Monster's Simply Don't Exist

Prologue

Logically speaking, monsters under a bed were nothing more then a figment of a sugar filled child's imagination. The typical fear caused no worry to anyone, after all, such creatures as monsters and demons, etc., were simply nothing more then fiction, fantasy. But only the ignorant, the naive actually believed that the world wasn't overrun by unexplainable things that hid in the shadows, watching you, thirsting for human blood and souls.

Only few people actually knew of their existence, most were hunters that pleasured themselves in killing them, others seen one or experienced some sort of attack or heard rumors of their existence. Someone who was all too familiar with these bastards was a man that was too young to remember the attacks that were caused on his family, but old enough to do something about it. His name was James, code name, Skipper. He was the country's best hunter, taking down demons left and right like it was as simple as brushing his teeth. But that was mostly thanks to his team and years of military training. And Skipper sure as hell was not ignorant or naïve, for that matter.

He ran a tight shift, leaving no time for breaks or relaxation when he knew they were still out there preying on the innocent. He was a ex-marine by the time he was 26, two years he had been a official hunter, but he's been killing demons before he could count. He was a tall and buff man with a square shaped face and black hair he kept slicked back and out of his sharp blue eyes. He wore his uniform, rarely seen in anything else, which consisted of a black shirt and leather jacket with jeans and combat boots, armed with every sort of weapon known to man.

Despite his short time in the field, he was truly known as a master of the art. His team wasn't any worse, most of his members being weaker than he would have liked in the beginning, but they were like family to him, so it didn't ever cross his mind of finding new members. Kowalski was his second in command, his genius, his brain. He knew every type of demon, some Skipper was sure never existed, but who was he to go against the smart ass? Kowalski didn't go through rigorous training like his captain, but he knew how to defend himself efficiently, thanks to his incredible skills in critical thinking and planning, which more then enough times made up for his lanky, skinny body.

Kowalski was 28, same as the captain. The two had known each other the longest. According to Skipper, the man hadn't changed a bit, and was still the same, narrowed chin and messy haired nerd he had always been. One of the tougher fighters was Skippers weapons expert, Rico, a foul mouthed, Mexican man who suffered a throat injury from a demon attack long ago. His hair was kept in traditional black, per captains orders, but that didn't stop him from occasionally dying different colored streaks in his mohawk once in a while.

Rico was taller then Skipper, but shorter then Kowalski, and was just as muscular as his captain... Although a bit more scarred up. His wide array of tattoos really set him apart as well. He was a bit insane, and a pyromaniac which got them in more trouble then not, but Skipper didn't care. After all, Rico was the only one he knew that could use anything successfully as a killing machine. He was a mysterious man, and the two didn't go back like Skipper and Kowalski did, but Skipper knew him well enough to trust him to have his back in a fight. He only knew that Rico was Mexican, suffered a bad injury, and was one hell of a fighter.

Last was the boy. And it wasn't a nickname, seriously, the kid couldn't be older then 14 at the most. But he was the one that Skipper trusted entirely, even shown a spec of love to the kid, but there was a reason for that, a memory he didn't look too fondly on.

The boy was born small and weak, sure to die in a matter of years, but his parents took good care of him, keeping the secret of demons locked away, with hopes to give him a normal life. Skipper was only 14 at the time, when his nephew, named Seth, was born, and at that moment, he vowed to protect the child from the creatures that took his own family.

But that was short lived. They were attacked again, and the boy was left in his uncle's hands, who wasn't even 18 yet and lost his entire family save for a toddler. This time was different, now that he was 28 and able to defend himself, he would protect his family, and other people's families from the same fate as him.

Even if they were a bit rough around the edges, Skipper knew he wouldn't be able to live without his team.