The Hunter

  2044

  Heavy footprints sank deep into the wet mud, leaving craters that filled slowly with water. The owner walked to a deliberate rhythm, one that seemed primal and instinctual, a beat only they could hear. Three muscular legs shifted in a coordinated sequence, propelling the creature through the sodden underbrush. The air was dense with moisture, each step accompanied by the soft squelch of mud yielding under its weight. A faint breeze swept through the forest, rustling leaves and carrying unfamiliar scents. The creature froze mid-stride, its elongated nose quivering as it tracked the faint traces of other life.

  A sound traveled on the wind—sharp, sudden, unmistakable. Its massive ears, fringed with delicate, hair-like fibers, vibrated like tuning forks, locking onto the precise direction of the noise

  South. It came from the south.

  Without hesitation, the creature adjusted course, turning north to avoid whatever threat lay behind the sound. It moved with startling speed for its size, hooves pounding against the ground like a drumbeat. One-two-three. One-two-three. The rhythm echoed through the quiet forest, each impact sending tremors through the soil. Its body was powerful yet streamlined, its large hooves leaving prints twice the size of a horse's. The creature's head remained low, its thick lips pressed together, conserving energy for its flight.

  A sudden crash broke the pattern as it vaulted over a massive fallen trunk, splinters flying in its wake. There was an unusual number of fallen trees. Had the earth trembled recently, or was this destruction unnatural? The creature didn’t pause to consider—the noise from the south grew louder. Another sharp crack. A careless hunter, no doubt. The creature quickened its pace, the pounding of its hooves blending with the rushing wind.

  It barreled through another fallen tree, the trunk splintering with a loud snap. But this time, pain seared through its rightmost leg. The creature faltered, its head whipping around to locate the source of the agony. A metallic glint caught its eye—an iron trap embedded deep in its flesh, blood seeping from the wound and pooling beneath it. It let out a guttural bellow, the sound vibrating through the trees as it stumbled, its massive body collapsing onto the forest floor. Dirt and stones scraped against its hide as it skidded to a halt.

  A shadow moved in the periphery—a figure darting from the cover of the trees. The creature thrashed, but its strength was waning. The figure leapt onto its back with the agility of a predator, one hand gripping the creature's fur while the other wrenched the metallic trap free. Blood sprayed in an arc, eliciting a deafening roar of pain from the creature. It twisted and writhed, but the figure held firm, their movements precise and practiced.

  A knife gleamed in the dim light. The figure—a woman clad in dark, weathered clothing—pulled the creature's head back with unrelenting force, exposing the vulnerable flesh of its neck. With one swift motion, she drove the blade deep, slicing through muscle and sinew. Black blood gushed forth, coating her arms and dripping onto the forest floor. The creature’s struggles grew weaker until its head fell limp, its glassy eyes staring into the void.

  The woman stood slowly, her breathing heavy, her hands stained with the creature's lifeblood. She stepped down from its broad back and grasped its head, tilting it upward to examine her prize. The forest fell silent once more, the stillness broken only by the distant rustling of leaves. She lingered for a moment, the weight of the kill settling over her, before vanishing back into the shadows, leaving the lifeless beast behind.

  She let the severed head drop with a dull thud, her gaze shifting to the weapon that had pierced the beast’s leg. It was a sleek silver lance, its pointed tip now coated in thick, dark blood that shimmered in the fading light. She crouched to pick it up, gripping it with a gloved hand, and reached for a cloth tucked into her belt. Methodically, she wiped away the blood, revealing the polished sheen of the weapon beneath. Once clean, she held it up, inspecting it closely. Her fingers found the small button along the shaft, and with a quiet click, the lance began to retract, collapsing inward like a telescope until it was no larger than the palm of her hand. She slotted it into the smooth indentation on her armlet, where it clicked into place with a satisfying hum.

  Returning to the beast’s massive carcass, she pulled a coiled rope from her weathered bag. The rope was thick and sturdy, its coarse fibers rough against her hands as she worked it around the trunk of a nearby tree. The scent of damp earth and blood mingled in the air as she secured the rope into a loop. Taking a deep breath, she bent down, gripping the beast's heavy body. It was a feat of strength and determination as she hoisted the creature over her shoulder, its weight pressing down on her like a boulder. Her muscles strained, but she steadied herself, her boots digging into the mud for leverage. With a final heave, she managed to hoist the carcass into the loop, tying it securely and letting it hang from the tree. The body swung gently, creaking the rope with each motion.

  She stepped back, examining her work. The beast’s hulking form hung suspended, its lifeless body dripping dark blood onto the forest floor. She measured it with her eyes, calculating how much meat it would yield. A few days' worth, at least—enough to sustain her until she reached the next waypoint.

  Unsheathing the knife from her belt, she took another deep breath, steadying herself. This was always the part she dreaded most. Dressing a kill was messy, gruesome work, and no amount of practice had dulled the visceral unease it stirred in her. She clenched her jaw, steeling herself as she approached the carcass.

