Chronicles of Absolution: Orion's Legacy

Chapter 1

Then

… Angela put the slender bag on a table and proceeded to pull out some of the weapons that were only used against powerful foes. They included a bow, a spear and a short sword. She checked them over and laid them out…

… It was nothing like Absolution but like her blade, it had abilities that could take down anything should the worst come to pass. She needed to train just to get a feel for it since it had been a while since she last wielded the Orion weapons…

… She chose her words carefully, "I heard that you are quite the archer. Much better than your brother Dean… unless that was a misunderstanding." She deliberately emphasized the doubts.

… Jarvis paused by the glass case in the library that he came to see. He peered into the case at the object and gave a slight shake of his head. He could hardly believe that Kaye had managed to acquire it and keep it safe. He must have kept it on his person and he wouldn't blame Kaye. The object in the case was a powerful one indeed since it was very sensitive to who exactly held it. At least that was what he was assuming, considering that it reacted to his touch when he fingered the stone in it…

… "I always thought the gauntlet was a legend but then again in my experience things like that seldom turn out that way."

… "And study the stars. The clue is in the stars Cat."

… Austin watched as Dean took a look at the gauntlet in the display case. He raised his brow at the interest Dean was showing in the item in the case. He didn't know much about it except what it said on the catalogue card that was place next to it.

Dean stared at it. He was drawn to the blue stone that located right where the top of the hand would be. It was deep blue and it almost looked like an eye. If he peered closer, it looked like it and for a brief moment he thought he saw something…

… "Well I can tell you that Orion is a real person. What the history books don't tell you was that he was considered one of the best hunters next to Artemis. In fact there is some lore that says that he was trained by Artemis herself when she chose him."

… "Orion is simply called the Hunter and if you are familiar with your constellations it is one of the most significant and easily recognizable along with Scorpio.

"The Hunter is a title or recognition as it has become known throughout the centuries but the original was of Greek origin and he was skilled in the art of hunting. His best known exploit is chasing down the two beasts that threatened to make life miserable for humans."

… "I wouldn't get too nervous just yet," Angela replied. After reading what Kaye left her, she felt ready to bring him back so she could kick his ass. Slowly she put her left on her right wrist and lifted her jacket sleeve to reveal the bracelet. "Meet the Orion's belt."

… Castiel turned her wrist gently to look into the stone. He focused his gaze and seemed to talk to it, "So you have chosen and from outside the bloodlines."

The stone reacted by glowing slightly. It was like it knew what Castiel was and it didn't even try to burn him. It flickered and glowed…

… Isis smiled in return. "She is special on many levels. To me it is like that of a mother and daughter. Her abilities while special are nothing compared to her nature."

… nored it as she meditated. It became irrelevant.

"Energy binds the elements, the glue that holds all things together," Shiva said as he walked beside her.

"Ethereal energy," Angela replied as she went into another posture. "Like all things are composed of matter, that matter is held together by energy."

Shiva nodded as he watched her. On the wire, it made her a head taller than he was but then again the wire was suspended only a foot off the ground. Yet the posture was the same a person suspended a hundred feet above ground. "True. When something changes, it is merely the energy shifting into another form."

… "It's not my path I doubt, Lord Shiva. I know my path is the one of the warrior and more specifically the one of the Malachi, the chosen protector of man. I doubt my abilities trying to complete that path."

… "You know what it means to sacrifice for the greater good. It is something you have done all your life. You understand it better than even the most dedicated of warriors."

"If crisis is not averted then all suffer."

"All life is suffering according to Buddha." Shiva paced around Angela. Occasionally he adjusted a strand of her hair. "But it is temporary, conditional, compounded by other things, which leads to the second…"

"That to understand suffering, one must find the cause of that suffering. We continually crave for something outside ourselves to make us happy. To know is to begin the means of ending what causes that suffering."

… She knew that Augusta had decided on that though she was curious about the girl's father Mikhael and what he had to say. She made a mental note to seek him out and talk to him. He was from one of the hunter lines and that was better than some of the low down scum that expressed interest in Augusta. She had no problem with the hunters except when they were stupid and did the shoot first and ask questions later thing with her…

… Mikhael Marinos was from one of the seven lines of Hunters. He came from a long line of family tradition that specialized in using more spell casting methods of trapping and taking care of the creatures of the night. The youngest of three brothers and was the more accepting of the fact that there were creatures out there that just wanted to live in peace. He had to be otherwise he wouldn't have gotten involved with a human turned into a semi-vampire of sorts…

… "I am the Hunter. I alone can stop them." Orion looked at Angela. "I allowed you because you are a hunter even though you aren't of the sacred lines. You have not let power corrupt you."

