Hunter's Story, pg. 2


"O-of course n-not, my lord," she managed to stammer out, before curtseying hastily and fairly running out the room, not even stopping to shut the door behind her. Hunter watched her exit with lingering displeasure and exasperation, then lithely crossed the room to shut the heavy door with a single push from his palm. A troubled look passed over his face and he pursed his lips, feeling a little twinge of guilt at scaring the human girl. After all, she really only had been asking a simple question, and that wasn’t so bad, was it? Certainly she had done nothing to deserve such a harsh reaction from him. Then words from his father reechoed his his head "You’re the hunter, you’re named for it-"

Scenes from his childhood replayed rapidly in Hunter’s head. A five year old Hunter walking into his nursery, to find his father, Thomas, with his mouth fastened onto Hunter’s nanny, drinking deeply; Hunter shouting in protest, running to try and pry her away from him. Thomas casually swatting him aside, knocking the boy into the stone wall while the he leisurely finished his meal. While the child slowly and painfully got up from the floor, his father released the now-limp woman, letting her slide bonelessly into a heap at his feet. Her head lolled to one side, exposing the two savage wounds in her skin.

Hunter cried out once again, limping as fast as his chubby legs would let him toward the woman. Thomas caught him roughly by the shoulder and turned him so that he blocked the boy’s view of the crumpled body. His father grasped Hunter’s chin and forced the boy to look into his cold, austere face. Hunter tried to look away, but couldn’t escape his father’s firm grip. Hunter had to stare into the larger man’s fierce, unforgiving eyes, the same cold yellow as his own. Thomas then spoke words that would be burned into Hunter’s memory from that time on: "Understand this now, boy. Humans are only here for two purposes: to amuse and to feed us. Both mean they are inferior to us. You are of the lamia, the born vampires, and more importantly, the heir of the Redferns: our family, the most powerful family in the Night World, son. We were born this way, and we stay this way by being the most ruthless, the most cunning, and the most unmerciful, especially when is comes to vermin, to -he spat out the word- humans. Do not ever forget they are beneath us, my son. Below us. They are prey, we are the predators. You are named to be a hunter of them. Do you understand this, Hunter?" Thomas said, punching the words into the child’s mind telepathically.

Dry-mouthed, Hunter nodded his small head in acceptance. He understood now. Humans were vermin, to do with as he wished-

-and nothing else, the nineteen year old Hunter thought decisively, snapped back into the present.

The door creaked open slowly and Jeanette’s auburn head peeked through. Hunter’s eyes fixed themselves on the girl.

"Would you like the water now, my lord?" she said tentatively, keeping her eyes averted.


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