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"Step back, don't make me repeat it." The persecutor said.

Obediently, Oswald let the commander go.

Thankfully, the commander was out. Else, he would've ordered the prisoner's execution straight away.

Under the persecutor's eyes, now that he had the man's blood on the pillory and on his hands, Oswald couldn't keep his tongue into its box, he had to lick it, instinctively. The mysterious green glow pulled his senses forward. His own thoughts whispered 'taste it' to his mind.

"You're disgusting, man." Said the persecutor while observing him, the man wasn't even slightly agitated.

The warm liquid, its metallic, pungent smell... The two drops he licked off his fingers gave him the kind of headache he had when he recalled his nightmarish night.

Distorted images flashed before his eyes. Nothing he could understand clearly.

'More...?'

So he racked the pillory's surface with his tongue to get as much images as possible. New details unfolded. Months ago. His first nights alone, with a knife he broke long ago on his belt and a haircut that wouldn't reach the top of his neck. He saw how recklessly he killed and beheaded a rabbit.

And each time Meryl welcomed him back from the night hunts with despair on her face.

His two glowing eyes wandered on the tent's roof while the persecutor was a little lost. The masked man took one of his victim's severed arm to touch Oswald's cheek.

"Are you with me dude?"

The third time he pushed the dead finger on the boy's cheek, the latter bit half the hand off.

Hypnotically, Oswald swallowed the whole thing. His teeth were razor sharp and his throat had plenty of space to let the meat fall.

His thought focalised on the sole recovery of his memory, the discover of the truth. He heard Stan's monologue while Meryl was about to give birth, he felt his body mutating into one of a monster after seeing the full moon. He saw the unforgivable act, the death of the newborn, and the worse one.

The decapitation of his own mother, with a single bite.

Again, he mind-fainted. Nothing outside of his mind moved, his free arm touched the ground and the remaining one was still attached to the pillory, weighing on one side and tilting Oswald's neck in a twisted position.

The persecutor, still watching, had yet to call for the guards. Instead, he used the hand with two remaining fingers to tap on the boy's head.

"You done?" He asked. But Oswald was petrified, the monster he feared turned out to be a terrible version of himself.

"..." Oswald muttered.

"What?"

"It's all Stan's fault." He said, rows of pointy teeth ornating his mouth.

"Not entirely, don't be so cruel." The persecutor smirked. Under his mask, two red beams shone brightly.

The devil was here from the beginning. His body odour was non-existent, the many layers of blood that gushed out of the victims in the tent allowed him to hide from the only smell-sensitive person. Hiding in plain sight, he couldn't contain his laugh.

"You're... Stan? You're the army's... killer?" Oswald said as he tried to connect each dot to the other.

"What! No! He is the executioner actually." Stan said, waving the dead hand left and right. "No one knew his identity, how unfortunate he was to not be believed when he said the truth. Reminds me of someone." He said while his mask fell apart in a mist of dust.

Now stood in front of Oswald the man he encountered in a snowstorm. Blond hair, long goatee, two black crosses upside down on his forehead to hide the horns, and a wolfish smile. A hand on his torso, he kept talking.

"Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Satan, all mighty being, and bored. And you, are the consequences of your mother's egoism." The red-eyed man meticulously recapitulated how Meryl ended up alive, and how dumb Oswald was to not use violence each time he could.

He looked more than disappointed, kind of frustrated.

When Oswald tried to get up, the man put his index on the wooden frame, it was like an impossible strength pushing against all of his efforts.

"Now now, what will you do if you get free? There's literally an army out here. No, no, no! Mighty-me is about to grant you another wish!"

"I want everything to go back to normal." Oswald whispered, unable to think properly, the images of his mother's death kept on replaying in front of his eyes, he wanted to erase them.

Yet another wolfish smile appeared on Satan's face. "Oh, silly! You already wished for something a few minutes ago. First, he wakes up. Then, you." He said, lifting up the commander with one hand.

He gently blown on his face, making the man's wound vanish slowly, but noticeably. He whispered to the unconscious man's ear. "He sleeps outside tonight, tie him tight."

After letting go of the now standing, but dizzy commander, he approached Oswald, still kneeling. "You're the first one I created that is so fascinated by the moon. Thankfully I came back in time, you were so incomplete back then that I thought you were about to melt... I'm not asking you to stay calm, I'm making you, that's how it's done."

He blew on Oswald's face, making the boy fall asleep instantly.

The commander was alone in the room, someone else's arm in his hand, he jolted awake when he noticed it was a corpse's limb.

Oswald's face and free wrist were covered in blood, not his. The persecutor disguised the boy as a wounded person, to justify the blood on the pillory. He then took the gun and vanished.

Because the commander couldn't recall what had happened, he supposed his victory had been too easy and, after a long reflection, called the guard to have the spy attached outside, naked.

Only a few hours later did Oswald wake up.

On a pillar of shame, sole stone standing amidst ruins, he was attached. Steel cuffs, large chains, with a small margin, few centimeters long to move his limbs around. The camp had been constructed all around the spot, because the ruins were a popular stop for travellers.

'No!' He thought, his breathe accelerating when he understood it was nighttime.

'Don't look at it. Don't you dare! Oswald Bendis, I forbid you to-!' He wanted to convince himself to do the impossible, he knew what would happen if he saw the full moon.

All above him, a cosmic eye candy. Billions of stars shone to their brightest, as much colors on the landscape that eroded his mind at a dangerous pace.

In front of him, the glorious, marvellous moon.

Oswald's body started to transform.