—Good thing we calculated everything for the beginning of spring —said a young hooded woman wearing a juniper-colored cloak.

  In a forest of pines and some larches, with the remains of winter embodied by the little snow that still remained. The sun was almost setting and soon everything would be darkness. Between shadows and faint rays of light, the hooded man leading the group of five people dressed the same said:

  —It is time to make camp.

  It did not take long once they began. They were quick and orderly, each fulfilling their role, and they did not lack firewood and supplies. They ended up setting up two small tents and already had the campfire ready. They cooked some small squirrels they had hunted along the way and simply sat around the fire to rest and talk.

  They all removed their hoods to better feel the warmth of the fire, and their faces could be clearly seen. Sitting two on each log as makeshift seats, and one in his own place, they began to chat.

  —Well, once dawn breaks we can continue —said the leader, who sat alone.

  An older man, bearded, with light brown hair streaked with gray and green eyes. He took one of the squirrels skewered over the fire and began to eat calmly. The others imitated him and each took their portion.

  On one side of the campfire sat a young couple: a blond young man with red eyes and a pale girl with dark hair and green eyes. And on the other log, a pair of friends apparently from Nihon.

  —We still have a long road ahead of us, so eat well because you will need the energy —said the leader.

  —So, from here, how long would it take us to reach Kiev? —asked the girl whose name is Natasha.

  —I had calculated about four months, but seeing that the situation in this forest is calmer than I was told, it may be possible in three months —explained optimistically the leader named Ivan.

  —The hunters must have become more active, or perhaps now there are more mouths to feed —commented the young man Sergei.

  Ivan looked at him with amusement and let out a faint chuckle.

  —Maybe anything is possible, but what I heard says it is something else, a creature that devours anything and that has been ending any living being that crosses its path, a spawn born from nightmares —he leaned forward toward the fire. The upper part of his face was cast in shadow while the lower part was lit by the flame, and with a deep and grave tone in his voice he began to tell— Black as a bottomless pit, in its dark eyes a faint blue glow dazzles, a mouth without lips showing how its triangular and sharp teeth are part of its skull and, when it opens its mouth, the only thing you can see there is the death that awaits you. But that is only the best that can happen to you if you encounter it. Rumor has it that it is an artist in the art of cruelty. The worst that can happen to you is that it captures you alive and takes you to its lair. They say its hatred is such that it never tires of discovering new ways to generate gloom in its poor victim. Its imagination… has no limits.

  He slowly leaned back into a more comfortable posture. After that, absolute silence reigned. They all stared at the campfire, now almost in full darkness. They only ate what little remained of their food and…

  Crak!

  Something broke, apparently a branch. Everyone, except Ivan, turned uselessly to see what was beyond the darkness. Ivan only moved his eyes and told them:

  —Calm down, if it were something that could truly kill us, we wouldn’t still be sitting here. It’s probably owls hunting.

  —I know we’re supposedly in a safe area, but… what if we’re not? —asked one of the Nihonese women.

  —Relax, even if it doesn’t seem like it, I’ve passed through these places before. I never encountered anything that couldn’t be solved with shouting and threats. But enough of the anxiety, it’s better to go to sleep. I’ll take the first watch. Sergei, you’ll take the next one.

  After a short while, the group went to sleep and Ivan remained seated in his place, keeping the fire slightly burning.

  A few hours later, Ivan was still keeping watch. He trembled a little from the cold, as it had begun to snow lightly, though not enough to cover the ground. If it did, it would make the journey harder in the morning.

  —It really is cold. I would have liked to have been born a fire mana, but I suppose one has to manage with what one has —He brought his hands together and, whispering a chant, the snow that had fallen on him and the ice crystals that had formed in his beard evaporated instantly.

  He stopped seeing his breath in the cold and his trembling decreased. He felt more comfortable than before, and just when he began to feel his eyelids grow heavy, a hand approached his shoulder. He turned around warily with a knife and saw that it was Sergei.

  —Relax —the young man told him.

