The door shuddered. Not from an impact, but from pressure.
Whatever was on the other side was pressing against it, testing it.
Cale stood alone in the dark, cane planted firmly on the floor. He had already extinguished the light Aris had turned on.
The beast on the other side of the door would need the light more than him.
Besides, he had spent most of his life in darkness. It had allowed Cale to hone in on his other senses and expand them beyond a normal human's.
It had also allowed him to do much more.
He had designed his home for moments exactly like this. A beast, angry and enraged, was right outside of his door.
Cale tapped his cane once on the floor and stepped forward. Bending down, he found the wire he had attached to the lock on the front door.
He gave it a sharp yank and the door unlocked and swung open.
The beast stepped inside without hesitation. "Where are they, old man?" He asked, his voice deep and gravelly. "I know they came in here. Show me, and I may let you live."
"You are a very good hunter," Cale replied, tapping his cane on the ground. The air shifted as the beast stepped forward.
"I'm the Hound. I was created to hunt," the voice said, moving further into the room. "Now tell me where they are."
Perfect.
Cale let go of the wire, and his front door slammed shut behind the Hound.
The Hound snarled. "It may be dark, but I can still see you."
Interesting. Thorne must have enhanced the creature's vision. If that was true, it likely also had enhanced hearing and smell.
That would make this a lot more difficult.
Cale was sure the beast could see him. But not in full detail. He imagined it could only see his silhouette.
He would use that to his advantage.
The Hound lunged forward, claws swiping toward Cale. It moved fast. Much faster than a normal man.
Cale could feel its speed in the shift in the air. He could tell exactly how close it was.
At the very last moment, he ducked to the side, feeling the Hound swiping thin air behind him.
His movements may have been rapid, but they were not controlled. The Hound slammed into the back wall, cracking the stone.
Cale turned and tapped his cane on the ground once more.
His opponent stepped forward, snarling.
One more step, Cale thought eagerly.
The floorboard cracked beneath the Hound's weight, and his leg fell into a spiked trap, which closed down around his calf.
Perfectly timed. Perfectly executed. That floorboard had been thinner than the others and designed to break under a small weight.
The Hound roared in pain. Cale listened with pleasure at the sound of dripping blood.
Although he wasn't a fighter, Cale liked to think of himself as highly intelligent. After all, he spent most of his time in silence, listening only to his thoughts. Being blind meant few distractions.
And with intelligence came skill. His bones were old and weary, but he was more than capable of holding off a mindless beast such as this one. It wasn't his first time.
The Hound thrashed, claws scraping against stone as it tried to wrench its leg free. Metal teeth bit deeper with every movement. The trap was not designed to kill but punish impatience.
Cale did not rush.
He adjusted his grip on the cane, listening.
The creature's breathing had changed. No longer blind fury. Now it was measured. Controlled. Pain was being filed away, catalogued, turned into data.
Good.
That meant it was learning.
"You planned this," the Hound growled, voice tight. "You knew something like me would come."
Cale stepped closer, just close enough that the Hound could sense him. The shift in air. The pressure of presence.
"I always plan ahead. Even for something like you," he said. "Return to your master. Tell him that you have failed."
"Over my dead body," the Hound snarled.
"As you wish."
The Hound stepped forward, metal tearing at his flesh. He snarled in pain and ripped the trap off of his leg. Blood splattered the ground.
The air shifted.
In a split second, Cale could tell the Hound was throwing the trap at him.
It was headed directly for his head.
Cale angled his head to the side and heard the trap whistle past his ear, smashing into the wall behind him.
"That was a close one," he said, tapping his cane.
"Stop that!" the Hound roared, charging.
Cale listened while the footsteps approached.
His cane came up, striking the inside of the Hound's wrist. It wasn't hard, but it was precise.
The creature roared as his fingers went numb, the impact landing perfectly on the median nerve.
"You rely too much on sight," Cale continued. "And when that fails you, you rely on strength. Predictable."
The Hound charged again, faster this time, swinging wide, claws scraping across stone.
Cale ducked low, feeling the heat of the Hound's body pass over him.
He stepped behind the clumsy beast and swept his cane across the back of its knee.
The Hound stumbled and roared with annoyance.
That gave Cale enough time to step in and drive the metal tipped end of his cane into the Hound's ribs. He felt the bone crack beneath the pressure.
The Hound howled, spinning blindly, smashing furniture, tearing through the room in a frenzy of destruction.
Cale retreated one measured step at a time.
Every reckless attack cost the creature something. A torn muscle. A sprained ankle. One particularly ruthless jab knocked out two of the beast's front teeth.
Blood slicked the floor now. The scent was thick with iron.
The Hound's breathing grew heavier. Faster. Less controlled.
"You feel it, don't you?" Cale said softly. "Your strength is leaking away."
A snarl. A final, desperate charge.
Cale didn't dodge this one.
He stepped into it.
At the last possible instant, he dropped flat, feeling claws raking the air above him, and drove the cane upward into the Hound's throat.
Deep enough to hurt. Deep enough to teach.
The Hound staggered back, choking, clutching its neck. Cale had partially blocked his airway.
For a moment there was only silence.
Then retreating footsteps.
Fast. Uneven. Furious.
Cale remained still, listening.
Only then did he exhale.
"Run," he murmured to the darkness. "And tell Thorne what you experienced."
The hunt was over.
At least for tonight.