… It was almost comical when Sam and Lenya turned their heads to see Angela standing there holding the Orion spear. On her wrist was the bracelet but it wasn't the pretty jeweled piece that was hiding in plain sight. It was like the leather ones Sam had seen her wear but this one was metal like and the sigils were like the ones on her leather ones and they were mingled with other sigils that were probably related to the Orion's belt…

… "I feel a connection with her. I admire who she is which is a warrior but what ticks in her heart and soul; it's a beautiful thing…

… Separate but equal One and the same Traveling the long road And calling each other's name…

… "And maybe it is a gift for what you've done. A reward to be what you are supposed to be."

Angela looked at the grizzled hunter with a raised brow. She started to say something when a shadow caught her eye. She blinked as she recognized who it was and willfully ignored him, "And what is that? Hero? Villain? Human? Monster?"

"Just you, Angie. Just you."

Now

It was rhythmic the pattering of feet against the ground. They were light and fast steps and would usually indicate that it was someone of a smaller build. Or someone that had learned how to run fast by not putting so much weigh on their feet. In either sense, it was rhythmic and slightly erratic with the occasional stumble over the uneven ground and the thrashing of branches. But none of that compared to the stench that was filtering through the forest.

Fear.

It was a powerful emotion, capable of emitting a scent that was a lure. Like how a shark was lured by the scent of blood. It was intoxicating and irresistible because from fear, it attracted pleasure, the thrill of the hunt. It also attracted the need to act, especially when there was the scent of the one doing the chasing.

Hunting was an art and a skill that took a lifetime to master. An irony since a lifetime was all a hunter had. And within that lifetime, you learned what you needed to survive as well as how to track, hunt, and kill that which your skills were honed for. And your skill depended on your family and what you were best suited for.

He sat squatting on the thick branch of the tree looking out, listening to the sound. He heard the quick pattering of feet and the stumbling. He heard the crashing of the brush and snorted. A noisy prey was no fun at all since they practically gave away their location if you wanted to play hide and go seek. Then again a hunt was a hunt and the noisy ones were good at running and that was where the fun was. He licked his lips as he continued to listen.

The second pair was pattering just as well, but it was precise. There were no mistakes. You wouldn't be able to hear them if you weren't listening hard enough. That meant that it was someone on the hunt. The thrill was there and it came in stalking the one being chased. They ran blindly but you ran with purpose and then you pounced when they least expected it and they would never see it coming.

To add to the challenge there was the sound of rain pouring. It could mask the steps if care were given. The splashes from the puddles spoke of the fear that was emanating throughout the entire area. It carried itself on the air and wafted through. It mingled with the rain and the heat that rose from the earth. The rich smells and sounds… it all lent themselves to the thrill of the hunt.

He sat on the branch and looked out. He had his role to play. He would not give chase unless he had to but he had his role. Everyone had a role. You followed it or people died. It was plain and simple. There was no room for second guessing. If you had the shot, then you took it. You did your job and people were safe. That was what he was there for as he sat on his branch, listening and waiting.

The crashing through the brush got louder and he could hear the pants of fear. The time was coming. He stood up on his perch and made ready. His weapon was removed from his back and he held it as he listened. If they didn't come this way, then he would be free. He stared into the pouring rain and listened to the pattering of footsteps.

The breathing was labored. They were near exhaustion but by no means ready to give up. There was the sound of stumbling but they were not down. This made the chase interesting. He listened. Listened. And there it was. They were heading this way. It looked like he was going to have fun in this chase after all.

The bow was simple but effective. Some liked knives and others liked guns. The bow and arrow left for distance and the cleanliness of the kill. And there was no taint of gunpowder. He notched and arrow and drew back as he straightened his position. He pointed it where he heard the sounds were heading. His eyes narrowed as he studied the brush and listened to the rain, the pattering of feet. It was like everything came to a still.

