In His Victory Dancing Skin

I sat in the watchtower just inside the village adjusting my hides and warming my hands by a small brazier from The unusually bracing winds that were blowing tonight. The last time I was over 20 harvests younger, and I still had my son.  
 I was the only survivor of the 2 dozen men that tried to run down the scourge of our village for many years. Every time the two moons made their conjunction he would come, and he would always take a young unmarried man. The last time he took my boy. When we caught up with him he was sitting waiting on a stone altar holding a bone knife dripping with the blood of my child smiling like death itself under the skull of a great cat he wore on his head, dressed in the hardened tattooed skin of our villagers. Enraged we foolishly ran into the open temple court. All he had to do was let out a shrill bark and clap his hands. My precious boy convulsed and blood exploded from him sending out a massive gust of red wind and shockwaves that knocked us all down. Before I was even able to get up a could feel the years of Life draining from us to feed the dense evil jungle of the Panchayyah as the plants grew all around us sealing of a quick exit. 
 Between The Man The swarms of black birds and the traps only I made it back home to wait for his next visit, tonight. Gradually a smell came to me on the wind.
 It wasn't something I would normally be able to smell, but the wind was bringing it to me.. No it was being deliberately sent to me, The smell of tanning hides drawing my eye to him dancing in front of a moon making himself visible. He wanted to be found, and by me. I could feel his deadly gaze burning in to me so far away. Frantically I sounded the alarm. 
 To spite his inhuman speed at least a half dozen arrows had sunk into him form all the shots as he leapt the wall landing right on my watchtower with no indication of slowing. He held out a fearsome weapon only he could have used, it was flat golden bronze rod with three circular saw blades on each side. The wind began to shriek and scream as they bent around the blades making them spin. Sparks and dust flew as he cut in to the supports. Before another half dozen arrows had stuck into him we were falling through a thatched roof into the cushion of a grain storage hut. He was on top of me. I saw his sharpened yellow teeth. There was a cracking noise from inside his mouth, and he blew something on me. With the last of my energy I reached to chock him, but my hand only fell to his shoulder before I was unconscious. As my hand fell made contact with his shoulder I swear I head my Son's voice calling to me. 
 When I awoke I saw a horror standing above me It was the face of a young man dimly illuminated by colored hide lanterns. I could see bone, flesh, and muscle moving, but only covered by the milky white semi-transparent substance that separates skin and the greater flesh. Only an expert skinner can leave it intact. A weak voice came from it as I recoiled in fear.. “ddaad..?” The look in the unblinking eyes held both madness and deep affection.
 I couldn't speak only croak and stutter.. Looking around I could see the skinned bodies both horrible and familiar were tied to the wall and moaning. Many of them bore wounds from where the arrows had struck that monster tonight, having retained the connection to their flesh through the twisted black arts of an ancient and degenerate tribe. 
 A elderly dark and gnarled man came in from the dark with familiar yellow teeth. He pat the thing before me tenderly on the head. “Good boy.. always calls for father..” He handed a wooden bowl filled with items to what was once my son to hold. He took form the bowl the silvery half of a sharpened clam shell and examined it. I knew he would use it to take my skin and repair his coat, leaving the blood to pool in the back and save it for his black blasphemies. The boys held the bowl silently smiling. 
 “See wise Shaman of Panchayyah of The Temple of the Breath of the Land not so unkind after all. Like to keep families together, more then your sick village did when you killed my child 20 years ago. Keep you to together to catch up.”