The road leading out of Duskhaven stretched ahead, lined with bare trees and patches of frost-covered grass. The early morning chill hung in the air, biting at Arlan's fingers as he walked with the group. He tucked his hands deeper into his cloak, absently feeling the familiar weight of Bones curled inside.
A normal hunt. That's all this was supposed to be.
But Arlan had learned one thing in the past few weeks—nothing was ever simple.
Tomas walked beside him, stretching his arms. "So, what's the plan? We get there, find the ghoul, and kill it?"
"That's usually how these things work," Mira said dryly.
Leila adjusted her bowstring. "I don't like this. We never get ghoul hunts this close to town."
Beren cracked his knuckles. "Eh, we'll handle it. A ghoul's just a rotting bag of bones with claws."
Arlan wasn't so sure.
The last time he'd ignored a bad feeling, they'd uncovered the crypt.
And now, they were going back into something just as unknown.
The Ruins
The ruins stood at the edge of an overgrown field, half-buried in time and neglect. Weathered stone columns jutted from the earth like broken teeth, the remains of an old temple or watchtower. Weeds had overtaken most of the crumbling structure, twisting through the cracks and crevices.
The perfect hiding spot for something undead.
Leila scanned the area. "Tracks. Something's been moving through here."
Mira knelt beside a patch of disturbed dirt, running her fingers over the marks. "Deep prints. It's heavier than a normal ghoul."
Tomas unsheathed his sword. "Well, let's find it before it finds us."
Arlan's grip tightened inside his cloak. The air felt… wrong. Too still.
Bones clicked his teeth softly, shifting uneasily against Arlan's shoulder.
Then a shadow moved beneath the broken archway.
It stepped into the light.
Arlan had seen ghouls before—hunched, shriveled things that lurked in dungeons and feasted on carrion.
This was not a normal ghoul.
It was taller, with elongated limbs and stretched skin that clung too tightly to its bones. Its hollow eye sockets flickered with something unnatural, and its fingers ended in jagged, blackened claws.
It turned its head toward them, neck cracking unnaturally.
Then it lunged.
Tomas barely had time to raise his shield before the ghoul slammed into him, the force of impact sending him stumbling back.
Beren swung his axe in a powerful arc, aiming for the creature's torso—but the ghoul twisted, unnaturally fast, dodging the blow.
Leila fired an arrow—direct hit to the shoulder.
The ghoul didn't even flinch.
Mira raised her staff, chanting quickly. A burst of light magic flashed across the battlefield, hitting the ghoul square in the chest.
This time, it reeled back, hissing in pain.
Arlan took a step forward, heart pounding. This wasn't a mindless creature—it was aware. It was thinking.
The ghoul suddenly spun, targeting Leila.
She barely had time to react before it slashed at her with its claws.
Blood sprayed across the stone.
Leila gasped, stumbling back, her arm torn open.
"Leila!" Tomas shouted worriedly.
Mira rushed to her, already pulling out a healing potion.
Beren let out a furious roar and charged, bringing his axe down—this time, his strike connected. The blade sank deep into the ghoul's shoulder, forcing it to stagger.
Tomas followed up with a shield bash, knocking the creature off balance.
Arlan's pulse pounded.
He could just stand back. Let them handle it.
But Leila was hurt.
And this thing was fast.
He moved on instinct.
A flicker of shadow energy crackled to life in his palm, curling like black smoke.
The ghoul turned, sensing something different about him.
Arlan thrust his hand forward.
The shadow bolt lashed out—striking the ghoul directly in the chest.
The impact sent it staggering back, clawing at itself as tendrils of dark energy pulsed across its body.
It was weak to his magic.
The ghoul hissed, stumbling as the magic drained its strength.
Bones launched from Arlan's shoulder, latching onto the ghoul's arm with his skeletal teeth. The creature howled, trying to shake him off, but the little undead rodent held firm, digging his teeth deeper.
Arlan clenched his fists. Now.
Tomas didn't waste the opening—he drove his sword into the ghoul's chest.
Beren followed with a brutal swing of his axe, severing its head.
The ghoul collapsed.
Silence.
Bones scurried back to Arlan's shoulder, clicking his teeth proudly.
Mira pressed a cloth against Leila's wound, muttering a quick healing spell. "You'll be fine. Just a scratch."
Leila winced but managed a smirk. "Scratch? It nearly took my arm."
Tomas exhaled, rubbing his bruised shoulder. "That thing was not a normal ghoul."
Beren nudged the corpse with his boot. "What the hell was that?"
Arlan didn't answer.
Because he knew.
This wasn't over.
And it was only going to get worse.