The Silver Moon

[Artifex Felicis]

The moon was large tonight, hanging heavy in the sky. It hung there, orange with harvest.

The night was cold, most of the town of Theastern around the massive bonfire in the center of town. People were laughing and drinking, making merry as they cooked and drank their harvest. They had finished for the season, summer and fall finally. Grains and fruits and vegetables picked and stored, meat salted and stored underground for the long winter ahead. It as a happy, if small and mostly unknown town. This was the first year that the Sorie Trading Guild had deigned to show up, their representatives in the middle of the party and drinking as much as the others.

It was also the fourth or fifth year that Leon Timyon had made his way to the small town, far from Concordia forest where he made his home. Theastern was in a curious location, surrounded by mediocre farmlands for both farmers and livestock. There were no rivers large enough to float the heavy cargo ships of Corone fleet or the naval trading guilds. Beyond the exquisitely kept farmlands, deep and dark woods reigned. There were several trails, leading both south and north to larger cities, and the port that was Leon’s eventual destination. The Sorie Trading Guild was there for the same reason Leon was; they recognized how much more efficient going in a straight line, rather than around the forest was.

“Leon, my good friend!”

Not that the representative, a massive man with dark skin and scars crisscrossing his arms so much they looked shiny and silver. Leon knew the man, an old friend from when travels between the countries. Amon had signed onto the Sorie Trading Guild several years before, his expert battle prowess and sharp business mind making him a natural fit. Leon liked Amon, the friendship that forms from long travels and shared hardships. Despite his big potbelly though, he had no tolerance for alcohol, let along the strong stuff the Corone natives swilled like water. Amon introduced the cat boy to his ‘niece,’ a little scamp of a girl that could have been blown away by a stuff breeze in her poncho. Her name was Hawl Sorie, though Amon was suspeciously silent as to how she picked up that last name. She had sharp eyes, and a creepy tone in her voice that suggested she’d have been happy being burned alive. Leon bit the inside of his lip during the introductions. Nobody should ever be that chipper.

[Artifex Felicis]

People had begun to slow down as the moon loomed overhead, and shuffle back to homes to to the massive inn that stood in the center of town. It was the only building that truly stood out, a massive beautiful work of art that was built by an old monk of the citadel. Heavy doors, and thick fall,s delicate filigree throughout the entire woodwork depicting flowers and stories the monk had known. Leon pointed it out to Hawl, making up a small story about it as Amon slowly walked back to his caravan to sleep. Sleeping there, despite the invitation, was always too rich for Leon’s blood. They always extracted their dues either from time or simply returning a favor. He knew more than one acquaintance who was stuck in the Guild’s velvet grip.

“But what’s the long loopy vine do?” Hawl’s voice broke him out of his quick day dream.

“That’s… hops? It for beer, which you aren’t allowed to have.” Leon took a guess.

“And the horses?” Hawl didn’t seem to stop for breath.

“Maybe they were the original owners favorite horses?” It was another guess, and the cat boy could see where this was going.

“And the big spider?”

“What?”

“The big spider!”

“Hawl, that’s a sun, with rays coming out of it.”

“No it’s a spider, and it’s trying to eat a little man.”

“That’s a cloud..."

[Artifex Felicis]

He ended up having to physically carry the small girl into the tavern, plopping her down in the quiet room by a chair. They ordered food, his demeanor slowly adjusting to Hawl’s over chipper words. Their food was delivered by the innkeeper himself. Leon knew the man make a raw apple taste good, and it was his wife that kept people full and happy.

Around the two of them, things were beginning to quiet. It was a slow thing, the sort of creeping silence that is louder than words. Leon noticed it first, his ears upon his head twitching s they strained to pick up normal sounds. He had been in towns celebrating before; when that unspoken rule of staying quiet is universally lifted and people were free to laugh.

“And Aunt Jess knew him too! Though she always has this face like she ate a bar of soap whenever she talks about-“ Hawl chattered on, her small hands working at the venison on her plate. Leon wasn’t paying attention, watching as more and more eyes were focusing on their little table. They were the only outsiders here, though that wasn’t uncommon in the rural towns like Theastern. The two of them stuck out like sore thumbs amongst the practical and drably dressed local population.

