Victor froze. The Black Hound towered over him even while it was sitting. Its tail flowed like black ink, breaking off into wisps that faded into nothingness. Its eyes glowed like two bright yellow, spinning suns, its nose speckled with golden dust. 

“Why?” was all Victor managed to ask. The corner of his eyes gleamed with tears. 

The Black Hound rose and drew close until they nearly touched. Its expression indicated that it was waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Why me? Out of all of the people…” Victor sobbed. 

The Black Hound raised its head, looking off into the shadows. “I did not choose you just as I did not choose any of the others. The moon made our souls one.” Its voice was like nothing Victor had ever heard before, as if a man and a woman were speaking simultaneously.

“Well, tell the moon to undo it!” Victor protested, pounding his fists against the Black Hound’s chest. 

The Black Hound looked down at him with pity, unhurt by his feeble attack. 

“I have no power over the moon. This is the way that I am, the way I have always been. I do not know how to break this cycle of rebirth; I do not know if I am supposed to.”

“You should have let me–” the words caught in Victor’s throat. 

“Although our souls may be one, we are not the same.” The Black Hound spoke. “My actions are not yours. I am the one who took over your body, the one to carry the blame.”

Tears trickled down Victor’s face, falling off his chin. 

“They were right, weren’t they?” he asked, his voice barely audible. “About us?”

The Black Hound shook its head. 

“I am a wild animal. I am bound to nature, which is neither cruel nor kind, just or unjust. If I am being hunted, then I must become the hunter…Nonetheless, I am sorry that you have become responsible for my actions.” The Black Hound explained. 

“So you only did it to save yourself.” Victor spat bitterly. 

“In a way yes, but in a way no.” The Black Hound said. “I may be a wild animal, but I still know of love. I have felt it in fleeting moments…gentle touches…passing charity…even us beasts form bonds. Your parents…they held no love in their hearts. I saw them before I was a part of you when I was nothing but a shadow. They killed hundreds…mercilessly…pointlessly. And they intended to do the same to you. They wanted to kill you because of me because I had happened to become bound to you. I could not let you die, not when I knew it would be my fault. They would stop at nothing until the light left your eyes…I had no other choice…”

“A life for a life doesn’t make things right,” Victor grumbled. 

“No, it doesn’t.” The Black Hound said. 

It lowered one of its front legs and bowed its head. 

“But I hope I can make things right.” It continued. “You can borrow my strength whenever you may need it in order to protect the ones you care about.”

“I…I don’t want anyone else to die.” Victor said. 

“Then no one shall. I will let you retain consciousness so you may guide our actions. Whether you choose to fight or surrender, I will be by your side.” The Black Hound said. 

Victor brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. 

“I thought that facing the truth–meeting you–that all of the hate in my heart would go away. But it’s still there, festering like an open wound. I loathed you, but now that you’re right here in front of me, I don’t think it was just you I hated.” he explained. “I’ve had this feeling since I was a kid. Maybe it was my parents or the stories I was told, but I’ve always felt like I …didn’t matter–that I could never matter the way other people did.” Victor pressed his face into his palms, gritting his teeth. “I feel as though I can only love myself through others…”

The Black Hound inched forward until its snout brushed Victor’s face, pressing against his forehead. The contour of their faces perfectly fit together, like two puzzle pieces. 

“You have always mattered. I can feel your past, present, and future…I can feel the lives you have touched and will touch if you continue down this path…I can feel the love surrounding your soul…” it spoke softly. “It will take time and patience, but you can learn to love yourself the way others love you. All things are capable of being loved, even if they feel as if they can’t be.”

Victor reached out, holding the Black Hound’s face between his hands as he cried. 

“I just wish I could see myself the way they see me…the way he sees me.” 

The Black Hound’s eyes brightened, filling the darkness with light. Moving memories appeared within the darkness, held within golden frames. Although Victor could recall each memory, they were no longer from his perspective but from those who had been around him. He saw himself from Phenelope’s point of view as he helped calm her down–when he complimented John’s greenhouse–when he had comforted Nicholas after learning his secret. He heard their thoughts–thoughts without words–that were filled with such warmth and affection for himself. Victor’s lips crinkled into an awkward smile, a single tear running down the side of his face. 

“Thank you,” he said, looking back at the Black Hound. 

