Seeing the cut, Ugo instantly ran to his mother. He knew how dangerous were sharp knives, and how painful it was to cut into his own flesh. He did not hesitate to call his parents.
Oswald's hand had a one-centimetre deep cut from his wrist to the tip of his index, his phalanges had a white spot in their middle. The pain receptors had yet to make Oswald react. He was observing his hand with care when it started to reattach.
The painful part begun, the blood on his hand bubbled, boiled and vanished into thin air, the wound on his hand closed fiber after fiber and under a few seconds, not even a scratch remained, leaving behind nothing but a flabbergasted, sober Oswald.
"Oh boy." He said, checking again the state of his limb. Nothing wrong with it, perfectly operational.
Half-naked Adelmo came downstairs, the soft fabric around his hips bent to the shape of his muscles, detailing the kind of activity he did until few seconds ago.
His torso was covered in muscles and sweat, he had a great built that could make women blush, his charisma had not much adversity in the village.
"Are you okay buddy?" He asked.
Oswald kept butchering the boar as if nothing had happened, making Adelmo question his son. "But, dad, I'm sure of what I saw!" Ugo insisted, but being young and often amplifying the 'truth', he was hard to believe.
"Oswald, I did not expect you today. What did you hunt this time?" Said Tina, her hair messy and few drops of sweat on her forehead. She was stunned to see a boar, bigger than last time despite its hunter being alone to kill the animal.
She saw the wound on its throat, and the one on its head, which lacked blood, she could tell how the animal had died, and how unnecessary was one of the cut. She couldn't tell which weapon was used for its throat though.
"Hey Tina, check this one! He's pretty fat, we'll get quite a lot meat from it." Said Oswald, completely ignoring the man. To his eyes, it was a good move on the woman.
Tina was bothered by the teenager in her house, his attitude was a little too intrusive for her, moreover her son was panicked when he asked them to come over.
She kindly helped him finish the job, but reluctantly talked. Adelmo put clothes on and watched over their conversation all along, both parents noticed the strange look, the slight changes that made him look different. The odd atmosphere in the shop lasted until Oswald left.
Adelmo spoke. "He's a freak. I don't like him much."
Tina replied. "He's strange, but I'm sure it's because he does not have as much relationships as you."
And Oswald heard all of it. 'What the hell is his problem?' He thought. His hand's regeneration frightened him because it was related to the night he met the monster. He grabbed Simon in the inn and brought him to the tannery thanks to the wheelbarrow.
"Massage me harder honey!" Said the drunkard. He reeked alcohol, the scene was seen by many in the village. Oswald put the man in his bed and the boar's skin nearby. He was annoyed by the man's ability to not care about himself, yet on a shelve, he recognised the clean pelt he brought one week ago. The work was done, but nothing was sold, meaning he was way closer to broke than rich.
He tried to wake up the man, again lifting him from his comfortable sleeping position, bringing some relief in the intense back pain he had.
"I'm the king of the world!" Simon exclaimed, satisfied.
Oswald was irritated of the many things that did not go as expected recently. "Simon! Wake up already! I'm loosing my temper again!"
His jaw was tense and his eyes wide open, while he pressed the man against a wall, the dust on the ceiling's exposed beams fell on their head. Two blunt hooks from a coat hanger sunk into the man's back.
"Yes! Harder!" Simon shouted, he felt like the main problem in his back could be settled with a little more pressure.
Crack!
"Ah!" Simon reached cloud nine. "Who's your daddy?!" He managed to whisper with his large grin of satisfaction.
Alas, Oswald's temper had reached its limits. His two bloodshot eyes turned yellow, the strength to keep the man against the wall increased and with each expansion of his lungs, Oswald's bones and muscles rearranged themselves to make him bigger.
The force he used to push the man had his nails nearly piercing the man's skin.
Crack. One shoulder dislocated, Simon understood how bad the situation was although most of what he saw was blurry. "Stop! Please stop! I can't breathe!" He begged.
The thin lips of the boy parted ways to let out sharp white teeth in the boy's mouth, his saliva bubbled on each corner of it.
The boy's rumbling stomach managed to distract his mind for a second, allowing him to calm down. The oppressing feeling was more than present, his head was few centimeters closer to the ceiling, he could touch it with his head with a small jump.
Simon's thought were messy. "What's wrong with you?" He asked while panting. The two light-refracting eyeballs were staring at him, the round shape of his eyes hid nothing of it and the heavy atmosphere stressed them both.
"Are you okay?" Both asked at the same time.
Never in his life did the person he wounded asked him how he was feeling. With a deep breath and his apologies, Oswald smoothened the conversation. He sat on a chair that barely fitted his hips and apologized once more.
"I had rough days. I'm sorry."
"So did I! You should drink more often!" Rebuked the pained tanner.
"In the contrary, drinking didn't help at all, I... Almost cut myself!" He said, thinking about the wonders of flesh regeneration.
He stayed in the chair until the blood flow in his throat lessened.