This is my first upload/story here, so please be nice to me ;)
Constructive comments/suggestions are welcome. You know, grammar suggestions, details that could be added/deleted, something that could be clarified, ect.
(P.S. I've had problem with commas in the past, if you see problems like overuse, underuse, bad placement, ect. Let me know.)
Rated T: (swearing and violence)
Chapter 1
It was a cold, bitter night in Blackwood. Winter had not yet released his grip on the small, mid-western town. Icy northern winds kicked up leaves, lashing out in violent swirls, as fine snow dusted the ground. This was not a night to be wandering about. And yet there he was, picking his way between the remnants of snow drifts, and patches of ice that were scattered in the streets. Kyle Angire walked, as always, alone. For as long as he could remember he has been alone. Never knowing what it was like to have a mother, a father, or even a friend by his side. He was an outcast, not only from one, but all three worlds.
He was the personification of tall, dark and hansom. His face was like that of a Greek statue, beautiful, cold, and carved of emotionless stone. He was a tall, muscular, man at 6'2" he often stood out in crowds; not a good thing when you lived a life on the run. Women found him attractive, but unlike most men he couldn't enjoy the attention of the opposite sex. Even if he was interested, the best he could hope for was a one-night stand, but this only served to deepen the feeling of overpowering loneness when he left. There was no way someone like him could ever have a chance at an actual relationship, they would never accept him once they found out what he actually was; not that he blamed them. If he had the choice he wouldn't want mixed up in his own damned life either.
Despite the weather, the night was comforting; it surrounded him with a blanket of darkness, it was his safety blanket of sorts, much like a child would hide from monsters beneath the bed sheets. The night was the only form of protection he had against the 'monsters' that plagued him; it was flimsy at best, but it was better than nothing. It was his element, its dark veil provided the only 'home' he has ever known. It was a place he belonged—the only place he belonged. He was a nomad, traveling town to town, city to city; this town was no different from the rest; he would stay for a few days, maybe a week or two and then move on to the next— at least that is what he thought.
'Something's not right…'
He could feel it; it had been nagging at him all night, clawing at him from the back of his mind. He listened carefully as he leisurely, at least by appearance, walked up the streets; not even his inhuman sense of hearing could reveal the source of his anxiety. Inhaling deeply he hoped to catch a scent, any scent that would give clue.
'Nothing… Did the direction of the wind just change? Not good...'
Thehairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
'They must have found me… No wonder that fricken' headache wouldn't go away… Of all the times… damn hunters…'
Carefully he kept his appearance calm, not even breaking stride when he entered the dank and dreary alleyway between the post office, and the bar.
The alley was cramped; littered with old pop bottles, and candy wrappers. The walls of the bar and post office mirrored each other, built in the same era of the same aging and crumbling brick. It reeked of old beer and urine; but he walked further in; wanting to 'set himself up' for an ambush. It was too good of an opportunity; he had evaded them for too long, the price on his head was far too high to merely give up: he knew they would take the chance. That is what he was counting on. He was tired of it, tired of being chased, tired of being treated like an animal, when the only thing he had done wrong was exist. It wasn't his choice to be born like this, and yet they insisted he would be the one punished for it. No, no he wasn't going to put up with it anymore. It was going to end here, and now. He leaned against the bar; watching frozen puffs of vapor float up and disappear. Waiting for the first signs of…
crunch… crunch… crunch… crunch…
He could hear soft sets of steps in the cold-hardened snow, one on his right and another to his left. The steps were slow, and deliberate; they were trying to sneak up on him. He could also hear subtle crinkle of ice of the bar roof. Indicating there was more above him as well.
"Let's see here… one to the right, one to the left, there is one, two…three? Three of 'em on the roof. But I don't sense anyone else nearby. Humph… Do they really think they can take me on with such a small group? They forgot who they're dealing with—well I guess I should remind them then.'
"Hello there, would you happen to be Kyle?" a not-so-friendly male voice came from his right.
He heard something heavy grate against the bar's roof, it sounded like two of them were struggling with something heavy. Ignoring them for now, he turned his attention into brute who had spoken to him.
"Nope. Sorry, you got the wrong guy." He replied as he glanced to his left, spotting a leaner but just as dangerous man in a jean jacket.
