Marvel: Scientist reborn as Superman

"Where are you going so late?" Ethan sits up on his creaky bunk, squinting in the semi-darkness of the room. There is surprise in his voice and reproach in his eyes, as if to say, how dare I leave the house without him.

I freeze for a moment at the door, turn to my friend and reply with a slightly cocky smile:

"Well, you know: the forest, the full moon, a beautiful girl... In short, I went for a walk."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Ethan raises his eyebrows and hisses indignantly, trying to sit more comfortably. "When did you manage to get yourself a girlfriend? And why you and not me?!"

He looks at me as if I've secretly eaten all his pizza and left him nothing.

"Not everyone is as stupid as you," I parry with feigned malice, winking.

Ethan gasps as if in hurt and is about to respond, but I've already slipped out into the dark hallway. I can still hear him sigh heavily and mutter under his breath as he falls back onto his pillow.

It's cool outside. The night air hits my face with a chill, but it's pleasantly invigorating. The moon, full and slightly eerie, casts a bloody glow on the tops of the pine trees and sparse bushes. Pulling up the collar of my jacket and shoving my hands into my pockets, I quietly make my way to the edge of the camp, where the tree trunks are black. Looking into the distance, I catch sight of a faint female figure — it's Diana. She walks cautiously, occasionally looking back, as if expecting me to emerge from behind a tree and scare her. Well, that's not a bad idea...

I speed up and in an instant I'm behind her.

"Not looking for me, Little Red Riding Hood?" I whisper hoarsely in her ear.

As expected, the girl shudders, then with remarkable agility pushes off the ground and does a sharp forward somersault. Landing, she turns around and stares at me. At first, her eyes show terror, but it quickly gives way to rage — a flame of anger flares up, making her face flush.

"Bruce, you bastard!" she exclaims, trying to suppress the tremor in her voice. "Do you want me to have a heart attack? You can't sneak up on me like that! Especially at night, in the woods! How do you manage to move so quietly?"

I just break into a broad smile, raising my hands in a feigned gesture of surrender:

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again..." "There's a hint of amusement in my voice. "But I'm glad I managed to surprise you. And, by the way, it's good to see you again, Diana. You look stunning in those sports shorts and a T-shirt," I add, glancing at her slender legs and narrow shoulders.

Diana glances at me shyly, blushing for a moment, but then quickly frowns:

"Stop teasing me. We didn't just come out for a walk. And it's definitely not a romantic date..."

"That's a shame," I say, pretending to be sad, turning to face her and lowering my voice slightly. "I would love to walk under the full moon with such a beautiful girl. It would be so romantic."

A sly smile flashes across Diana's face, and her eyes sparkle:

"Okay, let's consider this our first date. Although we didn't go to see a horror film, it seems like we're starring in one ourselves.

I pretend to be genuinely delighted:

"So this is an official date? Great!" I quickly take her hand, trying to be as gentle and gallant as possible. "If I'm not mistaken, couples walk holding hands, so we're on the right track."

Diana blinks, clearly considering my boldness, but she doesn't pull her hand away. Instead, she sighs heavily and follows me deeper into the forest along a barely visible path. I can feel how warm her palm is, even hot. Her heart is beating faster than usual, and I can hear her rapid breathing. It seems to me to be a mixture of fear, excitement and something else, something primitive and mesmerising.

It's almost midnight, and a blood-red moon is rising above us. Its eerie light makes the shadows stretch and bend into strange shapes. Diana's gaze reflects the sinister moon, and I notice something changing in her: she becomes more confident, stronger, her movements take on a predatory grace. A quiet, barely audible growl escapes through her clenched teeth. It brings me back to reality, reminding me that an animal essence flows through her veins. "The predator is out hunting," I think to myself, and I smile at her in response, trying to cheer her up.

We come out onto a small clearing bathed in a silvery-red glow. The wind ruffles our hair and stirs the leaves and grass around us. The scene is reminiscent of scenes from old legends, where warriors gather to fight one last battle. 

Straining my eyes, I notice movement: in the distance, several kilometres away, there are werewolves. They are moving in a tight group — about fifty, no, more than fifty beasts. They are wolves, but not ordinary ones: large, with burning eyes and an almost human, intelligent gaze. One of them stands out in particular: he is larger than the others, and his fur is a deep scarlet colour, like dried blood. I compare him to Diana: there is a clear resemblance between them, except that she is smaller and darker, while this alpha male seems to have absorbed the bloody moon itself.

