Post 1: Hunter

Hunter

It’d been a long time since he’d killed anyone. It’d been a while since he’d felt someone’s life source running through his veins. It’s not that he overly liked the feeling; he’d just been away from war, battle or just fighting for a long while. It was like he’d been taking a break. He wasn’t entirely prepared for the onslaught of joy that filled him when he took a life. His veins pulsed and his heart slowed a little. Maybe it was because it’d been almost a decade since his last reaping or maybe it was just that he’d never killed a Sprite before that he felt this way. A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“Hunter, you enjoyed that way too much.” A deep voice spoke from behind brought a scowl to his face. The others had killed so recently that they wouldn’t mind stopping mid-fight, or at any time really, just to make fun of him like he was a child. Across from them Mendax Andana, their Storyteller, worked his ability on the few civilians that had been about to enter the small café. Hunter shook his head as Mendax winked at one of the women and sent her on her way with a finger wave. The place cleared slowly; the people walked like zombies, as Mendax controlled them.

“Well, it has been a while since I’ve killed. Don’t think I’m turning, I can control the Ascendance.” The Sprites’ powers still coursed through his veins, pulsing and vibrating until it settled in his blood cells. “We didn’t get the answers we wanted.” A grunt sounded beneath him as Julius hurled himself to his feet. His eyes were large, the life source the Sprite had tried to steal from him settled once again in his veins.

“Well, we know one thing. It’s the Malus; they have reached new lows. One must wonder, if they were able to persuade the elves to help them with their mysterious dark quest, who else have they convinced to their side.” His thick, European accent rolled from his tongue as he brushed the dust from his pants. He spoke in an odd rhythm. His speech was unlike any of the other warriors on the team, not necessarily in riddles but an odd discernment, oracle type form of obvious observation. “I tried to heal him but he was so filled with dark power that…there would have been no way. His spirit was already gone the moment he betrayed those who loved him. Where the mind has already deceived, the body is soon to follow. There is just…” Hunter clasped him on the shoulder and drew him in close.

“Julius, you can’t heal everyone. You have to be more careful. If I hadn’t snapped his neck he’d have taken your life source and wouldn’t have thought twice about it and you would be dead.” He pulled away and shuffled his feet. The frustration he felt from not getting answers couldn’t even compare to the sadness he knew Julius dealt with. It was the price of being a Healer, and also the price of being thousands of years old and still as vulnerable as a human. The man was strong in his own way but his gentle nature was, at times, his downfall. Julius turned away from him, his fingers on his chin, thinking to himself.

“Hunter…” Tristan began, his voice wary, but stopped when Hunter raised a hand.

“You have nothing to fear.” He shook off the well-placed worry and walked across the small establishment to the open door in the far corner. It was a decent place, its small booths and brightly colored counters gave a sense of happiness despite the dank dark town they’d seen just outside the doors. They’d never been to Lowly, a city just east of New York City. Here, the ratty buildings and dark alleyways seemed to second as a hideaway for junkies. The electrical pull of dark power was strong here; he could feel it in his veins. And yet, this small café filled with it's bright colors and homey trinkets stood out as a beacon of redemption for the entire area. Every ratty town has its glories, I guess, Hunter thought.

“Technik, report.” Tristan’s voice sounded out.

Hey guys, I’m sorry I couldn’t get much information for you. I…I sensed a lot of dark power resonating from that side of town but I’m not entirely sure where it went. Not all of it dissipated with the death of the Sprite. For some reason I have a feeling there is more hiding in that area than what we’ve discovered but without being there myself I can’t quite pin point where it's coming from. I’d think that any small place outside of New York City would be infested with the Malus but they seem to have gone; either to a different region or left the planet entirely. David (their Tech guy, favorably known as Technik) sat at home in his well-loved laboratory. He rarely left their home and instead spoke to them through the mental connection each of the dark warriors shared.

“Technik, can I get a little more back ground on this café? It seems an odd place for a Sprite with all that dark power to just hang out by himself.” Tristan, the Leader, spoke aloud and kicked the corner of a booth. Hunter watched him closely as the two mentally conversed about the establishment, the muscles of his arms flexed and tightened, whenever Tristan was in that mood it was best to steer clear. “We have been running around chasing our tails and I need answers, yesterday!” he yelled before leaving the cafe. Hunter moved quickly, exiting through the back door just behind Tristan.

Hanging back to make sure the café was secured, Hunter shut the door firmly behind the last warrior. Ahead of him, he heard a sharp breath intake. Immediately, he shifted his feet and his hand dropped to the hilt of his dagger. Silently following motions to stay back, he watched as Vectio crept to the edge of the alley before stepping out. His shoes were silent against the pavement as he ran forward to then lean against the wall. He rocked out on the balls of his feet to peer around the corner. The five warriors still crouched in the alley rushed forward as Vectio gasped aloud in pain. He transported just to the left and raised a hand, the light from the sun glinting off the blade clutched in his fingers. Hunter couldn’t breathe as he surveyed the scene. A glow, emitting from the person Vectio held his knife to, blinded him.

“It’s…a woman.” Hunter whispered as a thundering started in his chest. The want, no, the need to protect this woman filled his mind just seconds before he found himself behind Vectio holding his own blade against his comrade’s throat. “Step back, slowly.” His voice was raspy as the storm continued to rock his chest. Shock ran through the team at his defensive actions. The second Vectio let go of the woman; Hunter nudged him aside, softly. He turned fully towards her and sheathed his dagger. The team stepped up to him, flanking him, but he threw out his hand to stop their movement.

The woman standing before him was the most beautiful human he’d ever seen in his entire life. Her eyes were emerald green and looked up at him in fright. Her lips were full but tight as she stepped back, away from him.

Unable to sense the tension among the warriors, Technik spoke through their mental connection. Guys! The woman standing in front of you is Adrian Culvert. She’s an editor’s assistant in New York, just graduated from NYCU. She lives alone. Her only living relative appears to be her mother, Annalise Lumina who lives in Florida. The woman is harmless. Hunter felt Tristan’s disbelief and knew the rest of the team could also. Whatever she'd done to Vectio would not count her as harmless and they knew it. He studied the woman for a moment but didn’t speak despite her questioning gaze.

“You…killed that man. The man back in the café.” Her voice was shaky and angelic. She'd tilted her head up, as she spoke, as if to convince them she wasn’t scared; they weren't convinced. The wavering in her voice gave her away. Just the music of it bled into his soul as something he’d never felt before moved in his veins. Shaking his head to dispel the fog, Hunter stepped forward again but this time he reached out a hand.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m Chase Hunter; you don’t have to be afraid.” Even without the persuasive powers of Mendax, the woman seemed to be relieved when she heard his voice. She sighed just before tensing again and leaned back against the alley wall. “Come, I’m here to protect you.” The woman snorted in disbelief and Hunter had to laugh. Even making a disgruntled face the woman was gorgeous, her small nose scrunched up and her mouth skewered. Her eyes flickered to the five tall men standing just behind him in curiosity. “Don’t worry, they will protect you too.” He ignored the mental warning shot at him from Tristan.

Holding his hand out once more, Hunter was filled with a zinging pleasure as she placed her own palm softly into his. It was different from the pleasure one got from taking a life; this one was relaxing, nurturing. Who was this woman and what was she doing to him? Was she even human?

"The only way to be a writer is to write, write and write. The only way...is to write." -Irma Jemison