn't be as fun with prey so small and weak.
The Beast's gaze hardened as his prey readied into a running stance. Which direction will she run, the Beast mused. To the left? To the right? Perhaps climb a tree? It didn't matter to him. The moment she turns away is the moment he strikes.
So, the Beast was completely stunned when it ran towards him.
"Kittyyyyyy!" it cried, tears running hot down its cheek. It buried itself into his neck, his mane becoming drenched in its tears. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" it sobbed, voice cracking with every word.
"It's my fault you're like this! It's my fault you became a monster! So… so just know… that if you kill me… I promise I won't hate you."
The Beast had enough of his prey's rambling. He threw it off his mane and it fell to the ground. The Beast growled at it, trying to nudge it up to continue the game. But it refused to stand. It kept looking at him with that pathetic, teary-eyed look.
Fine. The Beast lost his appetite for games.
He raised his arm, the shadows of his unsheathed claws enveloping its tiny form.
One swipe. One swipe is all it would take spill his prey's organs across the floor. Yet, for some reason, the Beast couldn't bring himself to do the deed. The way her tearful eyes conveyed to him her sadness… her loss of hope… it caused a strange sensation to surge within his chest. The Beast's raised arm was shaking, his breathing becoming too heavy to bear and his own tears forming in his feral eyes. Regret, despair, and the feeling of great loss swirling into a great storm within him. But why? What was such great a loss to cause him such deep despair and painful regret?
The Beast dropped his arm. Tears flowed freely from his eyes and fall to the floor. He couldn't handle it. All this regret… all this despair… it was ripping him apart and creating a form of pain he could not fathom.
His prey finally stood back up, but instead of running, she went straight back into hugging his mane. The Beast didn't push her away this time. It felt nice to be held like that. It eased his aching heart and gave him a relaxing sense of calm. She pulled away, and the Beast took that opportunity to gaze into her eyes. A different feeling fluttered in his chest: love. The instinct to hunt; the instinct to kill, it was all burned away and replaced by a new, more powerful instinct: the instinct to protect.
The Beast leaned forward to give her affectionate licks across her face, lapping away her stray tears.
"Stop, Kitty!" she giggled, trying to push his huge head away to no success. "Your whiskers still tickle!"
Kitty… that word was somehow familiar to the Beast. Ah yes, now he remembered! That's his name! And that also remind him: didn't he have a name for her? He contemplated over it. Her name had something to do with being small…
The Beast's eyes lit up when he remembered. The name he called her was Little Prey!
The Beast gave her one last sloppy kiss on the cheek, and Little Prey returned his affection with a scratch behind the ears. He purred softly and leaned his head closer to her touch.
The sudden snap of twig hidden deep within the woods broke the peaceful moment. The Beast's eyes hardened. He raised his head and sniffed the air. It was dangerous for Little Prey to stay here any longer. It was too open, and there were too many predators that roamed these forests.
Carefully, he picked up Little Prey in his clawed hand and set her on his back. With Little Prey having a firm grip on his mane, he sped through the forest searching for a safe spot to rest. He almost missed it, but shrouded behind a large pile of bushes was a small cave. He ventured inside it. It didn't go very deep and his head would bump the ceiling if he stood to full height on two legs. Perfect for one night of peaceful sleep.
Gently he set Little Prey down. He laid down and curled his large, fuzzy body around her to give as much of his warmth as possible. With such a warm, furry pillow at her side, Little Prey was soon fast asleep. The Beast chuckled and gave her one last lick on the cheek before laying his head down and closing his eyes.
Blissful dreams came easily that night.
When Cereza opened her eyes, she thought she'd wake up to a warm, furry pillow. Instead, she found herself in her own bed with the morning light streaming through her window. Was last night all a dream?
"Little One, Do'kir has prepared breakfast!" came the voice of her guardian from downstairs. She left her bed and rushed down the stairs. Waiting for her there was a familiar Khajiit, fully dressed in a cooking apron. The shivering, the clumpy fur, and bloodshot eyes were all gone.
"Morning, Kitty. How was foraging last night?"
Do'kir's eyes hardened into a disapproving scowl. "Khajiit is disappointed you didn't follow his instruction last night. He specifically said to stay in the house last night."
Cereza's sweet smile fell to a sad frown. Do'kir sighed. "But since Little One was not hurt, Do'kir is not too mad."
"Yeah, thanks, Kitty!" she cheered and ran over to Do'kir to give him a big hug.
Do'kir felt the air shift quickly behind him. By the Twin Moons, was his tail… wagging?
"But no sweets for you for a month," Do'kir added with a stern face.
"What!"
Author's Note: To be honest, it's getting harder to keep myself motivated to write stories with everything that's been going on. But at least I hope people like this chapter.