On the outside, Michael looked like a stoic hunter covered in the blood and guts of his prey. He looked like a deranged psychopath listening to his instincts and inherent bloodlust. He looked like a sole survivor fighting till the end with all his vigor and resolve, refusing to give up no matter what the fallen gods threw at him.
On the inside, well... things were far from stable.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck.'
Michael counted three more figures in the distance, swiftly closing the - already - close distance. The fact he could even notice their presence in this thick, unyielding blizzard was a clear tell of their positions.
'What if there are more than three!?'
How was he supposed to kill three of them? Even if they were the same as the nightmare creature he just mauled, he was only able to do that through a surprise attack.
'I could run...'
He couldn't. The shards of ice flowing in the storm have relentlessly pierced him, spreading a deadly white frost across his body. The spread only stopped when he mauled the beast, back when his organs and body miraculously repaired themselves. That meant the only way to stop that frost from spreading was to consume more and more, until he ran out of things to eat. Michael didn't want to find out what would happen if that frost reaches his heart the hard way.
Even if he possibly managed to save his cursed fate by the skin of his teeth and ran away, the frost would kill him long before he could find shelter.
His only choice was to fight.
Yet he didn't accept that.
'How could I possibly fight a nightmare creature!?'
He was barely seventeen, a seventeen year old outskirts rat, at that! How could a mere boy slay nightmare creatures with no training or weapon memories? If there was, they must've been...
'...Really fucking lucky!'
Michael vividly felt his arms shake and legs buckle at just the thought of being torn up and ripped to shreds again... to face all that excruciating pain that shredded his mind for another time. He couldn't stop imagining his near future, his guts twisted and churned in abhorrent horror at just the thought of it.
What would he even do if he survived? If the beasts don't devour him, the frost would turn him into a statue long before he found shelter.
'No... I need to prioritize what's in front of me and focus. The future can wait till after I survive.'
The frightening nightmare creatures closed the distance, revealing their repulsive frames from the bitter embrace of the dim blizzard. Night was coming.
Michael steeled his nerves the best he could and attempted to focus, but his mind was clouded in flashing pain. The agony of having your insides ripped apart and regenerated was unimaginably traumatic, and the blistering torture of the numbing cold developing within his body was extremely paralyzing. Every movement he performed was sluggish, even when he pushed with all the pitiful might he could muster.
He positioned his trembling body into the most versatile and adaptable stance he envisioned and prepared his body. He raised his fists in front of his face and bent his knees, prepared to react to any attack. His blocking would do nothing to stop the sharp claws from slicing him, but that was the point.
His emerald eyes flashed in the stinging cold, piercing his pale skin and freezing his insides. His overgrown, brunette hair chaotically rippled with the violent flow of the deluge of snow. His arms stopped shaking and stood firm, but even he didn't know if it was from his foolish bravery, his instinctual acceptance of death, or because his blood and flesh froze.
The first beast was finally within dashing range. Looking at it now with coherent eyes, the nightmare creature was truly fearsome.
It was a hulking four legged beast that resembled a wolf, it's thick fur covered in scars and white snow. The horrifying maws were stained with splotches of black blood and the upper fangs hung outside... no wonder it could easily pierce his entire body like it was paper.
'...What is paper?'
Michael reaffirmed his mind and stance once he noticed the beast draw closer with daunting speed.
The wolf lunged and aimed it's intimidating claws at his chest, attempting to impale him to the ground. He grimaced and dodged, violently flinching when he felt a sharp pain in his side.
He bitterly endured the excruciating pain and pressed on. He hadn't read his runes, but he knew he could control his blood to some extent, what the extent was, he had no clue.
'No time like the present...'
Michael commanded his blood drenched on the creature's claw to move up the leg and into the mouth while he focused his eyes on the second beast rushing to him. The wolf lifted itself off the ground and leapt towards him.
He only had a split second to react, but he managed to quickly lower his body and swiftly dodged underneath the leap. He tried keeping his momentum, but he unexpectedly slipped on the snow and fell on his back.
As he stumbled onto his feet, he could sense his blood completely entering the first nightmare creature and move in it's body. He locked his emerald eyes onto the beast and saw it feebly stumble onto the ground, but not wriggle in pain.
'Fuck!'
It didn't writhe in agony from having it's insides toyed with because there simply wasn't enough of Michael's blood in it.
'Am I really forced to get mauled to survive!?'
Maybe that was his only choice, but he couldn't think much about it once he sensed a staggering strain in his legs, almost completely immobilizing him. The frost was rapidly spreading.
Panic crawled across Michael's as he got locked in a kneeled position, unable to completely recover from his previous tumble.
His mistake was paid in blood after he felt severe pain in his arm. He looked over with terror as he witnessed a disgusting maw locked on it, blackened teeth effortlessly punctured all the way through. Crimson spurted like a gushing waterfall and stained the snow with a sickening portrait reflecting Michael's curse.