A room full of eyes watching him was unnerving. He didn’t even realize he was staring at one older woman, her eyes unblinking. She was older, with well worn clothes suiting a craftsman. She didn’t break eye contact with Leon as a hand slowly wrapped around a small paring knife. She placed it carefully in her lap, the sharp blade cutting her skirt.

A hand, heavier than a brick, fell and squeezed Leon’s shoulder and took him out of his trance. The cat flinched automatically, looking up with hard eyes at the innkeeper. He was a kind enough man, the grand son or great grandson of the monk. His lips moved, one end drooping down like a discarded rind. Leon didn’t understand at first, but those ugly lips moved again, mouthing a word. The man’s eyes flicked to Hawl, and this time the Leon understood.

“(Move.)”

[Artifex Felicis]

Leon pushes his stool back, scrapping along the wooden ground with a screech. A massive paw peeled the hand off of his shoulder, every instinct in his body to just rip the man’s hand off at the wrist. The man stood impassively, swaying slightly from the forceful movement. He didn’t even acknowledge the curt nod that Leon offered him.

“Wha-“ Hawl’s mouth was full of her meal as Leon scooped her up and under one of his arms. She was practically light as a feather to him, unable to do more than wriggle. He took strong and confident strides towards the back of the bar. The barkeep moved to intercept him with a quick, jerky step, and Leon’s answer was a forceful shove. He was sent stumbling back, legs unable to find footing before stepping on a wet rag behind the bar. Leon and Hawl were already in the next room before they heard the crack.

Barrels of cheap ale ready to be watered down lined one side, three rows high. Each successive row resting on wooden planks in a ladder formation, with a rope contraption that would assist the barkeeper or his workers in getting the barrels on top down to ground level. . There was a fire going back her in what could only be the kitchen. A massive iron wheel was over it, burnt venison making ugly smoke with the barkeeper’s wife staring at them. Hawl stared back, blinking and squirming under Leon’s arm as he didn’t give her a second glance. Leon’s foot undid the latch holding the back door open with a loud bang; Hawl flinched in his grip as the barkeeper’s wife raised an ugly metal spit with flecks of burnt venison still on it.

The woman never got a chance to act. The hunter dropped Hawl, claws separating her arm from her body at the shoulder. The girl landed with a thump on the ground before the arm did. Leon wasted no time, a second blow across the jaw sending the innkeeper’s wife, and her teeth, sprawling on the ground. There wasn’t enough time for Hawl to properly react before she was scooped up again, brought close to Leon’s mouth as he sniffed her. She froze in his grip before the cat boy decided she was safe, carrying her bodily to the back exit once again. One of his tails opened the door with a flourish, the wave of cool air like a kiss upon both their faces. Leon stepped outside, surveying the empty area. Another sniff, nose almost twitching before the girl was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground.

“Run. North.” Leon’s voice was almost pleading. He stepped back, inside the tavern as other patrons started entering the back room.

“I… I’m…” Hawl’s voice was pathetic.

[Artifex Felicis]

Leon’s muscles burned as he slammed the door in Hawl’s face, sealing her off from the horrors crawling within the tavern. He threw the steel yarn to wrap, the leverage letting him drag a massive cabinet pantry down. A second piece of furniture, an iron shelf with onions and potatoes resting on it, followed suit. One of the other patrons of the tavern almost slipped on one of the vegetables, his swaying body barely recovering to prevent the tumble.

“I think…” The cat boy grinned, rolling shoulders and popping his shoulders. His mouth smiled, showing too many sharp teeth. He knew he was talking to himself now. “I’m going to be able to get away with this.”

A patron, a tall man with thin arms and grasping hands stumbled forward. His eyes were dilated, little pinpricks in white and red eyes. The cat batted the hasty attacker’s hands aside easily. He stepped into the man, claws parting his soft flesh like water. The hunter tore upward from his navel to the chops, spilling life’s blood and viscera over the floor with a wet plop and the wet snaps of cut bone. The next of the patrons, a young woman with lips peeled back in a snarl, slipped slightly in the puddle. It was more than enough opportunity for one of Leon’s massive paws to break her jaw with a wicked crack, sending her to the ground.

