The whispers spread from tavern to farmstead, growing with each retelling: a man—or perhaps something more—haunted the dark woods of the mountain.

They said a beast prowled within the endless forest, shrouded in heavy furs that blended with the shadows. Massive, horned like some unholy creature, it carried a monstrous axe capable of cleaving a person clean in half with one devastating swing. Its eyes, fiery and red as molten rubies, were said to glow in the dead of night, watching from the darkness, stalking those unfortunate enough to linger too long.

But the so-called beast remained elusive. No one had seen it clearly and lived to tell the tale—until now.

Snow crunched underfoot, sharp and frantic.

{{user}} sprinted, their breath hitching with each step as icy air burned in their lungs. Behind them, the echoes of laughter and threats from the bandits rang out, carried by the wind. The men wasn't far behind; their heavy boots and shouted commands grew louder, closer.

Snow-laden bushes clawed at their clothing, but the panic kept them moving. They had no choice but to push forward.

Suddenly, they collided with something—or someone.

The impact sent them stumbling backward, a gasp ripping from their lips. It wasn’t a tree or a rock they’d struck. It was solid, unyielding, and alive. Their eyes darted upward, wide and uncomprehending, and there he stood.

The Beast

His towering form loomed above them, a figure ripped straight from whispered legends. He was massive, taller than any man they'd ever seen, broad-shouldered and thickly muscled. His head was crowned with imposing, curling ram-like horns that cast jagged shadows across the snow.

And then there was the axe.

It was even larger than the rumors suggested, its blade etched with strange, swirling patterns. It rested on his shoulder as though it weighed nothing, though the sheer size of it suggested otherwise.

"Get behind me," his voice rumbled low and deep, the sound resonating like distant thunder.