“Are you ready to go back?” it asked. “I can keep you here for as long as you like.”

Victor took a long inhale and then sighed out his mouth. The next time he opened his eyes, they were brimming with determination. 

“I’m ready.”

. . .

Chase grinned as his finger pressed down on the trigger. The silver arrow launched through the air, spinning straight toward Victor’s bowed head. Just before the arrow could reach him, Victor grabbed it, stopping all its momentum at once. Black fur blossomed across his arm and grew along the corners of his face. Two pointed ears sprung up from his hair like a flower rising from the earth. As he opened his now bright yellow eyes, Victor lifted his lips and snarled. 

“Ah, there you are,” Chase said. 

“Enough,” Victor growled, tossing the arrow against the ground. “Leave. Now.”

“Not until I have my prize,” Chase said, hooking his thumb under his necklace. As Victor’s gaze moved down to the necklace, his eyes widened. 

“Are those all–?” he began to ask. 

“Kid, I didn’t get into this career for the pay–it’s a family business. Every single time the Black Hound rears its ugly face, my ancestors have been there to seal it away. And now it’s my turn.”

“B-But it never hurt anyone unless it was out of self-defense,” Victor said. 

“It doesn't matter what a monster does or doesn’t do–it’s still a monster.” 

“I used to be like you,” Victor said, stepping closer. “I was terrified of monsters, but then, I actually took the time to get to know some, and I realized that they’re not that different from us. They have families, friends, ambitions–they care about each other. There are some monsters that are actually dangerous, but they’re a rare few compared to the community living in this forest. I used to be overwhelmed at the idea that anything could be possible–I couldn’t accept that, at any moment, something terrible and uncontrollable could happen–but if anything is possible…then that means something beautiful and amazing can just walk into your life as well.”

Victor looked down at Nicholas with gentle, half-lidded eyes and smiled. 

“Nice story, but you won’t change my mind. And once I’m done with you, I can move on to eliminating all the other pests in Still Water.” Chase said. 

Victor thought of Penelope and Lyall–the lonely haradashi–even the nix down in the pond. He narrowed his eyes and bared his fangs, holding out his clawed hand to the side. 

“I won’t kill you, but I will stop you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

 Chase tossed the crossbow aside and slid a machete out of the sheath strapped to his waist. With a hysteric sneer, he lunged forward, swinging the machete wildly. The blade cut through the top of Victor’s ear as he dodged to the side, rolling across the freshly fallen snow. Chase swung downward, aiming for Victor's throat, but before the blade could reach, Victor caught the blade in his palm. He clamped down on the blade with his blackened claws, bending the metal. Chase gritted his teeth and continued to press down on the machete, drawing it closer to Victor’s neck. Victor, realizing he wouldn’t be able to overpower him,  raised his leg and kicked Chase in the abdomen, sending him backward. Chase tumbled across the ground, leaving a trail in the snow. As he got back to his feet, he let out a cough, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You think you’re the hero…you think you’re special just because you happened to have been born a monster,” he grumbled, cradling his ribs. 

The smirk on his face disappeared as he heard Victor chuckle. 

“Actually, I do,” Victor said. “For the first time in my life, I don’t…hate who I am. It doesn’t mean I think I’m better than anyone else…I just feel like I’m finally an equal–that I deserve to be here. I deserve to be alive and to want to be happy.” he explained, holding his fist over his heart. 

Chase let out a deranged yell and charged forward, stabbing his matchet straight forward. As Victor dodged, the blade skimmed his pants pocket, cutting it open. The small glass jar containing the metus mouse fell to the ground at Chase’s feet. Chase looked down at it curiously, cocking his head. The metus mouse was tapping on the glass with its two small pink paws.

“Don’t!” Victor yelled, holding out his hand. 

“Don’t what?” Chase taunted, hovering his foot over the jar. “Is this one of your little buddies? It would be a shame if I–” 

He slammed his boot down on the jar, shattering it. He crushed the glass beneath his heel, laughing maniacally. Inky black goo began to climb up his shoe, twisting up his leg. 

“W-What is this?” Chase yelled, trying to shake the goo loose. 