Leon stepped past them, not slowing as his own pupils dilated. His movements were silent and smooth as he stabilized himself for a moment. A foot crashed forward, faster than the wind. The poor man blocking the door to the main room of the inn was shoved through it, the cheap wood splintering under the blow. Another wheezing, gasping moan escaped the poor man as the cat boy stepped on the beaten man and into the main room.

There were a handful more of the patrons in there, all of them training their eyes on Leon. He didn’t have any trouble side stepping their clumsy blows. He barely spared them a glance even as he broke limbs and split skin, leaving a wake of people pretending to be soldiers behind the hunter.

He reached the front door in a few long strides, cursing as the heavy wood resisted him. A critical eye told the hunter he couldn’t break it down quickly, but at least nothing was coming in that way. His foot, shaking the heavy iron hinges with three heavy blows, confirmed that he couldn’t open it. The doors inside were just to separate patrons and workers in a peaceful town; this was meant to keep out bandits and spiders and so much worse. The entire inn was an accidental fortress.

[Artifex Felicis]

A groan escaped the cat, and he patted his sides. His weapons weren’t there, left behind in his home in the Concordia woods. He had never needed them before when making this low journey to Scara Brae and back, and he cursed his naive past self.

“”Should be windows upstairs…” He paused, musing. Heavy, powerful claws tapped idly on the table top by him. They gouged the wood easily, an unconsciously nervous tic of the cat boy. He spared a glance, catching movement behind him. He stopped, slowly turning his back to the unmoving door. The woman who’s jaw he broke was slowly walking towards him, a fire in her eyes fueled by hate and frustration. Her jaw bone hung limply in her mouth, held together with muscle and skin, exposing snarling teeth with more than a touch of pain.

“Not dealing with this,” Leon Timyon stared, nodding slowly. He licked his lips, his cold arrogance shared down to an understanding of what he would need to do.

She held her bleeding arm to the stump at her shoulder. Dust, or perhaps ash, rubbed off of the wound preventing whatever the woman was trying to do. She snarled again at him, whatever threats on her tongue mangled into an animalistic growl.

Behind her, the tall man stumbled forward, dust spilling from the massive wound Leon has dealt him. He stumbled, falling and being trampled by two other patrons in a smooth motion. The tall man bled where shoes cut skin and bruised where the full weight of the innkeeper pressed on him, an ugly swelling purple.

Not for the last time that night, the hunter prayed that Hawl managed to escape and that whatever was happening was particularly localized. He sniffed, knowing that it wasn’t. Probably this entire section of town was ruined or mad, but at least quite a few of them were in here.

Leon Timyon did not wait for them to come closer, picking up one of the nearby stools and throwing it at the lead man with all the force he could muster. It slammed against her head, cutting her lip and causing her to stumble back and into the patrons behind her. The hunter cocked his head, surprised the stool survived the blow. A hand reached out, grasping a heavy tankard of beer before taking several deep swallows and it with a clatter.

[Artifex Felicis]

The hunter moved forward, a heavy foot stomping down and shattering a leg. He grabbed the impromptu weapon, smashing it into the skull of another patron with a loud crack. The stool club fell from his hand, the vibration too much to control. The cat hopped back, not watching the fallout and scampering up the stairs to the second story of the inn.

A long hallway, with a faux-Fallien rug along the length of it. It was picturesque and elegant and decorated with art from what he hoped were local artists. This place was honestly one of Leon’s favorite places to stay at until this night. There would sounds of struggles going on in several of the rooms, heavy breathing, banging upon what must have been wood. Leon didn’t halt, grabbing a grandfather clock from the corner and throwing it down the stairs behind him before stepping forward and into the hallway.

He didn’t get far, a groan escaping him.

“I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, god damnit I should’t,” The words were a whisper, barley reaching his own ears. He paced, taking several steps, pacing. He nodded to himself, swallowing his own self preservation and opening the door to where one of the sources of sound was.

A man and woman were within, bare and writhing on the bed. The man’s hand was around the girl’s neck, muscles bulging as lumps writhed along his bare back. The man’s torso was too long, muscles flexing where none should be, elongating his form. The woman was struggling, but even from across the room Leon could see the pinpricks of her pupils turn sharply toward him, snarling with contempt. Her nails had drawn brackish red blood along the man’s arm, her body a mess underneath him. He could see the broken ribs, her swollen stomach, the heavy bruise from when the man struck her in fury.

