It was the dead of night. A full moon stood proudly in the pitch black sky. Its bright milky waves of light reached across the near silent countryside forest. The vroom of cars zipping passed had become whispered and the only the goriest noise of bones and cartilage being torn apart reined over the forest.

Kurt hid among the thick forest brush. His arms up and his finger on the gun's trigger. He stood motionless, waiting for an opening. In his line of fire stood a hunched over aped shaped silhouette. Kurt felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He turned to look at his surroundings.

The forest grew dead silent. Then a rush of heavy foot sets pounded across the forest floor and faded into the distance. Kurt lowered his gun. The silhouette was gone. With his gun still in hand, Kurt carefully stepped out his hiding spot and walked over to a mass of flesh the burly silhouette had feasted upon. The stanching of rotting blood evaded his nose as he began to examine the dismembered human body.

"Werewolf?" Kurt asked himself when he couldn't find a heart. With a soft tsk he tucked his gun away and began to dispose of the body.

"It's been a while since I've hunted a werewolf." Kurt smiled as he light the body on fire. "This is going to be fun."

Once the fire burned out, Kurt rushed out of the forest and to his parked black Cadillac Escalade. He turned it on and looked over to the car clock. It read 1:30.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Kurt cursed as he began to drive. "I'm so dead!"

The ride home was quick. The forest was only 30 minutes away from the town Kurt lived in. He took the time to park a street away from his house. He locked out his precious car and dashed towards his house. All the lights where off but Kurt didn't want to take the chance and went through a side gate. Cringing at each little noise he made, Kurt scaled the side of his house. He huffed in annoyance when he reached his bedroom window on the second floor. Lucky for him he had remembered to leave it unlocked. He took his time and climbed in. With a quiet giggle, he closed his window and fell heavily on his bed.

"Safe." He whispered and throw his fist into the air.

"I don't think so." Kurt jumped and a bright florescent light filled his room. Kurt looked towards his door and felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Dad?" His voice cracked. Burt looked unimpressed and crossed his arms over his wide chest. A massive frown settling on his face.

"Where were you?" Burt hissed.

"I don't know what you mean." Kurt looked away, guilt riddled his face. Burt uncrossed his hands and rubbed them across his bald head.

"GOD DAMN IT KURT!" Burt's face was red with anger as he punched the wall on his left. Kurt flinched as some of the framed pictures fell to the floor.

"Dad!" Kurt brought his hands up, he spoke in a soft voice. "You need to calm down. This isn't good for your health."

"Screw my health! You have blood all over you!" Burt stocked over to Kurt. "I told you I didn't want you out there!"

"But dad!"

"No! I don't want you going around hunting monsters Kurt!" Burt brought his hands down onto Kurt's shoulders. "You could get yourself killed out there Kurt!"

"Dad. I'm not going to get myself killed. I know what I'm doing!" Kurt pouted and crossed his arms.

"I don't care if you're the world best!" Burt pulled him into a hug and with a tried voice he continued. "I can't lose you, Kurt! I just can't."

Kurt felt a lump in his throat and returned the hug. "You won't lose me, Dad. I promise."

"Kurt please just stop hunting." Burt looked at his son. "That isn't the life for you, son."

Kurt nodded and stepped away from the hug. Burt gave him a sad smiled. "Get cleaned up and throw away all your hunting gear. Finn and Carol are coming over tomorrow for lunch. I don't want to expose them to any of this stuff you got that kiddo?"

"Loud and clear, dad." Kurt sighed. Burt padded him on the back and wished him goodnight. Kurt stood staring at his empty room. He felt a sense of dread fill him. The lump in his throat was still there and a sharp shiver ran down his back. He looked around his room and felt a pair of eyes in him. Kurt instinctively reached for his gun and noticed it was gone.

"Damn it, Dad!" Kurt belittled himself for being so careless. The feeling of being watched fell to the back of his mind. He stripped of his shirt and throw it carelessly across his room. He scuffed and made a bee line towards his bathroom.

He turn on the lights and turn to stare at his mirror. He ran his eyes across his body, taking in everything. His pale milky skin was carved up. His chest and back looked like an abstract painting. Fleshy pink scars covered his skin. Some were new and others were fading. Many if the scars in his chest and back were accidental while the ones on his upper arms and inner thighs were not. Kurt traced a random scar in his belly and sighed. He turned his back towards the mirror and studied his back. It was the largest scar on his body and the oldest. While the other scars faded away, this one would always be imbedded into his skin. A sad reminder of the day his whole life was changed. The day he found out that the monsters under the bed was real and that death can happen at any time to anyone.

Kurt was 18 and getting ready to head off to college. New York was his dream. He wanted to be famous and be on Broadway! Or at least that was the lie Kurt had been telling everyone. He knew that he would never be able to escape a hunter's life. He was trapped. His door to a normal life was shut closed the same day he lost his mother. The same day he got the everlasting scar on his back.

He was eight when it happen. A four by four hit the driver's side, killing his mother on impacted. Some of the metal from their car found its way into his back. The car went up into flames and Kurt remembered feeling the fire licking away at his skin. He remembered crying for help and crying for his mother to wake up. He remembered a white eyed man pulling him out of the wreckage. He remembered the man chanting and a warm thick liquid filling his mouth. He remembered the pain being to fade and the darkness that took over seconds after.

Kurt turned away from the mirror and turn on the shower. He stripped away the rest of his clothes. He stepped in and winced at the ice cold water that hit his naked body. He stood under the freezing water until his lips turned blue. He was shivering by the time he finished cleaning his body. Kurt turn the sliver knob and stepped out of the tub. He dried himself off and started his nightly ritual, being a hunter was no excuse to never look his best. Once satisfied he exited his bathroom and walked over to his white-doored closet. He pulled out a pair of grey sweat pants and a plan white tee.

Kurt crawled onto his bed and fell face first into his pillow. His right wrist was acting up again. The burning ache he felt had only started up a few months ago. He brought his wrist to his mouth and blew air at it, in hope of cooling it down. He hissed as the opposite happened. The doctors called it a random burn mark but Kurt knew better. The burn on his wrist wasn't random. It was a symbol that was engraved into his porcelain skin. After many months of research, Kurt had concluded that the symbol was a trefoil. It seemed from the looks of it the trefoil lived up to its meaning.