The morning sun spilled over the thatched roofs of Eldervale, painting the village in shades of gold and amber. Smoke from hearth fires rose lazily into the sky, carrying the scent of fresh bread and burning oak. To most, it was just another day of harvest and laughter, of gathering water from the well and tending to fields.

But to Arden, every sunrise was a reminder that he was not alone inside his own skin.

For five years, a voice had lived within him, sometimes silent, sometimes whispering hunger. Today, the whisper was louder.

"Blood… just a little taste…"

His grip tightened on the wooden bucket he carried, knuckles whitening as he forced himself to breathe. He was on his way to the river, just as any teenager in Eldervale might do, but his mind was not calm.

He paused at the edge of the path, eyes scanning the trees. For a moment, the world seemed sharper: the rustle of wings above, the heartbeat of a rabbit hiding in the underbrush, the faint pulse of life in every villager he had passed earlier. The demon made him feel it all.

"Not today," he muttered under his breath, pushing the voice away.

The villagers smiled at him as he walked by, unaware of the battle raging within. To them, he was just nineteen, a quiet boy who had grown too quickly into a man. No one knew the truth. No one saw the shadow behind his calm eyes.

At the riverbank, he knelt and dipped the bucket into the cool water. His reflection rippled back at him his own face, dark hair falling loosely over his brow… and then, for a breath, not his face at all. Red eyes. A grin too sharp to be human.

He stumbled back, water sloshing onto the dirt.

"You can't hide me forever," the voice hissed, curling in his chest like smoke. "One day, they'll see what you are."

A shout broke the silence.

"Arden! Are you coming?"

He turned to see Maya, his childhood friend, waving at him from the road. She was balancing a basket of herbs against her hip, smiling in the way only she could, bright, untroubled, unafraid.

For a moment, the whispers retreated. He forced a smile and waved back. "Coming!"

But as he lifted the bucket, his hands still trembled. He knew the demon was right about one thing. He couldn't hide it forever.

And sooner or later… Eldervale would learn the truth.

Arden carried the full bucket back toward the village, each step heavier than the last. Maya walked beside him, humming softly as she adjusted the herbs in her basket. Her presence steadied him, she had always been his anchor, the one bright thing that kept the whispers from swallowing him whole.

They passed the village square, where children chased each other in circles, their laughter ringing like bells. A blacksmith hammered steel in rhythm nearby, sparks flying into the air. For a moment, Arden almost let himself believe he was just another villager.

"Arden," Maya said suddenly, her tone half-scolding. "You've been so quiet lately. Even more than usual."

He forced a chuckle. "Maybe I've run out of things to say."

Her sharp eyes narrowed. "Or maybe you're hiding something again."

He looked away, heart pounding. She had always seen too much.

Before he could answer, a shriek cut across the square. One of the children had tripped, skinning her knee on the cobblestones. The girl sat crying as a few villagers rushed to her side. Arden's gaze fell on the wound.

And then it happened.

The world slowed. He could hear the girl's heartbeat—fast, panicked. He could smell the iron tang of blood from where he stood. His chest burned as the demon stirred awake.

"Yes… fresh… take it."

Arden staggered, clutching the bucket so tightly the wood creaked. His vision blurred, and for a heartbeat, his hands were not his own, clawed, darkened, trembling with hunger.

"Arden?" Maya's voice pierced through, sharp with worry.

He blinked, and the claws were gone. The bucket slipped from his grip and crashed to the ground, spilling water across the dirt. Villagers turned to stare. His breath came ragged, his body shaking.

"I….I'm fine," he forced out, though his voice was strained.

Maya stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. Her touch was warm, grounding, but her eyes searched his face with quiet fear. "No, you're not."

The demon's laughter echoed in his skull, low and mocking. "Sooner or later, they will see. And when they do… There will be no turning back."

Arden clenched his jaw, leaning to steady himself as whispers of suspicion rippled through the onlookers. He had sworn never to let the demon take control. But in that moment, as the taste of blood lingered in the air, he realized something terrifying. His control was slipping. And Eldervale was no longer safe.