He could hear the heartbeats. The steady thumping of his. It was in sync with the pattering of the one doing the chasing. Perfect rhythm as it chased the panicked rhythm. It was coming until the sync was gone. The other lost the prey but he still had it. He could see the rustle of the brush and drew back, ready to fire. He heard the footsteps coming faster, like they were desperate until they crashed through and slowed to a stop. Foolish.

Safety was an illusion here. There was no safety as his lip curled and he drew back. He released and it flew with a silent high pitch. No one would hear it. Not in this storm. It was flying towards its target. He wouldn't miss. He never missed. This one was a kill shot and the victory would be his. He pursed his lips in victory.

Then it stopped.

The arrow was on target but it never made it. At the last second the target turned and stuck out his hand. His fingers closed around the shaft. He held it in his hand and he was looking up. Looking up where it came from. That meant… he could hear it. Time for up close and personal.

The target remained on the ground. It watched as he leapt down and drew another arrow, poised to shoot. The target looked to be fast but he was worn down. He could see it from the bloody cut on the arm and the way the target favored a leg. It was enough to slow it down but not kill. That was why there was always a backup.

"You're making a mistake."

The target dared to talk to him? That was unheard of. Most of the time they just attacked and then that justified killing it. He replied, "I don't think so. You are prey. I hunt your kind."

"I am not the creature you seek."

They were liars. They always were. Always trying to blame something else. They were all the same. They were monsters. They killed people. He drew his arrow back and fired only to have that one dodged but he was quick. He had another out and fired. This time it hit its mark and his lip curled as it struck the back of the shoulder.

The target grunted in pain as it reached for the arrow. It pulled it out and looked at it. "You are making a mistake," it repeated.

"I doubt it," he said. He drew another. He could hear the pattering of his teammate. They would come and help finish it off. "Now do what you normally do and attack me so I can justify putting this through your worthless heart."

"I am not… the thing… you need to hunt," the target repeated. It was starting to pant now. The trap was working its magic and starting to affect it. It wouldn't be long before it was completely weakened. But that would make the hunt pointless.

"You killed those children."

"You are wrong."

The hunter looked at the monster and drew back. "You are wrong. You and your kind will die." He released the arrow and had another drawn and fired.

The first missed but the second hit and hit into the heart. The hunter's lip curled in satisfaction just as his partner came crashing through asking, "Did you get him?"

"Yes," the hunter replied as he looked at the corpse with a smirk. He looked up to see his partner looking concerned. "What?"

The hunter couldn't believe it as his partner went through the body, checking it. He held his bow at the ready just in case something happened. He scowled at his partner and said, "Leave it. It's only a monster."

"Shit."

The hunter frowned, "What?"

His partner turned and held up something. The hunter looked at it and shrugged, "So what?"

His partner gave him a look. This was bad. "We were wrong."

The town was a sleepy little town, the kind you can get yourself lost in and the hustle and bustle of the world would pass you by. It was the kind of place that was written in those romantic tales of sleepy towns and the like. It was within a fairly reasonable distance to the city if you needed things that weren't readily available. Some would say that it was the perfect place to raise kids and it usually was. It was why Greg thought it would be a good place to settle down and raise a family.

It was a typical night even though it had been raining. Everyone was in bed or coming home from a night out at the local bar. He was on his way home after a long day at work in the auto repair shop and having a few with friends at work. He had his hands in his pocket and his backpack slung over his shoulders. A thick jacket went over the coveralls he wore to work. He looked just like anyone else even though he was pretty fit for an auto mechanic to the point it had the local single ladies swoon and flirt with him. It was quiet as he walked down the street that led to his house.

The house was a little bungalow house and one that he got at a fairly reasonable rate considering that he just came into town on the railroad and decided to stay. It was as far as he could get from what he was running from and close enough that they wouldn't be foolish enough to come near. It had been fairly peaceful and they respected his wishes. He just wished that they would see his reasoning. He sighed as he unlocked the door to his house and called out, "Idalia, I'm back."

There was no response and Greg frowned. He put his keys in the dish by the door. It was the only way he was ever able to remember to take them. He dropped his bag down in the entry hall and called out again, "Idalia?"

He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a mason jar full of liquid. "I made a stop for you."

Greg started walking through the house to the kitchen. He looked around in the usual places for his companion. "Idalia? Are you even awake? It is your usual time."