  Her knife moved with practiced precision, carving a coring ring around the beast’s anus to remove the digestive tract. The blade sliced cleanly through the hide, and she made a long incision from the hind legs to the breastbone, parting the thick flesh to reveal the cavity within. Breaking through the sternum took effort, the sound of snapping bone reverberating in the stillness.

  She paused to wipe the sweat from her brow before reaching inside the chest cavity. The diaphragm came away in her hands, revealing the alien-like anatomy of the creature. Even now, after countless hunts, the sight of its strange internal organs gave her pause. Thick, coiled tubes, translucent sacs, and pulsating vessels surrounded the heavy, sloping ribs. She reached in, her fingers finding the windpipe, thick and sinewy. With a firm grip, she severed it cleanly with her knife, allowing the organs to slide free.

  Blood continued to drain from the body, pooling beneath the hanging carcass. She set her tools aside and moved to wash her hands in a nearby stream, the cold water biting at her skin. When she returned, she began gathering kindling for a fire, her movements quick and efficient as the sky deepened into the maroon hues of twilight. The first flickers of flame caught the dry wood, and soon a warm fire crackled to life, casting dancing shadows against the trunks of the surrounding trees.

  The moon loomed low on the horizon, its crimson glow casting an eerie light across the campsite. She worked tirelessly, skinning the beast with steady hands, the hide peeling away to reveal the sinew and muscle beneath. An hour later, the meat was carved into manageable portions, skewered on sticks, and positioned over the fire. The rich aroma of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest.

  She sat back on her heels, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight. A sudden rustling behind her made her freeze, her hand instinctively reaching for the knife at her side. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat. Was it another of the creatures, drawn by the scent of cooking meat? Her muscles tensed, ready to defend herself.

  The sound came again—closer this time—but softer, less deliberate. She exhaled slowly, her grip loosening on the knife. Just the wind, or perhaps a harmless forest dweller. She leaned back, letting her body relax, though her eyes remained vigilant, watching the shadows shift in the firelight.

  “How long have you been there? It was rude to stare.”

  A figure emerges from darkness—a man in silver plated armor from neck to toe. He had black curly hair and a splash of humor on his face. “Well, I would have thought it would have been plenty rude to just stride in uninvited.”

  “It would have been,” she said, not looking at him.

  “Oh come on, not even a flash of recognition?”

  “I’m not dumb, Felix.”

  “Oh, so you do recognize me.”

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  “Your voice is irreplaceable.”

  “You don’t sound too thrilled.”

  She sighs and pokes at the peak, cutting a piece open to check the insides. After not being satisfied she turned it over to cook for longer.

  Felix took a step closer toward the camp. Her lance lands just before his feet, sticking in the ground reflecting the red moonlight. It was a clear warning. He held his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry, standing right here.” He held his hands up in a defensive pose. “Y’know, I’ve been hearing all kinds of things about you. About how you found a way to kill the Creatures of the Night?”

  She turned to look at him for the first time and saw that his face had worn with the lines of age. It had been some years since she had seen him last...not since…

  A faint pain dwelled in her side, she winced it away and focused back to his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Felix bent down to look at the lance, “Hm, is this it?” But before he could get close enough the lance returned to her side, landing in her outstretched arm, retracting and she replaced it back into her armlet.

  “For me to know. That’s how personal information tends to work.”

  “Secrets never looked good on you,” he said, shrugging. “Well, with as honestly I can say I hope you know we share the same goal. If you let me in on your plans we can work together to complete them faster.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t be like that.”

  “We both know that’s not your only goal. That isn’t the only rumor you’ve been following.”

  “How can I not?!” He broke his cool and reeled it back in immediately. “Sorry. You know how I feel.”

  “Of course I do. I’m the one who just called you out on it. It doesn’t change anything. What you’ve heard is wrong. Happy?”

  He stared at her with increased focus—his eyes strained.

  “Good luck trying to read my mind. I closed that avenue a long time ago. You’re not going to find anything useful. Except maybe where you can shove it.”

  He relaxed, realizing her point.

  She turned back to her meat and inspected the color again. This time, pleased with the result, she took it off the flame and handled it carefully over to her cloth. “You’re free to share a bite if you don’t have anything else to eat. If you can spare it I’d prefer if you left, though.” She said.

  “You know what I need to do, Allison. Please stop making this harder than it has to be. We both know—”

  “We both know…? Tell me what we both know? That I’m going to be on your hit list when this is all over? That if I work with you on taking out the others that you’ll just turn around and spike me when you find it most convenient? Or because you have some deluded fantasy that you have a child out there you want to kill too?”

  “She’s out there and she’s going to ruin everything! Is that what you want? Everything you’ve worked for, up in smoke?”

  “You haven’t cared about what I’m working for, not ever. You don’t get to play that card.”

  Felix took a deep breath and tried to keep from looking at the ground. “I don’t have to kill you if we can be sure that she is dead.”

  “She is dead!”

  “Then let me see! Show me the memory!” He yelled back.