Leon closed the door to the room with a bang, backing away and moving down the long corridor on softly padding feet. The rug absorbed most of the noise, but It wasn’t like it matter The door that Leon had opened slammed open with a clatter. It was the woman who stepped out, not the man. Her mouth was bloody, lower lips ripped

(Bitten)

Off as they dripped that brackish red blood. She shouldn’t have been able to move, let alone stare at Leon with such vehemence. The patrons from below were beginning to make their way up, the stairs behind her, but stopped as the woman in front of them twitched. Her jaw went slack,d ripping as hands came to her head as it twisted, tortured by some unnatural symphony only it could hear. Leon stopped, fascinated despite the danger.

[Artifex Felicis]

“The fu-“ His words are interrupted as the girl screamed, the sound of a young girl with her life being cute short. She stumbled, slamming into the wall beside her with a crack. She fell onto the rug, body twisting with violent spasms.

One of the braver patrons from before, the woman whose arm Leon neatly removed, stepped forward, brave and snarling at Leon. Before she could take several steps, something burst from the girl on the ground, wet and spraying that brackish blood along the floor and wall. Something else burst from the girl’s body, then another, then another. The patrons behind her tried to back away, the new limbs glistening with viscous blood as they seemed to unfold and take flex. Segmented and bony, covered in a hard chitin; they were like the stalks of a massively blown up insect. They couldn’t find purchase on even the rug, tearing through the cheap material and sliding on the wood underneath as it tried to stand like a newborn foal.

Leon could not call the thing before him a girl anymore, as much as he tried. As the blood slid off its six powerful legs, he could see only the girl’s naked torso and head remained. Her jaw opened, wider and wider, unhinging and revealing rows of sharp needles for teeth. Her (Its) eyes were bloodshot, the same pinpricks that the tall man and every other patron below her shared. The woman with one arm tried to push past her, eyes focused on Leon. She shoved at one of the hairy, chitinous legs aside, the thing it was attached to glaring at her. It roared in defiance at the one armed woman, flecks of coagulated blood spewing.

Leon shivered, staring at them with cold eyes.

[Artifex Felicis]

The woman with one arm reared back, slamming a heavy meat cleaver into one of the legs. Brackish red blood sprayed out, streaked with a green viscous liquid that nearly glowed in the candlelight. It covered the front of the one armed woman with ugly stains. The patron tried to drew her big kitchen knife back for another blow, but it was stuck in the gristle and bone of its leg. What was once a girl squealed, high pitched and in pain, wheeling on the one armed woman with the dust stump. The front two legs wrapped around the woman, pressing her against the naked torso of the girl and squeezing, squeezing. The rest of the patrons came to the woman aid with their own snarls, some form of twisted tribalism forming. Their angry cacophony mixed with the high pitched squealing of the girl-thing. Blood dribbled at first, then poured out of the one armed woman’s mouth as she was torn apart. Viscera, twitching, wet and heavy fell to the floor. And the rest of the patrons leapt onto the girl as she rounded on another one, Leon all but forgotten for now.

He didn’t wait around as they fought, climbing to the third floor. He couldn’t escape yet. These things would follow him out the window in moments., tumbling out like running water. He wasn’t even sure if Hawl had managed to escape yet, the girl’s small legs pumping and bringing her as quickly away from this town best left forgotten. He paws patted his body down again, cursing again for his lack of weaponry. The third floor was much the same as the second, though there we no more above it. The hunter bit his lip, nervous for a moment. The hunter wasn’t entirely sure if he could survive this fall unless there was a lucky hay bale or his body was much tougher than he imagined. He didn’t particularly relish having to tear his way through the men and woman slowly following him up.

He swallowed, stepping through the corridor as silently as he could manage. It was almost the exact same cheap rug, several small tables to break up the corridor. The roof access, a small ladder that hung above the ceiling to a latch door, was at the very end. Four doors lined one of the sides, above the same rooms below. The cat groaned, one massive paw gripping the first. He hadn’t heard anything yet up here. It didn’t mean there weren’t more people (monsters) up here. The door opened quickly, and Leon peered inside.

