MR Thiraxaimel, [Mar 27, 2025 at 16:51]
German placed all ten of his fingers tightly against his head due to a sudden and strange headache. For a brief moment, his eyes wept blood, but the pain vanished as quickly as it had come, allowing him to regain his balance. Strange memories began flowing through the primitive pipes of his brain as he muttered to himself,
"What was that terrifying headache just now? And why did I suddenly remember the name of a place I've never been to? It feels like a sign… for something."
German couldn't understand the thoughts that had invaded his mind for that brief second, leaving him as a pit where strange memories and ideas scattered aimlessly.
The red raven looked at him and spoke,
"Are you alright, Hunter German?"
German glanced at the raven with half an eye before continuing to walk, replying,
"Yes, it's nothing important. Let's continue our journey."
The red raven smirked as if he knew something that German did not. The two of them stepped toward their destination—The Red House.
As they approached, the sounds of commotion, breaking, and shattering objects filled the air. But most disturbing of all was an eerie noise, something that resembled a wolf's howl.
The red raven raised his fist to knock, prepared for whatever chaos lay inside, but before he could, the door creaked open. A strange figure stood in the doorway—thick-haired, sharp-fanged, and reeking of a foul stench. The creature grinned and spoke,
"Welcome, hunters. No need to break the door down—you may enter normally."
The two stepped inside. Blood was splattered across the walls in a dense, horrifying pattern. A monstrous figure sat in the room, trembling and muttering to itself.
German pulled out a chair, breaking the unsettling silence, then placed his pistol on the table and spoke,
"You know very well why we're here, don't you?"
The trembling werewolf stammered, his body shaking as though he were standing naked in the freezing cold.
"Y-y-yes… s-sir…"
The crimson raven smiled—that eerie, insane grin—as if he was ready to devour his prey. Crossing one leg over the other, he said,
"What do you think?"
The werewolf's eyes widened in horror as he muttered,
"You came… to hunt."
The red raven stood up, revealing his true form—long white hair, one eye bleeding crimson and the other glowing yellow. His body shook with manic excitement as he laughed in an unsettling way. In an instant, he fired his gun at the werewolf's head. The shot was almost imperceptible to the naked eye, but the older hunter, German, saw it clearly.
Then, chaos erupted.
Two wolves leaped from the upper staircase. Another emerged from the kitchen, while the fourth crashed through the ceiling, landing on the corpse of the werewolf just slain by the red raven. With its filthy, bloodstained claws, the beast tore off the werewolf's head in one brutal motion.
The red raven turned to German and grinned.
"Stay out of this fight. Let my madness run wild."
German leaned against the door, watching with a mysterious smile.
"The beasts are waiting for you, Crimson Raven. The meal is well-prepared."
The red raven drew a sharp dagger from his pocket, twirling it between his fingers.
"Come forth, you filthy mongrels!"
The first wolf lunged at him, aiming to impale him with its claws, but the red raven fired a bullet straight into its chest, making it gasp for breath.
Another werewolf tried to strike from behind, but the red raven swiftly pressed his dagger against its throat before slicing downward into its gut, ripping it open with sheer force. The creature's entrails spilled onto the floor.
Turning back to the first wounded wolf, the red raven finished it off without hesitation. Now, only two remained.
The last two wolves trembled with fear, but the red raven merely laughed at them.
He dashed forward, firing a bullet into one wolf's stomach while plunging his dagger into the other's skull, killing them both simultaneously.
MR Thiraxaimel, [Mar 27, 2025 at 16:51]
The Crimson Raven turned toward the sound of clapping behind him. It was none other than German, who gazed at him with a sharp look and said:
"I didn't expect you to be this skilled, you enigmatic crimson one."
The Crimson Raven was about to respond when a strange sound echoed from below—rattling chains, accompanied by something that resembled the sound of flesh being torn apart. The sheer weight of the sound suggested something enormous.
The Crimson Raven glanced down at the floor and muttered:
"It seems there's a giant beast in—"
But before he could finish, German interrupted him:
"Patrilik."
