short story

Of the Huntsman, Elio da Silva
France, 1767.
As the Beast of Gévaudan preys upon the countryside, a Jesuit huntsman is sent to destroy what the Church cannot publicly name. But the truth waiting in the dark may prove more terrible than the beast itself.
Written by Liam Whinery
Cover art & Design by Liam Whinery
Photo: *Intuition from Bronze* by Liam Whinery
Published by House Whinery 2026

You can find it on kindle -> Here

Excerpt

It was a hot evening in June; Elio had returned to his room from another long, disappointing day. Tracking the creature had proven difficult, and he was having his doubts. Downstairs, there was a small concert for private guests. The harpsichord sent whimsical notes of an adagio by Schobert directly up to him, riding the strings of a lone violinist. He listened intently while pouring fresh water into a basin. As he washed grime from his hands, events of the day began to replay. That morning, he had spent resetting empty traps placed days prior, certain the creature would have stalked those areas. That afternoon, he had examined the corpse of a peasant boy killed the night before. The throat was torn open and the body nearly bloodless. He closed the lids over his bright blue eyes left wide open in shock. Later, he stole solitude in a small copse of oak, where, through tears, he prayed for forgiveness in his failure to conclude this holy mission. Elio flicked the water from his hands and refocused on the present task of planning for tomorrow. While lighting a pierced tin lantern, he began to ponder. It had been a few months since his arrival, yet he had nothing to show for his efforts. Not even a dog’s leg could be found in his traps. At times, it seemed nearly every wolf had been killed by the King’s men while they were in the area. Louis XV had eventually receded in his efforts concerning the beast. After all, it was only the peasants who were prey.

“If the one you call Almighty God is, as you say, “the creator of all things”... then it was he who sent the monsters and the miasma to feast on humanity”. ~Korah Dacus