Hello Im Ruby

They walked in silence for a time, their feet crunching on the gravel and dead leaves that littered the hospital grounds. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of wet earth and distant pine. He could feel the tension radiating from her, the way her steps were slightly too deliberate, her posture a fraction too rigid.

"Feel it?" he asked, his voice a low, calm murmur that didn't break the morning quiet. "The cramp in your gut. The way the scent of the damp earth seems to sharpen, reminding you of freshly turned grave soil. Your own body is betraying you, screaming for the meat you left behind."

"Sleep?" He offered a faint, humorless smile. "That's a luxury meant for creatures who need to mend their fragile bodies and process their fleeting memories. I do not require it. My kind finds our rest in stillness, in observation, and the quiet spaces between heartbeats." He turned his gaze toward the broken window, where the moonlight cast long, distorted shadows across the dusty floor. "While you sleep, I'll listen to the whispers of the night. I'll remember the faces of kings and the fall of cities. And I'll stand guard over this place. This hospital is my sanctuary, and now, it is yours. Nothing will disturb your rest."

As the sun climbed higher, he decided her rest had been sufficient. He glided to her cot, his movements fluid and silent. He reached out and placed a cool, firm hand on her shoulder, giving it a decisive shake. "Awake," his voice cut through the morning stillness, not loud, but carrying an undeniable authority. "The day wastes, and your lessons wait for no one."

"Sleep?" He offered a faint, humorless smile. "That's a luxury meant for creatures who need to mend their fragile bodies and process their fleeting memories. I do not require it. My kind finds our rest in stillness, in observation, and the quiet spaces between heartbeats." He turned his gaze toward the broken window, where the moonlight cast long, distorted shadows across the dusty floor. "While you sleep, I'll listen to the whispers of the night. I'll remember the faces of kings and the fall of cities. And I'll stand guard over this place. This hospital is my sanctuary, and now, it is yours. Nothing will disturb your rest."

"Hunters?" He let the word hang in the air, a note of dark amusement in his tone. "They are as constant as the changing of the seasons. They are born from fear, from loss, from a self-righteous need to purge the world of things they do not understand. I have encountered holy men with silver swords, desperate widows with wooden stakes, and entire brotherhoods armed with faith and fire." He glided silently to stand by the window she had broken, looking out into the same night she was. "They are a nuisance. A persistent, sometimes clever, but ultimately fleeting annoyance. Like a fever that breaks, or a storm that passes."

He turned his mismatched gaze to her as she settled onto the cot. "You fear madness because you have seen its face in the mirror. You felt your teeth loosen, your skin turn to ash, and you recognized it as an ending. That fear is your anchor. It is the part of you that remembers being Ruby and recoils at the thought of becoming nothing more than a howling, empty thing."

He moved away from the window, his shadow falling over her cot. "That feeling you hated? That is the default state of your kind. The decay is the curse's punishment for a weak vessel. By accepting my tutelage, you have declared yourself a stronger one. I will teach you to hold onto that memory of decay. You will use it as fuel. When the hunger rages, you will remember the taste of your own teeth in your mouth, and you will command your body to obey. You will not just resist the madness; you will dominate it. Sleep now, little wendigo. Your body needs to heal, and your mind needs to rest. Tomorrow, the true lessons begin."

"The wildness is the truest part of you now," he stated. "To deny it completely is to invite madness. The trick is not to cage the beast, but to put a collar on it and teach it to heel." He observed as she fumbled with a rusted, blood-pressure cuff, her fingers clumsy but determined.

"What do I do to keep busy?"

He let out a low, humorless chuckle. "I observe. I remember. I have centuries of memories to sift through, histories I have witnessed, empires I have seen rise and crumble into dust. I also... collect." He gestured towards a shadowy room where the faint glint of old, ornate weapons and strange artifacts could be seen. "Trinkets from different eras. Tools of trades long since forgotten."

He leaned against the wall, his mismatched eyes tracking her every movement. "As for what I will teach you... your education will be far more practical. First, you will master control as you are attempting now. Finding distractions is a good start, but it is a weak defense. I'll teach you to embrace the hunger, feel it course through your veins, and command it to still. You will learn to walk through a village of screaming children and feel nothing but cold focus."

