In the snow-covered forest, Raito tried to follow the tracks left by the creature, slowly, he began to understand the characteristics displayed by the beast. Its white fur allowed it to become a ghost within the snow-draped timber, and its footprints, nearly non-existent upon the powder, made it agonizingly difficult to track. Yet, the monster left a trail of subtle transgressions. Tufts of coarse fur snagged on jagged bark, deep gouges carved into pines, and a foul, viscous saliva that hung from the branches, reeking of a pungent decay unlike anything of this world.
As Raito scoured the surroundings with frantic precision, he discovered a cavern mouth, half hidden behind the remains of a fallen tree. Curiosity flared in his chest, warring with a cold, hollow sense of dread. He considered retreating, but at that moment, a thunderous roar erupted, vibrating through the very marrow of his bones and echoing off the mountain peaks. Panicked, he scrambled into the dark maw of the cave, praying the shadows would act as a shroud against the nightmare outside.
Huddled in the darkness, Raito fought to quell his hyperventilating lungs. The air inside the cave was thick and humid, carrying the iron-rich stench of old blood and the sour musk of a predator's den. He realized he wasn't facing a mere animal. A single name clawed its way to the surface of his mind, Yeti. The towering frame, the primordial malice, and the desolate habitat all mirrored the terrifying descriptions he had seen in the internet.
There was no other logical explanation, especially as he looked down to see an infant version of the same demonic entity curled in a fitful sleep. Raito realized with a jolt of horror that he was crouching in a Yeti's nursery. Suddenly, the cave seemed to tighten around him. A dark, intrusive impulse took root in his mind, whispering a singular, violent command, "Kill it". He tried to push back, but the silence of the cave felt heavy, almost sentient, pushing the madness into his skull. As his eyes locked onto a hand size rock around, his self control disintegrated. Under some unseen, malevolent influence, a frantic urge to slaughter the creature consumed him. Driven by a desire he could no longer govern, he hoisted the rock.
The first blow did not bring death. Instead, the infant let out a high pitched, agonizing wail, too shrill, that set Raito's teeth ache as the small, matted body thrashed in the dirt. The second strike silenced the cries to a wet, bubbling whimper as dark crimson began to pool from its shattered skull, steaming in the freezing air. By the third blow, the cave fell into a deafening, accusatory silence. The infant lay still, its life force spilling onto the cold stone in a thick, dark tide.
As the red mist cleared, the weight of his sin crushed him. Raito realized the gravity of the atrocity he had committed, but the deed was irrevocable. He scrambled out of the cave, fleeing into the trees, his hands trembling as he realized he couldn't scrub the warmth of the blood from his palms. But then he ignore it.
He hadn't gone far when a scream tore through the canopy, grief-stricken howl that eclipsed the previous roar. It wasn't just a sound, it was a physical force that rattled the trees. Raito pushed his legs until they burned, but the ground began to vibrate beneath his boots with rhythmic thuds. Each step of the beast felt like a hammer hitting the earth. The screams grew closer, more rhythmic, and a suffocating shroud of terror wrapped around his heart. He could hear the snapping of entire trees behind him, the sound of the forest being leveled by a force of pure, unadulterated rage.
As the thundering footsteps gained on him, Raito's strength began to vanish. Every time he looked back, the shadows of the trees seemed to twist into the shape of the beast. With only a few minutes of adrenaline left, he decided to lure the monster toward a treeless clearing, hoping against hope that help might be waiting in the open. He leaned into his stride, his speed increasing drastically as he dodged between the tight-knit pines, his skis cutting through the powder like a blade, the hot breath of his pursuer seemingly brushing the back of his neck.
Finally, the forest broke. A vast, open snowfield stretched out before him. A desperate, grimace-like smirk touched Raito's face as he burst through the treeline, but reality struck like a physical blow. The clearing was a graveyard of silence. There was no rescue, no team, only the falling snow and the whistling wind dancing across a barren expanse of white and jagged rock.
A roar exploded directly behind him, so loud it felt like his eardrums would burst. He spun his head back in a panic as the Yeti emerged from the forest, its face a distorted mask of agonizing grief and murderous rage. Its eyes were bloodshot, fixated on the gore staining Raito's clothes. Raito wondered how it had tracked him so unerringly until he looked down at his own sleeves. His forearms and wrists were drenched in the infant's blood before, the steam rising from the sticky liquid in the cold air. The beast hadn't been following his trail, it had been hunting the scent of its dead kin.
Exhaustion finally claimed him. Raito's legs turned to lead, and he collapsed into the drifts, his heart hammering a frantic, dying rhythm against his ribs. He lay there, staring at the blue sky, questioning the senseless, cruel impulse that had led him to this death sentence. With heavy eyelids, he watched the snowflakes drift down, trying to make his final moments as beautiful as possible.
Just as his eyes began to close, the silhouette of a woman appeared, walking calmly toward him. Raito tried to scream, to warn her of the demon towering at his back, but his throat was a desert and his voice was dead. The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was a lone woman walking straight into the jaws of a monster, and he was powerless to save her.