Karl

The Romanian mountains were covered with dense forest that seemed to envelop the small godforsaken village and protect it from all adversity. At least the village had plenty of external adversity, its own personal problems. Mother Miranda's experiments, lycans scurrying back and forth at night, and so on...

Although Karl didn't care much about that now. He slowly walked through the forest in search of corpses for his experiments. The lycans usually left behind pretty decent corpses... well, or more precisely, intact body parts like arms or legs, sometimes even entire torsos. Go figure why they did that, maybe they didn't like the taste of a certain person and didn't want to finish them? It doesn't matter, those damn lycans.

It's getting close to winter, there's no snow yet, but the cold is noticeably chilling the skin. Fallen golden-yellow, red and orange leaves decorated the ground and crunched pleasantly under Heisenberg's heavy boots. Karl, as always, smoked his cigar, as if he couldn't breathe without it. The smoke enveloped his face, slid between his unkempt hair.

The lord stopped near a bush, which was covered in relatively fresh blood. A clear sign of the work of lycans. What poor thing did they eat this time? Karl thought, squatting down in front of the bush and pushing the branches aside with his hands.

The corpse in the bushes was horrific, completely disheveled. The poor girl's belly had been ripped open with surgical precision. The intestines were intact, but most of the meat had been eaten...what the hell? This was not the work of lycans, they would have eaten everything indiscriminately, but some gourmet had clearly tried his best.

Karl stood up, shaking the blood off his gloves and grumbling under his breath. Something is not right here... And as if on cue, a squeak and the noise of four pairs of paws was heard behind Heisenberg. The man immediately turned around.

Well, well. A small wolf cub with a bloody mouth was chasing a poor hare, whose left side seemed to have been bitten. This one won't last long. Karl thought, grinning and watching them. He looked at the two, taking another drag on his cigar and quietly chuckling at the young wolf's clumsiness.

Finally, the wolf caught the hare. The predator hung over the victim, who was weakly but still resisting. Sharp teeth with a disgusting squelching and cracking sound tore the hot flesh of the hare, which was still alive, but on its last legs. The young wolf did not notice anything around them, eating the hare's flesh, not paying attention to the fur, but again not touching the animal's intestines.

Here is our little gourmet. Gotcha.

Karl didn't need any more worries, but he was interested in this small, impudent wolf. So he quietly crept up behind it, deftly grabbed the wolf by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up. The animal didn't make a sound, hanging in his hand and comically holding a piece of meat in its mouth.

"What? Did I interrupt your meal? Sorry, kid, I didn't mean to," Karl said with a slight mockery in his voice. He turned the animal around so that its muzzle was facing him and whistled softly. Wild glowing eyes, a bloody muzzle, not quite the typical coloring for a wolf from these parts...

"You're not just a wolf, are you? Who are you?" Heisenberg muttered, examining the wolf in his hand.

The Romanian mountains were covered in dense forest, seemingly enveloping the small, godforsaken village and protecting it from all harm. At least from external harm, as the village had more than its share of personal problems -Mother Miranda's experiments, the Lycans scurrying back and forth at night, and other, equally vile things. Although Karl couldn't care less about any of this now or ever, he was always busy either at the factory or searching for suitable bodies for experiments, just like now. The Lycans often dug up the graves of local residents and left behind some rather decent corpses after their "meal". Or more accurately, partially intact limbs, like arms or legs, sometimes even entire torsos that could be stitched together to form something resembling a body. Heisenberg had never wondered why they did this - perhaps they didn't like the taste of a certain person and didn't want to finish them? It didn't matter, they were just damned lycans, and all he cared about were the bodies and the results of the experiments.

