Although it had been almost a year, Owen Prescott still had trouble accepting that he was homeless. To him it was only a temporary matter of circumstance, nothing that defined him as a human being.
As he poked the slowly dying embers of his fire, Owen looked out onto the flawless surface of the lake in front of him. Surprisingly, life out in the cold hadn't made him think of the world as bitter or cruel; it was exceptionally beautiful and sleeping under the stars was as close to magic as he would ever believe in.
Owen could hear the soft whistle of the summer breeze as what remained of his fire breathed its last, darkness creeping in with only the orange glow of the distant city lights for comfort.
I guess it's curfew, he thought, settling himself back onto his rolled up jacket and closing his eyes.
Even after a year he still had the slightest distrust of darkness and the things that lurked within the shadows, not the most irrational fear given his living arrangements. On any normal night it would be the rustle of leaves or the snapping of twigs that would send him flying upright, out of the depths of sleep and into uncomfortable hyperawareness. This time however, a far more terrifying sound echoed off the surrounding trees; a sound that did not send Owen into the wake of preparedness, it was a sound that chilled him to his core.
It was the thundering growl of a hound.
Owen moved his head towards the source of the noise, dreading to see the creature that could make such a sound, knowing that he was in trouble.
Nothing.
Slowly sitting up he tried to let his eyes adjust, hoping that by squinting he would at least be able to confirm that he was alone and praying that he had dreamt the sound.
"Who's out there?" he called meekly into the wilderness, regretting his decision immediately.
Great move Owen, of course a bloody animal is going to reply 'yep I'm here don't mind me'!
Owen stilled, straining his ears against the strengthening wind that was pushing harsh waves onto the shore of the lake; hearing nothing he turned towards the pulsating surface of the water. Something strange was happening; an earthquake? A whirlpool?
As the ground started to shake in time with the waves, Owen started to scramble backwards towards the wooded area.
Crunch.
Terrified he darted his head to the left, not believing what he was seeing.
Large patches of ground were being dragged a way, leaves and dirt tumbling backwards, as if something invisible was clawing at the ground. Owen, although willing himself to run away, was frozen to the spot. Every fibre of his body was telling him to get out of there, but as the impossible creature moved closer his fear had taken over. Behind him there was a large splash and silence fell upon the lakeside, but Owen was too preoccupied to notice.
He could feel the heat of the animal's breath, the overwhelming scent of decay creeping across his body and the air around him becoming thinner with dread.
Grasping at the dirt, he found the energy to pull himself away, adrenaline taking over and his lung-bursting screams echoing through the woods.
Immediately he was thrown onto his back, the pressure of giant paws crushing his chest and liquid laced with the smell of rotting flesh dripping onto his face.
Owen had resigned himself to certain death, but as soon as he closed his eyes and drew in a final rattling breath, the steady growl of the beast was cut short.
With a loud drawn out squelch Owen was sprayed with cold, black blood and the weight of the invisible creature dropped next to him.
He opened his eyes slowly and was greeted with the sight of his savior standing above him. A young woman stood wielding a long silver blade; she was soaking wet, her long auburn hair falling in waves across her face.
Owen was left speechless as he was faced with the beautiful woman. Although she was wearing all black, her clothes sodden and sticking to her slim figure, she was emitting an almost ethereal fading glow.
"Are you ok?" she asked, her voice soft and comforting.
Owen couldn't help but look at the empty spot beside him where he knew the dead thing lay, then back up to its killer as he got to his feet.
"N…uh…not really" he stammered, tears beginning to role down his cheeks as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
"You will be," she muttered leaning up against the tree, wincing as she held herself against it, "You probably want to get outta…ahh."
She doubled over crying out in pain and Owen looked on, brushing away his tears.
"Hey kid you're hurt," he said moving closer to where she was standing, "we better get up to the highway and get some help."
Owen reached out towards her, his instincts broken with concern for the stranger that saved him, but instead of taking his hand she carefully pushed it away.
"I'm fine, you go and I'll catch up" she suggested, her voice steady but her eyes glazed with something that Owen could only describe as sadness.
"Alright" Owen said reluctantly and started walking into the woods, "The cops aren't going to believe…"
Owen turned back towards the young woman but was shocked to see that she had disappeared. He had only moved a few steps into the cover of the trees, not far enough for her to move away without him hearing or seeing her.
She was just gone.
I hope you liked the opening to my story; it's a bit of an experiment so I welcome any reviews and constructive criticism. As titled this is only the prologue and so have no fear, our two favourite hunters will be featuring in the next chapter.