The crackle of the campfire intermingled with the chorus of nocturnal creatures, the scent of pine and earth mingling with the smoke. The wilderness had a charming, almost soothing quality that even I, Felix Megistus, could appreciate. Despite the raw beauty of nature, there was an underlying tension in our little group of hikers. The night was a canvas upon which shadows danced and secrets lingered.
I sat with the group, an air of nonchalance cloaking me like a fine garment. My celestial blood gave me the power to manipulate the arcane, and though I found myself among these regular mortals, I was far above them in every sense. As we sat around the campfire, I decided it was time to regale them with a tale. I leaned in so the campfire cast my eyes and mouth in shadow, while my cheeks and chin were brightly illuminated.
"Let me tell y'all a story," I began, my voice carrying the faintest hint of an old-world accent. "Once, in a place underneath the catacombs of Paris, I found myself in a standoff with a group of undesirable humans. They were wretched, loathsome creatures, riddled with the stains of corruption and dark influence. One of them stood out among the rest, for that one had made a pact with a strigoi to sacrifice his coworkers for eternal undeath"
The others leaned in, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. I could see the intrigue in their eyes, their mortal curiosity piqued by my words.
"How did you know which one made the pact?" asked Jason, a burly man with a beard that seemed to have a life of its own.
"Ah, Jason," I replied, savoring the attention. "In such matters, one must rely on intuition, on the subtle cues that reveal the truth. The rat among them was cunning, deceitful. It had attached strings of foul magic to the others in order to lead the strigoi to our location."
"What is a strigoi, Mister Felix," murmured Sarah, her eyes wide with fascination.
"Well Sarah, a strigoi is a dark creature born from death that eats humans. They are stronger than you and faster than you." I graciously explained, "A species you should pray to never encounter."
"Sounds like quite the predicament." Sarah added.
"Indeed, Sarah," I said, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth. "But I am not one to be deceived easily. I watched them closely, followed the strings with my senses, and slowly, the truth revealed itself."
The group was captivated, their attention fully mine. I continued my tale, painting an image of a group of people gathered in a dark place with a foreboding atmosphere and a dark creature lurking, though I did not explicitly state the true reason behind my story. As I spoke, I noticed subtle glances among the hikers, their minds processing my words as we roasted hot dogs.
When I finished, there was a moment of silence, broken only by the crackling fire. Then, Lisa, a petite woman with an infectious smile, spoke up.
"That reminds me of how we all met," she said, her voice carrying a nostalgic tone. "It was at summer camp during school. We were just kids then, except for you, Felix. We met you on this trip."
Sarah leaned forward, her face reflecting the warm glow of the campfire as she began her tale. "It was a few years back, during a summer trip organized by our college. There were four of us—Jason, Lisa, Tom, and me—out in the woods with our teacher, Mr. Higgins. We were just kids then, excited to spend a week away from home, camping and exploring the wilderness."
I watched the group as she spoke, noting the nostalgic smiles that crept across their faces. Even Claire, the one whose presence I questioned, seemed to be drawn into the story.
"Mr. Higgins was a great teacher," Sarah continued. "He had this knack for making everything fun. He'd start his class by telling us stories about the stars, teach us how to identify different plants and animals, and always had some cool survival trick to show us. We felt like real adventurers."
Jason chuckled, shaking his head. "Remember that time he showed us how to start a fire with just two sticks? We thought he was some kind of wizard."
"Yeah," Lisa added with a grin, "and we all tried it and failed miserably. We ended up using matches."
The group laughed, the memory clearly a fond one. Even I found myself smirking, though more at their simplicity than the humor of the situation.
"One evening," Sarah said, her voice taking on a more serious tone, "we were sitting around the campfire, much like we are now. Professor Higgins had gone to get some more firewood, and we were telling ghost stories. That's when Claire appeared."
Claire, sitting across from me, shifted uncomfortably but kept listening.
"We heard a rustling in the bushes," Sarah explained, "and out walked this girl. She looked lost and scared. We immediately ran to her, asking if she was okay."
Lisa nodded. "She told us she had been separated from her group and had been wandering the woods for hours. She looked so relieved to find us."
"Mr. Higgins came back and assured her that she'd be safe with us," Sarah continued. "We spent the rest of the week with Claire, showing her around and including her in all our activities. It was like she'd always been part of our group."
"We played games, hiked through the woods, and spent nights around the campfire roasting marshmallows," Jason said, his voice warm with the memory. "Claire fit right in. We even gave her some of our extra gear."
