In the middle of a freezing, empty land, Alvaris Eldgrim trudged through the snow until he finally reached the outskirts of a city. It had been a year since his powerful clan, the Eldgrim, had cast him out, forcing him to wander the icy wilderness of Greenland. Now, surrounded by the lights and distant sounds of civilization, he felt the weight of his past pulling on him just as much as the curse that gnawed at his mind. At 25, Alvaris was no longer just a man—he was a vessel of a curse that had changed him, leading him into a fate he couldn't avoid.
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Alvaris walks through the quiet streets of an unfamiliar city, lit only by a few flickering streetlights. His tall, lean figure wrapped in a heavy black cloak that trails behind him. His messy dark hair frames a face marked by sadness, and the dark circles under his bright blue eyes show the sleepless nights he has spent fighting his feelings. Wearing a simple dark tunic and worn-out trousers, he looks both mysterious and tired, as if the burden of his troubled past is heavy on his shoulders. Despite the cold air, there is a spark of determination in his eyes as he moves through the shadows.
His body tense as the hunger inside him grew. He'd fought it before, tried to control it, but this time it was too strong. Ahead of him, a woman walked slowly, her shoulders slumped, lost in thought.
"Easy pickings"
She was in her late twenties. Her long, dark hair framed a soft, pretty face, and though her green eyes were clouded by years of guilt, they still held a certain charm. She had a slim, well-proportioned figure and wore simple yet elegant clothes, hinting that she once cared more about her appearance. But he could feel her sadness, and it made his pulse quicken.
She noticed him too late. Panic flashed in her eyes, and she started to run. Alvaris chased after her, the hunger driving him forward. She stumbled down an alley, breathing hard, her steps frantic. He caught up, grabbing her arm. She fought back, pushing him with surprising strength, but it didn't last long. Her energy faded, and she collapsed against the wall, shaking.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered, her voice weak and full of regret. Alvaris hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering near her neck, but the hunger roared inside him. He tightened his grip. Her pulse was faint under his fingers, and she didn't resist anymore.
Her body jerked as he held her, her hands weakly trying to push him away, but it was no use. She stopped struggling, her eyes empty, accepting what was happening. Then, as she died, a flood of memories and emotions hit Alvaris. He saw her sitting in a hospital, signing a paper, making a choice she regretted every day since.
Alvaris let go, her body falling to the ground. He stumbled back, overwhelmed by the guilt that wasn't his—her guilt. She had carried it for years, and now it weighed on him too.
The hunger had faded, but now something worse filled him. He felt her guilt mixing with his own shame, making it hard to breathe. He stood there, shaking in the cold night air, but it wasn't the cold that made him tremble.
A heavy weight sat in his chest. He had taken more than just her life—he had absorbed her memories, her guilt, and it was suffocating. He tried to shake it off, but it clung to him like a thick fog.
He knelt beside the woman, feeling the cold ground through his knees. Her face looked peaceful now, but in his mind, he could still hear her last words, "I'm sorry…" They echoed over and over. He hadn't wanted this—not really—but the urge had been too strong, too overpowering. Now, the emptiness felt worse than before.
His fingers trembled as he reached out, lightly brushing her hand. It felt wrong, but he needed to feel something other than the guilt. He felt her pain, her regrets weighing him down, but what could he do? He was trapped in this endless cycle, always hungry, always taking.
He stood up, backing away from the body. His head spun with flashes of her life—bits of her memories she hadn't shared with anyone. He saw her sitting in a doctor's office, hands trembling as she signed a paper. He heard the cries of the child she would never have. Her guilt was sharp, like a blade, and it cut through him with each image.
He gritted his teeth, clutching his head. It's not my fault, he told himself, but the guilt didn't care. It seeped into him, filling every corner of his mind. He stumbled back, pressing himself against the alley wall, trying to steady his breathing.
For a moment, he thought about running—just leaving the city, disappearing into the night. But where would he go? No matter how far he ran, the hunger would follow him. The guilt would follow him.
He looked down at his hands, his stomach churning with disgust. How many more would he have to take? How many more lives would he ruin just to survive? The thought made him sick, but deep down, he knew there was no escaping it. He had to live with it.
