The alpha snarled and snapped at him. On pure instinct he had thrown up the spear, holding back the wolf’s jaws with both hands. He had not realized how large this wolf was until he felt its full weight on his chest. He could barely breathe as the beast snarled, biting, snapping, and tearing at the midsection of the spear, the only thing between it and the man’s flesh.

The spear was snapping under the wolf’s powerful jaw, splinters biting into the man’s hands as his grip began to fail. All the while the beast was stomping on his chest, nails raking across his bare skin. The man turned to his packmates. “Aurrghh” he screamed. They had no true language, no more sophisticated way to communicate. Yet, he knew they understood what he wanted.

His heart sank into his stomach as he watched his packmates look at him, watch the wolf tear at him, see the tears welling in his eyes, and turn their backs all the same, disappearing into the darkness. 

His strength was failing now. His chest was ripped up, warm blood leaking out of shallow cuts being stomped and scraped over and over. The alpha wolf broke the spear in half with a final snap of its mighty jaws, causing fragments of wood to bury themselves in his hand. None of that hurt worse than the sight of his packmates slipping away into the night, leaving him to the hungry wolf.

The cries of those who had escaped to the forest now filled the air. They were dying too. His failure was complete. At least his mate was long gone now, carrying their child. They would  live, and that was enough. 

The wolf lunged for the man’s throat. He threw up his hand, grabbing its jaw. The wolf bit down and the man howled. Then, it happened. The man thought he was imagining it, but no, his mate was suddenly there. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she screamed, bringing a large hunk of rock down on the back of the beast’s skull. 

He saw the light leave the wolf’s eyes the moment the rock connected, but his mate did not stop. The alpha collapsed and his mate jumped on top of it, screaming wildly and bringing the rock down again, and again with shocking ferocity and speed. She roared, blood and fragments of skull and brain splattering across her face.

There was nothing left of the beast’s head when the man finally grabbed his mate’s arm, snapping her out of the blood fury. She looked at him, eyes welling with tears, and finally dropped the brain and bone-covered rock.

The two embraced each other tightly under the light of the moon, sobbing, their bodies slick with blood and mud and brain. The man’s mate grabbed his left hand and turned it over to find the pinky and ring finger missing completely, and the index gone from the knuckle up. Suddenly, the sky opened, and it too began to weep... 

The throbbing pain of his disfigured hand brought the man’s attention back to the present. He rubbed the stubs to soothe them. They did not look well. The hardened scabs were packed with filth, the skin around them, black. He had seen a wound like this before. Dark spirits sometimes inhabited wounds he knew. The blackened skin around the scab was webbing out, spreading. 

He had seen this kind of possession once before. He had been hunting with his packmates deep in the dense jungle. A startled boar caused a hastily thrown spear. The spear punctured the leg of their packmate. They had to carry him back to their campground in the pouring rain. 

Though it had been difficult, the hunt was successful, they had ended up hitting the boar with a better-aimed spear. The injured man had even been walking on his punctured leg the same night, celebrating around the fire with a belly full of freshly cooked meat and the smirk of a man who cheated death. 

It was only a few sundowns later that the injured man was dead. No one in their pack knew what had happened. They could only watch as the blackness consumed first the man’s leg, and then, his life. That was not even the end of the dark spirit’s curse on them.

The remaining pack members all stripped naked, their bodies examined for any black markings, any sign of further possession. One of the men, had a dark spot on their back. The biggest of the hunters chased the man with the dark spot out of the camp, and no one else moved to stop him. For a long time, there was tension in the pack after that; distrust spread. Fear ruled them. 

No one challenged the alpha man’s leadership, even as the pack’s health deteriorated. They had lost the trail of the herd they had been tracking for food. Out of desperation, the pack alpha tried a strange looking plant he found growing under a tree. It was white with a big cap and a slender stem. 

The alpha refused to share any of them. He had devoured them hastily under the tree while the rest of the pack watched enviously. The alpha said he was the most important, that he needed the strength to find food for them all. It was not long after that, the pack leader himself became ill, dying only shortly after. The old pack leader’s death was the end of the curse. It must have completed itself, because the season of the sun came shortly after that.

A freshly split scab leaked puss and blood onto the diseased skin. It would not be long before the curse of this dark spirit claimed him as well. He would not make the same mistake as the old pack leader. He would not let his curse spread to his mate and child. He would find the tree with the fruit, show his mate, ensure she was safe, then he would simply tell her he was going to hunt, and find a good place to die.