The bed was a mess, torn and bloody sheets. Leon stared with a detached amusement. He recognized what must have been a man’s leg still wrapped up in stained linens, the hairy limb terminating just about the knee with a teared edge. The bone was jagged, ripped and broken off. Leon’s eyes trailed up, following a trail of destruction that had broken through several walls. The other rooms were in worse shape. Broken beds, bodies that were ripped apart like chickens over the campfire. He didn’t step any further, eyes zeroing in on a shuffling motion as it moved left, and into the hallway.

[Artifex Felicis]

The cat boy froze, then stepped back into the hallway standing tall. The thing would have met him, or sensed or just hated enough to lash out. There was only one way for the cat boy to go, and he could afford to risk being crushed under the gnarled hood of whatever this thing was. He breathed out, tightening the armored jacket around his body as he faced forward. His claws extended and retracted, his tic coming back.

The thing was there, sitting on its haunches and chewing on something in its arms. It didn’t seem to have noticed the cat boy yet, too preoccupied. . It was overblown, its heavy body leaking from several places. This ones base, for that was the only word Leon could think of, was a heavyset man. Legs, so many legs, had burst out of a heavy and gelatinous looking mass of flesh. It was like a hard slug, blown up to cartoonish huge proportions. The same sleek chitin dotted its surface, the same as the young girl from the second floor, but it had grown fat and corpulent. Its legs with as tick as Leon’s thighs, the chitin sharp and wicked talons that sank into the walls to steady its huge form.

As Leon slowly walked forward, his eyes narrowed on the massive monster, a growl building in his throat. His eyes could focus on the thing it held, an attractive older man, his eyes wide with fear and pupils pinpricked with that telltale corrupting fury. Like the young girl, the fat man’s lips had been bitten off, but he didn’t bite into the man immediately. Instead a massive tongue, a lolling, shiny piece of flesh twisting out of his mouth licked up the center of the older man’s chest. Flesh sizzled and popped, boils forming and popping over the skin, and smoke rising. The older man’s torso ended in an ugly, misshapen mess of flesh. His legs were gone, everything up to his hips ripped off and sealed with the fat man’s acid.

The fat man bit into the older man, his single remaining arm struggling to fight against the fat monster holding him down. Needle teeth sank into the older man, tearing out chunks of corrupted flesh like candy. The monster didn’t even swallow, simply grunting and patting the jiggling mass that was its belly. It took a second bite, then a third before it finally noticed the hunter approaching it. The monster froze looking down at the hunter, its legs pushing back slowly as it saw it. It tried to push back again, its bulk squishing against the wall, the roof access now before it. Still the hunter came forward, denying its escape.

[Artifex Felicis]

The snack, the poor older man, was thrown at the hunter with blinding speed, air whistling as it sailed past and skidded against the carpet with heavy thumps, neck snapping from the blow. The hunter wasn’t where he was a moment ago, having side stepped so quickly it was like he was always there. The fat monster’s entire body rippled, its many eyes widening as it spat out, belching a mass of bone and acid and vomit. It ate into the carpet and walls, but its touch was denied by the hunter as he snarled. In a flash, he had come close enough, claws splitting the massive belly open like an overripe melon. Dust dripped out with a soft hiss as it deflated, and the hunter was in the air, paws crunching chitin, bone and whatever else was on the corpulent beast’s chest.

It began to rippled again, even its twisted and disturbing form capable of mockery. It opened its mouth again bile and acid rising to the forefront, but the hunter’s massive paws smashed into the open hole, breaking teeth. The hunter roared, the pictures on the wall shaking and the ladder falling from the force of his fury. He pushed his arm, further and further into the fat beast’s gullet. His roar closed off, and the hunter drew breath, roaring again into the corrupted monsters face, driving fear directly into this thing’s broken psyche. An arm twitched, and the hunter pulled, guts and spine and viscera and dust so much dust pulled out with a slimy, sucking sound.The cat did not let the monster suffer out of mercy, he had seem too much to let this thing have a chance at survival. Claws raked up and into the head, severing connections, slicing off bloody chunks, dust spraying as the fat man was reduced to pieces.

