THE HUNTRESS

00;; The Hunt

There was a stillness in the air. A tension running deep as she went further into the enclosing, claustrophobic trees. Far away from civilization, the highway, and distant enough from her father and the other hunters that really, it was only her and the monster.

Her sweaty palm threatened to slip the dagger out of her grip while her breath hitched and her heart raced.

Four years.

Four years of this and she still got nervous.

She internally screamed at herself, frustrated. Fear was a useless human emotion. She hated feeling scared. Fear was something a hunter couldn't experience. It was their biggest weakness. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, she could still feel her stomach churning and her legs bucking, but she forced herself to keep moving.

Towards the rustle in the bushes. Towards the growl. Towards the giant beast with long claws and sharp fangs and glowing eyes.

The woods were so quiet and her heart was so loud. She could hear it pounding and she knew the monster could too. It knew she was coming, listening to the sound of her heart beating rapidly against her chest and her blood pulsing through her veins.

She wanted to turn around and run. Run back home. Run out of this town. Run out of this world. Where there were no monsters nor hunters. But she couldn't do that because one, that was impossible—to run out of this world and two, her dad and the other guys weren't far behind. If they knew how weak, afraid, and unprepared she was for this, then well, that'd be it. They would probably ship her away again. Maybe back to Gerard or some distant great-uncle in France.

God, there was no way she was going back to Gerard. The six months that she had spent with him in New York when she was thirteen was enough to scar her for life. So, she didn't turn away from the beast, but instead she took the next step towards the things that wanted her dead. Because facing the monster was better than ever having to face her grandfather again. Man, did that say a lot about her family.

She took a shaky breath, then faltered forward. She reached for the tree branch beside her for support, but she relied too heavily on the thin twig. As the branch snapped, her foot slipped and she crashed loudly against the woods' floor—the commotion echoing.

She tried to catch her breath, slowly recollecting herself from the fall. Regaining the feeling back in her body, she yanked a stick out from beneath her back, which had been digging uncomfortably. She tossed it out to her side. She didn't even realize her mistake until she heard the snarl of the wolf return. She had thrown the stick at the bushes. At the beast.

She actually gulped. She made the first move while down. She made herself vulnerable. That was one of the first things they taught you was a big 'no-no' in werewolf hunting 101.

Her stomach lurched and she thought she might puke. But there was no time—it was life or death, so she swallowed the feeling down and fought the gagging when the monster lunged over the bush—at her. She needed to act now and fast. She pulled her dagger close and threw it in the direction of the approaching wolf-like creature, then curled herself into fetal position.

She closed her eyes, knowing that it was the wrong thing to do, but it didn't stop her. With her face pressed into the dirt and her arms wrapped around her head, she almost didn't hear the wolf's cry. Of pain. Surprised, she sprung out of her shell.

About five feet away, the monster stumbled. He seemed almost as surprised as her when she caught eye of her dagger stuck in the wolf's chest.

She smiled. She could do this, she thought to herself. What was she so scared of?

Too into her own self-glory, she almost didn't notice that the monster had pulled the knife from its chest and discarded it on the forest floor.

Suddenly all her fears were returning and so was the bile in her throat. She attempted to get herself back on her feet, but she had lost all the feeling in her legs. She was too slow and she was really freaking out.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The thought that she needed shoes with better traction beside her fashion black combat boots crossed her mind as she failed to keep steady. But that might have been the nerves. Giving up, she started to crawl over the broken branches and rocks, taking a beating to her knees and her jeans.

She didn't need to turn around to know that the beast was following her. She could hear its growl in her ear and its hot breath against her neck.

The feeling of a furry hand gripped around her right leg. She let out a shriek as it yanked her back, digging its claws into the surface of the skin above her ankle.

She reached back for another dagger in her pouch. For a second she thought that maybe she would have to cut off her leg. But then her hand wrapped around something else. Her taser.

She slowly pulled it out, then whipped around, striking the wolf. It whimpered out in pain as it dropped, seizing. Its human form of a man returned.

Feeling high on adrenaline, powerful, invincible, she stood over the monster as she took out another ring dagger. She used one arm to pin down the monster, pressing against his bare chest. She didn't know how long her hundred-thirty pounds could keep the monster's super-strength down, so she worked fast as she dug the blade into the heart of the beast, twisting it deeper as the semi-conscious beast began to spit up blood.

"Grace."

She spun around. Her father emerged from the trees, followed by a couple of the other hunters. He eyed the scene as he approached, then patted her on the back. "Good job."

"Hell yeah, little Argent!" the only other hunter not in their middle ages exclaimed. He held a crossbow and it made her think of Allison.

She smiled, averting her eyes away from the hot stranger and chose to instead stare at the dying, bloodied, naked monster. It worked as good as a cold shower.

Grace watched the man begin to fit, as he started to regain consciousness. She began to raise the bloodied knife in her hand and took a step closer, when-

BANG.

Grace felt her heart stop, then restart, pounding harder than before as she jumped back. "What the fuck!"

"Watch your language," Dad scolded. He tucked his gun into the back of his pants, pulling his jacket over. With the monster dead, they would be heading back towards civilization.

And this time, it was dead. The feeling of nausea returned as his eyes glossed over and a bullet laid square in his forehead. This was the first time Grace was seeing him for the person he was. She was no longer scared. He didn't look monstrous anymore. No, he looked like a dead guy. A dead human. This man probably had a family. Maybe they were monsters too, but for now her job was done.

Chris placed a hand against her daughter's shoulder, shoving her gently away from the sight. "Come on, let's go home."

She felt him pushing her, pulling at her to get her to look away, but she couldn't. "W-we can't just leave him there!"

"A couple of the other guys will take care of them."

Grace didn't stop looking back, not even when she could no longer see the body in sight. Not until Dad pushed her into the front seat of his car. She examined her hands. She was still holding the blood-covered dagger. The image of the man...eyes glossed over...blood seeping out from his mouth...dripping down his chest...the stillness.

She shakily reached out and wiped the stained blade against her sleeve, wanting it gone. The blood, the image, the evidence. Of her involvement.

She jumped at the feeling of a touch against her arm. "You okay?"

Slowly, she looked over. It was the hot boy from before. He stood in the opened passenger side of her dad's car. Realizing she had shown a side of her vulnerability, she tensed. "Oh, yeah." She shrugged, trying to be casual, but her anxiety was still running wild. "I'm fine."

"Hunting," he said, shaking his head, like that one world said it all, but it kinda did. "You never really get used to it, do you?"

Grace wasn't sure why he was asking her. He probably had been doing this a lot longer than her, prepared for this his whole life, but she appreciated the try. Even if he was only saying it to make her feel better. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

He hummed to that. "I'll see you next time then?"

She nodded. He hesitated, like he wanted to say something more, but then she watched him walk away, humming in admiring as she checked out that behind.

She snapped back towards the front as she heard the sound of another car door opening. Dad smiled at her as he got into the driver seat. Her face burned hot like she had been caught doing something bad. But he didn't catch on to anything. It was still a couple hours before sunlight, so even in the dim car light, he couldn't see her blushing. And even if he could, Grace was grateful, because he didn't say anything. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Grace shut her car door and buckled her seat belt. As her dad pulled away from the side of the road, she watched the trees pass in a blur as they drove down the dirt road. She was ready she supposed. For the next hunt, the next town, the next monster. She had to be. For she was an Argent and it was in her blood.

Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent was more than just a French saying. We hunt those who hunt us. It was the hunter code.