"Get ready, she-wolf," I say calmly, although inside I am already boiling with excitement. "It looks like they'll be here sooner than we expected."

Diana doesn't answer, only growls lowly. Then her body begins to change: her muscles shift, bones crack, her clothes tear and fall to the ground in shreds. In just a few seconds, a black she-wolf with burning amber eyes stands before me. Her mouth is half open, revealing terrifying fangs, and thick black fur stretches from her neck to her withers, vibrating as if trembling with excitement. I carefully place my hand on her withers and stroke her gently:

"Good dog," I murmur under my breath, allowing myself a light-hearted joke.

But the wolf immediately growls and snaps her teeth close to my hand, forcing me to pull it away at the last moment.

"Wow, she's aggressive!" I feign offence, raising my hands. "I just wanted to cheer you up, and if you weren't so mean, I would have rubbed your belly."

My response is another growl, now even angrier. Diana seems to be saying, "Don't push it." I don't want to anger her further, so I back away for a moment.

But then a mischievous thought pops into my head: why not go home and get a real weapon? With my abilities, it would only take a couple of seconds.

"All right, all right," I say to the she-wolf and abruptly take off. In just a moment, I am back in my room in my parents' house. The walls seem so quiet and peaceful compared to the oppressive atmosphere of the forest... But I don't linger; this is no time for memories. I grab the sword Abraham gave me from the wall — a magnificent flamberge with a wavy blade sharpened to a razor's edge. The blade glints slightly in the moonlight streaming through the open window. This weapon has always attracted my gaze with its deadly beauty, and now I am glad to hold it in my hands again.

I return to the clearing just as quickly. In the blink of an eye, I am back beside Diana. Now she is staring questioningly at the sword.

"Oh, I just ran home..." I explain, smiling slyly and raising the blade slightly so that the she-wolf can see its elegant curves. "We're running out of time, of course, but I thought it would be cool."

Diana the wolf suddenly snorts, as if she also approves of my resourcefulness, and lunges forward, crouching on her paws, ready to attack or pounce. I feel her predatory energy growing, spreading to me. My fingers tighten around the hilt of the flamberge. My heart begins to pound in my chest.

And at that very moment, from the other side of the clearing, out of the thick gloom, as if from the underworld itself, werewolves begin to appear, leaping out of the forest...

Time seemed to stand still: the moon hung over the gloomy treetops, the air was filled with the sharp smell of iron and damp earth, and the night sounds of the forest fell silent in anticipation of a bloody massacre. And at the same moment when the first werewolves rushed towards us with a terrifying growl, I felt a hot wave of impatience boiling up in my chest. As if in response to the cold metal that numbed my fingers, a primitive rage flowed through my veins.

The silvery-red moonlight picked out ugly, shaggy silhouettes from the darkness. Fifty-seven embittered creatures, maddened by blood, surrounded us in a semicircle, reinforcing the horror with their howls and the baring of their long fangs. Hunger glowed in their eyes, and their tense backs glistened in the moonlight. In the centre of the pack stood a red-haired alpha, a veritable giant whose fur resembled dried blood. His burning eyes indicated that he was not used to being resisted. But today, it seemed that this beast was about to encounter stronger prey than he had bargained for.

At the edge of my vision, I noticed a black she-wolf — Diana. She stood to my right, crouched low to the ground, ready to pounce at any moment and sink her fangs into her enemy's throat. Her amber eyes glowed in the darkness with a primal excitement. With every beat of my heart, I felt an invisible spark pass between us — we both craved battle.

The two large wolves did not wait for the signal: they lunged forward, baring their fangs and snarling. I lunged towards the nearest one. The creature only had time to flinch before my flamberge, describing an arc, entered its chest. The blade easily tore through the flesh, cutting through ribs and muscles, from which a foul-smelling stream of warm blood gushed out. The severed entrails peered out of the deep wound, and the body, almost cut in half, collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

I jerked the flamberge upwards, finally cutting the wolf in two, and, jumping aside, managed to block the deadly claws of another werewolf. Only a short, malicious laugh escaped my lips:

"Too easy," I exhaled, flicking the blood from my blade with a sharp flick.