  —Sorry. It’s an old habit I thought I had forgotten.

  —It’s fine, just… don’t kill me.

  —I swear, I’ll be more careful.

  —Good. Well… I guess it’s my turn to keep watch now. Go get some rest, we need you in good shape in the morning.

  —All right. Here, take this, just in case —and he hands him the knife.

  —Fine… I hope I won’t need it.

  —I hope so too.

  Sergei sat for a while where Ivan had been. Nothing disturbed him. He grew bored and, since it was the only thing he had, he began inspecting the knife. Long, about half a forearm including the hand, shining like water, Damascus steel with a triangular pattern. The blade was simple, straight, with a curved tip, and the handle cylindrical with leather wrapped around it. An expensive knife, apparently. Sergei found it strange. What was a guide doing with such a knife?

  His doubts were suspended when he heard something. There was no doubt, it was something… large, cautious, and aware. Sergei began to hear the brushing of the early leaves that had fallen to the ground; it felt as if something was grazing them, avoiding stepping on them. With the knife ready in his hand, he stood up and raised his guard toward where the movement was coming from. Sergei felt insecure, in the middle of the darkness being the only one awake. He could not avoid feeling that he was being watched from behind, but he still did not take his eyes off the place he was guarding. He began to breathe heavily and slowly, showing the knife as a threat to whatever that thing was in the darkness. Then, the sound of it retreating with quick steps was heard. Sergei trembled suddenly, and Ivan came out of the tent alarmed by the noise. He noticed Sergei in the darkness, standing in the snow, and dragging himself on his knees until he stood behind him, he spoke in loud whispers:

  —What happened?

  —There’s something there, I don’t think it’s an animal.

  —What made you think that?

  —It recognized that I have a weapon, and it seems to be watching us… stalking us —Sergei said, frightened.

  Ivan, matching Sergei’s agitated breathing, looked around. He could barely make out the surroundings due to the darkness. He thought for a moment in fear and decided to go wake the others cautiously. Once the five were gathered in one spot, the women at the exits of their tents while remaining inside and the men outside, Ivan told them:

  —We have to move, there’s something here and I don’t think it’s harmless.

  —Do we have to? —Natasha asked.

  —Call me paranoid, but I’ve never heard of a creature in these parts that prowls around a group of humans at night.

  —Can’t we scare it off like any animal? —said Nozomi, one of the Nihonese girls.

  —Pessimistically, I must say that the calmness of this forest did not feel natural to me, this is not an animal, in the worst of circumstances it may be the cause —Ivan said seriously.

  —The monster you told us about? —said the other Nihonese girl named Yoko, fear in her voice.

  —No, if that were real we would already be dead, let’s not waste any more time, pack everything and let’s march.

  Hurriedly, they packed everything in great haste and, when they were ready, Ivan, leading the group, walked in single file with the women in the middle and Sergei at the rear, watching the rearguard. The group walked carefully through the darkness, at times dragging their feet in the snow and striking the occasional branch. They had not lit a torch so as not to draw more attention from anything else; the light of one of the moons was enough to discern the forest surroundings, and Ivan already knew the path he always used to travel through there.

  For the moment they did not feel anyone pursuing them, but suddenly they heard scraping noises from one side. Ivan and Sergei stepped in front of the women and Ivan raised the knife. They heard sounds from a tree and it felt as if someone were climbing it from behind. They looked closely and saw something with strange limbs climbing the trunk. It reached the top, where they lost sight of the silhouette; even so, they did not move and remained alert.

  …

  …

  …they waited for something.

  One of the Nihonese women, Ivan could not tell which in the darkness, whether out of bravery or stupidity, picked up a rock from the ground and threw it hard at the top of the tree. Ivan tried to stop her, but it was too late. When it struck something, that thing leapt over them, passing to another tree. For a moment a silhouette was seen against the moon: a black stain that looked like a specter flying over them. Looking toward where it went, in the midst of the darkness a small red glow flashed for an instant. Yoko screamed:

  —?Yūrei!