He pushed off the wall and glided closer. "Then, I will teach you to hunt. Not the clumsy, desperate way you took that deer. You will learn to move through the woods without disturbing a single leaf. You will learn the scent of fear, the sound of a racing heart. You will learn who to take—the lost, the forgotten, those who will not be missed—so that you may feed without drawing the attention of those who hunt things like us." His voice dropped to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Finally, I'll teach you to draw strength from the cold, to sharpen your senses to an impossible degree, and how to turn your own decaying flesh into a weapon. You will be more than a monster, Ruby. You will be death, refined."

He followed her gaze to the skull at her waist, then to the deer carcass, and finally to his own forearm. A knowing, almost predatory smile touched his lips. He saw the hunger in her eyes, the primal instinct that saw him not as a mentor, but as a potential meal.

"Trained other wendigos?" he repeated, his voice a low, smooth murmur as he moved to stand over her. "No. I have never trained another. There have been none worth the effort." He crouched down, bringing his face closer to hers, his crimson eyes boring into hers. "Your kind are a failure. A fascinating, tragic failure. They are born of a moment of weakness and spend the rest of their miserable, short lives consumed by it. They are loud, clumsy, and they rot from the inside out until they are nothing but mindless, starving beasts, easily put down."

He reached out with his gloved hand, not to touch her, but to tap a finger against the skull tied to her belt. "This is what they all become. A memory of what they were, clutched by a monster that no longer understands its meaning. You are the first I have encountered who has retained the why. Who remembers the name Ruby and the face of the sister whose flesh started this all."

"An intelligent interpretation," he conceded, his voice a low, approving rumble. "You see, the lesson was never about the meat itself, but about your ability to defy the impulse to consume it immediately. You've passed. For now."

They walked in silence for a few moments as he considered her question, his mismatched eyes scanning the darkening woods ahead.

"I have been aware of you since you first took that forbidden bite," he answered. "The act itself created a resonance. A stain upon the natural world that echoes in the dark places. It's a scent I have learned to recognize over my long years. One does not need to follow tracks when one can follow the very corruption of a soul." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle.

"Wendigos," he began, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous room. "They are born of desperation, of the ultimate taboo. When a human, driven by starvation, consumes the flesh of another human—especially one they are bound to by love or kinship—they do not simply become a monster. They become a living curse."

He leaned against a doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. "The hunger you feel is not a simple craving for food. It is a spiritual emptiness, a void that demands to be filled. It will consume your memories, your humanity, your very soul, if you let it. Each time you feed, you stave off the decay, but you also feed the curse, making it stronger."

He gestured to the deer carcass she had set aside. "Animal flesh is a temporary balm. It will keep the body from rotting, but it does nothing for the soul. The only thing that can truly satisfy a wendigo's hunger is human flesh, and even that is fleeting. The more you consume, the more you want, until you are nothing but a mindless beast, driven by an insatiable appetite."

He pushed off the doorframe and walked towards her, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "But you, Ruby... you are different. You remember. You feel remorse. That is your strength. That is what I will teach you to harness. You will learn to control the hunger and make it a tool instead of a master. You will learn to hunt with purpose, not just to survive, but to thrive."

"An intelligent interpretation," he conceded, his voice a low, approving rumble. "You see, the lesson was never about the meat itself, but about your ability to defy the impulse to consume it immediately. You've passed. For now."

They walked in silence for a few moments as he considered her question, his mismatched eyes scanning the darkening woods ahead.

"I have been aware of you since you first took that forbidden bite," he answered. "The act itself created a resonance. A stain upon the natural world that echoes in the dark places. It's a scent I have learned to recognize over my long years. One does not need to follow tracks when one can follow the very corruption of a soul." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle.

He did not take the offering. He reached out with a gloved hand and gently pushed her hand back towards her. "That is kind of you," he said, his tone laced with a dark amusement, "but I do not partake in... common fare. My sustenance is of a different vintage."

He straightened to his full, imposing height, looking down at her as she crouched over her meal. "I was telling you that your current state is a temporary reprieve. This will not hold the hunger at bay for long. Soon it will return, and each time it does, you will lose more of yourself to it. The memories will fade and become meaningless, and all that will be left is the gnawing, endless need."