The goo continued to climb up his torso and over his chest, slowly consuming his body. Chase attempted to run, reaching out toward the sky, but the goo glued his legs to the ground and swallowed him whole. For a few moments, Chase stood deathly still, like a statue of writhing ink. Slowly, the goo began to melt back down into the earth, disappearing beneath the snow and leaving no trace of Chase behind. 

Victor stared at the ground with an unsure expression, a mix of relief and pity. He let out a sigh, his ears turning back over his head. 

“Um, would you mind lending a hand?” Nicholas called from behind. 

Victor spun around and ran to Nicholas, grabbing the net and casting it away. He knelt, helping Nicholas sit upright. There were criss-crossed burns across his skin which were quickly healing. Nicholas looked Victor up and down with one eyebrow raised. 

“I like the new look,” he commented playfully. His smirk quickly fell away from his face as he winced, grabbing at his chest. 

“Is it the burns?” Victor asked worriedly. 

“No, this…is it for me…” Nicholas said, holding onto a smile. 

“W-What?” 

“It’s the curse…I can feel it entering its final stage…” Nicholas said, collapsing into Victor’s arms. Nicholas’s body was changing, taking the shape of a beast. His face morphed into the figure Victor had seen walking the halls at night, only more inhumane than before. 

“N-No, you can’t!” Victor cried. Thick tears rolled down the sides of his pale face, dripping onto his satchel. With a loud gasp, Victor dove his hand into the satchel and retrieved the ruby amulet, pressing it against Nicholas’s chest. “Come on! Work!” he begged. 

Nicholas raised his hand, hooking his clawed thumb around Victor’s ear. 

“Victor, I'm so sorry. Everything you said back in the cave was right. I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did...I just wasn't ready to face what I've become-what I turned myself into." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I finally found the impossible…” he said hoarsely. Victor looked down at him with a confused look, tears still swimming in his eyes. “...because I could never imagine not loving you.” 

Victor cradled the back of Nicholas's head, bringing up his lips to meet his own. As their lips parted, red light fell across each of their faces, catching their gaze. The amulet was glowing, growing brighter by the second.

“Show your heart…” Victor recited breathlessly. 

The light began to weave together, taking the shape of a translucent, skeletal deer. Nicholas stared wide-eyed up at the animal; his mouth hung open ajar. The deer looked down at him with a neutral expression, lowering its neck so they were eye to eye. 

“I remember you…your fear…you wished not to die, and yet here you are, asking for death.” The deer spoke. Its voice was soft, barely a whisper. “You know that if you choose to break this contract, you will once again be mortal–you will age–you will die.”

“It’s okay,” Nicholas said. “My life before was barely a life to begin with. I want to start again, make some real friends, and honor the time that I have. Besides, getting to grow old with someone I love…that doesn’t sound so bad.” He reached out and grabbed Victor’s hand, intertwining their cold fingers. 

The deer’s eyes sparked with magical flame, its antlers erupting with leaves and flowers. Its magic swirled around Nicholas’s frame, reverting his body back to normal. The red faded from his eyes and his fangs retreated beneath his lips. 

“There. The curse is gone, and you once again are a mortal man.” the deer explained. It shifted its eyes over to Victor. “You know, I could remove the beast from your soul as well. You are not an immortal, but I have the ability to remove any hex, including your own.”

Victor took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Somewhere, deep inside himself, he could feel the Black Hound–he could sense its many lives–running through the darkened woods–howling in the moonlight. He blinked open his eyes and shook his head. 

“I think I’ll keep it,” he said. 

“Very well then.” the deer said, raising its head. 

It melted into liquid light, flowing back into the amulet. The ruby’s light faded until it became dull and lifeless.

“What do we do now?” Nicholas asked. 

“Well, there’s still a lot of cryptids that need our help,” Victor said. 

Nicholas looked up at him and chuckled. Together, they walked side by side through the snow, heading toward the Castle, which peaked through the darkened treetops.

. . .

If one were to travel to Still Water, they’d inevitably be met with a slew of gossip. Initially, the town’s most circulated rumor was of Nicholas Strange, but as time went on, a new rumor began to circulate. Apparently, a young gentleman had grown curious and visited the Castle where Strange lived. Ever since unusual occurrences had begun happening across Still Water, and many swore that a strange beast wandered the woods at night. Although many were familiar with the cry of the wolves, a new sound began to fill the starry evening–a distinct howl like none heard before–the howl of the Black Hound.