 Christina Walsh stood anxiously in the living room of a pleasant, somewhat rustic suburban house. And despite how familiar her surroundings seemed, she felt on edge. From the corners of her eyes, she could see it. Currently, it was standing on the other side of the windows, leering in at her, sometimes drawing closer, sometimes keeping its distance, toying with me. The thought sent a chill through her. She thought about Marcus, God, Marcus. Going hiking had been her idea. It seemed like a good way to spend some quality time with Marcus, get out of the house, clear her head, and maybe get some musical inspiration to strike all while getting a little more in shape. While she was hardly out of shape, she couldn't help but think that she could stand to lose a few more pounds around her tummy. Marcus had never complained. But then again, Marcus wasn't the judgmental type. He had also been six foot four with the body of a Greek God. And compared to that, it was hard not to feel a little self conscious. Still, sitting behind a piano most days, working on and off on a small time music career, wasn't exactly the most physically active job. It was a luxury afforded to her by the fact that her parents had done well enough for themselves that at 21, she'd been fortunate enough to not have to think too hard about a real job just yet. She had her college courses, sure. But none of that grabbed her the same way that music did or Marcus for that matter, which of course led to the hiking. Marcus had been more than eager to go out with her. And of course, he even knew a few good trails. They'd started on some easy ones close to home before getting more adventurous, and the hikes really were everything she'd hoped they'd be. She felt better and was sure that the music she wrote was better too. At one point, she'd started integrating the sounds of running water and chirping birds into her music, creating these soothing, peaceful piano melodies that had seen her some success. Her following online had almost doubled in the three months since she'd started doing that. Then things changed. She didn't know why. She didn't know if she'd made some sort of mistake, or if she'd simply attracted something's attention through simple bad luck. But she'd become aware that something was following her. She started seeing it at night. A shadowy figure standing in the street outside her bedroom window. He was never quite in the light, but she could make out dirty mud-stained jeans and eyes that seemed to glow like a cat. Every night, she could have sworn that it was getting just a little bit closer. And then there were the gifts. She'd started finding them on her front door or on the hood of the car, piles of clean white teeth, animal bones placed with purpose as if to let her know that something had been there. After a few days, she'd started finding them in the house, a squirrel skull in her dresser, tiny animal bones in her bathroom sink drain, and what she was sure were human teeth under her bedsheets. She'd called the police, of course, but they'd been all but useless. Even with a cruiser parked outside her house, they'd still not seen the surreal man standing on her lawn. He seemed to be closer than he was before. Rune-like tattoos covered his bare chest. His jeans were dirty and covered in mud. His hair was long and disheveled, and his hands, they barely seemed to have any flesh on them. Even from her window, she could see the bare white bone. She'd yet to see his face at that point, but she knew she didn't want to. It wasn't long after she found the teeth that she'd broken and confided in Marcus. She'd expected him to write her off as crazy. Instead, as she'd spoken, the color had slowly drained out of his face. His eyes had grown wider and wider in a look of fear that looked so foreign on his face. Marcus, being the tall black Adonis that he was, was the sort of man people made a point not to piss off on instinct. With a deep booming voice and chiseled features, he was an intimidating-looking man. Never mind the fact that he was easily one of the sweetest and most soft-spoken people that Christina had ever met, or the fact that she'd watched him cry like a baby while holding a kitten once because it was too cute. He looked scary, and he was not a man who was easy to scare. Seeing such abject terror on his face only cemented the fear that she felt, as did the words he said. You see him too? He told her that night that he'd been seeing the same man outside of his window. He told her about how he'd simply disappear every time Marcus had tried to confront him, and he'd told her about the bones he'd found, teeth, ribs, skulls, and once what appeared to have once been a raccoon, although it had been ripped apart so violently that he couldn't identify it with any certainty. They'd looked for an answer together, but there was none to be found. All the while, the tattooed man seemed to follow them everywhere. Christina would see him standing in the hallway of her house, and Marcus