The night was still cold, but he barely felt it. The only thing he could feel was the crushing guilt pressing down on him, suffocating him. The woman's guilt was now his, and it was eating him alive.
With a deep breath, Alvaris pushed himself away from the wall and started walking. He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't stay here. The hunger would return, and he would have to face it again. He just didn't know how much more he could take.
Alvaris sat in the cold alley, guilt heavy on his chest, but his mind drifted somewhere else—to a memory long buried.
It was the day his life fell apart. He was 24, nearly an adult in his clan, just a year away from the age of maturity. But instead of preparing for his future, he stood in silence as his brother was led away, sentenced to death. He had no idea why. No one told him. His brother was his only family, the only one who had cared for him after their parents died when he was seven. The clan elders didn't care, and neither did anyone else.
The execution had been swift and final. Alvaris stood in the snow, watching the cold eyes of his clan members, feeling their judgment like a blade. The pain of loss crushed him, but he wasn't allowed to cry. In the Eldgrim clan, emotions were buried deep, hidden away. It was the way of their people—"Guardians of Truth," they called themselves. Emotions, they believed, clouded judgment, and Alvaris had been taught to follow their path.
But after his brother's death, everything changed. The people who had once respected him turned their backs. The whispers started, rumors that he wasn't worthy. He became an outcast, shunned by everyone. Even the younger ones avoided him, afraid he carried the same "disgrace" that had led to his brother's death. Alvaris felt more alone than ever.
A year passed like this, cold and empty. On his 25th birthday—the day he became an adult—they called him to the elders. They told him he had no place in the clan, no future. He was to be expelled. No explanations, just orders. They stripped him of everything he knew, and he was cast out, sent into the storm of a harsh winter.
The memory of that snowstorm still haunted him. The wind howled as he trudged through the thick snow, barely able to see in front of him. It was cold—so cold it hurt to breathe. Every step felt heavier, like the weight of his failure and loss was dragging him down. He had no direction, no hope. He didn't know where he was going; he just walked, hoping for the cold to end everything.
Then, in the midst of the storm, he saw it—a small, injured wolf limping through the snow. It looked at him with calm, intelligent eyes. Alvaris kept walking, but the wolf followed. He didn't know why, but its presence was strangely comforting. They walked together in silence as the storm raged around them.
But the cold was too much. Alvaris felt his strength fade. He stumbled, collapsing into the snow, his body numb, his vision blurring. The last thing he saw was the wolf, standing over him, before everything went dark.
When he awoke, it wasn't in the snow, but in a strange place—a twisted, surreal temple built from stone and memories. He was no longer in the real world. He stood in a vast mental realm, where everything felt warped and hostile, as if the space itself was alive. It was there he realized the wolf was no ordinary creature. It was Shak, a cursed being, ancient and hungry, who had taken on the wolf's form.
Shak's voice echoed in the strange temple as they clashed. This was not a battle of fists but of wills—two minds locked in combat. Shak, powerful and unyielding, tried to overwhelm Alvaris, to devour his consciousness like he had done to countless others over the centuries. The temple around them seemed to shift and pulse with Shak's power, as if it were made of the souls he had consumed, trapping Alvaris in a nightmare.
Alvaris fought back with every ounce of strength he had, resisting the pull of Shak's dark hunger. But he was losing. He could feel his own sense of self slipping away, getting swallowed by the overwhelming force of the ancient creature. Just as Shak began to consume him, something unexpected happened.
In the real world, as the wolf's body stood over Alvaris's frozen corpse, a bolt of lightning from the storm struck the wolf directly. The shock jolted through Shak's physical form, sending waves of pain and weakness into the mental realm. Shak's hold on Alvaris faltered. For the first time, Alvaris felt an opening—a chance to fight back.
With the lightning weakening Shak, Alvaris surged forward in the mental space, turning the tables on his foe. Shak, now vulnerable, could no longer overpower him. In a final burst of willpower, Alvaris consumed Shak instead, swallowing his consciousness and taking on the immortality that had cursed him.
Back in the real world, Alvaris regained control of the wolf's body, which quickly shifted back into a human form—his form. But now, with Shak's curse inside him, Alvaris knew he was bound to the same hunger, the same endless cycle. Only now, it was his to bear.