The wind, bears down deliberately against the window. As he hears its blowing force send a howling scream around the corners of the old ramshackle house, one thought lingers across his mind, a mind plagued with bittersweet memories of his love. What if, is a question that keeps replaying throughout his thoughts. If I could have of done things different, would the outcome be the same? Would she be snuggled next to me here in my arms , bracing against the cold winds of winter? Pain and guilt rack his body and soul, if he could go back, somehow and just – "OH GOD! WHY!" his head wrenches back as he screams to the ceiling, his pain and heartache dripping from his anguish cry.
The hard wood floor squeaks , not giving any to the heavyhearted hunter, as he falls desperately to his knees. He curls into his self, tears flow; heart filled with sorrow, his arms shields his head as he wails out curses; his screams go unheard in the hollow halls of the house.
He lies on the cool surface, with time having no meaning for him, his wails have become silent sobs. The broken hunter notices that light has slowly crept in. With its warm orange and yellows, the sun raised, fills the room. Unsure of how long he has dwelled there, wrapped in pain; regret, he does not care to move. His mind slips off to happier memories, the sunlight bouncing off her golden hair, the smile dancing in her eyes, and the brightness of her smile as he kisses her smooth brow.
Immersed in tender memories, he does not ascertain the discharge of fists that penetrate his door, nor does he perceive the voice that beckons to him. Spellbound by the memory of her loving embrace, the sound of the collapsing door does not breach his mesmerized mind. An unforeseen shake breaks the spell from the hunter's subconscious, sending him into the throes of reality. As he turns; glances up to meet a familiar face kneeling over him, unable to receive the words that lunge towards him; he observes the concern in the eyes of the man who now pulls him to his feet.
In the grasps of sturdy hands that now, guide him to a nearby chair. The man gently places the shaken hunters form down into the chair, he hands him a glass. Unsure what to do, not understanding what it is he wants from him, he looks to him for clarity. For the first time since the man's presence first appeared he is able to comprehend what the gruff voice is imparting. "Drink" he demands him, the man looks to the disheveled hunter, "Come on drink, it will help settle you." Helping the weary hunter lift the glass to his lips; gives a reassuring nod.
The hunter squints as the liquid burns slow down his throat. The last of the liquid sends warmth throughout his chest. Calmness takes his senses; clears his throat to speak," How-how did you know?" he stutters out. He watches as the man takes a seat across from him; waits for him to respond.
The man leans in; look of compassion across his brow," Like I told you before, it's what I do." The man places a hand on his shoulder, gains the hunters attention, "There things out there in the world; I hunt them." He sighs as he continues to speak, "Sometimes I'm able to get there in time; sometimes I'm too late. This time was one of those times; I'm sorry, Bobby."