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  And, terrified, she ran. Ivan tried to grab her, but he was too slow. She ran desperately along the more illuminated path, but then the group heard from the tree how that thing moved in Yoko’s direction and quickly approached her from the shadows. Nozomi tried to warn her, screaming in desperation, but that thing leapt on her from the leaves of a bush and dragged her into the darkness. Yoko vanished from the group’s sight and, shortly after, they, frozen with fear, began to hear horrible screams and struggles of pain.

  —??AHHHRRRR AHHHHRRR ITTAAAAI!! !!ITAI!! !!YADA... YADAAAA!! !!YAMETEEE!!

  —??YOKOOOOO!! – screamed Nozomi while trying to go toward her with tears and a reddened face, but Ivan held her back.

  — ?Enough! It’s too late —said Ivan— We can’t do anything —he said while they moved and he dragged the despairing girl.

  — ?What is that thing?! —said Natasha, terrified.

  — I don’t want to find out —said Sergei.

  — We have to leave ?Now! —said Ivan while pulling Nozomi by the arm, while she sobbed: “Yoko, Yoko”. Suddenly, Nozomi stumbled and slipped free from Ivan. He stopped and moved to help her up, but just before taking her hand, she was dragged backward by the feet, leaving a scream of horror behind her— ?Let’s go! – said Natasha after that scene.

  — ?No! There’s still time, I’m going after her, you light a torch —Ivan told them. Next, he firmly grabbed his knife and went after her. He followed the trail in the snow. His heart was beating in strong, steady pulses, he was not agitated, but his body was pushing blood through him to keep him as alert and warm as possible. He did not know what was at the end, he did not know if the girl would still be alive, he did not know if the knife would be of any use, but if there was the slightest hope of rescuing her, that would be enough. It was not far, about twenty-something meters; he reached the end and saw that Nozomi was clutching her left arm with her other hand. She was bleeding and frightened, breathing shakily and convulsively— A… tk… ete —she said to Ivan. He, unable to see well in the darkness, suddenly heard a sound near him. He looked to one side: there was a red point glowing faintly deep in the forest. It was at ground level, but then he watched, his breathing frozen, as that point began to rise to about a meter in height.

  Grabbing Nozomi by her uninjured arm, he pulled her toward him. As soon as she was on her feet, he pushed her toward the direction of their escape and they began running with all their strength. The two of them, agitated, hearts in their throats, felt how they were being watched. They felt how the wind that moved the leaves and branches of the trees was harmoniously accompanied by footsteps and the brushing of bushes someone was passing through.

  They did not look back, they did not want to. They feared that if they did, they would see their death face to face. It was far better to look ahead, where they kept their eyes on hope, however small it might be. Although they no longer knew where they were heading, they felt the sounds of their pursuer fade into the distance. Had they made it? Had they left it behind?

  Then Ivan led Nozomi behind a bush beside a tree, and the two of them plunged into it and lowered their heads.

  

  Sergei walked ahead of Natasha, who held the torch. Sergei did not carry it because both of his hands were occupied, holding a large, thick and heavy club he had torn from a tree. He walked at a hurried pace with his eyes wide open. Thanks to the torch they had lit, they could see several meters ahead of them, but even in the middle of the forest, the shadows cast by the trees made the surroundings deceptive.

  – Ah! What is that?! – Natasha whispered in alarm. Sergei pointed the club in the direction Natasha indicated with her finger, but it turned out to be only a shadow cast by a branch.

  – Ahff… fhhh – Sergei sighed. For a moment, his heart had started pumping twice as fast. He said nothing and they continued walking.

  Natasha stayed pressed against Sergei’s back; her breathing bounced off his cloak. Her cheeks, nose, and ears were red from the cold. She felt weak, tired, terrified, and the situation was not improving. She had not been able to sleep much and, from the very beginning of the journey, the food had barely been enough. She and Sergei came from the north of Mongol; they were fleeing the advance of its inhabitants toward the north. Before joining Ivan, they had begun the journey to Kiev with another group, but the nomads had attacked them and many died, others were enslaved and the survivors scattered.

