Union of Cursed Blood

He scurried along the dirt, carefully weaving inbetween the enormous oak trees of the forest that he was in. He had been asleep when the traveler entered, but he smelled his blood from miles away. An AB blood type was unique among people, the most unique blood type of them all. Such a treat would not escape his grasp; he wouldn’t let it escape for he had never tasted such blood before. It HAD to be delicious. Only a few more feet, he thought to himself as he increased his speed. He was running on all fours, his nose extended slightly. He took the shape of a wolf, a humanoid wolf, more than an actual person. It was his hunting transformation, his one of a thousand forms.

He crawled up a tree, scaling the large oak with his powerful, ragged claws that clamped the bark with every moment. Jumping from each tree to another tree, he soared through the leaves, the scent of the traveler getting closer and closer until it simply disappeared. “Huh? No,” the hunter cried, increasing his speed as flashbacks ran through his mind.

''Starving they were, they sent one member to attack him and kill him…his own brother would be forced to murder him. His brother entered his room, or rather the small part of the cave that he was given. It was dark, absolutely. He couldn’t see, so he recognized him through his scent. “Brother, you’re back!” the young hunter cheered, only to find himself pounced on seconds later. He fought his brother, cried out to his brother to stop, only to no avail. In a final act of defense, he pierced his own brother’s heart, taking it with his own hand. The older boy’s body fell before his eyes, and seconds later it was being devoured by his own mother and father, his aunt and uncle who were tearing it apart like the meat that they were sometimes rewarded with. Holding his heart, he felt no remorse, but only craved the blood that was pumping through it. Like his family, he ate, devouring his brother’s heart, spilling his blood on his face, ignoring his own wounds.''

Arriving at the scene where he last sensed the man, the hunter spotted one guy on the ground and another towering over him. A boy, perhaps around twelve years old with crimson-red eyes stood before the man, smiling as the guy crawled. “Another prey?,” the hunter inquired, whispering to himself, before feeling an ominous feeling. Suddenly, he found himself standing before the man, towering under his body just as this man lay before him. His blood was spilled onto the ground in the same manner, lifeless as the teenager simply laughed uncontrollable, his crimson eyes seemingly reflecting the color of his blood. Pulled back into reality, he fell from the tree, incapable of moving from fear alone. He hit the ground, landing a few feet from the crimson-eyed child, reverting back to his normal-human form as he tried to stand, but found his body irresponsive. “M-My meal!,” the hunter cried, looking at the guy. “You’re stealing my meal!” The hunter was simply a regular child with lavender hair, soft features, the complete opposite of his brute-like nature. On his right eye, he wore an eye patch, a single eye patch.