would later tell her that he saw him that very same night lurking in his backyard. It wasn't until two nights ago that things had reached their peak. She'd found out about the attack from one of Marcus's roommates. Supposedly, they'd been woken up by a crash and had found Marcus on the front lawn, covered in blood. He jumped out his window and cut himself badly. That he'd survived was nothing short of a miracle. Neither the police nor the doctors had gotten a coherent statement out of him, and Christina had only seen him once since then. But the look in his eyes, the abject terror and the jagged claw marks on his arms and face, told her everything she needed to know. The tattooed man had come for him. They both knew that he was lucky to be alive, and they both knew that in time he would come for her. And she had no idea how to stop it. Christina had done the only thing a desperate woman could do. She'd taken to posting on some of the more obscure occult forums begging for help, and the day after Marcus's attack, she'd redoubled her efforts. It was one of those forums that had led her here, to Dr. Caroline Vega. Dr. Vega lived outside of Tevum Sound, a good two-hour drive from where Christina lived. But if Vega was half as capable as what the stranger on the forums had said, then maybe it would be worth it. They'd simply sent her to a simple website, supposedly set up by Dr. Vega herself. According to that website, Dr. Vega was capable of removing curses, dispersing spirits, and crafting protective charms. It seemed like some fairly run-of-the-mill occult horseshit. The only thing on that website that looked remotely credible was a page that mentioned how Dr. Vega had offered several seemingly respectable papers on botany, and the medical uses of certain herbs. Christina didn't exactly have a lot of other options, but if she had to trust a self-proclaimed practitioner of magic, then at least she was trusting the one who had a PhD, even if it was in botany. That was what led her here. A young woman had answered the door when Christina had arrived and led her to the living room to wait. Said living room admittedly did look pleasant and comfortable. The walls were decorated with a few detailed drawings of plants. In a large bookcase along the far wall, contained a number of books related to herbal medicine and identifying wild plants. Although there was one shelf that seemed dedicated to romance novels, she could hear other people moving around the house, and occasionally she heard other voices. They were almost all female. At one point, she saw three young women and one clean-cut young man, all somewhere around their 20s, passing by the living room to head outside. Her eyes fixated on the visage of the tattooed man standing in the street, although the passing strangers briefly blocked him from her line of sight as they all headed towards the nearby woods. Christina watched them go curious as to just what they were doing before her attention returned to the spot where the tattooed man had been. He was gone now, but she knew she could still feel his eyes on her. You must be Christina. The voice behind her made her jump, and she turned around to see a tall woman somewhere in her 30s standing in a doorway behind her. Her hair was red and worn in a bob cut. She wore wire-rimmed glasses, and her dress showed quite a bit of leg. Christina recognized her from the picture on her website. Yeah, you must be Dr. Vega, right? Please, my friends call me Caroline. She said, as she offered Christina a hand to shake. Why don't you step into my office and we'll see if I can't find a cure for what ails you? Christina smiled anxiously before nodding and letting Dr. Vega lead the way. I hope my students weren't bothering you. She said, I try to keep my home open to them. I have some extra bedrooms that I offer. Not everyone can afford to both pay tuition and to rent a place to stay, you know. But I'd like to help out where I can. No, no, not at all. Christina replied, you teach? At Upper Lake University in town, I supervise the plant biology program. It's actually quite rewarding work. I've been doing this for as long as I can remember, so it's rewarding to just sit back and try to teach the next generation for a while. How long have you been into plants? Christina asked as she stepped through the door into Dr. Vega's office. She caught a sly grin on the woman's cherry red lips. I really couldn't tell you. For as long as I've been alive, I suppose. Ah, but I'm willing to guess you're not here to talk about plants. She said before gesturing to a seat on the other side of a wooden desk, she took her own seat in a sturdy looking office chair. No, Christina replied as she sat down. I'm your website said that you know a thing or two about spirits or curses. Darling, I'm probably one of the few people in this world that you can consider an expert on the subject. Vega replied. Her upbeat tone had darkened a little into something more serious. I assume you're seeking