My short comment was drowned out by a thunderous growl coming from the right: Diana threw herself onto the back of a massive grey wolf. The clicking of her fangs was clearly audible as she arched her back in a swift leap and sank her teeth into his neck. It tried to twist away, howling pitifully, but the she-wolf had already bitten through the flesh to the spine—bones cracked wildly. Fur and pieces of flesh flew in all directions as Diana jerked her mouth, tearing part of the animal's neck out. With a dull groan, the wolf fell on its side, emitting its last death rattles.

Abandoning the torn body, the she-wolf slid her amber gaze over me — even in her animal form, the question was clear: "Well, who's next?"

In response, I just nodded at her and darted to the side again. My heart was pounding as if it were being squeezed by iron clamps, but my body acted on its own, driven by some kind of combat ecstasy. Instantly jumping towards another werewolf, I swung my flamberge. Another wolf howled in terror as its front paws flew off with a nasty crunch, flooding the grass with a bright wave of blood. A short second blow — the blade passed through its ribs, finishing off the beast. The wolf collapsed, choking on its own blood.

The werewolves that remained behind howled, and in their howls I could now distinguish not only a battle cry, but also distinct panic. I could almost physically feel their fear: they were beginning to realise that this time it would not be so easy to tear their prey apart. Even the smell in the air changed — it was a mixture of entrails, adrenaline, and primal terror. I grinned and, raising my flamberge, made a challenging gesture with the blade, from which thick, almost black blood dripped.

The two werewolves decided not to waste any time. They rushed at me simultaneously, trying to surround me from different sides. Their tactics seemed well-rehearsed: one came from the left, baring his fangs, while the other swung his claws from the right, counting on his speed and surprise. But in a split second, I darted out of their field of vision and found myself behind the one on the left. He let out a short, muffled groan as I wrapped my fingers around his neck and jerked the flamberge sharply along his spine. A strangled rattle broke off along with the sound of cracking bones. The werewolf folded in half like a broken doll, and oily, dark red slime poured from the gaping wound. Innards and shreds of flesh fell onto the thick grass.

The second wolf only managed to scratch the air where I had been a moment ago with the tip of its claws. I shifted my weight to my right leg and struck it in the side with my elbow. The creature screeched, flew several metres and landed with a crunch in the bushes. Yelping and shaking its head, the wolf tried to get up, but I was already standing next to it. Another swing of the flamberge, and the beast's head rolled across the ground with a dull thud, leaving a bloody trail and its dead eyes turned towards the sky.

At the same time, I watched Diana, who seemed to be in a frenzy of battle. She darted between the attackers like a shadow, clawing and biting anything that tried to stand in her way. Her fur, once black, now glistened with blood flowing from countless wounds inflicted on her enemies. Time and again, the she-wolf spun around at impossible angles, tearing out throats with her claws or ripping open the belly of another unfortunate victim, not even giving them time to react. Horrific gurgling sounds mixed with the crunch of bones, and each slain wolf twitched in its death throes.

A terrible stench hung in the air: blood, fear, fur and guts scattered across the grass. The clearing had turned into a bloody battlefield, bathed in the red light of the moon. If I hadn't been in a combat trance, I might not have been able to suppress the urge to vomit at the sight of the carnage. But the adrenaline pounding in my temples gave me strength and desperate clarity of mind.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the silhouette of the alpha male, reddened like a burning coal. This huge beast differed from the others not only in size and brute strength, but also in the grim cruelty that was evident in all his movements. He slowly crept up behind Diana. She was busy with two other opponents, tearing one's throat out and kicking the other with her hind legs, so she didn't notice the leader approaching.

The alpha bared his fangs, crouching fiercely to the ground, ready to deliver a crushing blow. Saliva flowed from his mouth, and his silent, terrifying gaze burned with bloodthirsty confidence in an easy kill.

"No way, buddy..." I hissed and, without hesitating for a second, sprang from the spot, activating my super speed.

I materialised behind the red wolf just as he raised his paw, intending to strike Diana in the side and sink his claws into her ribs. Instead of the soft flesh of the she-wolf, his curved claws struck empty air. He barely had time to squeak in surprise before I grabbed him firmly by the tail. There was a sound like a branch snapping, and the creature howled wildly, struggling desperately to break free.

"Where are you going? Don't you want to fly?" I growled, feeling the thrill of battle coursing through me.