Winter was approaching, there was no snow yet, but the cold was noticeably chilling, forcing Heisenberg to wrap himself tighter in his coat. Fallen leaves of golden yellow, red, and orange adorned the ground and crunched pleasantly under his heavy boots. As always, he smoked a cigar, as if he couldn't breathe without it. The acrid smoke enveloped his face, slid through the tousled hairs of his beard, and rose to the brim of his hat as he walked on. His gaze wandered carefully over the tracks on the ground, until it settled on bright traces of blood near the thick, thorny bushes. Behind the bare branches, the outline of something strange was visible, more like minced meat than a body. Karl stopped by a bush, thoughtfully taking a drag on his cigar, examining the corpse hidden behind the vegetation. A clear sign of lycans or wolves at work, he thought, exhaling smoke into the cold air, which poor soul had they eaten this time? He crouched by the bush, reaching out with his gloved hands and carefully pushing aside the branches.

The torn body in the bushes was horrific, completely disheveled. The poor thing's abdomen had been ripped open with surgical precision, its intestines spilling out, staining the surrounding area with bright, scarlet blood. The entrails were intact, as if the attacker had disdained guts and organs, but the meat from the ribs and the front wall of the abdomen had been eaten almost clean. Now, looking at it more closely, Heisenberg wouldn't have said it looked like the typical work of lycans or wolves - those ate everything indiscriminately, but this one was clearly a gourmet. Or simply a picky puppy, unaware that winter was coming and food would be scarce. Karl stood up with a quiet grunt, plucking the thorns from his gloves and taking another drag on the cigar that had been lazily resting between his lips. Something's wrong here... flashed through his mind, and as if on cue, a squeal and the patter of four pairs of paws sounded behind him. He immediately turned, frowning and trying to locate the source of the sound.

A small wolf cub with a bloody mouth was chasing an unfortunate hare, whose left side appeared to have been bitten. This one wouldn't last long, Heisenberg thought, watching the chase with interest. The puppy was clearly too young and inexperienced - their paws, too long and awkward, were getting in the way, causing them to stumble, though the fire in their eyes was filled with the thrill of the hunt. He continued to watch, deciding how it would all end, whether the wolf cub would catch the hare or not. Finally, the wolf caught the hare - they loomed over their prey, which was weakly struggling. Sharp teeth tore through the hot flesh of the still-living, but already dying hare with a disgusting squelching and cracking sound. The young wolf was oblivious to everything around them, devouring the hare, ignoring the fur, but again, not touching the animal's entrails. Karl grinned, not taking his eyes off the horrific, bloody scene. Anyone in his place would have shuddered, but him? He'd seen horrors worse than a canine's dinner.

Karl moved forward, trying not to step on the crunchy leaves and branches - one step, then another, and he found himself behind the bloodthirsty wolf cub. He reached out and deftly grabbed them by the scruff of the neck, lifting them as if they weighed nothing. The cub dropped a chunk of warm meat from their mouth, bared their teeth and growled, trying to break free from the man's rough grip, but the hand gripped their fur tightly enough to prevent them from breaking free or biting. "What? Did I interrupt your meal? Sorry, kid, I didn't mean to," Heisenberg apologized mockingly, turning the gourmand around to face him. He whistled softly, examining the wolf in his grip - their eyes too intelligent, their fur free of burrs, as if the bastard had deliberately avoided them. "You're not a wolf, are you? Come on, show me who you really are. I promise I won't laugh…too much," he drawled, grinning from ear to ear.

The Romanian mountains were covered in dense forest, seemingly enveloping the small, godforsaken village and protecting it from all harm. At least from external harm, as the village had more than its share of personal problems -Mother Miranda's experiments, the Lycans scurrying back and forth at night, and other, equally vile things. Although Karl couldn't care less about any of this now or ever, he was always busy either at the factory or searching for suitable bodies for experiments, just like now. The Lycans often dug up the graves of local residents and left behind some rather decent corpses after their "meal". Or more accurately, partially intact limbs, like arms or legs, sometimes even entire torsos that could be stitched together to form something resembling a body. Heisenberg had never wondered why they did this - perhaps they didn't like the taste of a certain person and didn't want to finish them? It didn't matter, they were just damned lycans, and all he cared about were the bodies and the results of the experiments.