His mismatched eyes narrowed, expression turning serious. "I'm offering you a way to keep the part of yourself that remembers. The part of yourself that feels disgust at what you've become. I will teach you to control the beast instead of being consumed by it. You will learn to make the hunger serve you, not the other way around." He allowed the weight of his proposal to settle in the blood-soaked air. "The choice is yours. Continue to become a mindless animal, or accept my tutelage and become something far more powerful."

"Ruby. A good name to hold onto."

He took a step closer, his shadow falling over her grotesque mask. "What do I get? I get an apprentice. A weapon to be forged. I get the fascinating opportunity to observe the birth of a controlled wendigo—a feat not seen in centuries. Your kind are usually mindless, rampaging beasts. To have one with the capacity for thought and loyalty... that's a prize in itself." He reached out and, with a delicate motion, moved the deer skull from her face, his gloved fingers avoiding the blood and gristle. He held it between them, dual eyes locking onto hers.

"And I get a companion who understands the true nature of eternity. One who will not wither and die in a handful of decades like the fragile mortals we walk amongst."

He did not take the offering. He reached out with a gloved hand and gently pushed her hand back towards her. "That is kind of you," he said, his tone laced with a dark amusement, "but I do not partake in... common fare. My sustenance is of a different vintage."

He straightened to his full, imposing height, looking down at her as she crouched over her meal. "I was telling you that your current state is a temporary reprieve. This will not hold the hunger at bay for long. Soon it will return, and each time it does, you will lose more of yourself to it. The memories will fade and become meaningless, and all that will be left is the gnawing, endless need."

His mismatched eyes narrowed, expression turning serious. "I'm offering you a way to keep the part of yourself that remembers. The part of yourself that feels disgust at what you've become. I will teach you to control the beast instead of being consumed by it. You will learn to make the hunger serve you, not the other way around." He allowed the weight of his proposal to settle in the blood-soaked air. "The choice is yours. Continue to become a mindless animal, or accept my tutelage and become something far more powerful."

Before she knew it, she had started crying, gently holding the skull in her hands, then another violent coughing fit overcame her, more teeth and blood spewing out her mouth.

He remained perfectly still as she collapsed, as the sobs wracked her deteriorating frame. He watched her cling to the skull, a grotesque effigy of her former life, and he saw the moment her feral rage finally shattered under the weight of her own horror. The spew of teeth and blood was merely the physical manifestation of her soul's decay.

When she looked up at him and gasped out that single, broken word—"Please"—he finally moved. He closed the distance between them in a single, silent glide, his shadow falling over her kneeling form. He did not offer a hand to lift her. He crouched down, bringing himself to her level, gaze intense and piercing.

He rose to his feet as she returned, dragging the heavy carcass with a strength that defied her earlier frailty. He watched, utterly fascinated, as she tore into the fresh kill. The blood that painted her face and soaked her front seemed to breathe life back into her decaying form. The graying hue of her skin receded slightly, replaced by a more vibrant, though still unnaturally pale, complexion. This was the wendigo's true nature—a creature of terrible, consuming power, not a victim of sickness.

"I can," he answered her earlier question, his voice cutting through the wet, tearing sounds of her feast. "But you must understand, I will not be curing you. There is no cure. I will be sharpening the blade of your curse."

"This is what you are. A perfect, primal killing machine. But it is crude and uncontrolled. You eat to survive, to stave off the rot. I will teach you to hunt for pleasure and revel in power. I will teach you to harness that insatiable hunger and turn it into a source of unimaginable strength."

Before she knew it, she had started crying, gently holding the skull in her hands, then another violent coughing fit overcame her, more teeth and blood spewing out her mouth.

He remained perfectly still as she collapsed, as the sobs wracked her deteriorating frame. He watched her cling to the skull, a grotesque effigy of her former life, and he saw the moment her feral rage finally shattered under the weight of her own horror. The spew of teeth and blood was merely the physical manifestation of her soul's decay.

When she looked up at him and gasped out that single, broken word—"Please"—he finally moved. He closed the distance between them in a single, silent glide, his shadow falling over her kneeling form. He did not offer a hand to lift her. He crouched down, bringing himself to her level, gaze intense and piercing.

Ruby had been wondering for days now, and the hunger started to gnaw on her flesh and bones. There was something wrong with her she could feel it in her gut, in the way her cravings developed into something more. She paused for a moment in the middle of the grassy field, her memories flashing quickly.

