Dant could still remember the smell.
It wasn't the smell of blood, though he'd lost plenty of it that night. Nor was it the smell of damp earth that had clung to his clothes as he tried to escape.
It was the creature's smell.
A mixture of wet fur, rotting meat, and something else he had never been able to describe.
Years later, he still woke in the middle of the night with the sensation of those teeth sinking into his shoulder.
It had all begun with a trip that was supposed to be nothing but fun.
Back then, Dant lived in Aracaju, Sergipe, and led a perfectly ordinary life. He worked, met his friends when he could, and complained about the same problems as anyone his age.
He didn't believe in ghosts, hauntings, or monsters. To him, werewolves belonged in the stories older people told to frighten children.
When he heard there would be a festival in Simão Dias, a town in the countryside of Sergipe, he decided to use a few days off to go.
He booked four nights at a small guesthouse in town. He planned to explore, enjoy the music, eat well, and forget his worries.
He left Aracaju in the morning and arrived in Simão Dias in the early afternoon.
The guesthouse stood on a relatively quiet street, a few minutes from the center. The room was simple, with a bed, an old wardrobe, and a window overlooking the neighboring rooftops.
After putting away his luggage, Dant went out to explore the town.
Barão de Santa Rosa Square was bustling. Stalls sold grilled meat skewers, roasted corn, and cold drinks. Near the main church, families chatted while children ran between the benches.
A stage had been set up for the festival performances.
Dant liked the atmosphere immediately.
On the first night, he danced, talked with strangers, and returned to the guesthouse almost at dawn.
On the second, he explored a few more streets and tried practically everything the food stalls had to offer.
It was on the third night that he heard the first strange story.
He was waiting for his order at a stall when he noticed two men speaking quietly.
"They found another dead animal out near the road."
"The one that belonged to Mr. Antônio?"
"That's the one. Its neck was torn to pieces."
"Must've been a wild dog."
"Man, no dog does something like that."
Dant listened without paying much attention.
At the time, his biggest concern was how long his food would take.
But when he returned to the guesthouse, he noticed something odd.
The neighborhood dogs were barking nonstop.
All of them seemed to be facing the same direction, toward the open ground beyond the last houses.
Above the rooftops, the full moon lit the streets.
Dant closed the window and went to sleep.
He had no idea it would be his last peaceful night's sleep for a very long time.
The last night of the festival
The fourth day arrived with the familiar heat of the countryside.
Dant spent the morning resting, went out for lunch, and returned to the guesthouse in the afternoon.
The festival was even busier that night. It was the finale, and he wanted to enjoy every last minute.
The sky was clear. The moon, still almost entirely full, looked enormous above the houses.
Near midnight, the music was still loud and the stalls were packed.
Dant bought some water, chatted with a few people, and decided to walk back to the guesthouse alone.
Over the previous days, he'd learned a shortcut. A side street passed a few old buildings and came out near where he was staying.
He took it.
With each step, the noise of the festival faded.
First the voices disappeared. Then the music became nothing more than a distant beat.
That was when he heard a sound.
It sounded like someone moaning.
Dant stopped and looked behind him. There was no one there.
The moan came again, this time from a lot enclosed by a low wall beside an old storage building.
"Is somebody there?"
No answer.
He turned on his phone's flashlight and moved closer.
The metal gate stood half-open.
There were long marks on the ground, as though something heavy had been dragged through the dirt.
Then he smelled it.
The smell he would never forget.
"Hello! Do you need help?"
Something moved behind the building.
Dant shone his light into the gap between the wall and some trees.
Two eyes reflected the beam.
At first, he thought it was a large dog.
But the animal began to rise.
And kept rising.
The creature was taller than any man Dant had ever known. It had broad shoulders, long arms covered in dark fur, and a head like a wolf's.
Its mouth opened slowly, revealing long, uneven teeth.
The worst thing wasn't its appearance.
It was the way it watched Dant.
There was something terrifyingly human in those eyes.
Dant stepped back.
"My God..."
The creature let out a deep growl.
He turned to run.
He didn't make it three steps.
A tremendous blow struck him from behind and threw him to the ground. His phone flew out of his hand and skidded across the dirt.
