Dreadfang Cursed Heir

Chapter 3

CELINE’S POV.

The moment his hand touches me, something inside me snap. A surge of raw power rushing through my veins, and I feel my control slipping away. My skin feels too tight, my muscles straining as the transformation begins to take hold. The fear that I felt a moment ago is replaced with something darker, something that has been lurking inside me all day long, just waiting for the moment to unleash.

“Let go of me,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous, but the words barely sounds human. The man freezes, his eyes widening as he looks at me, really looks at me for the first time.

“What the hell,” he mutters, his grip loosening just enough for me to pull free. But its too late for them now, my transformation has begun and there is no stopping it. Pain rips through my body, more intense than anything I have ever felt before. It feels like fire coursing through my veins, burning me from the inside out. My bones crack, splintering and reforming with sickening pops that echo through the forest. I fall to the ground, clutching at the earth as my muscles tear and reshape, my body converting into something monstrous.

I try to scream, but the sound that comes out is a guttural roar, nothing human about it. My visions suddenly blurs, my senses exploding into overdrive as the world around me shifts, sharpens, becoming too loud. Every scent, every sound, every flicker of movements is amplified a thousandfold, overwhelming me. My skin begins to stretch and tear, fur sprouting in its place as my hands twist into clawed, deadly weapons. I can feel my teeth lengthening, sharpening into fangs that could tear through flesh like butter.

The transformation is brutal, every second an agony that I can’t escape. My consciousness flickers, teetering on the edge of something wild and feral, something that isn’t me. The men stumble back horror etched across their faces, as they watch me change. One if them turns to run, but he doesn’t get far, the primal instinct within me takes over, driving me to my feet, faster and more powerful than I have ever been before.

I can feel the wildness surging through me, the trill of hunt, the desire to tear, to rend, and to destroy.

“W… what are you?!” one of the men screams, but I barely understand his words. The beast inside me is in control now, and all I know is the urge to protect, and to defend myself from the threat that they pose. With a snarl, I lunge forward, my claws slashing through the air. The first man goes down with a gurgling scream, his blood spraying across the forest floor. The sight, the smell, the feel of it only drives the beast inside me further, pushing me beyond point of no return.

The other two try to run, their panic making them clumsy, and slow. I’m on them in an instant, the primal urge to hunt and kill overwhelming any last vestiges of humanity within me. my claws tears through their flesh, bones snapping beneath the force of my blows. Their screams are short lived, quickly silenced as I end their lives with brutal efficiency.

The forest is still and silent, the air thick with the scent of blood and earth. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my body trembling in exhaustion and the aftermath of the transformation. The adrenaline that fueled my feral rage is gone, leaving me weak, unsteady on my feet. My vision swims, the world around me fading in and out of focus as the toll of the night finally catches up with me.

I stagger backwards, my limbs heavy and uncoordinated until I collapse against a tree, my legs giving out beneath me. My back scrapes against the rough ark of the tree, but I barely feel it. The pain of the transformations still lingers, dull and throbbing in my bones, my muscles, and in my veery soul. I can’t keep my eyes any longer, the world is spinning around me in a dizzying blur. I close my eyes, the darkness closing in like a blanket, and I let it take me. Sleep drags me down into its depths, mercifully pulling me away from the horror of what I have done.

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the cold. It seeps into my bones making me shiver uncontrollably as I slowly regain consciousness. My head aches, a dull pounding that echoes through my skull, and my body feels stiff, sore, as if I have been beaten and left to rot. I groan, shifting slightly, and that’s when I feel it something wet and sticky on my skin, clinging to me like a second layer.

My eyes snap wide open, and immediately I’m hit by a wave of nausea as the world comes into focus. The first thing I see is the blood, dark almost black in the faint morning light, staining my hands, my arms, my nails, and my clothes. Its everywhere, caked under my nail, smeared across my skin, soaking into the tattered remnants of my dress. My heart lurches, a sickening dread curling in my stomach as the memories start to come back, hazy and disjointed, like a nightmare I can’t quite shake off.

I push myself up, every muscle protesting the movement, and that’s when I see the bodies. lie scattered across the forest floor, broken, twisted, and lifeless. The men who had tried to corner me, who had taunted me now are nothing more than corpses. Their blood staining the earth around them their faces frozen in terror.

A choked sob escapes my throat as I scramble back, away from the horrifying sight. My hand shake uncontrollably, the reality of what I have done clashing down on me like a tidal wave, I can barely breathe, my chest tightening with panic, my mind reeling with sheer horror of it all. This cant be real this has to be a nightmare, some terrible twisted dream. I pinch myself to be sure I’m not dreaming. But the blood on my hands smells fresh, its warm and sticky, the ,Metallic scent filling my nostrils and I know this is not a dream.

I did this!

The realization hits me like a punch in the gut, knocking the wind of me. I killed them. Tore them apart with my bare hands, reveling in their screams, their pain, and their fear. The memory is there, lurking in the back of my mind, a shadowy fractured thing that I can’t fully grasp. I know deep down it was me. The beast inside me took control, and I let it win. I became the monster that they feared.

My stomach turns, and I gag, bile rising in my throat. I barely manage to crawl away before I’m vomiting,

Retching violently into the dirt, my body rejecting the horror of what I have done, tears bur my vision, hot and stinging as they stream down my face, mixing with the blood and dirt. I can’t stop shaking, I can’t stop the sobs that wrack my body, and I can’t stop the overwhelming sense of guilt and shame that threatens to drown me. When I finally collapse back against the tree, I’m left shivering, weak and utterly broken. My clothes are ripped to shreds, barely hanging on to my battered frame, and I can feel the cold morning air biting into my skin. My mind is a mess, a jumble of half remembered images and sensations, all of them terrible all of them mine. I killed them. Theres no denying it, no running from it.

The evidence is all around me, the blood on my hands, the bodies on my feet, and the hollow ache in my chest where my humanity used to be. I can’t go back to the village. Not like this. Not with the knowledge that I’m a killer, a monster. The people there they have known me my whole life, and if they know they will hunt me down like the beast that I am, and maybe they have the right to do so.

I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself in a futile attempt to find some comfort, some warmth. But there’s nothing left for me here, nothing but the cold, the blood, and the empty feeling inside. I’m alone. Truly, completely alone. The sun is starting to rise, its light filtering through the trees, castling long shadows across the ground. I watch it, feeling a hollow kind of dread settle over me. It’s a new day, and nothing will ever be the same again. I can’t stay here. I need to run, to hide, find somewhere far away from the village, from anyone who might recognize me. I need to disappear before they find out what I have done.