The young woman from the second floor, her face the only thing remotely recognizable on her sinewy form had crawled up to the third floor. Her legs had been reduced to five, one dangling useless on the ground behind her. Her body was swollen from her feast, mouth agape and an unblinking eye dangling out of it. Her entire stomach has opened up to a mass of teeth and wet flesh, trailing her fat bounty behind her More creatures were just behind what was once the young woman, jostling for position as she slowly began to back up. The pressed her forward, legs skittering snarling as if to tell her to get on with it. Her eyes stayed focused forward even as she scratched at the floor, desperately fighting the force behind her, to get away.

The hunter was approaching, blood and dust dripping from his hands.

[Artifex Felicis]

The roof of the tavern was clear, the clever architecture of Theastern providing a stable ground under Leon’s feet. He stumbled forward and out of the roof hatch, eyes scanning the rooftop with tired eyes. The ground was freezing, flakes of snow from the clear sky beginning to stick to the ground. Leon was confused even as his body steamed in the frozen air. The cat’s nose told him they were flakes of ash and dust. An orange glow from further away provided the source. The moon hung in the sky, massive and illuminating nearly everything. Several long troughs filled with tomatoes herbs and leafy greens were already beginning to scab over with that disgusting black wax. The sides of the roof were so close now; their promise of escape from this nightmare more tempting than ever.

His breath was ragged, coming out in small clouds in the frigid air. The hunter didn’t even notice the freezing temperatures, his face grimacing with pain from the many scrapes he took. The door behind him swung freely on broken hinges, hardly able to stop a cold breeze let alone the monsters Leon fought through. His eye stung from the slow bubble of blood, shut against the outside elements. There was no one here, no one but the wind, the moon and Leon himself. He fell to his knees, claws sliding slowly back into his paws. Shaking, exhausted hands fumbled with his jacket, peeling the wet fabric off and dropping it to the ground with a clatter. His body steamed from the effort of his hunt, and he fell onto his back, chest heaving with effort and body wracked with pain.

The creatures has fought back, hesitantly as they fell before him, but with a desperation born of fear and confusion as he tore through them. His body was bruised and in places even broken, bleeding on the cold tiles. He laughed, a deep aching mirth that wracked his entire body with pain as the ash and dust from the fires settled on him.

There was no reaction as the moon itself seemed to approach Leon. He groaned, pushing himself back as it drew closer, condensing slowly into a darker form. Thick, muscular tentacles reached out from it, falling to the roof with wet thuds and grasping the edge of the building. As the presence came close, more and more tentacles differentiated themselves from the massive body, and in front something much smaller and humanoid. Leon managed to find one of the troughs, pushing against it to get his body into an upright position.

[Artifex Felicis]

It touched down, the black corrupting wax spreading where its claws, or feet or tentacles, touched. It’s body was massive, almost insectoid and segmented, but rippling with muscle and wet. The presence’s body steamed in the cold, a soft hissing that was audible even from here. The cat began to laugh, a massive paw covering his face as this thing pulled itself closer to him, almost dragging its bulk across the roof. Leon couldn’t take it, it was just too ludicrous at this point. He heard it settle before him. He knew its full size was too much for even this roof, some of its back legs hanging off the back and forced to scratch at the wood for purchase.

A hissing sound reached Leon’s ears.

“Shhh,” The voice was soothing and melodious, the voice of an angel. A soft and gentle hand reached out towards the cat, tugging his arm away from his face. Leon couldn’t resist that inexorable force anymore than he could stop breathing. He screwed up his eyes, his head twisting with a moan of pain.

That hissing sound again.

“You’re okay, shhhh…” Leon could hear the smile and the warmth behind that voice. Those soft, unstoppable hands cupped his face, careful fingers prying opens his eyes. The hunter felt like a fragile doll in the thing’s hands.

Full, luscious lips were pursed in sympathy before his eyes, as dark as night.They broadened slowly into a wide heartfelt smile. It was a handsome woman’s face with strong cheekbones and a proud aquiline nose. Her skin was silver and clear, lacking imperfection like the work of a master sculptor. She was nude before him, a token robe about her person only highlighting her athleticism and nudity. Her hands, long fingers bending one too many times, moved from Leon’s eyes and cupped his chin. He leaned forward, his body eager for her touch even as he voiced his protest.