That night, Arden lay awake in the small wooden house he called home. The moonlight slipped through the cracks in the shutters, painting pale lines across the floor. He should have been sleeping. Instead, he sat at the edge of his bed, fists clenched.

"You almost had them today," the demon purred inside him, its voice like oil sliding over fire. "One little slip, and the truth would have spilled out. Imagine their faces when they see you for what you really are."

"Shut up," Arden hissed under his breath. "I won't let you take control."

"Won't let me? You can't stop me, boy. Every heartbeat, every drop of blood calls to us both. You feel it, don't you? That hunger? That power? You're mine."

Arden buried his face in his hands, pressing his palms against his temples as if he could squeeze the voice out. "No. I'm not yours. I'll fight you until the end."

The demon chuckled, low and cold. "Fight all you want. The day will come when you beg me to take over."

The laughter faded into silence, but the echo remained, gnawing at him. Arden lay back at last, staring at the ceiling. His body was trembling, not from fear but from the truth he didn't want to admit..

The morning sun crept over Eldervale, but Arden felt no warmth in it. He had hardly slept each time he closed his eyes, the demon's laughter returned, crawling through his thoughts like smoke.

He splashed water on his face, hoping to wash away the exhaustion, then stepped outside. The village was stirring awake: women laying out bread to rise, farmers hitching oxen to carts, children running barefoot through the grass. To anyone else, it was just another day.

But Arden could still hear the demon whispering beneath the surface.

"They don't know what you are. Tell them. Show them."

"Not today," Arden muttered.

"Not any day," another voice interrupted.

Arden looked up sharply. Maya stood nearby, arms crossed, her dark braid hanging over one shoulder. She tilted her head, studying him with those sharp eyes that always seemed to see past his defenses.

"You're talking to yourself again," she said softly. "And you look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I'm fine," Arden said, forcing a shrug. "You worry too much."

Maya stepped closer. "And you lie too much."

Her words struck deeper than he wanted to admit. He looked away, gripping the strap of his satchel. Maya's presence was a comfort, but her persistence was dangerous. She couldn't know what lurked inside him. Before he could reply, shouts rang out from the village square.

Arden and Maya hurried over, finding a small crowd gathered. Two farmers dragged something into the open a goat, its body torn open as though by claws. The air was thick with the stench of blood.

A murmur swept through the villagers.

"Wolves?"

"No… too deep. Look at those marks."

"Something's wrong. Something's in the forest."

Arden froze. The sight of blood made his chest tighten. His vision sharpened unnaturally, every heartbeat in the crowd thundering in his ears.

"Hungry… so hungry…" the demon whispered.

His hands trembled, and he clenched them into fists. Not now. Not here.

Maya's gaze flicked to him. "Arden…" she whispered, concerned about lacing her tone. She saw his struggle, even if no one else did.

Before anyone could speak further, a man staggered into the square. His clothes were torn, his arm bleeding from a deep gash. Gasps erupted as villagers rushed to catch him before he collapsed.

"Monsters," the man rasped. "In the woods… shadows with eyes… they're coming."

The village erupted in panic.

The elders stepped forward, voices firm despite the fear. "We must gather hunters. We must protect Eldervale."

Arden's stomach turned cold. Monsters. Shadows with eyes. The words struck something deep within him, as if the demon inside recognized them.

"They are kin," the voice purred. "You feel it, don't you? The forest calls to us."

Arden pressed a hand against his chest, breathing hard. No, he couldn't let it draw him in.

"Arden," Maya said again, tugging at his sleeve. Her face was pale, her voice urgent. "What's happening to you? You're shaking."

"I'm fine," he lied again, though his voice cracked.

She didn't believe him. Her eyes were sharp, almost accusing now. "You're hiding something from me. Something dangerous."

Arden froze, his throat dry. The words lodged in him like a blade.

Before he could respond, the elders called for volunteers to scout the forest. Villagers whispered, suspicion already swirling.

And through it all, the demon's voice laughed inside his skull.

"The shadows are coming, boy. You can't run from them. When they arrive, your little village will finally see the truth."

