The beast charged at him, thrusting out its filthy claws, with a speed its body shouldn’t have been capable. Thatch barely had time to even blink before the beast was within arms reach and could feel the urge to panic encroaching in his brain.

  ‘Fear’, an unusually calm part of his mind said, ‘ Its mere presence invokes fear. The loss of both courage and reason.’

  Though the blitzing speed was incredible, it didn’t fight like a human and the young man could predict its path. It swung its thin arm forward with deceptive strength. Thatch tried to duck under the swipe, but the claws were longer than they appeared and one caught him across the cheek. Through the pain Thatch desperately slashed the knife across its midriff in between the ribs, making the monster shriek in angered pain. The creature backed a safe distance away. For a moment, man and demon stared at one another. Thatch held the knife steadily as he could through the shaking of fear and adrenaline.

  Running its hand over the wound, an unnaturally prehensile tongue slid from the monster's mouth to taste its own blood. Despite the injury, the monster made an odd growling sound, as if it were pleased with something.

  ‘Hunger. Its primary motivation is hunger. But not just hunger. Starvation. To the point nothing can satisfy it.”

  The demon began convulsing and loud snapping came from its body. It was still painfully thin, but a layer of compacted muscle was now rippling beneath its gray skin. Rather than recklessly attack him a second time, the demon began circling Thatch, looking for an opening. Thatch didn’t take his yellow eyes off the skinny demon for a second, but had to narrow them from the light of the dawn. In a snap moment of inspiration the young man turned the knife to catch the glint of the rising sun, making the monster raise its hand in front of its face in surprise at the sudden blindness. Capitalizing on the surprise, Thatch dashed before the monster fully raised its arms. He thrust the knife forward to aim for a vital organ. Within striking distance, the monster’s ears twitched and it leapt backwards, before shifting its stance and punching Thatch into a tree that he smacked against. The impact forced a raking gasp from his mouth and he stumbled on his feet as his vision swam

  ‘Sadism’, the calm part of his mind thought through the dizziness, ‘Not just motivated by the urge to hunt. It desires to see a true victim lose its will to live.’

  Rolling away at the last second, Thatch avoided having his head smashed as the monster brought its fist down. Standing at the ready, hunter and prey, though either would be unsure of which was which, eyed each other with caution and the desire to kill. A particular idea that revolted Thatch ran through his mind, but looking at the demon that he knew was toying with him, he knew he had no other choice. Thatch suddenly raised his hand at the monster and focused.

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  ‘With no desire to cause suffering, it’s nothing more than a wild animal.’

  Closing his eyes and breathing in, scent of death and all:

  There is nothing.

  The world does not exist.

  People do not exist.

  There is only your objective and the obstacles that stand in the way of completing it.

  You do not feel.

  You do not think.

  You simply…Destroy

  Clenching his fist, the monster suddenly fell to its knees, clutching its chest like it was having a heart attack. Aside from the slash on its ribs, there wasn’t a mark on its starving body. It let out a shriek again, but rather than being intimidating, instead it sounded like any other creature would when grievously wounded. Despite the agony the creature was experiencing, Thatch could see its ears twitching in a certain direction and through its labored breathing he could hear it inhale, picking up a scent.

  Lowering itself onto all fours, the monster turned tail and began galloping out of the clearing. A wounded animal was always highly dangerous. A wounded animal that felt it’s being trapped would be dangerous and unpredictable. Two things Thatch definitely wanted to avoid. Despite the monster’s terrifying ability to cloak its presence, stemming its wounded thorax didn’t seem to be an ability it possessed, and tracking the drops of blood made it that much easier.

  As Thatch pursued close behind the wounded demon, the theory that he could be led into a trap crossed his mind, but he discarded it. This elk-man demon wasn’t stupid, but a level of human intelligence to prepare a trap was likely above it. The demon was also in too much pain from whatever he did to it. But what most stood out to Thatch was what he saw before the demon retreated. Its ears twitching, the clear sound of it sniffing the air. There was an easier target somewhere in the woods. Something that would provide the demon with an easier meal.

  ‘No, not something’, Thatch theorized.

  Up in the distance, Thatch heard someone screaming. Multiple someones screaming, followed quickly by the chilling sound of the demon's screaming roar.

  Tiny splatters on the leaves led him through the forest but it was unnecessary as the clash of battle was growing nearer with every bounding step. From where he was running, a peculiar feeling spread throughout Thatch’s senses. He wasn’t sure how, but he could feel the monster. The ravenous Hunger and its accompanying bottomless Greed. Much more faint than before, he could feel its Sadism and the fractures within it. Right now, the monster was barely more than any other wild animal that was half dead from starvation. All of which led to des-

  ‘So that’s what your core concept is’, Thatch realized before what could have passed for satisfaction bloomed within him.