More hissing, now close

“That’s it. Purr for me, my precious creature,” the thing intoned in her perfect voice. Her free hand brushed Leon’s long hair back, closing the bleeding cut on his forehead. It trailed along his skull, strong fingers beginning to scritch the cat behind his ears. Leon couldn’t even protest, leaning forward fully and into the presence’s arms. His body was cradled for a moment before in a moment of bliss before she put him back. Leon’s eyes opened on their own, watching the silver thing before him and the darkness behind. The moon was gone from the sky now, all light emanating from this silver presence.

[Artifex Felicis]

This is what had changed everything. This is what had destroyed the inn, and probably the town. A idle thought crossed Leon’s mind. Amon would have been able to get Hawl out of there without trouble, especially if he had friends. She’d be safe, and he was alone.

The soft hissing, now wet.

“I am overjoyed you survived, my creature,” Leon shuddered at the voice. The massive bulk shifted, coiling. The shining woman knelt down before the hunter, many jointed fingers caressing Leon’s scarred and cut chest. A warmth spread from her touch, but the wounds did not close.

“D-“ The cat boy coughed, a wet sound from the back of his thought. A small sputter of blood escaped him and fell on the presence’s robe. It slid off the fabric, remaining pristine and perfect. It tutted, slowly letting Leon lean back against the ledge. His back sank into the small growth of black wax that was creeping up behind him .

“Conserve your strength,” A silver finger was placed on Leon’s mouth like a child. “You will have every future to love me, now you must be safe, my dearest kitten.”

“Don-“ Another cough, more blood spitting out and onto his shirt. His eyes opened, sober and bright despite the fatigue he felt and the damage done. “No…”

The hissing laughed.

“No?” The woman was surprised, her hand cupping his chin and stroking him. It trailed up, booping him gently on the nose. “Don’t you understand? You are mine~”

The hissing laughed louder.

“The others, the lost so much as they drank and danced and sang,” She smiled, as bright and brilliant. as the sun. She back up slightly, the massive body behind that silver presence settling. Legs scrabbled along the side of the building. “They lost so much of themselves as I changed them to be all they could be. But not you, my precious, nooo~”

Hissing, low and accusatory.

“You barely changed at all, except for your excellent show just now. I saw it all~” The divine being giggled, and Leon stirred, trying to avert his eyes, to deny her work and her affections. “You’re what I want. You’re exactly what I need. Don’t suppose you ever say my hounds? Those poor little pets had to be put down by men with axe and sword, losing their joy and loyalty to me as they grew and become more.”

She tutted as the hiss provided a backdrop. A massive leg clawed along the side of the building.

“I’ll change everything to have you…” She took Leon’s chin, tilting it forcefully upwards, to the sky above. He groaned in pain, unable to look away. His eyes stared. “Watch… watch me, my dear pet…”

The silver presence reached up and plucked a star from the sky.

[Artifex Felicis]

“Do you see, my little one?” She closed her hand into a fist, swallowing the light before Leon. She opened it again, nothing more than perfect skin. “You’ll be mine, and I’ll change everything to have you.”

“I- d-…” The cat boy sputtered, swallowing his fear and what he felt. His eyes focused beyond the silver presence, to that thing beyond her. The thing that controlled this goddess like a puppet for him and him alone. That overwhelming presence, swallowing most of the roof top in its bulk and pressure. That which could not be denied.

“No shh…” The silver presence again, leaning it and kissing the hunter with soft full lips. It shot electricity through him, desire and need and want. His eyes remained focused, breaking off the embrace.

“Fuck you.” His claws flash, tearing into the doll. Dust fell to the ground as they passed through her should and deep into her side. It gave Leon the opening he wanted, his body practically leaping to its feet and paw stabbing out. The force of the blow was more than his hands, a deep gouge digging into that massive thing that could not be denied in a dancing flash. The cat boy struck again, digging deeper into it, severing the connection on the doll’s side. He began laughing backing up as fear swallowed his body. It was hysterical and arrogant, born of pure defiance and denial.

