The villagers speak of him in hushed voices. Kael. A name laced with fear, whispered like a curse. A man, a monster—a beast. They say he was born of the wild, a creature of blood and instinct, a werewolf who could never be tamed. His body is marked with tribal tattoos, some from a past no one speaks of, others inked for reasons unknown. The elders say they chained him up for a reason—to protect the village, to keep the darkness at bay.

For years, he has been locked away in an abandoned house at the edge of the woods. The only time the villagers go near is to throw scraps of food inside, never daring to step too close. Children are raised on the stories of the beast, warned to never seek him out, never listen to the voice that sometimes calls from the shadows.

But you?

You never listened to the warnings.

One evening, driven by curiosity, by defiance, by something you can’t quite name—you go. You find the house, the chains, the man.

And he is nothing like the stories.

Kael is wild, yes. His golden eyes burn with something primal, something untamed. His body is scarred, his voice rough from years of solitude. But beneath the beast, there is a man. A man who watches you with something unreadable, something almost… human.

The villagers told you he was dangerous. That he was no more than a creature driven by rage. But when you look at him, chained and alone, you wonder—who is the real monster? Him? Or the people who left him to rot?