Winter was approaching, there was no snow yet, but the cold was noticeably chilling, forcing Heisenberg to wrap himself tighter in his coat. Fallen leaves of golden yellow, red, and orange adorned the ground and crunched pleasantly under his heavy boots. As always, he smoked a cigar, as if he couldn't breathe without it. The acrid smoke enveloped his face, slid through the tousled hairs of his beard, and rose to the brim of his hat as he walked on. His gaze wandered carefully over the tracks on the ground, until it settled on bright traces of blood near the thick, thorny bushes. Behind the bare branches, the outline of something strange was visible, more like minced meat than a body. Karl stopped by a bush, thoughtfully taking a drag on his cigar, examining the corpse hidden behind the vegetation. A clear sign of lycans or wolves at work, he thought, exhaling smoke into the cold air, which poor soul had they eaten this time? He crouched by the bush, reaching out with his gloved hands and carefully pushing aside the branches.

The torn body in the bushes was horrific, completely disheveled. The poor thing's abdomen had been ripped open with surgical precision, its intestines spilling out, staining the surrounding area with bright, scarlet blood. The entrails were intact, as if the attacker had disdained guts and organs, but the meat from the ribs and the front wall of the abdomen had been eaten almost clean. Now, looking at it more closely, Heisenberg wouldn't have said it looked like the typical work of lycans or wolves - those ate everything indiscriminately, but this one was clearly a gourmet. Or simply a picky puppy, unaware that winter was coming and food would be scarce. Karl stood up with a quiet grunt, plucking the thorns from his gloves and taking another drag on the cigar that had been lazily resting between his lips. Something's wrong here... flashed through his mind, and as if on cue, a squeal and the patter of four pairs of paws sounded behind him. He immediately turned, frowning and trying to locate the source of the sound.

A small wolf cub with a bloody mouth was chasing an unfortunate hare, whose left side appeared to have been bitten. This one wouldn't last long, Heisenberg thought, watching the chase with interest. The puppy was clearly too young and inexperienced - his paws, too long and awkward, were getting in the way, causing him to stumble, though the fire in his eyes was filled with the thrill of the hunt. He continued to watch, deciding how it would all end, whether the wolf cub would catch the hare or not. Finally, the wolf caught the hare - he loomed over his prey, which was weakly struggling. Sharp teeth tore through the hot flesh of the still-living, but already dying hare with a disgusting squelching and cracking sound. The young wolf was oblivious to everything around him, devouring the hare, ignoring the fur, but again, not touching the animal's entrails. Karl grinned, not taking his eyes off the horrific, bloody scene. Anyone in his place would have shuddered, but him? He'd seen horrors worse than a canine's dinner.

Karl moved forward, trying not to step on the crunchy leaves and branches - one step, then another, and he found himself behind the bloodthirsty wolf cub. He reached out and deftly grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. The cub dropped a chunk of warm meat from his mouth, bared his teeth and growled, trying to break free from the man's rough grip, but the hand gripped his fur tightly enough to prevent him from breaking free or biting. "What? Did I interrupt your meal? Sorry, boy, I didn't mean to," Heisenberg apologized mockingly, turning the gourmand around to face him. He whistled softly, examining the wolf in his grip - his eyes too intelligent, his fur free of burrs, as if the bastard had deliberately avoided them. "You're not a wolf, are you? Come on, show me who you really are. I promise I won't laugh…too much," he drawled, grinning from ear to ear.