"Very funny. Enough of the bullshit, you know why we're here." The dark, heavily muscled man hissed. He made a show of his fangs, intentionally bringing them to Kyle's attention as he spoke.
'Great, vampires, just what I needed. What better to go with the nasty gashes I already have, than bite marks and bruises? This is going to be one long, hellish night'
He still hadn't fully recovered from the last time he was attacked. The wounds from the savior hunting party were still healing, the angry slashes still raw on his flesh. On top of that he was still weak from power binding spells they had used on him; the effects yet to completely wear off. Stepping away from the wall he faced his attacker, and looked him straight in the eyes.
"Yes I do, you're here to die." Kyle stated in a cold, flat tone as his eyes slashed into the man that stood before him, daring him to make a move.
They froze. The man behind him swallowed hard, as the men above stopped mid-way though their work. They had all heard the rumors about his strength, speed, and power. No one really knew what he was capable of, very few of those who ever crossed his path had ever returned—alive. He was a legend; one born with a tainted heritage, as far as anyone knew he was the only such being to ever exist. He is the only being capable of drawing upon the magic of the demons, the savors, and the mages. He was born with traits and powers forbidden to all. But he was best known for evading, and defeating the most elite hunters of the supernatural world. He had killed hundreds in his short lifetime, earning the reputation of 'The Hunter Slayer'
"I believe it is the other way around." He replied; slightly shaken by Kyle's words.
"Really?" Kyle bared his teeth; his fangs glistened in the pale moonlight. "Let's see who's right."
Kyle lunged forward in a blur of motion; gathering energy for an attack. The man before him threw up an energy shield; just barely getting it up before Kyle reached him. It didn't matter. Kyle thrust his fist forward, hitting the shield with enough force to shatter it. He went for the neck, grabbed on before the man could recover, and snapped it, crushing his spinal cord; a loud crack echoing against the walls. With a strangled gasp he fought, just for the briefest second before going limp in Kyle's hand. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, the last of his life-force draining away. Unceremoniously Kyle dropped him to the ground, his body disintegrating into a glowing, gold dust.
Good, he managed to catch one by surprise, but the others wouldn't be that easy. He wasn't worried so much about the hunter in the jean jacket, but what the other two were doing on the roof. Hopefully, they would lie low, not realizing they had been exposed, but he doubted it.
Knowing he had a short window of opportunity before all-hell broke loose, he targeted Jean Jacket. Once again he gathered energy; this time for a spell, and focused it into the palm of his hand. Suddenly he whirled around for the attack, a blinding blue light filling the dark alleyway.
"Varta basca kere!" The words of an ancient tongue rang though the air.
The bolt of lightning crackled, and snapped as it surged away from his hand towards his enemy. The blue bolt of light snaking out to bite anything unlucky enough to be in its path.
"Durno!" A frantic voice barked from the rooftop above.
Durno snapped out of his awe-stuck trance, just in time to dodge the attack. He countered with his own attack, his crescent blades whirling like stinging wind-driven rain toward Kyle. Kyle vanished in an eerie cloud vapor, instantly out of reach of the deadly blades. Kyle could feel Durno's shock as his attack passed though nothing but open air. He rematerialized behind Durno. Before the vampire realized what had happened, Kyle used his supernatural speed; to strike him in the back of head, cracking and shattering his skull. Durno was instantly incapacitated, knocked out cold by the severity of the blow; blood stream down his neck and back. Kyle caught and held him there for a moment. Gathering the energy he needed, he once again summoned the blue lightning to his hand finishing him off. The wind sent gold sparks swirling and dancing around his frame. The golden light of death casting a brief, but frightening glimpse into the eyes of the'Cursed one'.
'Now it was on to the next two…'
snap
Before Kyle could react, a large net crashed down on him from above. It weighed a ton—literally. Made of a rare, incredibly dense metal called Silvermite; it could prevent anyone, or anything trapped inside from using any from of magic or psychic ability. This made it nearly impossible for anyone to escape from its unyielding grasp. Never-the-less Kyle fought to free himself from the great weight pinning him down.
'Damn! I let my guard down! Stupid, stupid, stupid!…ouch… Dammit!'
"Heh. He's not so tough now." The larger of the two men called down from the roof.