Dant tried to get up, but a claw ripped through his shirt and pierced the skin near his shoulder.
The pain made him scream.
He thrashed, landed a blow on the creature's muzzle, and managed to turn partway around.
That was when its teeth closed around his left shoulder.
The world seemed to vanish.
The bite brought a pain unlike anything he'd ever felt, as if something hot were being driven into his bones.
Dant tried to scream again, but he could barely breathe.
The creature pinned him to the ground.
He saw its bloodstained fangs coming closer to his face.
He thought he was going to die.
Then he heard a woman's voice.
"Hey! Get away from him!"
A powerful light struck the creature.
Farther off, voices began to draw nearer.
"Over here! Call for help!"
The werewolf raised its head.
For a few seconds, it seemed torn between finishing the attack and fleeing.
When it realized several people were approaching, it released Dant.
With a leap, it crossed the lot and vanished into the darkness beyond the wall.
Dant tried to follow its movement, but his vision was growing blurry.
A woman knelt beside him.
She had dark hair down to her shoulders, thin-framed glasses, and a flashlight in her hand.
"Look at me. Can you hear me?"
Dant tried to answer.
"The... dog..."
The woman quickly examined his injuries. She took first-aid supplies from a bag and pressed a dressing against the wound that was bleeding most heavily.
"It wasn't a dog."
Dant's eyes widened.
"You saw it?"
"I saw enough."
He tried to sit up.
"What was that thing?"
She held him firmly to keep him from making the injury worse.
"Right now, you need to stay awake. We'll talk later."
Dant heard someone say an ambulance was on its way.
Before losing consciousness, he managed one last question.
"Who are you?"
The woman leaned closer so he could hear her.
"Babizinha. My name is Babizinha."
It was the last thing he heard.
The woman who knew the monsters
When Dant opened his eyes, he was in the hospital.
His shoulder hurt so much that any movement seemed like a terrible idea.
He had received medical care, treatment for his wounds, and an assessment of the risks from a bite by an unknown animal.
But what really troubled him wasn't the pain.
It was the memory of what had attacked him.
The creature walking on two legs. The claws. The teeth. The stare.
It hadn't been a dream.
Babizinha appeared the following afternoon.
This time she wore ordinary clothes. She carried a small bag and wore a serious expression.
"How's your shoulder?"
"Like a truck ran over it."
"At least your sense of humor survived."
Dant watched her for a few moments.
"You knew what that thing was."
Babizinha pulled up a chair.
"I did."
"Then explain it to me."
She took a while to answer.
"You were attacked by a werewolf, Dant."
He let out a nervous laugh that ended in a grimace of pain.
"Are you kidding me?"
"I wish I were."
"Those don't exist."
Babizinha looked at his bandaged shoulder.
"Do you really want to argue about that after what you saw?"
Dant fell silent.
The memory of the bite returned so vividly that his stomach clenched.
"Why were you there?"
"I was tracking that thing. It had been prowling around town for nights. First it attacked animals. Then it started coming close to houses."
"Are you a police officer?"
"I'm a nurse."
Dant frowned.
"A nurse?"
"During the day."
"And at night?"
Babizinha took a deep breath.
"At night, I hunt the things most people believe don't exist."
Dant stared at her.
If someone had told him that story a week earlier, he would have laughed.
But there were teeth marks on his own body.
"How do you know how to do that?"
"My grandfather taught me. He spent many years facing creatures that appeared around here. I grew up hearing stories that, after a while, I discovered were true."
She lowered her eyes for a moment.
"When he couldn't go out hunting anymore, I carried on."
Dant tried to take it all in.
"So did you kill that thing?"
"No. It fled when the others approached."
"Could it come back?"
"It could."
The answer offered no comfort.
Babizinha leaned slightly forward.
"And there's something else you need to know."
Dant noticed the change in her voice.
"What?"
She looked again at the bandage on his shoulder.
"That bite left more than a wound."
A heavy silence filled the room.
"What are you talking about?"
Babizinha waited a moment before answering.
"There's a curse linked to certain werewolf bites. And I believe you've been infected by it."