The monster roared, something so deep it shook the entire building. Leon thought it sounded pathetic, a little scratch on something so inexorable. It almost waddled towards him, scrabbling for purchase on the building as Leon backed up to the other side. In the light of the stars, he could see the old thing bleed dust. He came closer to him as the cat boy stepped onto the ledge. He paused for the briefest of moment, his middle finger extending to the thing as he leapt backwards off of the building and into the frozen air.

He laughed the whole way down.

[Rayleigh]

Title: The Silver Moon
Participant(s): Artifex Felicis
Judgement Type: Basic

Good evening!

Strengths

The first thing that I want to do is applaud you for writing such a creative, engaging story. Overall, your tale hooked me early on, and kept me engaged the entire time. You did an excellent job of morphing something lighthearted and innocent into a wonderful, gore-covered horror classic. That could only be accomplished through top-notch pacing; save for a brief lull (which I will discuss later), you absolutely had that. Things moved quickly for Leon, yet you managed to show the action, not tell it. Many authors make the mistake of list-like action, which becomes even more common in fast-paced stories. You managed to avoid that, producing an upbeat, exciting story. Well done.

Your use of setting, especially in the first post, created and maintained a very creepy atmosphere throughout the entire piece. I want to commend you on your use of simple description. You found the perfect balance, painting a picture for your reader without bogging them down. Nothing was overly flowery, or too complex. Yet you incorporated the setting seamlessly: nods to the barrels of alcohol, the thick rug on the floor, and the torn, bloodied sheets. There was no jarring switch from "descriptive mode" to "story mode." I also appreciated the victims' various states of death and decay. Each townsperson seemed to take on their own "persona," and as a reader, I found myself picking out specific characters based on how many arms they had, or whether they still had teeth. That was an interesting experience!

While this certainly isn't the last of your strengths (there are too many to discuss in a basic judgement), I really want to focus on your use of technique. Not only did you sprinkle in a variety of techniques, you did so effectively. Everything flowed very well, and nothing seemed forced. Never once did I think to myself "why did he feel the need to shove this metaphor in here?" Again, the theme of your judgement seems to be balance. When it came to your use of technique, you found it. Keep up the good work!

Areas of Improvement

Based on our previous discussions, it should not come as any surprise that mechanics was your weakest category here. There were missing words, extra words, wrong words, incorrect punctuation, and simple typos (for example, "stuff breeze" instead of "stiff breeze" in the first post). I would be more concerned were this your usual thread, but because of the urgency that came with Althanas Day, I can see where these big mistakes stemmed from. I am confident that, given more time to proof-read and think about what you were writing, your mechanics would be much better. Going forward, just remember to actually read everything you write before you submit it. It can be annoying and time consuming, but you'll catch things that spell-check, or a more casual last-second glance, might miss.

Word choice is another thing that you could think about while writing future threads. You often used words like "man" or "woman" over and over again in a short period of time. For example, post five:

Another wheezing, gasping moan escaped the poor man as the cat boy stepped on the beaten man
When used sparingly, the repetition can be a really interesting tool for stressing importance. However, when this becomes a trend, it works to bog the reader down a bit. In those cases, it is often safer to use "he/she," or another synonym when that might be confusing. Again, this could have simply been a result of the rushed, Althy Day approach, but it is still something to keep in mind!

My final comment is very much personal opinion, but I felt that your ending was a bit lacking. While I don't think that you needed to add any more description, the final death-blow felt a bit rushed, and just a tad too convenient. After how perilous things looked for Leon, and after how close he came to becoming a victim, he was able to just claw into her at the last minute? True, he was being defiant, and she thought that she had won, but the move was very jarring. Part of this can be attributed to the change in pacing through the middle of your story - while the rest of your pacing was spot-on, some of the posts that were entirely Leon searching for an exit slowed things down a bit. For him to suddenly lash out in the closing couple of posts seemed almost too easy. It was well-written, and the imagery was fantastic, but the actual action itself was a bit rushed. A bit more build-up, perhaps, might have helped this.

Congratulations! Artifex Felicis receives 4,800 EXP and 150 GP!
Triple Althanas Day EXP has been added.

[Rayleigh]

All EXP and GP have been added.