He walked into the kitchen without turning on the light and put the jar in the fridge, thinking that she would get to it later. He paused to see if he wanted a beer but deciding that he had enough, he closed the door. He turned towards the living area and flicked the switch. The light didn't go on and he tried again. He frowned thinking it was a fuse. The house was old and he was constantly replacing things while saving to have it overhauled.

Greg went back to the kitchen and pulled out one of the flashlights he kept around the house just in case this happened. He checked it to make sure it wasn't one of those halogen ones. Those hurt Idalia's eyes worse than a normal bulb when she met it head on. Satisfied that it was working, he went outside the house to take a look at the fuse box. It was a fuse and he replaced it quickly and he saw the light go on. Closing the box, he sighed making a mental note to buy more fuses when he went into town in the morning.

He entered the house through the kitchen entrance and clicked off the flashlight and headed to the living room. He decided to call for her again, "Idalia, no games tonight…"

When he entered the room, his heart felt like it stopped. Idalia was lying on the floor, her eyes were opened, wide eyed in fear. She was lying in a pool of blood and he could see a large red spot in the middle of her chest. He looked at her and her eyes moved towards him. When she saw him, her eyes widened and she whimpered his name, "Greg." It was followed with her taking gasping breaths, "Get… out…"

Greg didn't have time to look around. He sensed it rather than saw it. Something was in the house and they were sneaking up on him. It broadsided him and knocked him into the bookcase near the wall that held the collectibles that Idalia loved. They clattered to the ground shattering on impact. The ones that didn't fall off the shelves were knocked over and didn't suffer any worse than what they did. Greg had covered his head to protect it and cautiously peeked through his arms when he was viciously grabbed and flung into the coffee table.

He landed on his back with a thud and he felt the wood dig into his back. He didn't feel it though since his adrenaline started to flow. He caught a glimpse of something and heard the sound. He rolled to his feet and started to run. He headed towards the hall closet when he was clipped again and he fell face forward and a heavy mass fell on top of him.

Going with instinct, he drove his elbow upwards and hit soft flesh. He heard a grunt and he was able to push up and get the body off him and he was back on his feet. He took off for the closet and flung it open. He grabbed his rifle and made sure it was loaded. Idalia never liked him having it but he said that it was better to be safe than sorry. He was glad to have it but it was too late for Idalia.

Seeing that it was loaded, Greg pulled it up in the ready position and started making his way through the house. He had to get to the kitchen door and head out to the barn. It was really a shed but Idalia called it a barn since that was considered his man cave and hence made him an animal. It had been in jest and one that he took in good humor and a good cover for what he kept in there. Right now he needed to get in there if he was going to have a chance.

He steadied his breathing and checked his corners. It was a pitiful thing that he had to act like he was making a breach in his own home, but considering that there was a thing loose in his house, on his property… it was better to not take any chances. His breathing was controlled as best as he could as he felt fear trying to worm its way up his spine. He could hear it stalking him and following him and he didn't like that it was doing that.

He made it to the kitchen and was out the door. It was stupid to make a break for it in plain running. That would only incite the chase even though he was already being chased. He headed for his shed but took cover and checked his six to make sure that he had a clear run to the shed. He didn't like it since he could sense that it was stalking him. Like it was biding his time until it decided it was tired of playing with him and go for the kill. He didn't like it at all since that was full of unknowns and he was on his own for this.

He made it to his shed and grabbed gear that he hadn't used but kept just in case. He flung it on and stepped out. He could have holed up in the shed since it was made to withstand an attack but he didn't have supplies that lasted forever. Besides if it was what he thought it was, then he needed to protect his town. There were people here that wouldn't understand and he couldn't have that on his hands. He opened the door with his rifle and gear and called out, "Alright you asshole. Come and get me."

The air was quiet as his muscles tensed. He steadied his breathing and took to listening all around. It was out there and he was going to get it. His nostrils flared as scents filled his nose and his body slipped into old habits. He stilled his breathing until it was barely a whisper. It was then that he heard it. It was circling, moving and…

It came out from behind and barreled into him. Greg felt pain rip through his body as he hit the dirt. He grimaced in pain as he tried to get up. It was then he heard, "You should've known better than to be a traitor," before he heard the sounds of attack. He whirled to meet it head on.

A/N: Looks like things are not as quiet as they seemed and a mistake was made. Stay tuned for next time on Orion's Legacy...