Dant shook his head.
"No. Are you saying I'm going to turn into that?"
"I'm saying we need to find out what's going to happen to you."
Despite the pain, he tried to get out of bed.
"I only came for four days at a festival!"
Babizinha helped him settle back down.
"I know."
"I have a life in Aracaju! A job, friends... I never asked for any of this!"
"I know, Dant."
"Then get this thing out of me!"
She remained silent.
And it was in that silence that he understood.
Babizinha didn't know how to lift the curse.
Learning to survive
The four-day trip turned into weeks.
Dant extended his stay in Simão Dias to recover. Babizinha followed his wound care and, after he was discharged, continued helping with dressings, advice, and follow-up appointments.
Little by little, his skin healed.
But other things began to happen.
Certain noises seemed far too loud. Some smells bothered him in a way he'd never experienced before.
There were nights when he woke with his heart racing, overwhelmed by a restlessness he couldn't explain.
Babizinha wrote everything down in a notebook.
She didn't pretend to have all the answers.
Her grandfather had left notes, accounts, and warnings, but even he had never fully understood that curse.
"You need to learn to recognize when something is changing," she explained one afternoon.
"How?"
"Pay attention to your body. Write down what you feel, when you feel it, and what happened beforehand. And never hide it from me if you think you might hurt someone."
Dant closed the notebook.
"What if I transform?"
"We'll prepare a safe place, away from other people, until we understand better what you can control."
"And if I can't?"
Babizinha held his gaze.
"Then I'll do whatever it takes to keep anyone from getting hurt."
He realized she wasn't making an empty promise.
That night, for the first time, he was afraid not of dying, but of staying alive.
In the following weeks, Dant returned to Aracaju, but began traveling frequently to Simão Dias.
Babizinha began training him.
The simple lessons came first.
How to study marks on the ground. How to tell when a footprint didn't match the animal supposedly responsible for it. How to identify signs of a struggle, investigate reports, and find witnesses without frightening them.
She taught him first aid, how to keep an escape route open, and never to enter an unfamiliar place alone just because he'd heard a noise.
On his first night of training, Dant brought a flashlight and a piece of wood he'd found near a fence.
Babizinha eyed his improvised equipment.
"What are you planning to do with that?"
"Defend myself."
"Against what?"
"I don't know. A monster."
"And what if the monster is faster and stronger than you?"
Dant examined the piece of wood.
"I think I'll need a better idea."
"Now you're starting to learn."
She also taught him a lesson he never forgot: not every supernatural creature needed to die.
Some were dangerous. Others were frightened, lost, or merely trying to survive.
Before attacking, he needed to find out what he was dealing with.
Dant began accompanying Babizinha on small investigations. At first he watched more than he helped. He made mistakes, confused tracks, and once nearly fell into an abandoned cistern because he wasn't watching his feet.
Babizinha caught him by the shirt just in time.
"You stare into the dark so much you forget to watch the ground."
"That's because the monster usually isn't on the ground."
"You'd be surprised."
Little by little, fear began to make room for something else.
Determination.
Dant wanted to find the werewolf that had attacked him. He wanted to know who it was and why it had been prowling around town.
But he also wanted to prevent others from going through the same suffering.
The first time he joined Babizinha on a real search, they found fresh signs of the creature near an isolated property.
They followed the tracks into some vegetation, where they realized the trail curved back toward occupied houses.
Dant suggested continuing the pursuit.
Babizinha pointed to a nearby home with a light still on.
"What if it circles back while we're out in the brush?"
Dant understood.
They discreetly warned the residents about a dangerous animal, helped keep everyone indoors, and watched the possible approaches until dawn.
They didn't find the werewolf that night.
But no one was attacked.
Dant returned frustrated, until Babizinha asked:
"How many people do you think have to survive for a hunt to be worthwhile?"
He didn't know how to answer.
After that night, he never again confused hunting with simply killing.
The first transformation
The curse did not remain quiet.
One night, weeks after the attack, Dant felt an intense pain course through his arms and back.
He was at the secluded place he and Babizinha had prepared to observe possible changes, with reinforced doors and no one nearby except her, waiting outside.
