Devourer of Men: Abellona Sibel
Category: Uncategorized

The Past

The sounds of water dripping from the cave's entrance echoed in the looming darkness, adding to the eerie silence that crept through the damp space. It was secluded deep within the forest, hidden behind thick brush that scattered across the land, adorning the tall pine trees that towered above.

Three bodies lay within the cave—two silent, with the stench of death beginning to seep into the air. The third whimpered and shivered, blank eyes staring at the lifeless figures before her. A small child, no older than ten, wrapped her arms around her legs, rocking back and forth. Her blonde hair was wet and matted to her skin, hanging over her face, as if trying to shield her from the sight before her.

Her mother and twin brother lay dead, their bodies shriveled—skin hollow and tight against their bones, as if everything inside them had been drained, leaving only sickly gray skin sagging over sharp angles. The girl let out a soft whimper as tears stung her eyes, threatening to fall once again. She wasn’t sure what had gone wrong or what she had done to them.

She remembered the feel of dirt beneath her bare feet, the blades of grass cutting against her skin as she ran. She had run with her mother and brother, fleeing through the forest from her father, who had gathered a band of hunters to track them down after learning of her mother’s betrayal—one that shattered their family. Her mother had had an affair, and the result of that sin was Abellona and her twin, Lyall.

Her mother had fallen in love with a man who appeared one day at the local tavern—tall, muscular, with a rugged handsomeness that drew her in. Their love had been a secret, sacred and forbidden. She couldn't tell a soul. She knew that if her husband ever found out, he would do something unthinkable.

After a night of lust, her mother had lain in the forest, unaware of the consequences her actions would bring. Unbeknownst to her, the man she had fallen for was no ordinary man—he was a monster, a beast of myth and fable. A werewolf. And she had become pregnant with his twins. When he learned of the pregnancy, she threatened him. If he loved her, he would leave and never return. And so, he vanished.

Her mother concealed the truth, passing the pregnancy off as her husband's. Despite his cruelty, he still lay with her often—it was expected. No suspicion arose as her belly swelled, and her husband, unaware, was overjoyed. Everything seemed normal. He adored her like a queen.

Then came the full moon—the night of their birth. Abellona and Lyall entered the world under that haunting glow. Twins in every way—sunlit blonde hair, glowing blue eyes—they were perfect. Their parents, or so it seemed, couldn't have been happier. Until that fated night.

The moon gleamed brighter than ever before, tugging at an invisible thread that connected it to the twins. It began with Lyall. His screams pierced the air as his bones cracked and contorted, fur sprouting from his skin, hands and feet shifting into paws—his small body transforming into a black wolf. Fear glimmered in his eyes, matching the horror in Abellona’s.

Her own screams echoed through the halls. She fled from her brother, out into the corridor, even as her own body began to change. The searing pain tore through her bones. Through the blur of tears, she saw her father's face—contorted with disgust and terror—as he watched his daughter turn into a beast of the moon. She couldn’t speak. Only a soft whine escaped her lips as she looked from him to her mother. Her mother gasped, flinched. Fear filled her eyes.

Her father shouted words she didn’t understand—monsters, abominations, they had to die. Their family was cursed. Her mother cried out, trying to defend them, but the shouting only grew louder. Then, the cock of a gun echoed through the house. A crash. A scream. Her mother burst into the room, gathered the twins, and commanded them to run.

Abellona didn’t understand what was happening—but she was terrified. She felt her brother’s fear too. With a yelp, she bolted out of the house and into the forest. Her twin and mother followed close behind, though her mother couldn’t keep pace. Her human legs were no match for the children's unnatural speed, and soon exhaustion overtook her. They found shelter in the cave.

There, her mother watched in horror as Abellona and Lyall’s bodies shifted back into small human children. Lyall wept. Abellona simply stared. “What’s happening to us?” she whispered, trembling. Her mother shook her head wildly, unable to answer. “What happened?! WHAT HAPPENED?!” Abellona shrieked. She lunged at her mother, fists pounding against her in rage and confusion. Lyall tried to pull her away, but Abellona was lost in her fury—unaware that something darker had awakened within her.

As her anger boiled, she began to drain the life from her mother and brother, drawing their essence into herself. Devouring their souls without knowing. By the time she stopped, her family was gone. Their eyes were dull, their bodies lifeless. She screamed, kicking herself away from their corpses and collapsing at the far end of the cave.

“What’s happening? What’s… h-happening?!” she cried. She screamed at her mother. At her twin. At her false father. She screamed at the moon—and at herself.

She was a monster.

She sat in the cave for what felt like hours, staring at the death she had caused. Then, she heard it—the shouts and stomping feet of her false father and his hunting horde. She knew she couldn’t stay. If they caught her, her fate would be far worse than death.

With one last glance, she whimpered her sorrow to her family before dashing out of the cave and into a sprint. She didn’t know where she was going. She only let her feet carry her forward, as the furious roar of her false father echoed behind her.

He had found what she left behind.

The Present

The memories of that night drifted into Abellona’s mind—memories that made her shiver in her skin. That was the past. Long, long ago. None of it mattered now. Not when hallucinations of her dead family haunted her day in and day out.

“Drowning in your sorrows, dear sister?” A thick, masculine voice echoed in her mind. Her eyes shot to where the figure of her twin leaned against the wall, studying her with narrowed eyes.

She knew he wasn’t real. He was dead—she had sucked the life right out of him and their mother, and left them to rot in that cave. But that didn’t stop her mind from punishing her, summoning her dead twin to haunt her.

“You’re not real. Shut up,” she snarled, hurling a glass bottle at him. It passed right through his form and shattered against the wall.

“Yikes… Mikel’s going to be mad about that,” her twin tsked, shaking a finger at her, a smirk playing on his lips—just as the door to her small room burst open and a menacing figure loomed in the doorway. Mikel stood six foot five, with dark hair and an otherworldly beauty that could make any woman weak in the knees. His dark eyes narrowed—first at her, then at the broken glass on the floor.

“That’s coming out of your check,” his voice deepened as he stepped into the room and sat next to her. The springs of her mattress squeaked under his weight. “You seeing them again?” he asked, his voice low, laced with a hint of concern.

“Only Lyall.”

She sighed and threw her head back against the wall, staring up at the plaster ceiling, its paint peeling like old skin. Mikel had known about her hallucinations since the day he hired her at his nightclub. She had been brought on as a dancer—posted on a podium with a pole, either alone or with another girl, swaying for the rich men that filtered in. They lured secrets with seductive dances and left men with nothing but aching lust and empty wallets. The men liked her well enough. She was petite, with curves that made them drool. Tattoos adorned her skin.

On her first night, she’d hallucinated her brother and ended up shoving a broken bottle into a client’s throat, thinking it was Lyall. Mikel had only kept her around out of pity—and maybe out of hope that someday she’d fall in love with him. That would never happen. But this place had become her home, and she had no plans of leaving.

Most of the town was human, though Occults were welcome—as long as they kept out of trouble. It was a miracle she hadn’t been run out already for the chaos she caused, but Mikel kept it quiet.

She’d come to the town after devouring a handful of souls—by accident—during a drunken binge. She’d tried to hump a few rich husbands, which led to pissed-off wives, cops being called, and a bloodbath she didn’t quite remember. She’d run, again, and found this place.

Rumors had reached her ears—rumors of a man like her who had once lived here and still visited now and then. It made her chest ache. She’d always known her supposed father wasn’t her real one. Somewhere out there, her true father still existed. She just had to find him. She needed to know the truth of what she was—beyond being a wolf.

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