The Guildmaster ends the call and exhales slowly, the sound heavy in the dim office.
He sets the receiver down and drops a thick folder onto his desk — its label reads:"Experiment 0374-8A: Project Wendigo."
The door opens quietly. A man in a lab coat steps in.
"Is your call finished, Guildmaster?"
"Yes. Unfortunately." He rubs his temples. "We'll need to increase the Wendigo's bounty by another hundred and fifty percent."
"I understand, sir. After all the teams we've already lost, it's officially been reclassified as an S-Class threat."
The Guildmaster leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a long moment."This time, I contacted Eyeless — one of our best."
"With all due respect," the scientist says carefully, "perhaps we should open the bounty to any willing hunter. The risk is… considerable."
"Perhaps you're right," the Guildmaster murmurs. "Eyeless is good , but even the best can die."
They leave the room, the light flicking off behind them. A single sheet slips from the file, fluttering to the floor.
It shows a blurred photograph : a massive beast towering over a man with an axe, just before the moment of slaughter.
***
Eyeless draws his daggers, turning them slowly under the light. The edges are dulling again.
"Why am I even doing this job…" he mutters.
He grabs a whetstone and begins sharpening the blades, each stroke ringing quietly through the small apartment. Steel against steel. A rhythm of habit — and exhaustion.
"Is it really worth dying for the Guild?" he says to no one.
The metal hums softly as he stops, examining the freshly sharpened edge. Perfect again. Deadly again.
He slides the daggers back into their scabbards, then pulls on his leather gloves, tightening them until they creak. His boots follow — laced with practiced precision.
"I guess it pays well," he sighs. "Enough to make a living, at least."
He steps outside, locking the door behind him. The night air greets him cold and clean. Above, the stars are scattered like silver shards across the dark.
He tilts his head up."I wonder if Father's watching me," he whispers.
***
The hunter's boots creak in the snow as he approaches the outskirts of the now destroyed village.
Wolves howl in the surrounding forest.
He can almost hear human cries from far away.
Death cries.
A shiver runs down his spine.
Eyeless inspects the mess the monster made of this small town.
Houses burnt to a crisp, though the stone walls still stand under the cold night sky. The air reeks of carbonised wood and death.
A hand, frosted from the cold, pierces the snow, as if trying to grab something, but there is nothing to hold.
The snow is tainted from blood.
A body with a smashed skull is pressed against one of the remaining walls.
Eyeless walks up to it and sees a glint in the snow.
He recognises the object immediately. It's the Guild's emblem.
Other hunters were probably present when the beast attacked, but none seemed to survive the horror.
Then the hunter notices a trail of blood swerving and leading to the nearby forest.
He starts following the trail to the forest.
The wind stops.
An eerie silence falls upon the village.
Eyeless hears a deep growl, almost deciphering his name in it.
He jolts and turns around, draws his daggers, but sees nothing.
"This isn't hunting. I'm the prey"
***
It feels the intruder.
No one should be alive here.
It smells warm blood. Hears a heartbeat echo through the forest. Senses the snow creak beneath each step.
Weird thoughts.
Maybe lost memories.
Flashes.
A blinding light.
Straps around its wrists and ankles.
A stranger dressed in blue.
Sharp needles.
Broken bones.
A scalpel cutting through flesh.
Cold metal sliding under its skin.
Screams. Pain. Agony.
Were those… its?
The creature mimics a human voice.
Broken. Stretched. Warped.
"Help me…"
A shadow flickers between the trees, impossibly fast.
It growls, long and guttural.
"Eyeless."