Prologue
Countryside was an animal's best friend. The tall concrete and glass of cities made it harder to hide, harder to stealthy creep up on people and enjoy the bulge of surprise that filled their eyes, every time. Not that Victor didn't have the occasional moment where he preferred to flout the stereotypical hunter qualities, and swagger down open roads, prey would see him quicker, and try to run. He liked that, and the dramatic black coat.
This lush greenery, bone dry in the summer weather, sparked a congregation of different scents which tantalised his keen senses. He felt the dry grass, tasted the lush flowering berries which dotted the mass of random bushes and shrubs and stalked forward. Unfortunately the weather didn't permit for his usual, thick coat but the sun was pleasant enough, warming his skin as he came nearer the target.
It was a farmhouse, sheltered in the breast of two valleys and reasonably big, though the adjacent barn gave that impression. The actual living quarters was a simple, grey stone house, with black slate roof – some were missing – and large, wooden framed windows.
Victor approached from the back of the home, he saw conservatory doors – 'More like windows with a handle' he thought with a sneer. The target would be able to see him, and this was one of the days he felt like sticking to stealth mode. Stryker had given him little detail on this job, merely giving him a photo, name and location, adding a knowing "You're going on this one for a reason".
It's not as if the team wasn't well enough equipped.
Through the window of the door, he saw the target.
She couldn't have looked more complacent, a complete antithesis to the girl in the photograph Stryker had shown him, where the ferocity of her expression overshadowed any of the softer qualities she presented here.. Although the photograph was black and white, Victor couldn't have guessed the contrast her rich brown hair would have against her milky skin.
'Pale people bruise harder' He thought with a cruel sneer, touching one of his pointed fangs with the end of his tongue thoughtfully watching her. He grew complacent but tipped his head to the side with a smirk as he watched Poppy Olivia White stiffen. Her neck craned up, the girl was sniffing the air and it didn't take her long to whirl around and lock eyes with him.
The two kept eye contact but in an instant she had sprang left, running out of his eyeshot. A smile curled over his face, rich in malice and promise of a chase. Cracking his neck he rolled back his huge globed shoulders and bounced forward, allowing his sense to direct him to her hiding place.
Poppy had run from the house, and through a connecting door which led into the vast barn. Quickly, like a gymnast, she managed to balance on one of the roof beams. This hunter was a mutant, she knew that, curling her arm around the vertical beam she partially hid herself and waited.
Victor didn't burst through the door, instead, he lifted the metal latch slowly, creaking the door open with his head ducked down. His boots made no noise, cushioned by the carpet of hay that adorned the floor and, captivated Poppy continued to watch him.
Penned animals stirred with the new stranger scent, and murmured lowly amongst themselves when Creed began to talk.
"It's pointless running Cupcake" He soothed out in false comfort, "I can smell you"-Creed's face snapped from left to right as he tried to place her hiding place-"There's some important…men, who'd like a word with you"
When he stopped walking, Poppy's grip on the beam tightened in anticipation, Creed's stubbled face of the stranger looked up, easily placing her small frame against the dark shadows of the rooftop.
"Hello Poppet" Victor said menacingly slow, but his greeting was laced with pleasant humour. Poppy hissed in response, revealing her own set of pointed canines to which Victor smiled mockingly. His own, bigger, sharper teeth were revealed.
He watched as Poppy elongated her nails, dug them into the wood and took a step backward off the beam. Her nails caught in the wood and she used the force to propel herself forward, dropping to the floor five metres in front of Creed.
"I don't like Government" The nonchalant tones in her voice made Victor raise the side of his lip with a snarl, he didn't like being brushed aside,
"I don't care what you like or don't" He said dangerously, "I'm not a therapist"
"So what are you then?" Poppy asked, pricking her skin lightly with her claws before snapping her eyes to Victor, to whom she had grown complacent with relatively quickly with, considering their situation.
Excited by her question, Victor's eyes darkened, whatever the complacency Poppy felt extinguished when Victor's own claws unsheathed and elongated threateningly.
"I'm a delivery boy"