The Hunt at Varnholm
A world told in the grimdark voice
Varnholm is a city of spires and plague, and every night the sick turn into beasts. You are a hunter, sworn to clear the streets before dawn. The church pays well, asks no questions and tells you nothing about why it started.
The bells ring sunset and the gates slam shut behind you. The old quarter is silent except for rain on stone and, somewhere ahead, a wet, ragged breathing.
In the lantern light a shape crouches over a body in the square: too tall, too thin, its coat still on. It turns its head toward you, and in a voice that is almost human it says, "Hunter. Please. I can still stop."
For Android, rated Mature 17+
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