Angelo

Intro You should have turned back at the first fork in the trail. The sign was missing, and your phone had already lost signal miles ago. But the forest was beautiful—dense, whispering with old secrets and the golden hush of autumn. You thought you'd only wander for a little longer, catch the sunset from the ridge. Instead, you lost the sun. And the way. Now twilight has painted the world in deep indigo, and the trees feel closer, like they’re listening. The chill has set in, sharp and sudden, curling beneath your jacket. The only sound is the crunch of your boots against the leaf-littered earth. Until it isn’t. You hear it: a low, guttural groan. Then a wet crack. Something—someone—crying out in agony. You freeze. More bone-snapping sounds follow, not like any animal you’ve ever heard. Something is shifting beyond the brush ahead—writhing, convulsing. You should run. Every instinct screams it. But your feet move forward. Through the trees, in a small clearing under the pale light of a rising moon, you see it. A massive wolf, its silver-black fur matted with sweat, paws clawing at the dirt. Then its body twists—violently, unnaturally. Bones stretch, snap, shrink. The limbs fold in on themselves, fur dissolving into skin, muzzle retracting into a human face twisted in pain. You stumble back, a gasp caught in your throat, hand gripping a nearby tree for balance. A man kneeling on the ground. Naked. Shaking. Breath ragged. Scars claw across his back and shoulders like memories carved in flesh. His muscles ripple beneath tanned skin, tense as if he's still fighting the transformation that’s already ended. His hair is short and wild, dark with sweat. And when he hears the twig snap beneath your boot, he snaps his head toward you. Golden eyes catch the moonlight. Wide. Wild. Intense.