  Since the north of the continent is extremely dangerous, as dragons and orcs (aggressive and warlike species) predominate, there are guides like Ivan who make a living transporting people safely. But now being captured by Mongols did not seem so bad; in the worst case she would have been sold to a khan and would have been a servant or part of the harem. Food, safety and value to her life were conditions much better than those she was suffering in the present...

  The pair walked carefully and kept searching for their companions. Suddenly, both of them heard something coming from above. They both looked up at once and noticed something jumping from treetop to treetop and, with difficulty, saw something falling. They froze in fear, but it all happened in an instant and what had fallen was a large tree branch. Natasha dropped the torch in fright and it fell into the snow. Sergei quickly picked it up and saved it, but soon the flame began to weaken; it gave off little more light than a candle.

  He placed Natasha under his arm and hurried her forward. They took quick and abrupt steps, searching for the path so they could finally get out of the forest. Gasp after gasp, they moved almost blindly through a deep endless pit. They no longer knew where they were; they only kept walking with the feeling that someone was watching them, and the uncertainty of whether that thing watching them would harm them.

  And they kept moving until, unexpectedly, from a tree, something latched onto Sergei. It was robust, almost the same height as him, and it was agitated. Ivan, who had come out of his hiding place ready to fight, thinking the creature was coming for them, desperate, with his knife stabbed with all his strength at whoever was approaching, and when he properly saw what stood before him, Sergei was already collapsing to the ground. Quickly he caught him in his arms; he had driven the knife straight into his heart, he might even have pierced through it.

  Sergei stammered his last breaths. Natasha had gone into shock and fell to her knees on the ground, covering her mouth tightly so as not to make a sound. In contrast, Nozomi no longer had a voice to scream; she was only silent, with dry and cracked lips, tear stains on her cheeks and frost on her eyelashes.

  — Sorry, sorry, sorry… — Ivan repeated to Sergei in his arms, in regret. The torch had gone out completely and would not burn again. Ivan gently laid Sergei on the ground and stood up to begin moving. He looked at Natasha and said:

  – We must leave – …And then he looked to see Nozomi, but she was no longer there. At first he felt confusion and, with the knife in his trembling hand, he began turning around and searching for where she might be. Suddenly, something fell from above. Ivan approached and saw that something was slightly buried in the snow. He nudged it with his foot and recoiled in fright when he saw it was a woman’s bare arm, bloodied and severed.

  Natasha and Ivan looked up and were horrified to see that Nozomi’s body was hanging as if suspended, convulsing, and something was making sounds as if it were chewing very fast. Also, a kind of cloak with large strands of fine and dark threads wrapped around the upper part from the shoulders, and within that amorphous creature a blue point shone.

  Ivan stood up faster than he ever had and ran toward somewhere, pulling Natasha along the way. Nozomi’s body fell to the ground like a sack of entrails; they all spilled across the snow. Then, afterward, the creature fell. Natasha, from the corner of her eye, looked back: something more or less the size of a dwarf seemed to be furry, with a round silhouette, but with multiple points along its outline. She could not distinguish its texture or surface due to the darkness, so it only looked like a shadow that had come to life and was now chasing them at speed.

  Ivan was already tired. What did it matter to keep running now? He had lost more than half of the group; one died because of him. So many journeys he had made, his life had been nothing more than mediocre. He had once been an officer in the army of Kiev, but the place where he fought and his enemies had been harsh, traumatic. Having been a stray bullet for a long time, after being shipwrecked due to a defeat, he found this way of living. Using his experience and knowledge of the area, he earned a generous amount of gold.

  What happened with the last group had been an act of goodwill, he thought. They had not reached even half of what he usually charged, but he felt pity for the victims of the Mongols. He knew very well what brutal warriors they had crossed paths with, and he made an exception to all the rules and doctrines he had imposed upon himself. It is a pity that led to his end. But if this was going to be his end anyway, he would die as the great soldier he once was.

