Prologue
Abomination
The fatal strokes of the huntress's foreclaws shred skin and muscle. Lost to the curse of the blood song, the inexperienced male didn't have the presence of mind to evade the hand that impaled him. The length of the huntress's forearm sinks into the young blood's chest. He feels no pain. The raging song is all consuming. And the young blood tosses his head back with a furious roar. The abrupt movement causes the recording to blur; the cam refocuses on the heavens; blurs again as the male swings his head down; the cam adjusts and zooms in on a pair of fierce green orbs. The determination shining through brightens them to a shade of green nearly as vibrant as the dying young blood's life essence fountaining from his chest.
Kazai'sa, Elite to the Matriarch Kalix'tal, watches the recording impassively, unmoved by the remaining young blood's impending demise. Move fast or die. A hard lesson that cannot be taught and you can only fail once. Even so, Kazai'sa remembered all too well the blinding fury of that song, it is something that never truly leaves a Yautja, but time has a way of eroding things. And nine centuries of the hunt was a long time. Now, only the bloodlust and the ever-present rage beating within his chest endured. Efficient, Kazai'sa thought in recognition of the speed and precision of the huntress's death blow. Merciless.
A quality this time-honed warrior appreciated. Taking pity on your prey was ignoble. If they fought to their last breath, then they deserved an honorable death. But strangely, the huntress did not seem to relish her triumph. Baring teeth much too sharp for a human, she pulls the Yautja closer; pulls the cam closer; pulls him closer; Kazai'sa can't look away; refuses to look away. A low cadence of a growl can be heard over the dying Yautja's quaking breaths. The huntress's snarl twists into an open taunt as if daring Kazai'sa to hunt her.
Arrogant. Rattling laughter erupted from the Elite's chest, causing winged shadows lurking in the skeletal trees overhead to take flight. As birds and beasts alike scurried away from that hollow, terrifying sound, Kazai'sa replayed the killing blow, studying the huntress's movements frame by frame and decided he liked what he saw. She'd impressed him, something that happened so rarely, Kazai'sa found himself staring into the frozen image of the huntress's green orbs. Drawn by her fighting spirit, the hunter involuntarily leaned in to trace the bloody warpath of her arduous battle smeared across her face in mud and the blood of her kills.
Kazai'sa lowered the biomask from his face, pausing the recording playing on the inverse opti-shields. Extracting all the information he could, Kazai'sa pulled up her bioscan. The left opti-shield produced several layers of the huntress's biology revealing a fact of great interest to the hunter. The female was a xeno hybrid. An abomination.
The hunter raised his head. An icy mist settled over Tassix 7, leeching away the color of the darkening marshland. How ironic that he came to this decaying world hunting one abomination and her BadBlood mate, only to happen upon another and the havoc she wrought. An invigorating breeze shifted the lengthy, slightly greying dreads tied loosely at the nap of the hunter's neck. Mud squelched underfoot as he leaned forward in his crouched position to lay the biomask on the chest of its dead owner. Scavengers came and went days ago, leaving mostly barebones and scattered remnants of gear behind. The fusty, bitter air barely tinged with rot.
He glanced right, upslope. In the snarl of roots, sinking into the marsh, a Hunt Master and three other young bloods', like the one at his feet, would soon provide nutrients to mud dwelling arthropods. He should destroy the remains, eliminate all traces as per Yautja law. But in his mind, he found this end more fitting. The Hunt Master had made a grave error in judgment, therefore the clan the dead belonged too should clean up the mess. Kazia'sa noted the location and sent the information to the other clan, allowing them to decide what to do with the remains. As for the recordings... Kazai'sa stored those and erased the evidence. Even as he did so, he clacked his tusks at the impulsive decision. Though, he didn't dwell on it too much. The Yautja are a competitive lot and none more so than those who have grown bored of the hunt and seek deadlier challenges. Moreover, Kazai'sa didn't want to have to deal with dozens of cocksure young bloods, aspiring to make a name for themselves. Killing them would be a trial of patience of which he had none.
Kazai'sa stood up and gazed longingly into his own ambition. The dead meant nothing to him, but the huntress... the U'darahje... the mere thought of hunting her woke the ancient hymn in his blood. Echoes of the long-forgotten song spiraled through his veins- sei'i, he alone would hunt the Abomination... and one way or another she would end the curse of his unrelenting discontent...
A/N: Please note that the majority of this story is told through Revna aka the Abomination. ;) But occasionally it will shift back to Kazai'sa. Again this is a prequel, but you don't have to read the original: A Fangirl's Crack'd Afterlife. But you should for funzies! ;D It'll give you a sneak peek at the epic romance to come... hehe.
P.S. This chapter was short on purpose. ;)
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Yautja Definitions:
Sei'i: Yes
Young Bloods: juveniles who have a little hunting experience but have yet to kill a xeno.
Hunt Master: This title's kind of ambiguous. Hunt Masters train and take Un-Bloods and Young Bloods out on the hunt. But the Hunt Master can also be a Clan Leader. It's a bit of a grey area in the books.
U'darahje: Abomination
BadBlood: a dishonored Yautja.
Elite: typically loners. They're above the Hunt Master but not the Ancients. They act mainly as enforcers and arbitrators.