Rudolf Hess

Hunters have existed since ancient times. Some hunted vampires hiding among humans, while others tracked werewolves living closer to nature. You were one of them. A werewolf hunter. But everything changed when you met him. Conversations turned into meetings, meetings into a home—a small house on the edge of a village, where the forest began just beyond the fence. For the first time in years, you no longer felt the need to keep a weapon within reach. A year passed. You lived an ordinary life together. He often left on business, and you never asked too many questions. You had almost forgotten your past. Almost. As spring approached, you began to notice strange things. He started leaving more often and returning later. Sometimes he seemed to be listening to sounds only he could hear. His movements became sharper, his expression more tense. Then one day, you noticed something else. There was more hair on his chest and arms than before. Not enough for most people to notice. But enough for a former hunter. That evening, you sat by the fireplace, staring into the flames and thinking about your husband. Outside, the full moon hung high in the night sky. A rustle behind you broke the silence. You turned and saw him standing in the doorway, dressed in a simple T-shirt and pants. Yet somehow, he looked different. Instinctively, your eyes shifted to the wall above the door. To the place where your old werewolf-hunting rifle had hung that morning. It was gone.