It spoke as if it were trying to convince itself into following advice that its animalistic urges pushed against, audibly trying to hold onto scraps of humanity with splintered fingers.

The beast’s inhumanly hot breath washed over her like a curtain, the smell of blood so intense it nauseated. Even still, she felt no fight or flight instinct.

“Oh, there you are,” it said warmly. “My apologies, my eyes aren’t quite what they used to be. Eating my eyelids was a regrettable decision, I must admit. Did… Did Quincy send you? The barkeep with delicious fingers?”

Its words bubbled from its throat in a bizarre manner, its tongue clearly not suited to such refined speech, and yet there it was, speaking as cordially as any well-educated citizen. Unable to bear it any longer, she exhaled and whipped around, taking a step backwards as she raised her gun to the beast in preparation.

It was… A person? Or, it had been a person, at some point in the distant past. The creature’s distended, skeletal form loomed in place, nearly stone-still. It had snow-white skin covered in patchy, deer-like fur, huge patches missing on its unnaturally long arms and legs, clearly chewed off. Its hands had no skin whatsoever, its fingertips stripped down to the bone and sharpened into talons.

What struck her most about the pitiful creature, however, was its head. A pair of antlers crowned it, and it had matted, blood-encrusted brown hair hanging between them. It had no lips, likely having chewed them off, and its bright green eyes stared unblinking from their sockets, the whites bloodshot and yellow. Even its ears were just bloody holes.

“Ah… Hello? Did Quincy send you?” repeated the beast, this time with genuine concern, cocking its head.

“Yes. Quincy sent me to end you,” she admitted, making no effort to hide either the Fog that poured from her mouth with each word, or the caution in her voice. The beast laughed a sad, sonorous rumble.

“No, no no no,” its head swayed from side to side. “You were to be my meal, so that this curse of mine doesn’t overtake me. But alas...”

It sniffed in her direction, then coughed and spat a bloody loogie in disgust.

“You are not edible.”

“Oh?” Zel raised an eyebrow. “How come? Are you not a man-eating beast?”

The beast gave a slow, cautious nod, “Unfortunately so. The scent of man is intoxicating to my appetite, it brings out this cursed form’s instincts and strips control from me, sooner or later. I thought you had taken actions to hide your scent, but now...”

It took a small step towards her, leaning in for another whiff. It retched, then audibly swallowed something.

“I realize that your scent is not that of man,” it said, disappointment audible in its voice. “You reek of primordial mercury and alkahest, of alembics and elixirs. Human or not, partaking of your flesh would spell my doom.”

Zelsys could no longer resist the impulse that tried to twist her face into an irreverent grin.