  He stopped with Natasha; he was attentive to how close the creature would get and said to her:

  – Listen, I will distract it… — He said, out of breath – Once I saw a cabin around here, look for it and with luck there will be someone who helps you — Then Natasha, without saying anything, kept running for her life. She ran and ran; Ivan slowly faded into the darkness. She saw him from behind, with the knife raised and waiting for what had to come. Soon she could no longer see anything; if not for the moon she would not be able to see more than a blind person. She ran in exhaustion, not knowing where she was going; she no longer had food, nor water, nor light. Most likely she would soon die from the cold.

  She fell without energy into the snow; she could not move, she no longer had hope. Fighting against exhaustion, with effort she lifted the eyelid of the eye that was not buried in the snow. Then her pupil adjusted. A faint glow emanated from behind a group of trees. Perhaps she had already gone mad, but getting up and following that light was better than waiting to die in the snow. She walked with difficulty, trembling from the cold and it had begun to snow. Dragging her feet now, she passed the clusters of trees and saw that in front of her there was a cabin with light coming from inside. She smiled and tears of hope began to spring from her eyes. As if it were a miracle, she regained all her energy and jogged toward the door. Upon reaching it, she began to knock hard; she kept knocking and knocking, until the door opened and the light illuminated her face.

  In the morning, when the sun already illuminated the whole landscape, the foot of a pale man fell upon the ground marbled with shadows and light. This one, dressed entirely in black with thin clothes and a simple coat with nothing more than plain fabric, looked with his black eyes at the trail of blood left last night. The wind blows and the leaves strike against his dark wavy hair; with annoyance he removed them, waving his hand, and proceeded to walk.

  — Alguien se divirtió anoche – He murmured to himself – La pregunta es ?Qué cosa fue?... que yo sepa acá no hay ninguna criatura que cometa tal masacre además de mi – He said, while lifting Natasha’s head. He expressed confusion, her mouth was bloodied and her gaze showed detachment.

  – A ver dime… donde estaban acampando.

  Of course, there was no response – Debo arreglar esa costumbre de matar primero y preguntar después – He spoke to himself, continues walking calmly as if he were taking a walk to relax, and while he swings the severed head as if it were a picnic basket he commented.

  — No sé tú, pero para que esa cosa te hubiera hecho tocar mi puerta e ?Interrumpir mi lectura! Debió dar mucho miedo – He raised the head to the level of his eyes and said to it – Sin embargo, pendeja, en este bosque lo único que da miedo ?SOY YO! – And he threw it with furious force toward a rock that emerged from the ground. The head split in two and all the brains jumped out as if a drop of water had caused it when falling into a puddle. The man sighed deeply and then turned around to leave, but then… he heard a noise, a branch breaking. Slowly he turned around, and saw a thing with a lot of black hair over the remains of the head, chewing some parts.

  — ?Qué mierda? – He said with disgust. He grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it at it. When it struck its back, the thing quickly turned around and he then saw two eyes of different color: blue the right and red the left. It had wild hair, so long that it covered its entire back and reached

  – ?Puedes hablar?

  — ?что? – The child asked, confused.

  — Oh cierto ?Ты можешь говорить? Vaaa… no sé porque pregunto si ya sé que si – He said, striking his forehead with the palm – Bueno, Скажи, ?ты их убил?

  — да.

  The man pointed at him with his finger and then shot a black javelin that pierced the child’s chest and pinned him to the rock. The child, surprised, writhed in pain until, slowly, he became paralyzed in a horrifying pose and remained still like a statue. — ?Bien! Como me gusta hacer el trabajo rápido, me voy a comer – He said happily, and walking with a cheerful attitude he began to leave, but then he heard a groan. He stopped abruptly, his back straightened and he opened the fingers of his hand as if preparing a spell. He looked sideways, with his back still turned, and murmured:

  – Esa cosa… sigue viva.

  

  

  Serialization begins when "another day I'm going to die" ends.

  Chocolate is the best.