The Crimson Raven turned to German, his face displaying rare astonishment. Patrilik—the name of a legendary wolf, a direct descendant of the first werewolf. This bloodline had emerged with the rise of the Crimson Moon.
Both of them descended the stairs in silence. In the basement, a massive wolf was shackled in chains. But what neither the Crimson Raven nor German noticed was that the werewolf they had shot earlier was not truly dead. It had been merely a clone. The real one had been in the basement all along, preparing to awaken one of Patrilik's descendants from his slumber.
With a deafening snap, the chains shattered. The giant wolf opened his eyes and let out an ear-splitting howl, killing the very werewolf that had set him free.
The beast, drooling thick blood, spoke:
"You humans believe yourselves strong, capable of anything. But you are utterly mistaken. I am the grandson of King Patrilik, and I will make you beg for death."
The Crimson Raven drew his pistol and dagger, then turned to German.
"Leave this one to me, Mr. German."
German smirked, stepping back and sitting atop the corpse of the fallen werewolf.
"It's your night for a massacre, enigmatic one."
The giant wolf let out a deep, rumbling laugh.
"Why not have your friend help you? The outcome won't change, and having two meals is better than one! Hahaha!"
The Crimson Raven sharpened his dagger against his belt, replying coldly:
"Wolves aren't usually talkative… but it seems you're just a filthy little cat."
The insult infuriated the massive wolf. With blinding speed, he lunged at the Crimson Raven, his long, razor-sharp claws aimed at severing his arm. The Crimson Raven barely evaded, but the wolf cunningly adjusted his attack, attempting to sink his fangs into his throat.
Reacting instantly, the Crimson Raven wedged his dagger horizontally into the beast's mouth and pressed his gun against its stomach. A thunderous gunshot rang out, and the force of the shot split the wolf's jaw apart.
Howling in rage, the wolf charged once more. But this time, German leaped onto its head, stabbing it repeatedly in the face. The beast writhed and thrashed, powerless against the vicious assault.
With its final, ragged breaths, the giant wolf whimpered:
"Why… why do you want to kill me, you enigmatic one?"
The Crimson Raven continued slicing into its face, grinning.
"No reason."
With a final motion, he severed the beast's head and hurled it into the air before firing a shot, blasting it apart midair.
German, lighting a cigarette, spoke:
"Looks like you're different from before, enigmatic hunter."
The Crimson Raven cast a sidelong glance at him as he ascended the stairs.
"After you killed that filthy bastard in the corrupted palace and I saw your insane ways, I found myself longing for the old days of hunting. This is where we part ways, clown."
With that, the Crimson Raven vanished into the night.
German stepped out of the Red House, but as soon as he did, an excruciating headache struck him. The same agonizing sensation, as though memories from an ancient past were slowly seeping into his mind.
Among the flood of recollections, one stood out—the hidden apartment near Petrahaord Station.
Gazing up at the Crimson Moon, German made his way to the apartment. He found it in perfect condition. Sitting on his bed, he began sorting through his thoughts.
MR Thiraxaimel, [Mar 27, 2025 at 16:51]
The apartment was simple: just a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk. Above the desk, a window provided a clear view of the Crimson Moon. German tried to process everything. His eyes drifted to the drawer in front of him—blood trickled from his nose.
He opened the drawer. Inside lay a book titled The Bloody Memoir.
It was a journal from one of the enigmas. The book had five hundred pages, but only ten of them contained writing. Among the most cryptic passages was one that read:
"He watches you. He wants to embrace you because you are the son of the Beloved. Go to him—he watches you everywhere, even in the forgotten worlds. O Daemos, O Daemos, let mercy flow through your veins and have pity on this cursed child."
Yet German misinterpreted another section—one that mentioned Gilgamesh. Though the text described him as brave and wise, the overwhelming flood of chaotic information twisted German's perception, making him believe that Gilgamesh was nothing more than a cowardly fool.
Without hesitation, German raised his gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.