something. Christina opened her mouth to speak before she finally nodded. Have you gotten a good look at it? Can you describe it to me? It's it's a man. She said softly. He's tall. He has long hair, long black hair. He has these tattoos all along his chest, like runes or veins in his hands. They look skeletal. Dr. Vega offered. Christina nodded. She noticed Vega's brow furrow. I see. How long have you been seeing him for? Almost a month. At first, I only saw him at night and at a distance, but now now he's everywhere. He's been leaving things to bones, teeth. I've been finding them in my house. And the other night, I think he attacked my boyfriend. He was seeing him too. Your boyfriend. Is he still alive? Her tone was matter of fact enough to leave a pit in Christina's stomach. She nodded. Is he in the hospital or at home? He's in the hospital. I saw him yesterday. Is he going to be okay? If he's not dead yet, then yes, I may well be able to help both of you, but it will. Well, it won't be entirely easy. I'm familiar with the entity you've described. Most of my texts refer to him as Lemuel. He's an old one. Older than me even. He's dangerous too. But can we get rid of it? Christina asked, desperation creeping into her voice. You can drive it off. Yes. I know of a way to wound creatures like that. It won't kill him. Things like that don't tend to die, but they don't handle pain well. Find a way to harm one. And they'll draw back and flee like a wounded animal. But you'll need to act quickly. There's no set time limit on how long Lemuel toys with his prey. But it sounds as if neither you nor your boyfriend have much time left. Her words sent a shiver through her. The thought of that thing, Lemuel, coming back for Marcus turned her stomach. She knew he wouldn't survive a second encounter with it. And she doubted she'd even be able to survive her first. What do I need to do? Christina asked quietly and watched as Dr. Vega rose from her seat. She made her way over to a cabinet pressed against one wall and opened it from inside. She took out a mortar and pestle along with a glass jar. Christina could see small black shapes entangled in thick webbing, crawling lazily around inside of the jar. And she felt her skin crawl as she realized that it was filled with spiders, black widows judging by the red mark on their bellies. Vega set her things down on the desk before she sat down again. What you'll need to do is pierce his heart, although that's far easier said than done. With an entity like that, only a weapon enchanted with the correct rune will be able to touch him. And you'll require a unique poison to truly wound him. She opened the jar and dipped her hand inside, plucking one of the sluggish spiders from their web. Christina flinched, watching as the arachnid squirmed and kicked its little legs. She could see it desperately sinking its fangs into her fingers. Dr. Vega didn't even flinch, as if she hadn't even noticed that she'd been bitten. She simply dropped the spider into the mortar and plucked two more out of the jar to join it. Christina could see strange symbols carved into the stone on the outside of the mortar, and she could see even more carved out of the body of the pestle. She watched as Vega picked it up and brought it down upon the confused spiders before they could crawl free of their prison, crushing them into a smear of twitching limbs and pulpy innards. Three venomous spiders, three drops of your blood, and the petal of a rose. Vega said softly, her eyes shifting back up towards Christina. You can find a rose bush in my garden out back. Would you be so kind as to fetch it for me? Christina nodded slowly before getting up. She felt all too happy to leave that office, and Dr. Vega behind for a moment. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been until she stood up. As she stepped out of the office, she spotted the tattooed man, Lemuel, watching her through the window. Behind his blackened lips, she could see dirty, yellow teeth that looked impossibly sharp. His eyes followed her through the living room, and she tried not to look at him, her heart racing all the while as she found her way through the house and out back. Caroline Vega's backyard was large and splendid. In better times, Christina might have bothered to admire it. The beautifully cut hedges, the colorful and exotic flowers that bloomed in well-tended gardens, but her mind was elsewhere. It didn't take her long to find the rose bush. It stood out in one of the flower gardens near the center of the backyard. She plucked a single rose from it, before anxiously scurrying back inside, lest the tattooed man catch her out there. Some part of her was almost just as afraid to return to Dr. Vega. At least she could clearly see exactly what the tattooed man was. With Dr. Vega, she wasn't quite sure, having watched her stick her hand into a jar of spiders, as if it were the most natural thing in the world had given her pause. She didn't know yet if the stranger she'd sought out