Page 5 of Sacrificed to the Mountain Demon

But even as I turn to leave, I know I'll be back. There's a mystery here, one that I'm determined to solve. And when I do... well, these humans better hope I like the answer.

I soon arrive at the entrance of my cave. Still feeling perplexed, I decide to collect some firewood and clear my mind. Before long, night descends. I perch atop my favorite outcropping, surveying my domain. The darkness doesn't hinder me; my eyes pierce through it like it's daylight. A short distance away, I see the flickering lights of the village.

Then I hear it. The howls. The snarls. The waira are on the move.

"Shit," I growl. "Looks like the mutts decided to crash the party at the village."

Part of me itches to join the fray. To show these upstart beasts who really rules these mountains. But I hold back, my muscles coiled tight with restraint.

"Not my problem," I mutter, even as the first screams reach my ears. "Let the humans deal with their own shit."

But it's hard to stay put. The sounds of battle, the scent of blood on the wind – it calls to something primal inside me.

"Dammit," I snarl, pacing back and forth along the ledge. "Why should I care? They're just humans. Weak. Pathetic. Not worth my time."

And yet, I can't tear my eyes away from the chaos unfolding nearby. The waira tear through the village's pitiful defenses like they're made of paper. Humans scatter like leaves in the wind, their terrified cries music to my ears.

"That's right," I growl, a savage grin splitting my face. "Run. See how helpless you are without your 'mountain god' to protect you."

I watch as a group of villagers make a stand, brandishing torches and crude weapons. It's almost admirable, in a stupid, suicidal kind of way. They don't stand a chance against the waira's savage strength and speed.

But I can't deny the spark of... something... their bravery ignites in me. It's been so long since I've faced a real challenge. These humans, weak as they are, at least have the balls to fight back.

I flex my muscles, feeling the raw power thrumming through my body. With a single leap, I could be down there. I could end this fight in seconds. Show both the waira and the humans what true strength looks like.

But I don't move. I stay rooted to my perch, watching the carnage unfold with a mixture of disgust and fascination.

"Not my fight," I remind myself, even as the battle rages on.

But deep down, I know I'm lying to myself. Something is changing, whether I like it or not. And I've got a feeling this is just the beginning.

3

BELLA

In the aftermath of the waira attack on our village, the air hangs heavy with the metallic stench of blood and the acrid smell of fear. My hands tremble as I press a cloth against a deep gash on a young man's arm. The attack has left the village in shambles.

"Hold still," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. "This might sting a bit."

The man hisses through clenched teeth as I clean the wound. His eyes, wide with shock, dart around the makeshift infirmary we've set up in the village square.

"Am I... am I gonna make it?" he asks in a soft voice.

I force a smile, hoping it reaches my eyes. "You're doing great. It's just a flesh wound."

To my left, Elder Belinda barks orders, her usually calm demeanor shattered by the night's events. "We need more bandages! And someone fetch more healing herbs from the storehouse!"

I finish wrapping the man's arm and move on to the next victim. A woman, her face pale and drawn, clutches at her side where three deep claw marks have torn through her clothing.

"It's okay," I soothe, gently prying her hands away. "Let me take a look."

As I work, my thoughts turn to the lives lost. Five men and two women. Gone. Just like that.

"Bella!" Elder Belinda calls. "We need your help over here!"

I hurry over, my heart sinking as I see the severity of the injuries. A young boy, no more than twelve, lies motionless on a cot. His chest rises and falls in shallow, ragged breaths.

"Do what you can," Elder Belinda says softly, her eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrors my own.

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