Arden clenched his fists, his heart pounding. He had kept his secret for five years. But now, with Maya's piercing gaze and the threat creeping from the forest, he felt the walls closing in.

The shadows were moving closer.

And this time, he wasn't sure he could stop what was coming.

The village square buzzed with fear and debate. Elders stood at the center, their voices rising above the crowd.

"These killings cannot be ignored," Elder Bran declared, his beard trembling with every word. "If beasts stalk the forest, they must be driven out before they reach our homes."

"But these are no ordinary beasts," another villager muttered. "Did you see those wounds? Too deep for wolves. Too sharp for bears."

The crowd murmured agreement, unease thick as fog.

Elder Bran raised a hand. "We will send a party to the forest. Hunters, strong men, anyone willing. We must know what lurks there."

Arden's stomach dropped. The words clawed at him. The forest. The shadows. The demon inside him thrummed with excitement.

"Yes… Take me there. I want to see them."

Arden stepped back, shaking his head. No. He couldn't risk it. If blood was spilled out there, if he lost control…..

"Arden," a voice called. He looked up to see several villagers staring at him. "You're strong. You should go," one of the hunters said. "We'll need all the help we can get."

"I…" His voice caught in his throat.

Maya stepped forward quickly. "He's not well," she said firmly. "You saw him earlier, he's pale, trembling. He doesn't have to.."

But Elder Bran's eyes were on Arden. "You're nineteen now. A man. Eldervale needs all who can wield a blade. Will you stand aside while others protect your home?"

The weight of the stares pressed on him. Every instinct screamed to refuse…but he couldn't. Not without drawing suspicion. Not with Maya watching.

Arden swallowed hard. "I'll go."

Maya's hand tightened around his arm. "Arden"

He gave her a weak smile. "I'll be fine."

But inside, his chest burned with the demon's laughter. "Yes… finally. Let's hunt."

By late afternoon, the chosen group gathered at the edge of the village. Hunters strung their bows, swords glinted in the fading light, and the air was thick with dread. Arden stood among them, a borrowed blade at his side.

Maya lingered close, her brow furrowed. "You don't have to prove anything," she whispered. "If something's wrong, tell me now."

Arden looked at her, words trembling on his tongue. He wanted to tell her everything about the voice, the hunger, the curse. But the weight of it crushed him into silence.

Instead, he simply said, "Stay safe, Maya."

She scowled. "Don't you dare say that like it's goodbye."

The elders raised torches, casting long shadows against the treeline. The party stepped forward, the forest looming dark and endless before them.

As Arden crossed the threshold of the woods, the whispers returned, stronger than ever.

"Home," the demon hissed, almost gleeful. "You've brought me home."

A chill rippled down Arden's spine.

The hunt had begun.

The deeper they pressed into the woods, the more the forest seemed to swallow them whole. The light of the torches barely reached beyond the trunks, their flames trembling against the pressing dark. Every step felt wrong, as though the earth itself resented their intrusion.

Arden walked near the front, his hand tight on the hilt of his blade. The demon inside him stirred, restless. "You feel it too, don't you? This place reeks of blood and fear. Just let me out, I'll show you what hunts here."

He clenched his jaw, forcing the voice aside.

Maya, walking beside him, glanced up. "You're tense," she whispered.

"I'm fine," he muttered, but even to his own ears, the words rang hollow.

A sudden snap echoed through the undergrowth. The group froze, weapons raised. Only silence followed, thick and suffocating. The torches crackled, their flames casting nervous shadows.

"Probably just a deer," one of the hunters said, though his voice shook.

They pressed on. After some time, the path opened into a small clearing. There, under the pale glow of moonlight, lay the carcass of a stag. Its body was torn apart, ribs jutting like jagged spears, but no blood stained the ground. Every drop had been drained. The hunters swore under their breath.

"What… what could do this?" one asked.

Arden's vision blurred. The smell of iron hit his senses like fire, burning through his veins. The demon's voice deepened, hungry. "Yes… yes. I can taste it. Just a little more and you'll break"

"Arden."

Maya's voice broke through the haze. Her hand brushed against his arm, grounding him. He sucked in a breath, forcing the hunger back down into the pit where it belonged.

