Chapter 7 The Shadow in the Forest
The city beyond the forest had never been so quiet.
At least, that's how it felt to those who dared speak of it. Traders traveling along the outskirts whispered of a shadow taller than any man, black fur gleaming under moonlight, and eyes like molten steel. Farmers spoke of livestock slaughtered without a trace, blood drained and scattered like a warning. Hunters vanished—sometimes leaving bones behind, sometimes nothing at all. And the rumor spreading fastest of all was the name they feared to even speak aloud: Blake.
It started as whispers. "A monster," some said. "A wolf-man," said others. But soon, the words became warnings. And warnings became terror.
Blake had not sought this fame. He had not wanted it. Yet every act of protection, every hunter who tried to invade the forest, only made the name stronger. And with strength came fear—and with fear came stories.
From the safety of the trees, Blake watched a small group of humans, their torches flickering like fireflies against the dark. They moved cautiously, rifles at the ready, murmuring prayers he could not hear but could smell. Their scent alone—fear, anticipation, arrogance—was enough to make his stomach tighten.
He did not move at first, simply observing. The alpha wolf at his side nudged him gently. The pack circled quietly behind, shadows blending into the night.
"They think they can find us," he muttered under his breath, the sound rolling through the clearing like distant thunder.
The humans stopped near the edge of the forest, talking in hushed, urgent tones. One of them, taller and broader than the rest, waved a hand toward the darkness. "Keep your eyes open," he said. "We've heard the stories. We know what's out here. But we need proof. Bring back a body or a scalp. Anything."
The words, arrogant and foolish, made Blake's chest tighten. His jaw clenched.
"Proof?" he growled. "You want proof?"
The forest answered him with silence.
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, until his massive frame became visible between the trees. Moonlight hit his black fur, making him look like smoke, shadow, and muscle all at once. His eyes glowed faintly in the dark, and every hair along his back bristled with warning.
The humans froze. Fear crawled over their skin, silent and heavy. One of them dropped his torch, sparks scattering across the leaves.
Blake did not move at first. He let them see him. Let them feel him. The weight of his presence pressed down on the group, suffocating and real.
"Who… who's there?" one of the humans stammered, voice trembling.
Blake's voice rolled from the darkness, low and resonant, like a storm that had been waiting decades to break.
"Who are you?" he said.
The humans looked at each other, uncertainty growing in their eyes.
"I—I… we're hunters," the tallest man said finally. "We heard… about the forest… about the beast."
Blake tilted his head. His glowing eyes bore into them, seeing their fear, their intentions, their weakness. "Beast?" he echoed, teeth glinting faintly. "I am not your beast. I am Blake."
The name hit the humans like a hammer. They flinched. Every story, every whisper they had heard now became real.
One of them tried to step forward, raising his rifle. His hand shook. "We… we need to know why," he said. "Why the attacks? Why the livestock? Why the hunters?"
Blake stepped closer. Each movement shook the earth beneath him. The humans stumbled backward, falling into the underbrush. Blake's eyes burned brighter, and the sound of his growl rolled through the forest, shaking leaves loose and sending birds fleeing into the night sky.
"Don't ask me," he thundered. "Ask my mother! Ask my father!"
The words hit them like a storm breaking apart the night. The tallest hunter fell to his knees, chest heaving, the blood draining from his face.
"They left me," Blake continued, voice now lower but even more dangerous, vibrating with rage and power. "They abandoned me in the woods. A child. Alone. Cold. Hungry. Afraid. And I survived. I am survival. And anyone who comes to harm those I protect will face the same fate. Blood for blood. Pain for pain. Fear for fear."
A silence fell over the clearing so heavy it felt like death itself.
The humans were frozen. Fear had stripped them of courage. One of the younger hunters sobbed quietly, unable to look at Blake. The tall man stared at him, eyes wide, realizing they had trespassed into something far beyond human comprehension.
Blake stepped closer, claws scraping lightly against the soil, leaving marks in the earth that would remain as warnings. The pack flanked him silently, every wolf growling softly, a chorus of predators united behind their leader.
"You think this is a game," Blake said, voice low now but heavy enough to rattle bones. "You think you can come into my forest, take, kill, destroy… and leave unpunished?"
The tall hunter shook his head, lips quivering. "N-no… we… we didn't know…"
Blake's laugh came then, deep, dark, rolling like distant thunder breaking through the clouds. It echoed across the forest, carrying with it the weight of decades of betrayal and pain.
"You didn't know?" he repeated. "You didn't know because no one ever knows until it's too late."
The humans tried to move, but fear rooted them to the spot. Their instincts screamed at them to flee, yet the ground felt like it had become glue. Blake's form towered over them, black and immense, his eyes glowing with the power of someone who had been broken and forged anew.
"You have heard of me," he said softly now, almost a whisper, yet every word rolled like thunder. "You have heard the stories. The whispers. The warnings. And now you know they are true."
The forest seemed to lean in, every leaf, every branch, every animal watching. Even the wind paused.
Blake took another step forward. The hunters screamed. His roar followed them like an avalanche, a warning that rippled through the trees and across the hills beyond.
The youngest hunter dropped to the ground, covering his head. The tall one stumbled backward, tripping over roots, landing hard on the soil. Blake's eyes followed him, unrelenting.
"You have a choice," Blake said, voice deep and deliberate. "Leave. And never speak my name. Never enter my forest again. If you do, you will not live to tell anyone."
The hunters scrambled to their feet, hands shaking, feet moving faster than thought. They ran blindly, stumbling over roots, leaving weapons, torches, and pride behind.
Blake watched them go, the glow in his eyes dimming slightly. His chest heaved with the rhythm of a storm—heavy, unstoppable, inevitable. Behind him, the pack howled in unison, marking their territory, marking their leader, marking the night.
From that night on, the forest bore a new legend. Humans spoke in hushed voices, traders avoided paths near the woods, and hunters crossed themselves at the mere thought of Blake. A black figure, taller than any man, faster than thought, stronger than any hunter, protector of the lost, the abandoned, and the wild.
And with every whisper, every fearful glance, Blake's reputation grew. Not because he sought it. Not because he craved it. But because he existed—and existence, in this world, was enough to make people tremble.
Blake returned to his cave, the pack following silently. Blood from the earlier kills had dried on his claws, dark and glistening in the moonlight. He flexed them slowly, flexing muscles he had forged from pain, hunger, and survival.
"They will fear us," one of the younger wolves said quietly, tail low but eyes alert.
"Yes," Blake said, voice rumbling softly now. "They should fear us. They should know that the forest is ours. That those who betray or harm will not leave alive."
He paused, listening to the wind move through the trees, the whispers of the forest carrying news faster than any human could comprehend. The name Blake spread, carried by every creature who had seen, smelled, or felt his presence.
Blake lifted his head, letting out a low, rumbling growl—a greeting to the night, a warning to all. The forest seemed to respond, alive, aware, bending to his will without question.
The humans would never forget this night.
The legend of Blake had begun.
And from the shadows of the forest, he watched, patient, waiting, knowing that anyone who dared test him would feel the full weight of the storm.