hex_m_hell

The Fear does not stalk its prey with cunning and stealth, as the great cat. Nor does it hunt in packs like dogs. Not does it spy its prey from a distance and loose arrows on surprise like man, though it is summoned by one who was once a man.

It does not rely on speed, nor silence, nor endurance, nor planning, for it is something else entirely.

The Fear comes with a bellowing roar and a fearsome visage it seeks not to hide, but calls attention to more and more as it moves closer. For it does not come for flesh, but catches the eyes of its victim and feasts on the terror.

When eyes are locked, in a fatal trap, mesmerized in pools of fire, it creeps ever so slightly closer. It grows louder and louder with each slow step. Often a victim could turn and run, could escape, if they could only break the gaze. For so long as any look into the eyes of this terrible creature, no movement is possible.

The Fear does not only hunt the solitary, but may be set on a village or town. Consuming its victims one by one, draining them to collapse, its power over successive victims grows stronger as they watch its slow horror.

Many will fall to their knees at the din and the fury hoping to beg themselves free, finding themselves saved for later as they feed the great monster their neighbors.

But those who know the Fear, who understand it, can escape those eyes of growing fire and raise a spear, or fork, or quiver of three arrows, and march towards it. Those who do may break its spell, that others may too rise and give chase.

And when those spears and forks find their mark, and when those arrows land, the wise who stood together find the cursed creature, manifestation of terror, was, all along, only a phantasm of light and shadow.