Georges' trembling hand slowly rose, his fingers clenched. Around his index finger, a silver ring, tarnished by time, seemed to shudder under his touch. He took a deep breath, then released his mana.
The metal quivered, reacting instantly. A faint chime resonated in the air. Then, a sharp click. A thin needle shot out, faster than a serpent, and plunged into the flesh of his finger. A sharp pain coursed through him. Georges gritted his teeth, forced to endure it. A thick, crimson bead of blood swelled on his skin before sliding slowly onto the ring.
As soon as it touched the metal, a cold shiver raced up his arm. The ring absorbed the vital liquid like a ravenous beast. An invisible wave spread through the air, shattering the silence.
A shudder ran through Annabelle, hidden in the carriage behind her uncle. She held her breath.
The two mastiffs carved onto the ring stirred. Their red stone eyes ignited with a crimson glow, and within their irises, minuscule summoning circles appeared, etched with inhuman precision.
A deep thud resonated in the ground. Then a second. Like a gigantic heart, buried beneath the earth.
A breach opened before Georges.
Space itself tore apart into a gaping rift, devouring the light around it. A black vortex stretched into an ellipse, like a living shadow. Its center was an abyss, an unfathomable void from which thick, greasy, and cold mist seeped.
Two bluish glows pulsed within the darkness, slow and menacing heartbeats.
Then, a step. Heavy. Resounding. A second followed.
Two titanic hounds slowly emerged from the portal, bending their backs to pass through its arc. They straightened in perfect silence, towering, each as tall as a grown man at the shoulder.
Their fur was absolute black, a coat woven from shadows that seemed to absorb the light.
The creatures advanced with measured steps, unhurried, their deep breaths lifting wisps of whitish vapor.
Their ribcages were stripped of flesh, their bones forming a cage around an exposed heart. A black, glistening organ, beating in the open, pumping a luminescent blue liquid through the veins attached to it with every pulse.
The hounds stopped before Georges. Their fiery eyes rose to meet his, indifferent. Nothing in their posture betrayed even the slightest inclination to obey a master.
A vice seemed to tighten around his throat, cutting off his breath. He had expected at least partial submission, but in those burning pupils, he saw only cold calculation. A wait… or a judgment. Georges swallowed, his breathing turning slightly erratic.
And if they refused to obey? And if they turned against him?
These creatures were bound by no contract, no blood oath—only a seal upon their hearts of which they seemed unaware. They were here because they had answered his call of their own will… but their loyalty remained uncertain.
The exposed hearts beat faster, just a fraction more rapid, but enough to betray a growing impatience. A faint growl, barely audible, rumbled in their throats.
Georges clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. He had no choice. He had to give them a reason to listen… before they decided it would be more interesting to tear him apart.
A heavy silence fell, and he wondered if this had truly been a good idea. But he was out of options to end the monster that Amandinne had become. Fortunately, creatures like her, infested with worms, were their favorite prey.
The portal closed with a wet suction sound, swallowing the last wisps of mist.
The mastiffs waited, watching their supposed master.
The heavy silence was broken by an inhuman rasp.
Amandinne stood there, back at the edge of the forest, a gaunt silhouette under the pale glow of the moon. Her nun's habit was nothing more than a filthy shroud, torn, soaked in blood and foul secretions. Her face, once kind, was now a ruin—a clenched jaw from which viscous filaments dripped. Her body crawled. Beneath her stretched skin, shapes wriggled, shifting, tearing the human shell that now contained nothing but a swarm of enraged vermin controlling her.
She twitched forward with jerky, unnatural movements, her limbs twisting at impossible angles. Her empty sockets fixed on Georges and Annabelle with a terrifying absence. Then, a violent spasm rippled through her. Her flesh burst apart in a sickening crack. A swarm of black worms erupted, splattering onto the ground with a wet squelch before writhing frantically toward their prey.
Georges scrambled back, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat. But he had no time to think.
The mastiffs lunged without warning.
They rushed at the monstrosity. One of the hounds clamped onto Amandinne's twisted arm, closing its jaws with brutal force. A sickening crunch rang out, but no scream escaped the thing that had once been a woman. Her other arm lashed out, elongated fingers like talons plunging into the second hound's fur, tearing chunks of charred flesh.
A furious snarl echoed. The wounded mastiff leaped back, its exposed heart pulsing frantically. But its brother did not release its grip. It shook the carcass violently, ripping apart the rotting flesh.
But Amandinne no longer needed her limbs. She twisted on herself, her spine arching unnaturally, and pounced toward Georges with unnatural speed.
He barely had time to raise his arm.
The claws shredded his sleeve and cut into his skin. He let out a grunt, stumbling back, but his gaze never wavered from her. He was waiting.
The second mastiff struck with brutal force. Its fangs tore into what remained of Amandinne's torso, but this time, she exploded into a writhing mass. The worms cascaded onto the hound, slithering into its exposed ribcage, burrowing into its open chest cavity.
The beast convulsed. Its black heart pulsed violently, as if rejecting the intrusion. It tore itself away from the seething mass, panting. But the parasites clung to it, crawling beneath its skin, carving tunnels, seeking to consume it from within.
Georges couldn't allow it.
With a swift motion, he ripped a shard of metal from his bracer and drove it into his bleeding wound. More blood spilled, and he flung it toward the infected hound.
The protective seal upon the beast's heart, left by the ancestor who had raised them, activated.
A violent wave shook the air. The mastiff whimpered, its body trembling under the bond's constraint. Its heart gave one last beat… then erupted into a burst of black flames.
A shockwave of heat scorched the parasite swarm, incinerating them instantly. The mastiff staggered, smoking… but alive. The next moment, it straightened, completely unaware it had just been saved, ready to attack again.
Amandinne was nothing more than a heap of charred remains and convulsing scraps of flesh. But something in that mound of putrid meat began to reform. A dark, glistening core pulsed at the center of the remains. The surviving worms scattered, trying to flee.
Georges did not hesitate. He raised his hand, and the unharmed mastiff understood.
With a deep growl, the creature leaped one final time. Its jaws snapped shut on the core, which exploded in its maw.
Silence fell, and the hound licked its lips as if nothing had happened, staring at the remaining worms with hunger.
Black ashes drifted into the air. The last remnants of Amandinne vanished into dust.
Georges stood motionless for a moment, his breath shallow. Then, slowly, he lowered his hand. The mastiffs sat, finally awaiting an order.
The fight was over.