Chapter 130 Born From Fear And Deviance
The deer-wolf-owl creature stood at 4 feet tall when on all fours, not adding the wings when spread out. Its length from the tip of the nose to the tail was 8 feet. An ordinary wolf was only 6 feet in length, and a deer on average was 6-7. However…..
The wings were definitely much larger than even the biggest non-mythical owl that exists in this world. The wings were 30 feet long each in order for it to be able to lift the body. That alone was big enough to cover the wendigo itself.
Despite this, scientifically, such creatures would still face difficulties in flight. There is a reason why birds and bats have no arms, and their legs were much shorter. Legs were long for running, while flying creatures only use theirs for perching over branches and rocks.
But the deer-wolf-owl was still able to flap its large and heavy wings, lifting off the ground. It was quick, and set its paws over to claw at the wendigo.
There's no shortage of animal hybrids in myths, though this specific combination was never recorded before. This creature may be likened to the Hundun of Chinese mythology, the representation of primordial chaos itself, which had the body of a pig, the legs of a lion or bear, and four wings of a bird.
There were even creatures that were a mixture of more than four kinds of animals, like the Navagunjara in Hindu myth that was made of 8 animals plus a human hand. The head of a rooster, feet of an elephant, tiger, deer/horse; fourth limb being the hand that holds a lotus; the neck of a peacock; the back of a bull; the waist of a lion; and the tail of a serpent.
These creatures would either represent gods or creation myths as well. Hundun being compared to the world egg, and Navagunjara being one of Vishnu's forms.
If someone did watch this creature appear from nowhere and attack them, they truly would be stricken with fear. Even a wendigo that had lost much of its humanity shrieked from spotting such a thing.
Harker still has his mind despite turning into this hybrid, which he was grateful for. He can still strategically make attacks instead of going for impulse.
The downside was that he doesn't have much time. Eating a lot of normal animals still meant a short duration.
He wondered what exactly would help increase the stats of his Shapeshifting ability itself, especially the Duration, Absorption and Effectiveness stats. But that's a question he must save for later, as he tried to take a bite off the wendigo's arm with his wolf face and teeth.
The wendigo was not clever in its fighting style, but it had plain ruthlessness on its side. It grabbed onto Harker's wings to claw them with its own long and sharp fingernails.
Harker knocked it off with his own weight, and slammed it over the cave's walls. It went to slash at the wendigo's shrunken stomach.
No matter what it eats, its belly was never full and bone thin. Barely anything spilled out when he slashed like that. Harker quickly licked the grayish blood that flowed from within this beast's cold body.
It was much dirtier than Joan's, and had the viscosity of a tree sap. It tasted terrible too, and as soon as Harker lapped it up with his tongue, he felt like he just had a brain freeze.
It was bitter and cold, just like the snowstorm that this creature brings.
The notification appeared by his side confirming that he did get the wendigo's DNA. However, Harker did not look at it first as he needed to finish this one off. He needs to eat it before it tries to get away or call the others with its banshee-like shrieks.
Joan had already hidden behind the stalagmites, watching the fight with immense dread. She had never seen Harker transform into anything before, and just seeing him turn into this creature brought her in awe.
But the sheer power that he holds was something else entirely, leaving her reeling on what to feel about it.
Harker went for the wendigo's legs, as it would not be able to go away if it couldn't run with its fast speed. He managed to chew one of its feet off, but eating and fighting at the same time was harder than its sounds.
The wendigo would not die even if you attack its 'fatal' parts. He had tested this theory by smashing a large gaping hole on its head where the brain should be.
And yet it still went on, the curse of its own greed never letting it come to pass into the afterlife.
The only way to get rid of it just like the zombies was fire, and fire would burn its flesh which Harker needed. He was set on eating the whole thing no matter what.
The wendigo still put up a fight by grabbing a boulder and smashing it on Harker's wolf head. But Harker had already tasted the blood of this cursed cannibal….
And so nothing can stop him anymore when it comes to consumption. He will feed.
He will feed and feed no matter what.
The wendigo was digging its fingers and ripping Harker's thick buck hide. Soon the muscles on his shoulder became visible, and patches of him kept on being torn off. Blood dripped everywhere on the cave's floor.
Harker can feel the pain. It was truly extreme, and anyone would have passed out by now.
But the pain was being overpowered by something else. A stronger, insatiable emotion. It was more than hunger. Hunger can be satisfied. This one could not.
It was pure greed for the pleasures of consuming flesh.
He had dug his teeth again and again to crush the bones of this creature that was once a man. Large chunks for every bite. Even when the shattered bones pricked his throat, even if the wendigo tears off all his skin and even leaves nothing but his crimson flesh underneath….
He must keep eating the meat. He must dominate over this powerful being, must consume it until there's nothing left.
Once he was done and there was nothing left to eat….
He was still hungry, and almost ate his own hands. Only an unknown voice snapped him out of it. That voice that speaks in a language that he doesn't know, yet also knows…..
The shadow of a round creature with wings appeared before him for a moment as he slowly regained control over his psyche.
Harker turned back to his former self, but he wasn't quite human anymore even when he looked like one. It was different from simply becoming a demon lord that has all these powers and abilities.
It wasn't just strangeness that defines a monster, the deviances it has from what was 'normal'. Often, we define monsters by our fears, by their unstoppable desire to bring harm to us.
And that was exactly what he became that night.