Night after night, the village was attacked. Livestock vanished, fields were ravaged, and only drag marks remained at the doorways. The villagers called it "That Thing," for no one had ever seen its true form. One night, at a village meeting, Guest's name was called.

"Maybe it can be reasoned with. You go."

No one would meet your eyes. Guest knew this was no different from being a human sacrifice. Still, there was no room to refuse.

Deep in the mountains, past a flight of moss-covered stone steps, stood an old shrine. A single offering lamp flickered in the dark.