Putting all my strength into a sudden jerk, I spun the huge wolf above my head. Its paws flailed helplessly in the air, and a muffled howl escaped from its mouth. A moment later, I threw the carcass straight into the sky. The alpha took off, spinning his paws absurdly and whimpering hollowly as he gained altitude, and I only had time to notice the unbridled terror flashing in his eyes. A huge red figure flashed over the treetops and disappeared, leaving behind only a faint, broken howl.

The wolves, seized by a primitive fury, were completely mad. They attacked us in waves, acting more brazenly and furiously, but they were beginning to realise their powerlessness against our strength. Their fur, soaked with blood and saliva, bristled with endless rage, their eyes glinting madly in the moonlight. However, despite all their snarling and restless howling, I could feel animal fear growing inside them. It was this mixture of rage and terror that spurred me on, made me grip the hilt of my flamberge even tighter and enjoy the whistling sound of the blade as it shattered ribs and severed spines.

Small splashes of blood and shreds of flesh flew around, each time staining the grass in the clearing thicker and thicker, as if a virtuoso painter was tirelessly adding new dark crimson strokes to the overall tragic landscape. Now, instead of the familiar greenery, thick sludge mixed with blood and pieces of bodies sloshed underfoot, and the wind carried the nauseating smell of coppery moisture and wet wool to my nose.

My heart was beating in time with the battle rhythm set by the wolves: they kept coming and coming, pushing forward, filling the night forest with their piercing howls. But I already felt unstoppable. Adrenaline flowed through my veins like a wild stream, accelerating every movement to the limit. Time and again, the flamberge cut through the air with an angry whistle, followed by a crimson fountain and the eerie crack of bones. Penetrating another carcass, the blade seemed to sing, filling me with a strange delight at my ability to destroy these creatures with frightening ease.

Diana, completely absorbed in the fight, continued to tear apart the werewolves that were desperately trying to attack her from the flanks. The long black fur on the wolf's neck was thickly covered with the blood of her fallen enemies. I noticed that every time she managed to fend off another wolf's attack, she raised her powerful muzzle, baring her fangs in an angry snarl. At that moment, her eyes were filled with savagery mixed with cold determination.

One of the largest wolves — shaggy, with dull grey fur and a torn ear — tried to wear Diana down by pinning her down. His heavy body flew down with his mouth wide open, intending to break the she-wolf's resistance with a single leap. But she didn't even flinch: she seemed to flash her eyes mockingly and darted aside with lightning speed. Diana's hoarse growl rang out from above as she dove under the wolf, and in the same second, her fangs sank into his neck. His muscles and ligaments burst with a loud smacking sound under her jaw, and thick blood spurted onto the wolf's black muzzle. The wolf only managed to squeak pitifully, twitching convulsively, before Diana jerked her head, tearing the windpipe from his throat. A terrible rattle broke off, and the bitten body fell heavily onto the blood-soaked grass. The wolf growled, throwing aside the pieces of flesh that had been part of his neck just a moment ago.

"Good work," I shouted to her, trying to drown out the howling chaos around us.Diana only growled briefly in response, continuing to burn her next victim with her gaze. It seemed that her anger was directed not only at these wolves, but at the forest itself, at the entire cursed night that had brought us together with these creatures in a bloody battle.

Suddenly, we heard a piercing rustling sound above us, as if something heavy was splitting the air as it fell rapidly. I squinted, trying to see what was happening in the moonlit sky. And then a red spot flashed before my eyes: a huge wolf, the very same alpha with blood-red fur that I had sent flying into the sky with one mighty throw. Now he was flying down, describing a clumsy arc and waving his useless paws in a futile attempt to soften his fall.

The next second, there was a terrible thud that shook the earth, and the wolf, embedding itself in the bloody sludge, broke all its paws. Bones crunched beneath it, and a long howl escaped from its mouth, turning into a convulsive wheezing. It seemed as if his insides were being crushed, shifting and spilling out. And yet, by some miracle, the alpha was still clinging to life, writhing in agony.

I slowly approached him, listening intently to the continuous howling and whimpering of the other werewolves scattered around the clearing. Thick, warm blood pulsed from the alpha's numerous wounds, and with each breath, his chest caved in, exposing his torn insides. Diana, breathing heavily after the merciless battle, settled down on the other side, lowering her muzzle slightly but not taking her animalistic, rage-filled gaze off the dying wolf.