"Shh! "Don't provoke him!" the shorter man snapped in a sharp tone.
"Don't worry bout' it, no one; not even him--can break out of tha--"
"You don't know that! He's escaped from, and killed far better hunters than us!
Entire hunting organizations have fallen to this guy! Do you hear me?! Elites!
"Quit your winning Mario." He growled.
"But Kert--" Mario continued.
"Quiet!" Kert snapped, "Let's just get this over with, and go home."
Kert jumped down from the roof; followed hesitantly by Mario. Muffled music was the only sound that could be heard as they approached him. Kyle sat quietly glaring at them with cold, emotionless eyes. A sinister smile slowly crept over his lips.
'Humph… Idiot. You're too cocky for your own good, you should have listened to your friend, you might have lived longer…'
It seemed to Kyle that Mario was the only one who had any sense between the two; sure the Slivermite prevented him from using his powers, but it did nothing to his strength, or speed. As soon as they got close enough, they were dead. He shifted position slightly, preparing himself for an attack; he only had one shot at this, his body wouldn't allow for another.
They came closer; he waited until they were only few feet from him. Kert smirked, and opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance. Kyle suddenly stood; using his brute strength to throw the net off of him, and onto them. Caught by surprise, they could do nothing as the net pinned them to the ground. Kyle knew there was no way from them to escape, not when their great strength came from the dark magic that coursed through their bodies. They had no way to escape and they knew it. Their eyes were wide with fear, breaths coming in sudden gasps; they knew the net blocked abilities of those trapped inside, but not from the outside. They saw death look them in the eyes.
"I win" the words were almost drowned out in the roar of the green flames that sprang from his fingers.
Kyle ended their lives with without preamble, the bodies dissolving into a glowing cloud of gold. It was over. He would have relative peace until they sent to next team after him. He looked at the net; it was an extremely valuable weapon; the metal it took to make it alone is worth more than many of the High Lords possessed in their entire fortune. If nothing else, he could use it against his countless pursuers. Battered and sore, he picked up the heavy, awkward net up; did he best to fold it into something he could reasonably move, and headed down the woodsy embankment behind the small-town bar.
'I'm sure the case for this is still on the roof, but that can wait until later, I'll have to find a place to stash this thing, until I have the strength to get it out of here.'
Thankfully, there was a grassy slough tucked into the trees and shrubs--a perfect hiding place. Dropping the net beneath a small tree, he covered it with the dried slough grass that covered the area in a thick tangled carpet. Sighing, he inspected his work, making sure that no glint of metal would catch the eye of the curious children of that roamed Blackwood. Satisfied, he started back up the embankment, a task proving to be far more difficult than it should have been.
'Damn… this isn't good, this shouldn't be this hard... ow, ow... oww! Fucking hunters... I'm not sure—ow—who worse, the saviors, or the—ow... vampires. Ugh! God damnit!'
His flesh and muscles burned as he climbed out of the shallow embankment, he had slipped twice on the slick snow-covered grass, but he managed to get out and back into the streets.
He was tired, yet he couldn't relax enough for his muscles to quit cramping. This bothered him. He walked carefully, staying out of sight of the few townsfolk that did brave the weather; as he sorted through the events of the battle in his mind.
'There was one ahead, and one behind' he struggled to keep his thoughts straight; fatigue clouding his mind. 'Then there was the two on the roof. The two... two…Wait. The three… There were three on the roof!' The thought shocked him. 'How could I make such a stupid mistake?! How could I of missed the third person?! How did he leave without me noticing?!
Turning around he headed back towards the alleyway hoping to find some clue as to where the last hunter had gone. He needed to catch and kill the last hunter before he could get out of town, before he can report back to his commander; before they knew about his current condition. He had to, if word of his weakened state got out, he would be swarmed by dozens of hunters; all of them hoping to claim the bounty on his head. He was too weak to handle the onslaught, and too injured to flee far enough before they got here. If he failed it could—probably would mean the end of his life.
He may be half angel, and half vampire, but he was all power. He was going to make damned sure that everyone and anyone who crossed him got what they had coming. If wanted to make his life hell; he was going to return the favor. He just hoped his body would hold out until then.
END OF CHAPTER ONE