'You fucked up!'
The blood sprouting from Michael's arm splattered on the wolf's face and invaded it's snarled maws. It wasn't long before it inevitably relinquished it's clutches as the creature's body repulsed and twitched like a marionette connected to strings.
Michael didn't know if nightmare creatures were perturbed by pain, but even if their mind could handle it, that doesn't mean their body would still function normally. That's exactly what Michael banked on during this fight. Ravage their insides to stun them and finish them off.
Though... not everything planned will go to plan, especially for Michael.
Before Michael was able to quickly devour the fallen wolf, the one that leapt had already recovered and sprinted in his direction. He saw the other one still immobile and spasming, but it wouldn't be long until it recuperated.
'Why did it have to be three...'
Michael abandoned the staggered wolf and did something even he didn't expect, something he did out of pure instinct.
He was a street rat... and a rat was damn good at running.
So what did he do?
Michael ran towards the nightmare creature as fast as his legs could carry him and instantly closed the small gap. The beast opened its disgusting maws, inviting him to enjoy the peaceful embrace of death. He could clearly see deep inside it, the stains of blackened blood and meat still stuck on the tongue.
'You damned abomination!'
He continued his trajectory until he noticed that the wolf also leapt at him. Michael swerved his path at the last moment, yet he wasn't fast enough to totally avoid the serrated fangs. His entire shoulder and arm got swallowed by the depths of hell that clung with uncontrollable madness.
Michael couldn't help but cry out from the anguish of vividly feeling his muscles slowly shred and skin rip. He was locked in an awkward position from his atrocious footwork struggling to find a solid anchor amongst the shifting snow.
Though, despite how dire his situation looked, he couldn't help but look the beast dead in the eyes with a weak, vicious grin.
"Come on! Indulge in your thirst!"
His blood maliciously flowed into the nightmare creature's body and pooled under it's paws. The wolf crashed into the stained snow and squirmed from the foreign blood in it's filthy veins and brawny muscles.
Michael mounted the stunned beast and grabbed the head before devouring it. The grimy flesh and foul blood entered his mouth as he got sliced and pierced with ferocious claws.
He withstood the agonizing throbbing pain and continued consuming, using not only his mouth but his hands, tearing the fur apart and trying to crush the bone whenever possible. Every second, he had to use all his strength to not throw up and continue healing his wounds. Slowly, the frost's relentless momentum began to falter before stopping, though it never receded.
His feast was interrupted when he suddenly felt insufferable pain across his back. He shakily glared behind him to see that the first wolf had finally recovered and joined the hunt.
Michael felt like he was going to pass out any moment. He had felt more agony in the past few minutes than his whole life. Every time his back was macerated, it would simply come back to him, only to be mangled again and again. He couldn't even spare concentration on commanding his blood as his thoughts became foggy and empty. His movements grew weary and his eyes were blinded in a curtain of crimson.
His consciousness was about to slip until he heard a beautiful voice ring in his ears.
[You have slain an awakened beast: White Wolf.]
[Your blood grows thicker.]
[You have received a memory: Wolf's Wrath.]
At those words, Michael immediately outstretched his hand and furiously swung backwards in a wide arc, aiming right for the beast's head. In his hands - formed from ethereal sparkles - was a crude yet effective dagger carved from chalky bone. The curved blade was around the size of Michael's forearm and had a terrifying serrated edge. It's grip was masterfully fashioned with a mixture of blackened bone and charcoal steel, giving off a daunting and dangerous aura.
Michael didn't have to wait long before hearing those sweet words.
[You have slain an awakened beast: White Wolf.]
Michael brutally pulled the dagger from the nightmare creature's head and looked towards the last remaining wolf.
'He can wait.'
He looked at his own body and then to the mauled carcass in front of him.
'I need to hurry up.'
And so, he hesitantly resumed consuming the beast before him. He hadn't completely healed yet, and he had to do everything he could to slow down the frost spreading within him, not far from reaching his heart.
Michael spent the next few moments gulping the wolf down before he haggardly stood up, he didn't look too good. His body was riddled with scars and covered in blood head to toe, but that didn't matter.
He walked over to the nightmare creature still fighting the feeling of having it's insides toyed with. He slowly bent down and placed the dagger over it's head. After pausing for a few moments, he pierced the skull and twisted the blade, killing the abomination instantly.
[You have slain an awakened beast: White Wolf.]
Michael straightened his back before looking at his hands stained in crimson with carved intestines hanging between his fingers.
His emerald eyes glanced up towards the distance, facing where the snowstorm was coming from. As if he pierced the veil of snow, he could already tell that place was nothing but hell.
'I need to move.'
He looked back at the corpses around him with a subdued proud face, either because he killed four awakened beasts... or because he imagined a smart idea.