  “You have spoiled this,” Allison started to wrap up the meat. “So thanks for that. I’m not showing you anything because you don’t deserve anything. Not even this fire,” she glanced in its direction and it was sussed out with a gust of wind.

  “Allison.”

  “Stop. We’re done. Stop following me. You can try to kill me all you please—it’d be the second biggest mistake of your life, but I’m nothing if not honest. I wouldn’t kill you if you tried, but I’d certainly make getting to the nearest outpost one hell of a challenge. Just give up on chasing this nightmare of yours. If you want to fight the Creatures of the Night then great. Go do it on your own time and stop wasting mine.” She had finished packing her things together in the rucksack she typically carried with her. “The plans I have are incompatible with the feelings I have for you. Accept that and make something of yourself.”

  Felix laughed, “You’ve always been an aggressive over-planner. You talk about being dedicated to your goals, but listen, I’m just as motivated for mine. Just because I’ve adapted doesn’t mean I’m chasing dead ends. And if I could chase them without interfering with you, trust me, I gladly would. But I can’t do that, babe. We’re intertwined in this and you have to accept that. I can’t accept you going at it alone.”

  “Tough.” She strung the bag up and stamped on a remnant spark from the fire. “For both our sanity I’m moving elsewhere. I’m extending you a pleasantry in not maiming you now—please take advantage of it and find shelter somewhere else for the night, because if you do continue to follow me I will do just that.”

  “You don’t have to go it alone, that’s all I’m saying.”

  She walked over to him and cupped his chin in her hand. “I’m not,” and gave him a smile. She headed off south from the campground, not watching his reaction. She’d know soon enough if he did choose to follow her, but she didn’t think he would. Not now. If he would, he'd wait enough time so that she couldn’t sense him.

  That gives me a good head start to plug some distance between us.

  About half an hour away from her old campsite she set up a second—smaller site. Smaller fire, just enough to warm her dinner back up and to keep her warm. She finished the food in peace and preserved the rest of the raw meat securely. Clean, organized, just how she liked it.

  She was moving toward a village in the south of what would have been New Jersey in her other life. Now at the tip existed a village called Remira. Felix wasn’t the only one who traveled on the wings of rumors—she had heard tales of people spotting a dragon in the mountains near Remira. A detail normal people would have passed off as myth or hallucination, but immediately grabbed her attention and focus.

  The Creatures of the Night often took the forms of different animals in their truest states. Not quite corporeal, but enough that a few townspeople could make the mistake. She took out her tablet from her bag that had her notes on the different creatures.

  Sakonna. That was the one that took the form of a dragon when not wearing human skin. She was one of the oldest ones on their planet, so she’d have to be extra careful about handling her.

  She chuckled to herself. Someone normal might not even believe she existed, but that would be foolish. She even had a previous encounter with Sakonna—one she’d not soon forget.

  She closed her notes and opened up the story she’d been writing. She looked with a fondness on the pages she’s written so far—for so long she had wanted to write something of her own but the ideas never came to her—not in the way that she wanted. Not in the way she felt deserved to be told.

  When she was much younger she had an imaginary friend named Jace who stuck with her when nobody else had. She liked to believe that he was still with her, but it wasn’t really the same as it used to be. Things rarely stay the same as when they used to be. Ever since she’d wanted to give Jace the story that he deserved. In some way down in her heart, it was how she spoke to him on these cold and lonely nights.

  For now all she had was a concept. She had a few images fresh in her mind that came back to her repeatedly. She saw a floating city—high above a forest below. She thought this was where Jace will have grown up, but the world below will be so much more expansive than just the floating city. The whole kingdom is called Seraphen. She knew from the start she wanted the land to feel holy—angelic almost. So taking the Latin root, Seraph, made the rest of it rather simple.

  In her mind’s eye, the capital city of Seraphen rested in the center of the continent—a walled city named Larinae. It is known as the Central Kingdom that the lands surrounding it pay tribute to—smaller kingdoms and territories of their own accord, but no matter the size all hail to Larinae. She had a map drawn up on her tablet—it had taken many nights to get just right, but she felt proud of the work she created.

  Jace’s floating city was off in the east—that’s where the forests were thickest and the tall trees helped to protect the city.

  She finished a biographical entry on Lord Aesolus—the establishing ruler of Windruth before turning the tablet off and setting it aside. She rested her head down on her bag and closed her eyes. Sleep came easily enough, her mind wandered to all sorts of different topics that she didn't remember when she woke except for one distinct scene of a burning pyre.

  The smell of cooked flesh emanated from the mass. She saw the walls of flame that surrounded whatever the bundle had been before—closing in and suffocating until the flames joined together and fused the mass into one lumbering heap of desecration.

  When she woke up she had a particular guilty feeling, but couldn’t place the origin. The dream didn’t mean much to her—not that she was big into decrypting dreams as it stood. She eyed her pack and felt tiny comfort in the fact that her sleep was a fully undisturbed one. It has been some time since she got a full night’s rest.

  She still had some time to go before she made it to her next destination, so she had to sleep where she could get it. Something told her that she wasn’t going to be able to get much of it in the coming times.

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