"One night," Tom interjected, "we snuck out to the lake for a midnight swim. It was freezing, but we had the time of our lives. My Claire was the bravest of us all, diving in first without a second thought."
"And then there were the campfire stories," Sarah added, a wistful smile on her face. "We'd sit around, talking about everything under the stars. We felt like a family."
The group fell silent for a moment, each of them lost in their own memories. It was a touching story, but there was something about it that felt… off. A detail that didn't quite fit. I could see Claire's discomfort growing as the story went on, but she maintained her composure.
"The week ended," Sarah continued, "and we all went back to our normal lives. But the bond we formed that summer stayed with us. And now, here we are, years later, back in the woods together."
Claire, who had been silent up until now, cleared her throat. "Yeah, those were good times. I'm glad I found you all that night."
"Strange, isn't it?" I interjected, my tone casual. "How such bonds can form so quickly and feel so permanent."
The others nodded, but I saw the hint of a shadow pass over Claire's face.
Jason leaned back against a log, his face illuminated by the flickering flames of the campfire. The night was settling in, the sounds of crickets and distant owls creating a serene backdrop for his tale. With a grin, he began to recount one of their more wild adventures from high school.
"Alright, gather 'round, everyone," Jason said, his deep voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I've got a story that'll take you back to our high school days. Remember that epic party at Tom's place? The one where everything went from zero to a hundred real quick?"
The others nodded, smiles spreading across their faces as they recalled the memory. Even Claire, despite the tension, seemed to ease into the story.
"It was one of those rare weekends when Tom's parents were out of town, and naturally, he decided to throw a party. You know, just a small get-together with a few friends," Jason began, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Of course, word got out, and soon half the school was there."
"Yeah, I remember," Tom interjected with a laugh. "We had people packed in like sardines. The music was blaring, the dance floor was a mess, but everyone was having a blast."
"We had all the essentials for a high school rager," Jason continued. "Soda, chips, some pizza... the usual. But then Claire showed up, and that's when things really got interesting."
Claire, who had been staring into the fire, looked up with a playful smirk. "Oh, come on, Jason. I wasn't that bad."
"You were worse," Jason teased, earning a chuckle from the group. "Claire didn't just bring herself; she brought the whole party with her. She walked in with bags full of weed, bottles of alcohol, and a stack of R-rated movies. It was like Christmas came early for a bunch of high school kids."
"That sounds like Claire," Lisa chimed in, shaking her head with a grin. "Always the life of the party."
"So there we were," Jason continued, "thinking the party couldn't get any crazier. But Claire proved us wrong. She turned up the music, passed around the drinks and joints, and before we knew it, the place was an absolute madhouse."
"We were watching some raunchy comedy when the police showed up," Tom said, his face reddening at the memory. "I thought for sure we were all done for."
"That's where Claire saved our asses," Jason said, his tone shifting to one of admiration. "She had this incredible knack for thinking on her feet. While everyone else was freaking out, Claire walked right up to the front door to meet the cops."
"What did you say to them, Claire?" Sarah asked, eyes wide with curiosity.
Claire chuckled, shaking her head. "I told them we were just having a small gathering, that things had gotten a bit out of hand but we were wrapping it up. I kept them distracted, gave them some BS story about being responsible and just trying to keep everyone safe."
"Meanwhile," Jason said, picking up the story, "the rest of us were scrambling to get out of there. We climbed out windows, hopped fences, and scattered into the night. Claire gave us enough time to escape before the cops got too curious."
"I remember hiding in a neighbor's backyard, heart pounding like crazy," Lisa said, laughing at the memory. "We all thought we were going to get busted."
"But we didn't," Jason said, looking at Claire with a nod of gratitude. "Thanks to Claire, we got away clean. She took the heat, calmed the cops down, and somehow managed to avoid getting in serious trouble herself."
"How did you do it, Claire?" Tom asked, still amazed after all these years.
Claire shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Sometimes, you just have to know how to talk to people. A little charm, a little quick thinking... and a lot of luck."
The fire crackled softly, casting a warm light over the circle of friends. As Jason's story came to an end, Tom leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. The weight of his words was palpable even before he began to speak. His visage highlighted by the dancing flames.
"Alright," Tom said, his voice tinged with a somber note. "I guess it's my turn to share. My story is a bit different—less about wild parties and more about the tougher times in life. And through it all, Claire was there for me."
Claire's face softened, a flicker of genuine emotion crossing her features as Tom began his tale.