was the real deal or not, but most grifters would have stopped short of crushing venomous spiders into paste. Whatever she was, at least Vega seemed genuinely inclined towards helping her. Returning to the office, she saw Dr. Vega waiting patiently for her behind the desk. An iron dagger now sat on that desk beside the mortar, which was filled with the pulpy remains of the three spiders. The jar was gone, likely having been put back in the cupboard. Thank you, my dear. Vega said softly as she gently took the rose from Christina's hand. As she pulled it free, she let the stem run against her fingers. A thorn caught on her skin and left a shallow cut. Christina tried to jerk her hand back in pain, but Dr. Vega caught her by the wrist. We're going to need that, she said, before gently pulling Christina's hand over the mortar. Just relax. It's just a little scratch. Crimson blood trickled from the fresh cut on the side of her index figure before the first drop of blood fell into the mixture. It was followed by a second and then a third before Dr. Vega let her wrist go. There's a lot of power and blood. She said, it's perhaps one of the most personal things you can use in a spell like this. You'll need that for a poison like this. She gentrally plucked one petal away from the rose before setting it down onto her desk and grinding it into the mixture of spiders and blood. Then, when all that was left was a thick, dark maroon concoction, she took the pestle and ran some of it along the blade, her movements almost reverent. I should warn you up front, so much as cut a mortal man with something like this, you'll curse him with a slow and painful death. So be very careful with how you handle this blade. With the weapon coated in the mixture, she set it down on the table in front of Christina, then met her eyes. But it will wound anything that walks this earth, save for perhaps the gods. Slowly, Christina picked up the blade. She looked at it, then back at Vega. So I just need to cut him. A little cut will wound him, yes. It might just be enough, but I'd recommend you take no chances. Put it in his heart. It's the only way to be completely sure. She nodded before exhaling. I'm sure you've noticed the forest around here. They're thick and lonely. A good place for a creature like Lemuel. Why don't you go for a walk? I imagine he won't be inclined to let you leave without a fight. Her words sent another shiver through Christina and goose flesh rose upon her skin. However, as it did, she felt Dr. Vega's hand on her shoulder. It's okay to be afraid. But don't forget that you aren't defenseless. Not anymore. And I doubt that he'll realize it. Ominous as her words had been before. Now, they seemed almost comforting. Christina took one more look at Dr. Vega and then at the knife in her hand before she nodded. I'm not defenseless. She repeated. Dr. Vega walked with her towards the door, and when Christina stepped through it, she could feel her heart pounding with terror. But she walked towards the forest. The iron dagger clutched tightly in her hand. She could see movement behind the trees. She knew that the tattooed man was watching her, waiting for her. She wouldn't make him wait much longer. The forest swallowed her up as she went inside. She'd only been walking about 10 minutes or so before she looked back and couldn't see the place where she'd begun. How many stories have ended just as the hero goes to slay the monster? She thought to herself, how many of those heroes made it out alive? She tried to steady her breathing. But that seemed to be an impossible feat. She still clutched the dagger, knowing that her life depended on it. The forest around her was silent. No birds, no animals, only an ominous quiet that felt uncomfortably heavy. She closed her eyes and exhaled, trying to keep herself from panicking. But there really was no use. How many people has this thing killed? How many were stupid enough to charge into the woods for some suicidal final confrontation? She heard movement behind her and turned around. There was nothing as far as she could tell. She thought about Marcus and wondered if he was all right. In the back of her mind, she wondered if perhaps he was already dead. So many what ifs, so little time. More movement. The crack of branches. She spun around and saw his tall, lanky figure stalking through the trees. Animal eyes fixated on her. He moved like a pacing tiger, hungry for a meal. His hands little more than sinew and bone flexed like claws. He sized her up, preparing to come in for the kill. When he stopped, she raised the dagger and held it between them. As if it could save her. She could see him grinding his teeth. She could see the hunger in his eyes. But more than anything, there was the simple sadistic glee. He opened his mouth and the sound that he made, the unholy roar. It was deafening, an echoing scream that seemed to drone through her skull and reduce the tissue of her brain into quivering pulp. She wanted to retreat, but was too scared to move. And in that fear, the only reaction she could muster was to cry. Her legs were shaking. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she realized that she was standing against something that not only could rip her limb from bloody limb, but something that would take such immense satisfaction in doing so, that it would savor her death. It would savor every ounce of pain it wrung from her screaming broken carcass, denying her the pleasure of death until the last possible moment. The tattooed man fixed her in its gaze again, grinning from ear to ear before it drew closer to her. No. Christina sobbed as it came. She stumbled backwards, losing her nerve. She only made it a few steps before she fell. A rock half buried in the ground sent her down a slight incline and she crashed hard out of the ground. The knife slipped from her hand as the tattooed man drew nearer to her, falling onto all force and crawling at her like a twisted, only vaguely humanoid animal. It leered at her from the top of the incline she'd carelessly toppled off of before darting towards her like a reptile. Its linky, emaciated body crawled over hers. Water dripped from its body. Its breath flooded her nostrils, stinking of a rotting meat. It studied her, savored her frightened tears. Knowing that it had her, it leaned closer and ran a black tongue along the bare skin of her neck, leaving squirming maggots in the trail of saliva it left behind. She could feel it deciding where it would begin to rip her apart at the seams. And against her fingers, she could feel the iron of the knife lying on the ground just within reach. Christina closed her eyes as she grabbed it, knowing that she'd be dead before she could save herself, but determined to make her last act one of defiance. She brought the knife towards the chest of the tattooed man and drove it right through his ribs. The creature screamed an ear splitting sound that was like shattered glass and nails on a chalkboard. It leapt back clawing at the dagger in its chest, eyes wide in pain and anger. Christina opened her eyes again and watched as it scrambled away from her, writhing like the spiders that Dr. Vega had crushed to make the toxin that now coursed through its veins. The wound in its chest looked black and necrotic, though the creature wasn't able to remove the blade. The dagger still seemed to snap in half. The handle fell onto the forest floor, corroded and rotten, as if the poison had eaten away at the metal. The blade itself remained lodged in its chest, barely visible amongst the copious black blood that dribbled out of the wound. The tattooed man fixed her in a gaze and Christina half expected to see a new found rage there. Instead, she saw confusion. She saw fear. This was a predator that was not used to pain. It was not used to being hurt. It seemed to back away from her and Christina did the same to it. She dragged herself backward before picking herself up and breaking into a run. The screams of the tattooed man followed her, but when next she looked back, she saw the creature itself still on the ground, desperately trying to pull the broken blade from its chest as it crawled deeper into the woods. All the same. Christina didn't stop running. She didn't let herself stop until she saw the suburbs of Tevem sound again. And when at last she stood under the bright sunlight again, she fell to her knees, wrapped her arms around herself, and cried. The screams of the tattooed man faded into the distance. Those were screams that she'd forever hear in her nightmares. But the creature that had hunted her fled into the darkness of the woods. And as it did, she allowed herself to feel the smallest amount of hope that it would not return. It was almost a month before she returned there, a month that had gone by without finding teeth in her bed or seeing shapes waiting outside of her window. She'd asked Marcus every so often if he'd seen anything, but he would always promise her that he hadn't. The look of quiet relief in his eyes when he said that made her believe him. Dr. Vega had told her that she wasn't interested in payment when they'd last spoken. You can't put a price on these kinds of things. She'd said, Those who seek me out are usually desperate. I'm well enough off as I am right now without praying on the desperate. There's no charge. Just stay safe. Spread the word. Christina had promised her that she'd do just that. But that hadn't been quite enough for her. She hadn't been able to get Dr. Vega out of her mind since the day they'd met. Somehow this woman understood things that most people never would. She'd chosen to use that knowledge to help those in need. It seemed awfully noble, a hell of a lot more noble than a music career, which hardly seemed that exciting after surviving being hunted by some sort of monster. So Christina had told Marcus that she'd be gone for a day or two and taken the drive back up there. Dr. Vega was a teacher after all. Maybe she'd have room for another student.