An octopus woman appeared—her body a twisted mix of a human shape and deep-sea nightmare. Her arms weren't arms. They were slick, long tentacles, twitching with fingers at the ends, like they had minds of their own. Her skin shimmered like oil under the moonlight. Every inch of her looked wrong. Wrong in a way that made your stomach turn just from looking.
The masters and Bryce froze the moment her eyes landed on them.
They couldn't move. Couldn't think. Just trapped in her stare, caught like prey.
Then, without a word, her tentacles shot out like whips. Fast. Ruthless. They wrapped around each of them—tight, like iron chains. The strength behind them was inhuman. Bones cracked. Air got crushed from their lungs. Struggling didn't matter. Her grip didn't ease, not even a little.
"Where is Raven?" she roared. The sound shook the air, like thunder in a storm.
Jaxon could barely breathe. His eyes were bulging, lips blue from lack of air. But somehow, he forced the words out, through clenched teeth and pain.
"Raven is dead."
The octopus woman leaned in close. Her mouth stretched into a sick grin. Her teeth were packed tight and razor sharp. The kind of mouth meant for tearing, not talking. Her grip tightened again. One of the masters let out a sharp gasp before his ribs gave in with a loud snap.
"Raven lives," she snarled, every word shaking with fury. "I can smell him. He's here. Where is he?!"
None of them answered. Maybe fear had locked their throats. Maybe they knew it wouldn't matter. Silence was all she got.
Her tentacles twitched once. Then squeezed.
One by one, their necks snapped like dry twigs. The sound echoed through the night, a series of sickening cracks and crunches. Their bodies dropped like dead weight, hitting the ground with thuds.
Then she screamed. Loud. Wild. The kind of scream that made the earth itself shudder.
And like smoke, she vanished—gone without a trace.
---
Deep in the woods, Executioner moved like a shadow. He barely made a sound, each step light and silent. But inside him, there was fire. A hunger burning in his chest, twisting in his gut.
His eyes locked onto a lone hunter in the distance. A man with a full pack and no clue he was being watched.
Executioner smiled. His sword gleamed faintly in the dark as he stepped forward.
He crouched low, then launched forward in one deadly leap. The hunter didn't even scream. The sword came down fast, slicing through his chest with brutal force. Blood sprayed, warm and thick. The man hit the ground in a heap—dead before he could blink.
Executioner crouched over the body. His tongue flicked out, licking his lips.
Then he stabbed down again, piercing the hunter's chest, ripping out the heart. Blood ran down the blade as he lifted it. Without hesitation, he bit into the heart. Tearing it apart with his teeth like an animal.
He chewed, swallowed, and smiled.
Then he pulled out the man's intestines and slurped them down one by one. His face was soaked in blood. His eyes were wild. But alive.
Then a cold wind swept in.
Executioner stopped chewing. He looked up slowly. He felt it—something was there. Something big.
The octopus woman stood in front of him. No sound. No warning. Just there, her eyes locked onto him, her rage screaming through her body.
But before either of them moved, something hit Executioner hard.
A memory.
Not his.
It crashed into him like lightning. And in that flash, he saw it—Raven's past.
A small home. A warm room. A family. Laughter.
Then, screams.
Blood everywhere. The floor soaked red. A mother, siblings—torn apart. Their limbs thrown across the room. Their eyes wide, staring in fear even after death.
And at the center, standing alone—Raven.
Still breathing.
Still smiling.
The one who killed them all.
As the memory faded, Executioner wiped the blood from his mouth and stood tall.
"Still alive, huh?" he said, voice mocking. "Thought I wiped out your whole family. Guess I missed one."
Her tentacles twitched hard. Her whole body shook. Fury burned in her eyes.
"Raven… You're a monster!"
Executioner smiled. Cold. Cruel.
"Not me," he said. "I'm just the Executioner. Him? He's the one who judges filth like you."
Then he moved.
Fast. His blade flashed like lightning. He dashed forward, cutting through the air.
The octopus woman screamed, spitting thick, sticky goo from her mouth. Executioner twisted midair, dodging it by inches. His sword spun in his hand as he threw it like a spear.
She blocked with a tentacle—barely. The sword flew back. He caught it. Landed. Kept moving, circling her like smoke, always out of reach.
Her tentacles lashed out, flaring wide.
"This is your end, Raven!" she hissed. "You'll pay for what you did!"
They shot at him. Fast. Too fast. They wrapped around him.
But Executioner didn't flinch.
He laughed.
"You really think you can stop me?"
Suddenly, red light exploded from his body. His eyes burned bright—like fire lit from within.
The tentacles caught in the blast sizzled and burned. The flesh blackened. Smoke rose. The air stank of scorched meat.
She screamed. Pulled back what was left of her arms.
Executioner didn't give her a chance.
Blood dripped from his mouth. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, still smiling.
His sword pulsed in his grip—alive. Hungry.
He dashed forward. Ducked low.
Then stabbed her throat.
Her eyes went wide. Shock. Fear.
He dragged the blade down, cutting her open from her neck all the way to her belly. Guts poured out. Blood rained.
She tried to scream again, but it was weak now. She stumbled. Her limbs shaking.
Executioner slashed again. Then again. Her tentacles fell one by one. Chopped off. Useless.
Then he raised his sword high.
And brought it down hard.
Her head flew off. Hit the ground. Rolled.
Then burst like rotten fruit.
Blood. Brains. Bone.
He didn't stop.
He hacked her face apart—eyes, mouth, ears—gone.
Then he stood over the mess. Breathing heavy. Covered in blood.
He laughed. Loud. Wild.
"Say hi to your family in hell."
Then he turned, and flew off into the trees.
---
Far ahead, the village of Ashwood lay quiet. Tucked beside a gentle river, lights glowed in the windows. Inside, elves laughed, told stories, sang songs. No one knew what was coming.
Guards stood watch at the gates, weapons ready. But the night felt calm.
Executioner stood in the shadows outside. A barrier shimmered in the air before him—keeping him out.
He didn't mind.
He leaned against a tree, watching.
Then, a boy ran out.
An elf kid. Maybe ten. Scared. Running like something was chasing him.
Executioner dropped from the branches.
"Hey, little one," he said, voice calm. Almost gentle. "Come here."
The boy stopped. Scared. But curious.
Executioner smiled.
"You wanna die?"
The boy nodded. Tears ran down his cheeks.
Executioner pulled out his sword. The blade caught the moonlight. Gleamed like it knew what was coming.
"This blade'll do it fast. You won't feel a thing."
But then he paused. Lifted the sword. Didn't swing yet.
"Tell me first… what's hiding in Ashwood? What secret are you protecting?"
The boy looked up. Eyes wide. Mouth shaking.
He saw the blood on Executioner's sword. A fresh drop fell. Hit the dirt with a soft sound.
And right then, the boy knew.
The one standing in front of him wasn't just a man.
He was the storm.
The shadow.
The Executioner.