The alpha, sensing the end was near, tried to raise himself on his paws. However, they were too badly damaged from the fall, and the beast only slid, leaving bloody streaks on the trampled clearing. His glassy eyes expressed a hysterical mixture of fear and madness.

"You shouldn't have attacked my friend," I hissed through clenched teeth and raised my sword, holding it in front of me so that the wolf could see the deadly glint of the blade.

The creature's heavy, gurgling breath turned into a rattle, and it only emitted strained, almost guttural sounds, as if trying in vain to utter a curse. But no words came out.

"Your screams won't help anyone now," I added coldly, aiming the blade at its torn chest.

There was a loud smacking sound: the metal blade got stuck in the torn flesh for a moment, and then there was a soft crunch as I ran it along the ribs, as if cutting open a sack. There was also a wet popping sound — the alpha's heart had been cut almost in half. The beast tried to breathe out, but could only wheeze and then fell silent, rolling his eyes back. A gust of wind ruffled his blood-soaked fur, and he froze in a convulsion.

"Sweet dreams," I smiled grimly, pulling out the blade and tossing the pieces of still-twitching flesh aside.

The alpha's thunderous death struck the wolf pack dead. Those who were still alive — a pitiful handful of hunted creatures — began to retreat, whimpering and looking back at the ravaged clearing. Their paws trembled, their tongues hung limply, and their eyes expressed panic.

They had not taken more than a couple of steps back when one of the wolves, torn and bloodied, could not take it anymore and rushed headlong toward the forest. Perhaps he imagined he could escape us. But Diana, like a shadow, slid across his path. In another moment, her jaws flashed with sharp fangs, and the wolf let out a rattle as the black she-wolf tore out his spine with a single movement of her jaws. His entire back seemed to burst from within, spilling out lumps of flesh and protruding bone fragments. The corpse slumped to the ground like a sack, gaping with an ugly hole where the spine had been just a second ago.

The remaining two let out a desperate howling growl and rushed away, hoping to escape into the safety of the darkness of the thicket. But I didn't even give them a chance. Exchanging a brief glance of understanding with Diana, I moved forward with my supernatural speed. Two quick movements — and the wolves' heads rolled across the ground, their eyes still alive for a moment, reflecting the crimson moon. The echo of their unfinished howls rolled through the forest and faded away.

I grinned, and a moment later, two more wolf heads rolled across the ground.

Finally, silence reigned — heavy, hollow, as if the night itself was trying to comprehend the horror of what had happened. Only the rare convulsive gasps of the dying creatures and the random rustling of writhing bodies broke the gloomy silence. The clearing resembled the scene of a bloody harvest, where the moon itself was the reaper: mutilated carcasses lay everywhere, entrails spilled out, stained with thick wolf blood. The air, thick and sticky, reeked of the sickly metallic stench of death and rage.

I caught my breath and stopped, leaning my hand on the hilt of my flamberge as if seeking support. Inside, the fury of the battle still raged, and my heart pounded as if it refused to slow down. Diana stood nearby in the form of a black she-wolf, breathing heavily, almost gasping. Her muzzle was covered in blood, and her eyes, burning with an amber light, radiated unbridled power. Never before had she seemed so mesmerisingly terrifying, beautiful in her primal, wild fury.

"I think that's it," I finally breathed, trying to control my racing heartbeat. Cloudy blood oozed from my fingers and dripped onto the grass as I ran my hand across my cheek, which was covered in red splatters. I glanced briefly at Diana, and she growled lowly, as if confirming my words.

"Not a bad workout," I added quietly, glancing at the mutilated bodies and crimson pools quivering in the moonlight. Then, with a wry smile, I pulled at the collar of my bloodstained jacket: "Now I definitely need a shower. And... I'll have to throw away all these rags," I said with disgust, picking up the edge of the garment, which was soaked in stinking blood.

The she-wolf snorted briefly, and I easily caught the same thought in her growl: we need to clean ourselves of the sticky dirt and rags to wash away this film of carnage. Exhaustion, inseparable from inner triumph, gradually enveloped me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the remnants of feverish excitement. It seemed that every living creature in the clearing and the nearby forest had fallen silent, unable to comprehend the bloody madness that had just unfolded here.

