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I could not care less about why this pathetic specimen was chosen as the sacrifice.

The only details that mattered to me were how to find him and where I was supposed to bring him.

That’s it . I didn’t give a shit about his personal life then, and I don’t care right now.

I’m growing impatient with this production and only want what he can give me.

Wizard ignores me as he uses my arm to slowly drag the knife from Billy’s throat down the center of his chest. Humming softly as he strokes the blade across his soft stomach, almost lovingly, before stopping above where his dick hangs limp against a thatch of dark pubic hair.

“Your skin’s the only part of you that’s pure, though. Isn’t that right, Billy? ”

Billy moans against the tape covering his mouth as Wizard slowly drags the tip of the knife down his shriveled length.

“You like to hide behind yer computer screens, safe in yer parent’s basement where ye terrorizes little girls, don’t ye? And the underage kind are yer favorite, aren’t they.”

Billy frantically shakes his head, but otherwise stays still with the threat of the knife so close to his sorry excuse for a dick.

“That’s right. Billy here likes em’ real young.” Wizard clucks his tongue. “And you don’t just like to look, do ye, Billy-boy.”

No one is going to call me an upstanding citizen.

I’ve been told more than once I have a complete disregard for the well-being of others, and I’ll certainly be answering for my fair share of sins if I reach the pearly gates, but there are some things even off limits to me.

Kids are one of them. I didn’t have any qualms about ending Billy’s miserable life in the first place, but knowing I’ll be doing the world a favor kind of feels like my good deed to society.

“I’ll spare ye the details,” Wizard continues. “But trust me, it’s the devil who’s waitin’ for him. It’s not impure thoughts he’s guilty of.”

I’m no longer listening to him, something in the trees drawing my attention. One by one, strange symbols carved into pale birch bark begin glowing an eerie, icy blue. Except for the tree Billy’s hanging from. Carved into the rough oak is a slightly different symbol, and it’s glowing blood red.

My heart is pounding with excitement as I watch the unbelievable scene unfolding around me. When the knife drops away from Billy’s junk, he starts to scream. Twisting and kicking out with his taped ankles in a useless attempt to break free.

I’ll admit, there was a part of me that expected this not to work, but it’s happening! Magic is real , and there are other creatures out there. Maybe not in this world, not yet. But soon.

“What are you?” I slowly turn to look at Wizard, realizing he isn’t human. He can’t be.

“I’m exactly what I am,” he tells me, flashing an unhinged grin before he focuses back on Billy.

With the trees glowing with their eerie symbols all around us, Wizard uses my arm to press the knife back to Billy’s throat, holding it there for a moment before he releases my wrist and begins to chant.

His voice is unnaturally deep, with a heavy echo cutting through the sounds of Billy’s terror.

The words aren’t in any language I’ve ever heard, and the alien sound sends gooseflesh scuttling up the back of my neck and down my arms.

The night has been mostly clear, but now thick bands of clouds slowly stir overhead.

Swirling until they somehow focus the moonlight into a silvery beam that illuminates the wizard—because I realize it isn’t his name, but what he is—like a spotlight that exposes a shadowy tableau overlapping his form.

The tableau is a much larger and older version of the actual man.

Instead of leather and flannel, he’s wrapped in a cloak the color of midnight and his face is hidden by a deep cowl pulled so low only his long red beard is visible.

I’m frozen in place. The knife I have pressed to Billy’s quivering throat is all but forgotten as the wizard lifts his arms to the moon.

The movement is followed a moment later with a strobe-like motion by the tableau.

With his face lifted to the sky, the wizard’s silvery glowing eyes flash again before changing to the same icy blue as the symbols carved into the trees.

The air surrounding me grows thick and heavy as his chanting rises to a crescendo.

A single sharp word cracks through the still night, and he spins, swiping his hand in my direction.

Without needing to be told—or perhaps because I am compelled—my fingers tighten around the knife, and I press it into the side of Billy’s throat.

The blade cuts deeply, and in one smooth stroke, I drag it across his throat to the opposite side, severing his carotid and trachea in one slice.

