Claimed By The Beast

I was knee deep in mud that was colder than it had any right to be, the wet seep of it soaked my pants, biting into my knees as if the forest itself was trying to tell me I didn’t belong here. Twilight curled through the forest in thin ribbons, the damp air curling at the back of my throat like a name I should not speak. My brush scraped at the filth and grime that had clung to the slab throughout the years, revealing a clean polished jet of black stone. Strange symbols lined its edges etched with cold veins of petrified light. My breath caught as I ran my gloved hands through it, relishing the chill I felt. "Doctor Vance!" I nearly jumped at the sound of my assistant's voice as he slid down the shallow trench at my side. Mud clung to his pants in thick ropes as he landed next to me, his eyes wide with the thrill of youth. "There's something beneath the slab, doctor," He whispered, his voice shaking with a strange emotion as his eyes locked onto the dark object nestled between the roots of the trees at the edge of the trench. "Something hollow...and light." I turned to him as he pointed at the slab, his lantern casting long, twisting shadows along the walls of the trench, making them writhe like snakes. "What do you mean, light?" I asked as I freed my knees from the dirt and stood. It was more of a demand than a question, although I wished I could take it back as soon as the words left my mouth. The sight of the trench at the end of the slab made my heart pound in my throat. There it was, at the end of it all, framed by the roots of the trees, some kind of alien device. As smooth as glass but impossibly strong, this strange relic caught the light of the lantern in regular pulses. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at it, my fingers twitching at my sides. Some deep, cavernous part of me screamed at me to reach out and touch it. The sound of my own gasp startled me as I tore my gaze from the object to shake myself. "Marcus," I said his name as I stepped to him, "don't touch it." Already I could see the hunger in his eyes as he drew closer to the object. "It's just a relic, doctor," He said as he knelt and ghosted his fingers over the material of the strange artifact. "We've touched far worse things than this before." "Marcus Hale, I gave you an order." I snapped at him. His fingers skimmed the surface of the device for the second time, and nothing happened. Then the light in it inhaled, and the world ripped itself apart. I dropped to my knees, gasping, as the artifact flared to life. Its folds of strange material practically glowed as the light poured from it in thick folds, forcing me to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness. Something deep in my chest wrenched as the light bore into me, stealing the breath from my lungs, and I found myself screaming silently as the darkness swallowed it all whole. When it finally died, the night consumed the cavern once again, and I lowered my hand to my side, blinking furiously. Slowly, I turned my head, my heart ceasing in my chest at the sight that met my eyes. Marcus was gone, and if it weren't for the strange relic, I would have thought he'd simply vanished into thin air. There was no scorched patch of earth, no struggle, not even so much as an impression where he'd stood. Even his lantern, which had rolled to a stop at the base of one of the trees, swayed gently in the wind. I turned my head, my lungs finally releasing the air that was stolen from them moments ago. The air smelled of burnt hair, and I blinked again, turning my head to the side as I looked at the strange artifact, now dark and silent. It was over, and something deep inside me whispered that it wasn't done yet. Some unseen weight, some foreign pressure, settled in my chest, pressing against my ribs. My heart beat as if there were something in there with it. Slowly, I pulled myself up, the words coming out somewhere between a whisper and a demand. "Everyone, leave the trench, now," I snapped as the archaeologists- Bron, Lira, and Aldus, the others besides Marcus - stumbled back in shock. Their faces were pale and their eyes were wide with fright as Bron began to speak, asking me what the problem was, but I raised a hand, and the sound of his tongue stopping was music to my ears. "Marcus is gone, we can't help him. Either we leave now, or we join him. Bron, take the lanterns. Lira, take the logbook, leave everything else." They did as I asked without another word, and I climbed out last, the feeling of the ground moving beneath me making me feel as if I'd shaken something loose. It was like the earth itself had moved, its vibrations massaging at my bones, picking at my nerves. Some distant part of me heard a howl that tore through the night. A second howl followed, then a third howl until the air was a chorus of wild, keening voices. A few minutes later, silence enveloped the forest. Something was coming, I could feel it in the wetness of the ground, in the tenseness of the air. It started with the shadows, thick and inky tendrils sliding from the depths of the trees, swallowing the dim light from the lanterns. Then came the smell, the musky scent of pine needles mingling with something metallic and coppery. Then something else, something burning. It came next, that strange sensation that prickled at the very edges of my senses, making me feel as if the forest were peering at me through the darkness. Then it emerged. I don't know what it was, but I know that it moved like something on four legs, great and lumbering as it pushed itself forward through the underbrush. The ground trembled at its movements, or maybe it was my imagination, I wasn’t sure. I could see its eyes, or rather feel them as they fixed upon me. It opened its eyes. They were red, the color of the molten lava, radiant with a cold intelligence that cut through the twilight, pinning me where I stood. The wolf -it was a wolf- stared at me before a deep growl emanated from its throat, but it sounded contained, curling around my ribs like ivy, winding its way up my spine until it bloomed in the depths of my skull. "You have touched what does not belong to mortal hands, little mortal," said the voice, smooth and rich as honeyed wine. It vibrated through my bones, and I could feel the press of it in the air around me. "Now you belong to the king."