At first, he thought it was another bout of pain.
Then he saw his hands.
His fingers contracted. His nails lengthened. Dark fur began to spread across his skin.
Dant tried to call for Babizinha.
But his voice came out distorted.
His body changed before his very eyes.
When he managed to see his reflection in a small window, he saw the face of a creature with wolf-like ears, fangs, and fur, yet he could still recognize something of himself in its gaze.
Desperation almost drove him against the door.
From outside, he heard Babizinha.
"Dant! Listen to my voice!"
He turned.
"Can you hear me?"
The creature breathed heavily.
Dant didn't know how long he stayed in that form. His memories of the night were incomplete, tangled with pain, fear, and the sound of Babizinha calling his name.
When he came to himself, he lay exhausted on the ground.
The door remained closed.
Babizinha was waiting on the other side.
It took him a while to speak.
"I turned into a monster."
She opened the door only after making sure the transformation had ended, then knelt beside him.
"You came back, Dant."
"But I turned into that thing."
"I saw."
He looked at his hands, human again.
"Weren't you scared?"
Babizinha hesitated.
"I was."
"Then why didn't you leave?"
She stayed beside him.
"Because you needed help."
Dant held on to that answer.
But he could never quite believe it was the whole answer.
Babizinha's gift
Months after the trip that was supposed to last only four days, Dant was no longer the same person.
He still lived in Aracaju, but his life now also involved research, tracking, training, and nights when he had to take precautions he'd never imagined.
The curse still held many mysteries.
He didn't have complete control over what happened to his body, and Babizinha had never promised that he would.
Even so, he had managed to keep living.
One afternoon after training, Babizinha appeared carrying a little dog.
She was a puppy with white fur, caramel patches, and floppy ears.
Dant watched the little creature wriggle happily in her arms.
"What's that?"
"A dog, Dant."
"Thanks for clearing that up. I thought it was an alligator."
Babizinha laughed.
"She needs someone to look after her."
"And you thought of me?"
"I did."
The puppy was set on the ground. She sniffed Dant's shoes, tried to chew a shoelace, then sat down on one of his feet.
"Looks like she's chosen me."
"Or she likes the smell of your sneakers."
Dant crouched down and stroked the puppy's head.
"What's her name?"
"Aurora."
The little dog lifted her muzzle at the sound of Babizinha's voice.
Dant smiled.
"Hi, Aurora."
The puppy tried to climb into his lap.
In that moment, he felt a simple happiness he hadn't experienced for a long time.
Babizinha sat down beside him.
"She won't solve your problems, Dant. She'll need food, care, walks, and lots of patience."
"Are you trying to give me a responsibility?"
"I'm giving you a friend."
Dant looked at Aurora.
For the first time since the bite, he could imagine a future that wasn't made entirely of fear.
And he decided that, for as long as he had the strength, he would use what he had learned to protect people who didn't even know they needed protecting.
He hadn't become a hunter because he enjoyed facing monsters.
He became a hunter because he knew the terror of being helpless before one.
And because someone had saved him when she could simply have left him behind.
The question that never went away
To this day, Dant remembered that night in Simão Dias.
The distant festival music.
The moon over the rooftops.
The teeth sinking into his shoulder.
And Babizinha kneeling beside him, trying to keep him from dying.
Over time, he learned to recognize many creatures. He faced dangers he would once have considered impossible and discovered that the supernatural was closer to ordinary people than anyone wanted to believe.
But there was one question he could never forget.
Babizinha had been raised by a hunter. She knew what that bite could mean. She knew Dant might turn into a creature as dangerous as the one that had attacked him.
Even so, she saved his life.
She tended his wounds.
She taught him to fight.
And she entrusted him with a little dog who would become his inseparable companion.
Dant never fully understood why she had done all that.
Sometimes he thought about asking.
Other times, he was afraid of the answer.
Because, on that last full-moon night in Simão Dias, Babizinha hadn't merely saved a stranger.
She had chosen to give a chance to someone who might become the very thing she'd spent her life hunting.
And Dant still didn't know whether, in her place, he would have done the same.
That was how it all began.