Flesh and sinew part and I stumble to the side, barely avoiding the initial spurts of blood.

Billy’s eyelids peel wide as he chokes and coughs on the five liters of bright blood pouring from his neck. My mouth waters at the sight, and I cup myself through my pants at the sight of so much blood coating his naked body, pooling at his feet.

The air is thick with the coppery scent, and I can’t stop my groan of pleasure at the macabre sight. It doesn’t take long for the spurting blood to slow to a trickle. Billy’s eyes lose their luster, and his expression goes slack before his head falls forward and he loses consciousness.

The wizard takes up his chanting again as he strides over to stand directly in front of Billy’s lifeless body.

The tableau mimicking his every move a second behind him.

He steps into the pool of steaming blood and slaps his bare hands against Billy’s chest. His body jerks like he’s been electrocuted before going limp once more.

With his hands coated in blood, he lifts them up, as if to show them to the moon.

When the silvery moonlight hits them, his red stained palms turn a brilliant white that flares in time with the rhythm of each strange word.

All around me the air grows heavy, as if an unseen force is sucking the oxygen straight out of my lungs until I find myself struggling for every breath.

No! What is this?

The knife falls from my fingers, and I bring my hands to my throat as I gasp.

What is happening? My mouth opens and shuts as my eyes burn into the wizard’s back as he continues chanting, ignoring me completely.

My throat continues to close until it’s like trying to suck air through a stir stick.

My vision starts to tunnel, forcing me to my knees.

The wizard turns to look at me over his shoulder, and the last thing I see is a too wide grin stretching across his mouth before I fall forward, and everything goes dark.

Something tickles my cheek and I bat it away, but it keeps coming back until I’m jolted awake with a sharp slap across my face.

My eyes snap open.

“Oi, there ye are. Welcome back,” Wizard says with his harsh lilt.

He’s crouched over me. The shadowy tableau is gone, and he’s once again wearing leather, flannel and worn jeans. I glance up at the trees, but there are no glowing symbols. Sucking in a deep breath, there is no tightness blocking my airway and the coppery tang of blood is gone.

Did I dream all of that?

“What happened?” I ask, pushing myself to my feet, shaking off Wizards helping hand.

I turn around to face the old oak tree. The mutilated body hanging from the branch is gone. So is the pooled blood that coated the ground.

“I brought yer wee beasty through,” Wizard tells me nonchalantly. “Yer welcome.”

My stomach flips and my heart jumps excitedly. It wasn’t a dream, then ?

Scanning the trees surrounding the clearing, there are no signs of anything out of the ordinary. There certainly isn’t any sign of the creature I am paying him a small fortune to produce .

“Where? I want to see him.”

Wizard looks up at me like I grew a second head and scoffs. “Yer daft!” Then he turns to walk away. Before he can make it more than a few steps, I grab his elbow and pull him to a stop.

“No money until I have proof.”

The wizard rolls his eyes, which are back to their normal, unassuming hazel. “My bank account is already bloated with yer money. Thank ye, by the way. Ye’ll find your beastie on the night of the full moon, just like we agreed.”

Without another word, he pulls himself from my grasp and disappears into the trees. Leaving me alone in the middle of the dark woods with only the light of the moon overhead. I’m torn with going after him or turning back to the forest and searching for my monster on my own.

My hands are shaking with excitement as I rush into the trees, going the opposite direction Wizard stomped off in when a mournful howl pierces the air and stops me in my tracks. The forest goes silent and all the hair on my body lifts as the reality of what I’ve done truly sinks in.

I’m going to hunt a lycan.

I force myself to take another step, but it’s punctuated by a second low howl, and reason catches up with me.

I’m unarmed. Unprepared. The lycan is probably not fit for hunting either and the point isn’t just to kill it. The whole point is the hunt. The sport.

Gritting my teeth, I take a step back. Then another.

I want to see my lycan, but Wizard is right. It’s best to wait. Besides, I have trail cameras set up all over this forest. I can watch my beastie through them until the full moon. The Hunter’s Moon . Then we will meet for the first and last time.