Written by: Zelix (My original penname, but Literotica already has an author by that name.)
A/N: Alright, here is the second chapter for those who found the first one interesting and are curious to read more :)
Before proceeding I will mention one thing; these chapters may leave you with many questions but there is no need to worry, as the story progresses answers will come. That's the type of an author I am.
Lastly, I'm sorry for the long wait; I'm juggling between two and soon possibly a third story as well.
Also, I got married on July 28th 2013, go me :)
Now, onto chapter 2!
"Talking"
'
Thinking'
=
Narration=
**** Scene Change ****
If this was a TV series:
Opening theme: Daisuke Ono โ Key Phase 1 (Shinrei Tantei Yakumo)
Ending theme: Minami Kuribayashi โ Signs ~Saku Tsukiichi Yoru~ (Total Eclipse)
Hunters Advent
={ Book 1: Birth }=
Chapter 2: =ยง The Underworld ยง=
= Within the hidden side of the world where normality and reality lose their meaning, a cauldron of death, blood and violence just waiting to be heated again, is where the Night Hunter Vincent Zacrias has made his home.
Where is he going? What is it that draws him to hunt those that defy concepts of ration and reason?
Is he one of those who chose The Underworld? Or did The Underworld choose him?
His tale continues... =
*** 2:34 am, Neighbourhood where Vincent lives, two hours after the death of Garth***
"The Forgotten", is what these districts were called these days. It was a strange thing to call the place, and the popular opinion as to why was due to the fact that a lot of the people who lived there were those who lived on social welfare, the unemployed, immigrants both legal and illegal alike, prostitutes and gang members.
But strangely, the area had a very low crime rate or drug related problems, even the gangs were oddly docile. All in all, it was a neighbourhood where those the society ignored lived but at the same time, there was almost nothing here that would draw attention from the authorities, press or anyone outside the area.
It was truly a place that one forgets almost as soon as it was remembered.
However, the reason for the name was very different; for this was where many residents of The Underworld lived.
In every city there were districts like this one that those from the world of light knew existed, yet it always found a way to disappear from their memories; like a stone thrown into the lake hitting the surface creating ripples yet always sinking into the darkness as the ripples die out, leaving nothing behind them to show if the stone had even existed to begin with.
'Walking alone in the dark in an area like this... or rather, if I was anyone else it would be terrifying, even dangerous to do so. But, it is only here and at this time that I feel this sense of clarity; I belong here, among these beings that at any time could become predators of mankind. My fate is to hunt them, yet only among them do I feel at home...'
was what Vincent was thinking as he walked the lit streets of The Forgotten, before saying to himself: "pffft...Fucking hell, what am I, an emo? Get a grip already."
He continued to walk the street, feeling the breeze passing through him along with the sounds and voices of the residents who had come out after dark, wondering if those who were asleep or not affiliated with The Underworld would ever realise exactly who, or what, lived right next door to them...
By the time Vincent finished his musings he had arrived at his home, a six-storey apartment building. It was somewhat run-down but utilities worked and the tenants were friendly enough, considering half of them were... more or less human.
After getting off the elevator on the 4th floor and entering his apartment, he had managed to start taking off his jacket and shoes before his phone begun ringing. Groaning to himself and really not wanting to have a conversation with anyone at the moment, even when the caller was Rosie, yet he still somehow mustered the will to answer it:
"What's up Rosie? The hunt is done, so why-"
"Renate wants to see you at 1pm sharp." Rosie interrupted him, her tone serious.
Vincent was wide-eyed after hearing that: "... What? Why does he want to see me?"
"I don't know, but one of his men asked, quite firmly, that I relay this request/order to you."
"Shit... But why does he want to see me? Last I checked I haven't done anything to warrant his attention." He replied. His earlier irritation temporarily replaced with growing concern.
"If I had to guess, it would have to have something to do with Garths' death but that is unlikely; I logged his death onto the Guild server less than 30 minutes ago. No one, not Renate, or anyone in fact, is capable of reacting this soon and fast."
"... Well, regardless, I'll see him in about 10 hours and find out what this is all about. But right now, I'm hungry and exhausted."
"Alright, take care Vinnie, I have a bad feeling about this."
"Yeah, I know. You take care as well."
And with that he ended the call and proceeded to finish taking his jacket and shoes off, before making himself a microwave dinner to eat. When he was done he plopped down onto the couch and let out a sigh of frustration, before thinking to himself;
'First tracking down an elusive Fallen for 3 days without real rest, followed by a boring hunt that left me craving for more and now I have to deal with Renate. But what the hell does he want? I haven't broken any of the district rules as far as I know.'
After taking a moment to breathe deeply in an attempt to counter the rising frustration, he resumed thinking with a questioning frown;
'But... something doesn't add up, not just about what Renate wants but also about Garth. He was elusive I admit, but he was not THAT good at it; if this was 20 years ago it wouldn't surprise me, but with the methods and equipment we've developed over the last 10 years, I wonder how he managed to keep evading us?'
Vincent then got up and said with an irritated tone to no one: "Aaargh... fuck it, I can't figure this out now, not with these annoying hunting withdrawals kicking my head all over the place."
With that he took the remote for the TV and turned it on, just surfing the channels at random; stupid talk shows, utterly retarded 'reality' TV shows, a half-decent movie, not so decent series, horrifyingly shitty soap opera... and the news, or 'borderline comedy starring humanity' as he liked to call them. A bit pessimistic or even morbid, but he made a living by killing inhuman predators, so there.
Then on more than one news channel, there were talks going on about a rise in drug related crimes due to some or another new or old drug, it was impossible to keep up with this shit so he didn't pay attention to it. Then there was a report about a home invasion where the perpetrator, believed to be either on drugs or insane had broken in and brutally butchered the entire family living there.
'But on the other hand, whenever I hear disturbing stuff in the news, I find myself questioning; exactly when did my head get so twisted? I live in a world with things that go beyond human understanding; things that can tear steel apart with bare hands, sustain themselves with the blood, meat or other organs of humans or God knows what else. They can even twist laws of physics at will. Yet I enjoy hunting them down more than anything else. Not because of justice or to protect the innocent, but becauuszee-'
Vincent's thoughts drifted away as he fell asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally takings its toll on the weary Night Hunter and whisking him away into that ever inviting darkness of dreams...
******
The thrill of the hunt for a prey that knew how to fight back... there was nothing like it; especially like tonight's game.
He had been chasing it for hours now, trying to be one step ahead but even with all of his efforts the best he could do was keep up with it, and he LOVED this.
The heat rushing in his head, the numbness that burned his body, his instincts howling like a beast, urging him to move faster, to react quicker, to sense and feel beyond what a human normally could...
And still his prey continued to elude him, leaving behind traps, launching surprise attacks, turning this hunt into a dance of madness between life and death. Both matching the other perfectly, just waiting for that one misstep that would plunge one of them into that final oblivion.
Then it happened; his prey made that misstep and he took the opening.
Now it was lying in front of him, wounded and helpless, trying to plead for its life but all of its words meant nothing because he couldn't hear them anymore; the pure joy of the hunt had made him deaf to everything except the pounding of his own heart. He then pulled the prey up, not even knowing what it was anymore... in fact, he didn't even know how this hunt had began or why, but right now he didn't care.
Its pleadings began to intensify, but for some reason even if he didn't understand a word, everything it was saying made him feel irritated, angry, until he wanted it to stop! With that thought, he thrust his weapon right into its chest, causing blood to spray everywhere, covering everything, but something was wrong.