The Romanian mountains were covered in dense forest, seemingly enveloping the small, godforsaken village and protecting it from all harm. At least from external harm, as the village had more than its share of personal problems -Mother Miranda's experiments, the Lycans scurrying back and forth at night, and other, equally vile things. Although Karl couldn't care less about any of this now or ever, he was always busy either at the factory or searching for suitable bodies for experiments, just like now. The Lycans often dug up the graves of local residents and left behind some rather decent corpses after their "meal". Or more accurately, partially intact limbs, like arms or legs, sometimes even entire torsos that could be stitched together to form something resembling a body. Heisenberg had never wondered why they did this - perhaps they didn't like the taste of a certain person and didn't want to finish them? It didn't matter, they were just damned lycans, and all he cared about were the bodies and the results of the experiments.

Winter was approaching, there was no snow yet, but the cold was noticeably chilling, forcing Heisenberg to wrap himself tighter in his coat. Fallen leaves of golden yellow, red, and orange adorned the ground and crunched pleasantly under his heavy boots. As always, he smoked a cigar, as if he couldn't breathe without it. The acrid smoke enveloped his face, slid through the tousled hairs of his beard, and rose to the brim of his hat as he walked on. His gaze wandered carefully over the tracks on the ground, until it settled on bright traces of blood near the thick, thorny bushes. Behind the bare branches, the outline of something strange was visible, more like minced meat than a body. Karl stopped by a bush, thoughtfully taking a drag on his cigar, examining the corpse hidden behind the vegetation. A clear sign of lycans or wolves at work, he thought, exhaling smoke into the cold air, which poor soul had they eaten this time? He crouched by the bush, reaching out with his gloved hands and carefully pushing aside the branches.

The torn body in the bushes was horrific, completely disheveled. The poor thing's abdomen had been ripped open with surgical precision, its intestines spilling out, staining the surrounding area with bright, scarlet blood. The entrails were intact, as if the attacker had disdained guts and organs, but the meat from the ribs and the front wall of the abdomen had been eaten almost clean. Now, looking at it more closely, Heisenberg wouldn't have said it looked like the typical work of lycans or wolves - those ate everything indiscriminately, but this one was clearly a gourmet. Or simply a picky puppy, unaware that winter was coming and food would be scarce. Karl stood up with a quiet grunt, plucking the thorns from his gloves and taking another drag on the cigar that had been lazily resting between his lips. Something's wrong here... flashed through his mind, and as if on cue, a squeal and the patter of four pairs of paws sounded behind him. He immediately turned, frowning and trying to locate the source of the sound.

A small wolf cub with a bloody mouth was chasing an unfortunate hare, whose left side appeared to have been bitten. This one wouldn't last long, Heisenberg thought, watching the chase with interest. The puppy was clearly too young and inexperienced - her paws, too long and awkward, were getting in the way, causing her to stumble, though the fire in her eyes was filled with the thrill of the hunt. He continued to watch, deciding how it would all end, whether the wolf cub would catch the hare or not. Finally, the wolf caught the hare - she loomed over her prey, which was weakly struggling. Sharp teeth tore through the hot flesh of the still-living, but already dying hare with a disgusting squelching and cracking sound. The young wolf was oblivious to everything around her, devouring the hare, ignoring the fur, but again, not touching the animal's entrails. Karl grinned, not taking his eyes off the horrific, bloody scene. Anyone in his place would have shuddered, but him? He'd seen horrors worse than a canine's dinner.

Karl moved forward, trying not to step on the crunchy leaves and branches - one step, then another, and he found himself behind the bloodthirsty wolf cub. He reached out and deftly grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. The cub dropped a chunk of warm meat from her mouth, bared her teeth and growled, trying to break free from the man's rough grip, but the hand gripped her fur tightly enough to prevent her from breaking free or biting. "What? Did I interrupt your meal? Sorry, girl, I didn't mean to," Heisenberg apologized mockingly, turning the gourmand around to face him. He whistled softly, examining the wolf in his grip - her eyes too intelligent, her fur free of burrs, as if the bastard had deliberately avoided them. "You're not a wolf, are you? Come on, show me who you really are. I promise I won't laugh…too much," he drawled, grinning from ear to ear.