Before he could speak, the forest itself seemed to shift. Branches rattled though no wind stirred. From the shadows, low growls emerged too deep, too guttural to belong to any animal they knew.

The first creature lunged from the dark.

It was no wolf, though it moved on four legs. Its body was twisted, its skin stretched too thin over bone, and its eyes glowed with a sickly crimson light. Behind it, more shapes moved, slipping between the trees like nightmares given flesh.

The hunters cried out, loosing arrows, brandishing spears. The beasts struck with feral speed, slamming men to the ground, tearing into shields.

Arden drew his blade, parrying the first strike. The impact rattled his arm, stronger than anything he'd fought before. Another beast circled, snarling, and his pulse thundered in his ears.

"You can't win like this," the demon sneered. "Give me control. Just for a heartbeat, and I'll rip them apart."

"No," Arden hissed under his breath, slashing at the beast.

But his strength faltered. His blows landed clumsily, weaker than they should have been. The creatures pressed harder, red eyes gleaming.

"Arden!" Maya's voice rang out, fierce and desperate. He looked up, saw her swinging a torch at one of the beasts, driving it back. For an instant, the fog lifted.

He tightened his grip, forcing himself to fight not with the demon's strength, but his own. He struck, blade flashing, and one of the creatures fell back with a shriek.

The fight dragged on, chaos spilling through the clearing. And then, as suddenly as it began, the beasts retreated, melting into the shadows of the trees.

The hunters stood gasping, bloodied but alive.

Arden dropped to one knee, his chest heaving. Inside him, the demon purred, disappointed. "You're weak, boy. Without me, you'll die. But with me… oh, you'd be unstoppable." He pressed a hand to his chest, trembling.

But then, another voice whispered, one that wasn't his demon. A voice that echoed from deeper within the forest, low and commanding.

"Come to me, vessel…"

Arden's blood ran cold. The demon inside him went silent, as if listening.

Whatever lived in this forest wasn't just a beast. It was calling to him.

Arden staggered to his feet, his breath misting in the cold night air. The hunters gathered in the clearing, shaken and bloodied, whispering about the creatures.

"They weren't wolves," one muttered, clutching a torn arm. "Wolves don't vanish into the shadows."

"They came from the north," another said, his voice grim. "Near the Black Hollow. I told you nothing good ever crawled out of there."

The mention of that place sent a shiver through the group. Even the elders rarely spoke of it.

Maya's eyes never left Arden. She'd seen him freeze, seen his struggle. "Arden…" she whispered, stepping closer. "What happened to you back there? You looked like you weren't yourself."

His mouth opened, but no words came. How could he tell her the truth when she was the only person keeping him anchored?

Before he could answer, the voice returned.

"Come… vessel…"

This time, it wasn't just in his head. The trees themselves seemed to hum with the sound, low and vibrating, as if the entire forest was speaking.

Arden clutched his chest, staggering back.

"Arden!" Maya caught his arm, alarm flashing in her eyes. "What is it?"

The hunters turned too, suspicion now twisting their faces.

"He hears something," one said, his tone sharp. "Did you see the way he froze? Like he knew those things before they came."

"Don't be ridiculous," Maya snapped, but her grip on Arden tightened.

"Deeper," the voice coaxed. "I await you… bring me the boy who carries the flame of ruin."

Arden's heart pounded. His demon stirred again, but this time, instead of mocking, it went quiet, almost reverent. That terrified him more than anything.

The hunters were arguing now, some wanting to push on, others insisting they return to the village at once. Fear gnawed at the group, but Arden barely heard them. His gaze was fixed on the dark path ahead, where the trees seemed to arch into a tunnel of shadows.

The voice whispered one last time, soft and insistent.

"Come, vessel. Your fate begins here."

Arden's knees buckled. Maya caught him as the torches flickered violently, as though the forest itself was warning them to turn back.

The elders called for retreat, dragging the group away from the clearing. But even as they stumbled back toward the village, Arden knew the truth.

The real danger hadn't even revealed itself yet. And it was waiting for him.