Episode 9
During the daytime, Molsak and Wasuri stayed hidden in their lair.
Wasuri's wound had mostly healed.
They were resting when suddenly, they heard noises from outside.
Both of them stiffened.
Molsak cautiously peeked his head out and looked around.
But not a single human was in sight—
yet the noise grew louder.
Although distant, Molsak realized this was the sound of multiple human voices.
He slid back into the lair.
The rest of the evening passed with footsteps occasionally echoing outside.
By nightfall, everything went quiet again—
perhaps those people had left.
What confused Molsak most was:
there were no animals in this desert to hunt—
so what were those humans doing here all day?
He had no idea that he himself was their target.
As night fell, they crawled out of their lair and lay flat in the sand.
Half the night had passed when suddenly—
the noise returned.
Startled, both of them sat up.
The sound was coming from all directions.
In this form, they couldn't return to their lair.
Sensing danger, Molsak grabbed Wasuri's hand and led her forward.
He intended to escape the desert and return only once the humans had left.
They kept walking carefully, scanning the area.
Despite moving far from their lair, they hadn't encountered anyone—
until a flash of light behind them made Molsak flinch.
He turned—
some shadowy figures were heading their way.
Molsak dropped to the ground and pressed his ear against the sand.
The footsteps confirmed multiple people were approaching.
He stood, tightened his grip on Wasuri's hand, and moved faster.
Just then, a flashlight beam hit them directly.
They had been spotted.
"Stop!" a voice shouted.
They didn't look back and started running.
Molsak was more worried for Wasuri—
he could have escaped easily, but her healing wound might reopen.
Still, they had to run.
Even if no one can outrun death—
handing yourself over without a fight is cowardice.
Fight death till your last breath—
and even if you lose, the world won't call you a coward.
As they fled, a bullet was fired behind them—
but by pure luck, Molsak had already pulled Wasuri down into the sand.
The bullet was perhaps a warning, not meant to kill.
The chief's orders were clear: anyone found must be captured alive.
Molsak spotted a sand dune up ahead and made a split-second decision.
Pulling Wasuri with him, he dropped down and slid toward the dune.
Even in human form, they could crawl with inhuman speed.
They reached the back of the dune—
but light flickered from the other side too.
Footsteps grew louder—
there was no time to flee.
They looked at each other.
This was no longer a time to think—
only to act.
They chose to fight.
Molsak spotted a small hollow in the dune.
He shoved Wasuri inside and moved to the front where the attackers would arrive.
There were six armed men, all holding guns.
As they spread out—an error in judgment—
Molsak waited in ambush.
One man walked directly toward him.
Molsak struck like a panther—
taking the man down before he could react.
The gun flew from his hand.
Before the man could scream—
Molsak clamped his throat.
No sound escaped.
Within seconds, he was dead.
Molsak controlled his rage, stifling the hiss that nearly escaped his lips.
He then moved silently to the other side of the dune.
Another man, unaware, walked with his gun raised.
Molsak leapt.
The man sensed movement—
but it was too late.
Molsak slammed into him.
A strangled scream burst from his throat—his last.
Seconds later, he too lay lifeless.
Suddenly, footsteps pounded from the other side.
The scream had drawn attention.
Two more gunmen were approaching.
Molsak dove into the sand and waited.
They reached the bodies and stood stunned.
Before they could react—
a hissing sound rose behind them.
As they turned with raised guns—
Molsak pounced.
One fell with his throat crushed, the other with his neck bitten clean through.
Just then, a scream rang out—
from the side where Wasuri was hidden.
Molsak bolted.
But as he reached her, he smiled.
Two more bodies lay motionless.
Wasuri stood over them—her red eyes burning with fury.
She turned quickly, but smiled when she saw Molsak.
Running to him, she hugged him tightly.
He still hissed with rage.
These humans had hurt Wasuri without cause.
They sat there on the sand, watching the lights that flickered across the desert.
People were still searching.
Molsak wondered how they could escape this vast desert unseen.
Morning was their only hope.
In daylight, they could hide in their true forms and wait it out.
At dawn, they buried themselves beneath the sand—
invisible to all.
Meanwhile…
In the village of Bhairon, people awaited the return of their chief and the capture of the "poisoned man."
No news had come for two days.
Nuri knew what was happening.
The chief was searching for the "poisoned man"—
and Nuri had a feeling: that man was Molsak.
She had never met a more noble soul.
He had saved her life from monsters in human form.
Now she was helpless.
She couldn't protect him—only pray for him.
And sometimes, the prayers of the helpless are more powerful than weapons.
That morning, six dead bodies were found in the desert.
Three showed signs of being killed by the venomous man—
the same creature that had killed the chief's son.
The chief was enraged.
He vowed to capture the killer and deliver him a public execution.
Armed with money and manpower, they resumed the search.
That night, the hunt resumed with even more intensity.
Now in teams of ten, with brighter flashlights and loaded weapons.
The game had begun again.
Molsak and Wasuri slipped out—trying to escape the desert before sunrise.
Molsak then gave Wasuri an instruction:
"Stay a distance behind me. If something happens, hide. Escape the desert. I'll meet you later."
As they moved, suddenly, torches lit up around Molsak.
He was blinded.
Gun bolts clicked.
"Move and we'll shoot," someone warned.
He was captured and bound.
They dragged him before the chief.
Without a word, the chief assumed this was his son's killer.
Molsak's name was asked.
He said simply, "Molsak."
No one had ever heard such a name.
"Why did you kill our men?" they demanded.
Silence.
Beaten. Questioned.
Still—no answer.
"Did you kill my son?" the chief asked.
Molsak looked into his eyes—
and said nothing.
The chief looked away.
He couldn't hold that strange red-eyed gaze.
Molsak was thrown into a locked room in the chief's mansion.
In the morning, his fate would be declared publicly—
and everyone knew the sentence would be death.
But far away, behind a sand dune,
a pair of red eyes watched silently—
burning with vengeance…
and wet with tears.
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