The silver blur barreled  through the withering black trees like a furious specter. Sharp claws scraped the ground, conjuring up a swirling cloud of dirt and dust. Alala let out an ear piercing howl that rattled the trees to their roots. She continued to follow the scent tied to her nose, letting it guide her. The closer she got, the more hungry she became for her delicious revenge. To the world, she looked like a deranged wolf, but inside that wolf was a broken girl drowning in a sea of grief. Suddenly racked with the desire for increased speed, Alala concentrated on the transformation of her body. Her long silver fur began to shrink and develop dark spots. Her snarling snout reduced in length. Her body grew leaner, legs longer, and a long spotted tail trailed behind her. The shift included some pain but it was something she was accustomed to since birth. Her body surrendered to the form of a cheetah, now doubling her speed as she continued her relentless hunt. Only one name occupied her mind.

Dorian the Hunter.

The more the name replayed in her mind, the greater her fury burned. Alala had been tracking Dorian for over three years across four different worlds, always coming close and always missing him by a hair. It all started back on Cambios, the world of the Shifters. Back in her home world, Alala was raised up in a tribe of shapeshifting warriors. Her father Toris was the leader of the tribe, the most courageous of them all. And it was three years ago that his leadership was tested when a sinister threat invaded their world: the Hunters. A violent race of mortals who loath Shifters and seek to kill each and every one. Their motives were unknown to her, but they immediately started a bloody massacre which lead to a full fledged war. Their most advanced fighter, Dorian, was young and hotheaded. To him, killing shifters was personal. Hundreds died by his hand, including Alala’s father. He had some secret weapon that gave him leverage. Some secret strength that gave him power over a shapeshifter’s abilities.

Alala ran faster, her throat threatening to choke up. Toris’s last fight was epic, brutal and lasted days. She remember the moment when she had heard her father’s roar from a distance. The sound of him dying shattered her heart into a million pieces. Ever since then, Alala had vowed to avenge her father’s death and the deaths of all her brethren.

That’s when she became the hunter.

When Alala had first confronted Dorian he had stared at her like she was a ghost. The stating of her name made his face discolour. He was at first reluctant to fight her but was quick to defend himself against Alala’s attack. And then their chase began.

Her last encounter with Dorian was on Uria, the world of bliss. In the fight, she had bit off his left hand, swallowing it whole. Hearing him scream, tasting his blood and flesh gave her immeasurable pleasure. He escaped to Korin, the world of death. Somewhere on this world of corpses and bones was her foe, anticipating her arrival. Alala traveled through the dead forest for a couple more hours, her anger driving her on. Soon her body began to grow tired, her muscles were burning and her heart was racing faster than her cheetah paws. The dark gray moon was now hanging from the starless sky. She found a small clearing and collapsed onto the ground. Her body morphed into the human shape of a girl. She lay on the ground of crumpled leaves and twigs, her long brown hair fanned over her body like a cloak.

She pulled herself into a sitting position next to the corpse of a tree. Her bright yellow eyes contrasted with the blackness of the night. She picked up a stone and held it tight in her hands. She imagined a figure in her mind and felt the stone start to shudder. It fell to the ground, a stone figure of a male lion. The lion was one of her father’s favorite forms. Her secret ability to transform objects around her was rare and unheard of back home. Somehow, she had been blessed with a unique gift of being able to shift matter other than her body. It was something her father praised and kept secret from everyone.

She stretched out her body and lay next to the stone lion. Memories of her father overwhelmed her mind. She wished she could relive every moment with him. Every moment in every form. Staring at the lion, her eyelids grew heavy. Her body wasted no time in sucking her into a state of sleep, forcing her to finally rest.

The next morning, Alala soared through the dark sky as a hawk. She was so close to Dorian, she could almost feel his presence. She spotted a dwindling column of smoke deep in Skeleton Valley.

There.

The sudden burst of fury and rage that struck Alala’s heart was so powerful, she could hardly control herself from morphing into the hideous and fearsome body of a fire-breathing dragon. Smoke and flames shot from her nostrils as she roared out Dorian’s name. She folded her wings and plummeted from the sky in a mad rush. She crashed into the fire, her body driving a deep trench into the ground. She swiveled her head back and forth but the clearing was empty.

“Looking for someone?”

Alala saw a shadow above her but it was too late. A large net was thrown on top of her, sending her screaming in agony. The Net of Sumadora! The magical and rare net drained her of her power and suspended her shapeshifting  abilities. Her dragon body withered and morphed painfully back into her human one. The heavy net burned her skin and sent electric shocks throughout her body. She bit back her cries and watched through blurry tears as Dorian approached her slowly, his sword dragging at his side. He was clad in all black, around his neck a chain of teeth of the many shifters he slaughtered. His youthful face was subdued by his bald and scarred scalp. His red eyes glared at her.

“You won’t get away with your murders Dorian,” Alala hissed.

“And neither will you shifters,” he purred.

“We are not the murderers!” Alala shouted. She tried to fight but the net had her bound.

Dorian stared at her face, almost frozen. “You look just like her,” he whispered.

“Like who?” Alala growled, feeling weaker than ever.

“Like Alali.” His face darkened.

“Ala-who?”

“Alali! My sister! The one slaughtered by you cursed demons! She didn’t deserve it! None of us did!”

Alala was suddenly hit with foggy memories of hearing about confidential missions to some distant world. Eliminating some force. The long periods of time her father was absent...

“You monsters came to our world first!” Alala screamed, barely believing her words.

Dorian gaped at her. “That’s not how I remember it.”

Alala felt her mind start to swirl. “It...it doesn’t matter. You still killed my father!” The fire was back in her heart and she thrashed about. She reached her hand through one of the holes and her fingers touched a small stone.

“You give me no choice, Alala,” Dorian declared. “I’m sorry.”
She heard the sound of Dorian’s sword cutting through the air. She saw it suspended above her body. Alala gripped the stone and ignored the pain, the barrier, the magic. She mustered every ounce of strength in her being and channeled it into the rock. Her yellow eyes flared and her body glowed. Just as the sword came swooping down, the stone in Alala’s hand erupted into the sky as tall stone tree, lifting the net high above her. The sword was thrown back and Alala leaped out the way. Finally free, she tried to morph into a dragon, but so great a creature required energy she no longer had. Dorian was getting to his feet. She used the power she had left to shift into a lion and raced towards him. He rolled out of her path and Alala skidded to a halt. Dorian grabbed his sword as she charged him. The sword cut through her as she slammed into his chest. In seconds she was a wolverine, tearing his face and chest with her claws. His sword struck her again. She became a poisonous snake, slithering over his body. She sank her fangs into his neck and their eyes met. His mouth gaped open and his skin started to turn green.  Alala slithered off his body and morphed back into her original self. Blood poured from her belly and her back as she shakily stood over him. She heard him start to say a word “Ala-” then watched his body convulse and cease moving. His glossy red eyes gazed blankly back at her.

She picked up his sword and held it in her hands. Tears were swelling in her eyes. She didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right. She gripped the hilt and transformed the metal. It morphed into the shape of her father. She held it for a second then stuck it straight through Dorian’s corpse. His eyes continued to stare at her.

“May your spirit may rest in peace now, Father,” Alala whispered, her voice cracking. “I pray the blood spilled from my revenge was justified.”  She limped a few steps, then collapsed onto the ground. She slowly transformed into a silver wolf, blood staining the glistening fur. She released one long mournful howl that seemed to last forever. Even after the howl was cut off, it’s echo continued through the world of death and beyond.