Marked By The Weeping Beast

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Lightning and thunder danced throughout the skies. Tornados of leaves passed through the streets. A storm was at the peak of it's rage, marking the arrival of a demon, and the rebirth of another.


There was something euphoric about bathing in the blood of a fresh kill. Still warm, and pulsing with vitality. Kabili lay in the bath he drew for himself, the Bloody Bear’s corpse not far from it, the only illumination to stave off the darkness were three candles.

“I did it…” he muttered, “I did it for you, Abbagellon.” ​

Bubbles touched the surface of the ichor bath.

“I offer Vhoor’ahk’s body and blood, as a tribute, to you.” ​

Wind howled from the outside.

“I followed all the messages you left for me. Please, hear my call, and deem me worthy.” ​

The candles flickered.

“Name me your hunter.” ​

Kabili’s body sunk slowly into the blood until he was fully submerged. How long he spent under there even he didn’t know, but when he arose, everything was different. The bath he laid in was now filled with a thick, black tar-like substance. The smell of malice lingered in the air, along with spine-chilling breezes of sinister energy.

He exited the bath ever-so-cautiously and scanned the room that shouldn’t be. The flames of the candles he laid out were now a deep crimson color, and the wax that dripped from them appeared like blood. Most importantly, Vhoor’ahk themself was gone, along with any sign of them being there.

“Looking for your kill, Kabili?” three demonic voices called out. ​

The hunter whipped around- and fell to his knees at who he saw.

“It’s you...You answered my call, Abbagellon.” ​

Fear and religious ecstasy mixed together is what he felt as the Weeping Beast, whose form shifted every thirty seconds, stepped closer to him.

“Of course I did,” they spoke, even the three voices that spoke alongside them had changed, “You impressed me. But not only that, I can practically taste the passion for the hunt you have.” ​

Abbagellon disappeared from his sight, only to reappear behind him, and whisper into his ear,

“You said you wanted me to name you my hunter…” ​

Long, thick, and sharp talons grew from their three-fingered hands. The tips of them pressed into the top of Kabili’s shoulders, breaking the skin. His breath hitched, and every muscle in his body stiffened.

“Tell me, is this what you want?” ​

An agonizingly painful sensation crawled it's way into the hunter’s throat. Churning around and trying to escape. Tears flooded his eyes as he screamed, desperation dripping from his words,

“Yes, yes, yes!” ​

The talons raked down his back, ripping through the flesh as if it were air. And yet, he felt no pain. Absolutely nothing but the infernal kiss that pressed against the nape of his neck.


Kabili gasped for air as he lurched upwards, and sat up in the blood bath. He was no longer in the room that shouldn’t be. He pressed a hand against his gut, as the ravenous hunger filled it to the brim, and beginning his journey as the embodiment of the Weeping Beast.