"It all started during middle school when my parents divorced," Tom said, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "I was sixteen, and it hit me hard. They'd been fighting for years, but when they finally split, it felt like my whole world was falling apart. Claire was there for me, though. She was a new friend then, but she offered a shoulder to lean on when I needed it most."
Lisa and Sarah exchanged glances, their expressions turning serious as they listened.
"Claire would come over and just sit with me," Tom continued. "Sometimes we'd talk, other times we'd just watch movies or listen to music. She didn't have to say much—her presence was enough to keep me grounded."
Tom paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Then, just a year later, my older brother died in a car accident. It was... it was devastating. He was my hero, you know? The guy I looked up to. Losing him left a hole in my heart that I thought would never heal."
Claire reached out, placing a comforting hand on Tom's shoulder. "You don't have to go into all the details, Tom," she said softly, but he shook his head.
"No, it's important," he replied, his voice steady. "That's when Claire and I started dating. She was my rock, the one person who understood my pain. We leaned on each other, and in those moments, our bond grew stronger."
"Then came the worst blow," Tom said, his voice faltering. "Just a few weeks after my brother's death, my mom... she took her own life. She couldn't handle the grief, and I was left feeling completely shattered."
The group was silent, the gravity of Tom's words settling over them like a heavy blanket. Even I felt a pang of empathy, despite my usual detachment.
"Claire was there for me every step of the way," Tom continued, his voice growing stronger. "She helped me through the darkest times, kept me from turning to alcohol or hard drugs to numb the pain. She was the light that guided me out of the darkness."
"Remember those late-night walks?" Claire said, her voice filled with warmth. "We'd just wander the neighborhood, talking about everything and nothing. It was our way of coping, of finding a bit of peace amidst the chaos."
Tom nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "Yeah, those walks were everything. We talked about our dreams, our fears, and somehow, it made everything a little more bearable."
"I remember you telling me about those walks," Sarah said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You said they were what kept you going."
"Exactly," Tom agreed. "Claire helped me see that there was still beauty in the world, even after all the loss. She showed me that I wasn't alone, that I could find strength in our friendship and love."
Jason, Lisa, and Sarah all looked at Claire with a new appreciation, their expressions filled with gratitude for the role she had played in Tom's life.
"You really were there for him," Lisa said softly. "We all owe you for that, Claire."
Claire smiled, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—something that didn't quite fit.
"Thanks for sharing that, Tom," I said, my voice measured. "It's clear that you've all been through a lot together."
Tom nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "Yeah, we have. And through it all, Claire's been my anchor. I don't know where I'd be without her."
The firelight flickered, casting eerie shadows across the group. As Tom's heartfelt story came to an end, Lisa leaned forward, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the flames. She took a deep breath, a nostalgic smile playing at her lips as she began her tale.
"Alright, it's my turn," Lisa said, her voice gentle but clear. "Let me take you back to elementary school, to when Claire and I first met. We were just kids, and our classroom was set up in a way that's kind of unusual now. We had these two-person desks, while everyone else had single seaters."
Jason chuckled. "I remember those desks. Always felt like a bit of a punishment when you got stuck with someone you didn't like."
"Exactly," Lisa agreed, her smile widening. "But for me, it was the best thing that could have happened. Claire and I were assigned to the same desk. From the first day, we just clicked."
"Must've been nice to have a built-in friend in class," Sarah said, leaning in closer.
"It was," Lisa said, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "We'd sit next to each other, and whenever the teacher wasn't looking, we'd draw together. We had this big sketchbook that we'd pass back and forth. Claire would draw these amazing, imaginative scenes, and I'd try to keep up with my own little doodles."
Claire smiled softly, the memories clearly fond for her as well. "I remember that sketchbook. We filled it with all sorts of crazy ideas."
"Yeah," Lisa continued, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "We'd draw everything from magical lands to our favorite characters from books and movies. It was our little world, and it made school a lot more fun."
"One of the best memories I have from those days is the book fair," Lisa said, her smile growing brighter. "We had this huge project where we had to read a book and then create a report and presentation on it. Claire and I chose 'Hatchet' by Gary Paulsen."
"Great book," Tom interjected, nodding appreciatively. "I remember reading that one."
"Yeah, it was a fantastic choice," Lisa agreed. "We were really excited about it. We spent weeks working on our report, drawing pictures of the scenes from the book, and writing up our presentation. We even built a little diorama of Brian's camp in the wilderness."