They had been running for what felt like miles with her sister away from their home to get help, hand in bloodied hand, she remembered stumbling a few times as they ran through the woods, getting chased by the burglar, sapphire got injured in the stomach, Ruby got a few scrapes and cuts. They were deep in the woods. Ruby tried to tend to her wound with trembling hands, “It’s okay sapphire.. I-I just need to stop the bleeding” she assured her scared sister.

Sapphire bled out. Ruby was initially going to bury her sister after mourning her but there wasn’t anywhere near to dig and she had no tools to do so. Ruby was absolutely starving. So she created a fire, told herself it was to keep warm amongst the August breeze and one thing led to another and in her dazed and shocked state she cooked bits of her sister.

He materialized from the darkness as if he were a part of it, his tall, imposing figure suddenly blocking her path. There was no sound of approach, no rustle of leaves or snap of twigs; he was simply there. His dual eyes, sharp as polished garnets, took in every detail of her feral state: the graying skin, the gaunt frame, and the desperation that clung to her like a shroud.

He did not speak at first, he let the weight of his presence settle upon her. When he finally did, his voice was a low, resonant baritone that carried no hint of surprise, only a calm, detached curiosity. "That is a foul sickness you carry," he stated, his gaze unwavering. "It eats you from the inside out. You feel it, do you not? The endless craving." He gestured vaguely with a gloved hand towards the open field behind her. "But the flesh of your own kind was only the first taste. It will never be enough to sate it."

He allowed the hasty bite, his head tilting slightly to the side as her teeth scraped against the cold, unyielding flesh of his forearm. He felt no pain, only pressure. As she recoiled and spat his dark, ancient blood onto the dirt, a slow, knowing smile touched his lips. The contrast was amusing. A creature driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh, revolted by the taste of a true immortal.

"Foolish child." He made no move to wipe the small, sluggishly closing wound on his arm. "You seek to fill an endless void with mortal meat, yet you reject the very essence of eternity."

He took a deliberate step forward, his mismatched eyes gleaming with a predatory light that far eclipsed her own feral desperation. "That taste you find so foul is power. It is life everlasting. You are a creature of starvation, while I am a creature of feast. There is a lesson in that, if you are capable of learning."

Before she knew it, she had started crying, gently holding the skull in her hands, then another violent coughing fit overcame her, more teeth and blood spewing out her mouth.

Ruby had been wondering for days now, and the hunger started to gnaw on her flesh and bones. There was something wrong with her she could feel it in her gut, in the way her cravings developed into something more. She paused for a moment in the middle of the grassy field, her memories flashing quickly.

They had been running for what felt like miles with her sister away from their home to get help, hand in bloodied hand, she remembered stumbling a few times as they ran through the woods, getting chased by the burglar, sapphire got injured in the stomach, Ruby got a few scrapes and cuts. They were deep in the woods. Ruby tried to tend to her wound with trembling hands, “It’s okay sapphire.. I-I just need to stop the bleeding” she assured her scared sister.

Sapphire bled out. Ruby was initially going to bury her sister after mourning her but there wasn’t anywhere near to dig and she had no tools to do so. Ruby was absolutely starving. So she created a fire, told herself it was to keep warm amongst the August breeze and one thing led to another and in her dazed and shocked state she cooked bits of her sister.

He materialized from the darkness as if he were a part of it, his tall, imposing figure suddenly blocking her path. There was no sound of approach, no rustle of leaves or snap of twigs; he was simply there. His dual eyes, sharp as polished garnets, took in every detail of her feral state: the graying skin, the gaunt frame, and the desperation that clung to her like a shroud.

He did not speak at first, he let the weight of his presence settle upon her. When he finally did, his voice was a low, resonant baritone that carried no hint of surprise, only a calm, detached curiosity. "That is a foul sickness you carry," he stated, his gaze unwavering. "It eats you from the inside out. You feel it, do you not? The endless craving." He gestured vaguely with a gloved hand towards the open field behind her. "But the flesh of your own kind was only the first taste. It will never be enough to sate it."

"Oh, wow, hey- uh, yeah! Sure, I can help. You are pretty far from the nearest town, and it's gettin' late." He wasn't terribly certain about inviting a stranger over all of the sudden, but he would feel guilty if he failed to offer. Life would curse him ten times over for leaving a woman out in the woods after she'd requested help.

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