Alaric took a staggering step forward, his legs trembling beneath him like a newborn deer. He had been a king once, an unstoppable force of destruction, but now his limbs betrayed him with every movement. His body was too weak, too malnourished to support the burning rage that festered inside him. Each step sent shocks of pain through his muscles, but it wasn't the physical agony that concerned him. It was the overwhelming hunger gnawing at his insides, the unbearable emptiness that drove him to madness.
His feet scraped against the rocky ground as he pushed himself forward, his breathing erratic and desperate. The outside world, once a domain he ruled, was now alien and dangerous. He could barely move without stumbling, his legs giving out from under him every few feet. The world spun around him, blurry and out of focus, and his weakened body was fighting him at every turn.
Stumbling forward, Alaric moved toward the mouth of the cave, his steps unsteady, almost clumsy. Every few paces, his knees buckled, and he fell, his hands scraping against the rough stone as he struggled to push himself back up.
With a frustrated snarl, he continued on, tripping over rocks and uneven ground until he reached the entrance.His pale eyes searched the darkness beyond, with moonlight creating shadows across the landscape.
He didn't know where he was, didn't care. All he knew was the hunger gnawing at him, tearing through his body like a savage beast.
He began descending a steep hill, his bare feet slipping on the loose earth. His balance was off, his body still weak from centuries of imprisonment. And then, as if the universe itself conspired against him, his legs gave out beneath him. He tumbled down the hill, crashing into rocks and roots, his arms flailing wildly as he tried to stop his descent.
When he finally came to a stop at the base, his body ached from the fall, blood trickling from cuts and scrapes before quickly healing. He laid there for a moment, panting, staring up at the sky. And that's when he smelled it.
Blood.
His vision swam, but in the distance, something caught his eye—movement. A glint of light flickered in the moonlight. His pulse quickened, and he crawled toward it, his limbs dragging against the dirt. Each step was agony, but the hunger was worse.
The body lay crumpled near the base of a tree, twisted and broken, as if it had been thrown aside by something far larger than itself. Alaric's vision cleared, the moonlight casting a glow over the mangled form.
The figure had been mutilated beyond recognition, its limbs bent at unnatural angles, the flesh torn and shredded. Blood soaked the ground beneath it, pooling around the body in dark, glistening puddles. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, thick and metallic.
Alaric's stomach twisted, not with revulsion, but with hunger.
He crawled closer, his bloodied hands reaching out toward the corpse, his fingers trembling with anticipation. His mouth watered at the sight of the torn flesh, the exposed bones gleaming in the moonlight. He hadn't fed in centuries, not properly—not since they locked him away.
His lips parted as he leaned over the body, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He could smell it now, the sweet, coppery scent of blood. His hands gripped the cold, lifeless flesh, his nails digging into the torn muscle. He brought the arm to his mouth, his eyes wild with hunger.
And then he tore into it.
But the moment the taste hit his tongue, his stomach lurched.
He spat out the flesh, gagging in disgust. The taste was foul, rancid, nothing like the fresh, warm blood he craved. His throat tightened as bile rose in his mouth, and he scrambled back from the corpse, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Disgusting!" he snarled, his voice hoarse, raw with frustration. He glared at the lifeless body, his lips curling in revulsion.
His rage flared, hot and violent. He lashed out, kicking the corpse with all his strength, sending it flying across the ground. His chest heaved with fury, his fists clenched as the hunger still gnawed at him, mocking him.
"I need more!" he roared, his voice echoing into the empty night. But there was no answer, no relief from the hunger that tore through him.
He stood there, panting, his body trembling with exhaustion and anger. He would find what he needed, find something fresh, something alive. And when he did, the world would remember the monster it had once feared.
_______
Alaric stumbled from the edge of the forest, his weakened legs barely carrying him forward as he pushed through the thick underbrush. The gnawing hunger remained, relentless and insatiable, but it was the dull thrum of something else—something strange—that was pulling him towards them.
The air tasted different here. Metallic. Clean. And there was a low, steady hum that vibrated through the ground beneath his feet.
As he emerged from the trees, he found himself standing on something smooth and cold. The ground was black, wide, and flat, stretching far in both directions with strange yellow lines painted down its center. He'd never seen anything like it. It was unlike the dirt paths and cobblestone streets he remembered, alien and unnatural. He crouched down, running his fingers over the strange surface. It felt hard, almost like stone, but too smooth, too perfect.
A sudden movement in the distance caught his attention. He rose to his feet, his pale eyes narrowing as he tried to focus. A light. Blinding and intense, brighter than any lantern he had ever seen, was barreling toward him. It was fast, impossibly fast, and it grew larger with each passing second.
Alaric froze, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was witnessing. It was as if the sun itself had fallen from the sky, and now it was hurtling toward him. The light blazed, cutting through the darkness of the night like a knife, and with it came a terrible, deafening roar. His heart pounded in his chest as he instinctively took a step back, but his feet were heavy, rooted in place by his confusion and awe.
The light grew brighter, blinding him as it swallowed everything in its path. His eyes stung from its intensity, and he raised an arm to shield them, but the sound—the horrible, thunderous sound—made him wince. It was like the growl of some monstrous beast, mechanical and foreign, shaking the air with its fury. Alaric had never heard anything like it. It wasn't natural. It wasn't alive. What was this thing?
As the light came closer, he could just make out the shape behind it—a hulking mass of metal, gleaming and unnatural, with strange, round legs that didn't move. It didn't run. It didn't gallop. Yet it was flying down the black path toward him with terrifying speed. The wind around it seemed to bend, pushed aside by the sheer force of its movement, and Alaric's pulse quickened in his veins.
Was it a creature? Was it alive?
He backed up further, but it was too late. The monstrous light had already reached him. The roar grew louder—so loud it drowned out every other sound in the world. Alaric's body tensed, every instinct screaming at him to run, to flee, but he didn't know how to fight this thing, didn't know what it was.
And then, just when it seemed the blazing beast would devour him whole, the roar lessened, replaced by a sharp screeching sound, high-pitched and grating, as the metal behemoth jerked to a halt mere feet from where he stood. The light dimmed slightly, though it still burned his eyes, and the beast—no, the thing—sat there, unmoving but humming with power, its presence overwhelming and strange.
Alaric blinked, his breath caught in his throat. He stood before the monstrous thing, too stunned to move, the ground beneath him trembling from its unnatural energy. For a moment, neither he nor the creature moved. It simply loomed there, glaring at him with its blinding eyes, as if assessing him, waiting.
"What…" he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "What… are you?"
The only answer was the steady, mechanical hum that vibrated from the thing's body, filling the air with its strange, otherworldly presence.
Then, the light shifted. There was a click, followed by a low whirring noise. Alaric tensed, his heart hammering in his chest, prepared to fight with his weakened state . But instead of attacking, the beast's side… opened. The smooth metal split apart, and out stepped a figure.
A man.