"We'd stay after school some days just to work on it," Claire added, her voice warm with the memory. "It was so much fun, even though it was a lot of work."
"The big day came, and we presented our project to the class," Lisa continued. "We were nervous, but we knew we had something special. The teacher and our classmates loved it. We won first place at the book fair for our report on 'Hatchet.'"
"That's impressive," Jason said, clearly impressed. "First place at the book fair is no small feat."
"It really was," Lisa said, her smile radiant. "It was the first time I felt like I'd accomplished something big, and it was all thanks to Claire. She was the one who made everything more fun and exciting. We became best friends that year, and we've been close ever since."
"Claire always had a way of making things better," Sarah said softly. "She's been a part of all our lives in such a meaningful way."
Lisa nodded, her eyes glistening with emotion. "Yeah, she really has. We've been through so much together, and those early days in elementary school were just the beginning."
The fire crackled, and the group fell into a comfortable silence, each person lost in their own thoughts. Lisa's story had painted a picture of a deep and enduring friendship, one that had weathered the storms of life and remained strong. Claire spoke up, relaxing on a log leaned away from the fire.
"Alright, everyone," Claire said, her voice carrying a playful lilt. "Let me tell you about some of the wild times Felix and I had. We used to drink until we were kicked out of clubs."
She glanced at me, expecting to see amusement or camaraderie, but I remained unamused, my face a mask of indifference. Sensing she needed to pivot, she continued.
"But those club nights, they were just the beginning," she said, shifting her tone. "We had some really interesting times staying up late, playing poker with the most bizarre group of characters you could imagine. There was a mob boss who insisted on being called Mr. Big, the ice-cream man who always brought a cooler of his best treats, and a Vietnam veteran who had the wildest stories."
The group leaned in, their curiosity piqued by the eclectic cast of characters. Even Jason, who usually kept a skeptical distance, seemed drawn into the tale.
"Mr. Big was this huge guy, always wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than my rent," Claire continued. "He had this intimidating presence, but he was surprisingly good at small talk. Then there was the ice-cream man. He was an older guy, with a truck full of every flavor you could think of. He'd show up to our games with a cooler, handing out ice-cream bars like they were poker chips."
"Ice-cream at a poker game?" Lisa asked, laughing. "That's something you don't hear every day."
"Yeah, it was surreal," Claire agreed, a wistful smile on her face. "And then there was the Vietnam vet. He had this intense gaze, always looking like he was ready for a fight. But he had the most incredible stories about his time in the war, stories that would keep us on the edge of our seats."
Claire's storytelling had the group thoroughly engaged, hanging on her every word. But I noticed the subtle glances she threw my way, checking for any reaction. She wasn't getting what she wanted.
"So, there we were, this bizarre mix of people, playing poker until the early hours of the morning," Claire continued. "It was like something out of a movie. But as wild as those nights were, there was something even more interesting."
She paused, looking directly at me. "Felix and I actually met in passing once in the woods, a few years ago. It was a brief encounter, but it stuck with me."
I leaned in slightly, intrigued by where she was going with this. As I took off my coat and settled in, Claire's eyes lit up, sensing she had finally captured my attention.
"We were both on separate hikes," she said, her voice softening as if recalling a fond memory. "It was early morning, the forest was quiet, and the air was crisp. I was walking along a trail having just finished some spelunking with my mother when I saw him—Felix—emerging from the mist. We exchanged a few words, something about the beauty of nature, I think. It was a fleeting moment, but it felt significant."
Claire's tone was almost nostalgic as she elaborated, weaving a story that felt too perfect, too rehearsed. "I remember thinking how odd it was to run into someone so intriguing in the middle of nowhere. We didn't stay long, just a brief conversation before parting ways. But that moment always stayed with me."
I let her words hang in the air for a moment before cutting in. "Claire, that's an interesting tale, but I think you might be confusing me with someone else."
Her face paled slightly, a flicker of panic crossing her features before she composed herself. "No, I'm sure it was you, Felix. How could I forget?"
The others looked between us, sensing the tension. Claire tried to maintain her composure.
"Felix, why don't you tell another story?" she said, her voice strained. "Maybe one about the monsters you've hunted."
I smirked, leaning forward. "Alright, Claire. Since you insist. Let me tell you about some of the darker legends I've encountered. Ones that involve creatures capable of deception and manipulation."
The fire crackled, casting a warm glow over our small circle. The night was deepening, and it was time to share a tale that would unsettle even the most comfortable among us. Claire's discomfort only added to my resolve. I leaned forward, my voice low and resonant, drawing everyone's attention.