Putting my flamberge on my shoulder, I turned and walked away from the bloodstained clearing, where mutilated bodies still writhed under the moonlight and those who had not been lucky enough to die instantly moaned pitifully. Rustling and gurgling sounds seemed to follow us, like the ghosts of unfinished souls. I felt strange in this black silence. When Diana and I first entered the fray, I was filled with righteous anger and an uncompromising determination to stop these monsters at any cost. But as soon as the battle was over, an incomprehensible mixture of grim satisfaction and detached horror awoke within me.

I knew I could have ended the fight much faster — all I had to do was use my monstrous speed and strength to the fullest. But somewhere deep down, I didn't want a quick victory. I wanted to taste the fight, hear the crack of bones, smell the blood. Abraham had once shown me records that made my blood run cold: villages laid waste, ravaged by these cursed creatures, mountains of dead bodies. I had sworn never to feel pity for such monsters. But it seemed my rage had gotten out of control. I enjoyed the slaughter — there's no other way to describe it. And although I should have felt shame, I felt only a dull, primitive satisfaction, as if I had satisfied a hunger that was tearing me apart from within.

"Yes, I'm some kind of maniac..." I smiled grimly to myself, feeling my breathing gradually even out. But these thoughts did not make me feel any better or calmer.

When I reached a quiet corner away from the clearing, the thick grass here was still relatively clean. I crouched down, then, after a moment's thought, sat down on the ground, placing my sword beside me. The moon hung in the sky, like a weary witness to the recent bloody massacre, casting everything around me in pale crimson hues. I wanted to let go of all the questions about why and how I had become so cruel. Perhaps this was how power multiplied by hatred worked: it awakened the darkest, most unpredictable sides of people.

Sitting there, I raised my head to the sky and stared at the ominous roundness of the moon, which still seemed to bear the reflection of spilled blood. The wind rustled restlessly in the treetops, leaving the feeling that the forest itself was watching us through the ghostly silhouettes of the branches.

Suddenly, my ears caught the cautious rustle of footsteps behind me. I turned and saw Diana — no longer in the guise of a wolf, but a human. She was slowly approaching, and the moonlight made her naked skin seem to shimmer in the twilight. Each step she took was confident and graceful, like a wild animal unaware of restraint. Her bright eyes burned with a strange mixture of defiance, passion, and something else that made my blood pound louder.

Her figure, shrouded in moonlight, seemed like the creation of a great sculptor: perfect proportions, smooth curves, delicate lines of her neck and shoulders. Step by step, she came closer, and I felt my heart begin to beat even faster. Even after all the carnage, after all the bloodshed and torn limbs, a desire awakened deep within me — sharp, uncontrollable, almost maddening.

Diana didn't say a word. She knelt down in front of me, as if to emphasise the moment of closeness, and, without giving me time to react, pressed her warm, slightly trembling lips firmly against mine. The thick, sweet bitterness of the blood clinging to our bodies mixed with passion, creating a wild, primal sensation. It was as if nature itself was approving of this frenzied rush of desire.

Her hands slid down my neck, clasped at the back of my head, her fingers tangling in my tousled hair. I felt the warmth of her skin spread across my body, awakening forgotten, animal instincts. My palms involuntarily pressed against her waist, feeling her tremble with mounting excitement. The kiss was rough, filled with an almost barbaric thirst — neither of us was in the mood for tender caresses. We threw ourselves at each other as if trying to release the pent-up rage mixed with a strange, frenzied passion.

The girl's lips bit mine, then parted in a low moan as I responded just as passionately, our breaths intertwining in a single hoarse rhythm. The moon rose higher, then lower — the concept of time and space seemed to dissolve. The cries of dying wolves, coming from the clearing nearby, made this closeness even more wild and wrong, but it was precisely this that awakened a powerful whirlwind of emotions in me. The same energy of the bloody night boiled within us, and we grabbed it with both hands, both hearts, crushing it into cruel pleasure.

If someone had entered this part of the forest at that moment, they would have found a truly absurd scene: two people locked in a passionate kiss under the moonlight, completely oblivious to reality, and just a few dozen steps away from them, a clearing covered in blood. Torn remains lay everywhere, and the plaintive whimpering of creatures still alive but mortally wounded could be heard. However, this did not bother us. The night and the moon became silent witnesses to our primitive madness, which turned fear and death into an unbridled desire to live and desire each other.

***

patreon.com/posts/marvel-scientist-133509526