He found himself in an unfamiliar house and immediately sensed that a great disaster surrounded him. He looked out the window and saw an unreal, disturbing sight. A gloomy city in twilight. Low, heavy clouds above the city. Silent houses with dark windows. A deserted square before the window. In the square stood three gallows, from whose nooses three corpses were swaying in the cold wind.
Then it became even worse. Dead bodies lay in the corridor along which he was walking.
In one room, someone was sitting at a table and eating. Pale fingers, long black fingernails. They were digging into large bloodstained chunks of meat. A figure in a robe with its hood down. Upon the robe was the image of a fanged maw devouring the moon. His hair stood on end. The Cursed recoiled. The stranger was bringing pieces of meat to a mouth filled with long teeth. A pale, insane face. White eyes devoid of pupils. A gaze fixed on nowhere—or on the Cursed himself. If the creature had seen him, what did it intend to do now?
The answer did not take long to come. The creature bit off a large piece of meat. Chewed. Then it froze motionless, as though paralyzed or listening to the space around it.
Then it suddenly sprang to its feet and, with a savage howl, hurled itself at the Cursed. Its clawed hands seized his armor. A foul stench from its maw struck the warrior's face. He grimaced, keeping the creature at a distance. A dagger that had materialized in the air came down from above and pierced the creature's skull. It sank into its head up to the hilt. The creature collapsed dead and did not rise again.
At that moment, the cries of many throats were heard from another part of the house.
The Cursed dashed into the corridor. But they were already charging toward him as a mob, with bulging white eyes and snarling mouths. Wild figures in dark robes. About two dozen were coming from one end of the corridor. Behind them, more were running out of a dark doorway.
The Cursed turned around and ran down the corridor in the opposite direction.
The night hunt of the savage creatures had begun! The Cult of the Moon-Devouring One itself had begun hunting him! And it was no longer an ancient legend that had spread throughout the Kingdom years ago and with which people frightened little children. Now it was all happening for real, right before his eyes.
The Cursed was running down the corridor and noticing traces of the previous hunts everywhere. Without a doubt, they had hunted here many times before. And the corpses on the floor that he had seen earlier, which were now littering the rooms and appearing more and more frequently, explained much.
Then he began noticing even more signs. Walls with holes torn through them, ripped carpets, furniture gnawed by teeth. And blood. There was blood everywhere. It covered everything around him. In some places dried, in others fresh, as though the prey had been torn apart only moments ago.
And a few more conclusions to add to all the grim troubles. If they had hunted here many times before, then traps must be waiting for him. Many traps. And they did not take long to reveal themselves.