"Let me tell you about a hunt I undertook in Western Europe," I began, my eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "This creature, this beast, stalked travelers along the old trails, haunting the dark forests and remote paths. It was cunning, elusive, and deadly."
Jason and Sarah exchanged uneasy glances, while Lisa leaned in, clearly intrigued. Even Tom, who had been somber moments before, seemed to be drawn into the story.
"I tracked it for weeks, following the trail of its attacks," I continued. "The victims were found in varying states of dismemberment, each more gruesome than the last. The local authorities were baffled, attributing the killings to wild animals or rogue wolves. But I knew better."
"How did you know it wasn't just a wild animal?" Lisa asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
I smiled, savoring the moment. "There were signs, Lisa. Signs only someone with my expertise would recognize. The claw marks, the way the bodies were arranged, the lingering sense of malevolence in the air. This was no ordinary beast."
"That sounds terrifying," Sarah murmured, her eyes wide.
"It was," I agreed. "But I am not easily frightened. I continued my pursuit, and eventually, I cornered it in a cave system deep in the Black Forest. The creature fought with the ferocity of a mother bear defending her cubs. Its claws were sharp, its roar deafening. Its mouth misshapen and wide enough to unnerve a grizzled soldier. The battle was brutal."
Claire shifted uncomfortably, attempting to interject. "Felix, maybe we should—"
But I ignored her, pressing on. "The cave echoed with the sounds of our struggle. The creature was desperate, driven by a primal instinct to survive. But I was relentless. After a fierce fight, I managed to subdue it, delivering the final blow."
Jason's face was pale, but he was clearly captivated. "Did it have any cubs? You mentioned it fought like a mother bear."
"Ah, yes," I said, my eyes narrowing. "That's the interesting part. I found no cubs at the time, but I've recently begun to suspect I overlooked something. A ranger here in Maine contacted me about a series of attacks that bore a striking resemblance to those I encountered in Europe."
"Here in Maine?" Tom asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Indeed," I replied. "The ranger described the same patterns, the same viciousness. It seems the creature I killed in that cave had a child, one that has now migrated to America. One that lives in these very woods."
Claire's discomfort grew with every word, and she tried once more to change the subject. "Felix, maybe we shouldn't—"
But the others were too invested. "Go on, Felix," Jason urged. "What have you found?"
I leaned closer, my voice a conspiratorial whisper. "I believe the creature's offspring has been stalking these woods, waiting for the right moment to strike. The signs are all there—disappearing hikers, strange sightings, a palpable sense of dread. This creature, this child, has inherited its mother's cunning and ferocity."
Lisa's eyes were wide with fear. "Do you think it's close?"
"Closer than you might think," I said, my gaze drifting to Claire. "The ranger's reports indicate it's been moving closer to populated areas, perhaps drawn by the abundance of prey."
Claire's face was pale, her discomfort turning to nervousness. "Felix, we really should talk about something else. This is making everyone uncomfortable."
But the group was hooked, their fear palpable yet tinged with excitement. "No, Claire," Sarah said, her voice trembling. "I want to hear the rest."
I continued, ignoring Claire's pleas. "This creature is different from its mother. It's smarter, more cautious. But it's also more desperate, hungrier. It's been watching us, waiting for the right moment."
Claire's nervousness turned to anger. "Felix, stop this! You're scaring everyone!"
"The creature is a particular monster," I said, my gaze fixed on Claire. "A creature known as the flesh gait. It mimics people, fabricating memories to blend in with its victims. It's a master of deception, but it cannot hide its true nature forever."
Claire's face contorted with a mix of nervousness and anger. "Felix, can't we talk about something else?!" she snapped, her voice trembling.
I ignored her, pressing on. "The flesh gait becomes agitated when its deception is threatened. It despises when others mess with its mind, for it is a creature of control."
"Enough!" Claire shouted, standing up abruptly. "You're just trying to scare everyone. We should banish you from this group!"
But as she looked around, she realized the others were no longer there. We were alone, the fire now embers barely smoldering, the campsite bathed in the light from the moon.
"You don't like it when others mess with your mind, do you?" I said softly, a triumphant smirk on my face.
Claire's eyes widened in realization, the truth sinking in. The facade she had maintained was crumbling, and I reveled in the power I held over her. In that moment, the true game was mine to control.
"Your time of deception is over," I said, my voice a cold whisper.